Willow Run: Boxed Set (Books 1-6)

by Hart, Melissa F.

  ***

  For unknown reasons, morning at the clinic seemed tedious to Willow, and she felt her temper growing short after dealing with a snooty woman who didn’t want to hear that her basset hound was terribly overweight and that she needed to stop feeding him human junk food. After getting nipped by an ill-tempered Spitz, she gave the owner a sharp-tongued lecture about biting dogs and legal liability, and why responsible dog owners make sure their pets are properly trained. She rubbed her head in frustration after they departed, looking up as George appeared in the door of her exam room. He was holding a huge Maine Coon Cat and looking concerned.

  “Can you please look at Winston before the next appointment? He hasn’t had any appetite for two days, and I can’t find anything wrong with him.” George stroked the cat’s head. Winston rolled in his arms, snuggling a little, but he seemed lethargic.

  “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry he’s not feeling well.”

  George set his big cat gently on the exam table, holding him skillfully while Willow palpated his body. “He doesn’t seem to have any obstructions in his gut,” she noted. “It’s probably something going on in his mouth.” Winston complied as she pried his jaws open, checking his tongue, gums and teeth. “Can you shine that light in the back of his mouth?”

  Quickly George redirected the light at she peered at the big cat’s teeth. “Ah ha, I think we have the answer.” Straightening up, Willow continued, “He’s got some tooth resorption going on with one molar; it’s very common in cats. Take a look.”

  George bent to get a better view.

  “See that molar where the gum looks like it’s growing out of the tooth? We need to do some X-rays, but I imagine an extraction will fix him right up.”

  “I can do the X-rays,” George said, looking relieved. “I’m glad it’s not anything worse. I really appreciate you letting me jump the line.”

  Willow patted George’s shoulder as Winston draped himself back over George’s arms. “Heck, yes, you can jump the line. That big baby is part of the Wetherwell Clinic family!” Willow smiled warmly.

  George suddenly grew shy. “I—I better get him back in a holding cage. I think our next appointment just arrived.”

  The next appointment was for a pair of kittens needing their routine vaccinations and the owner was, thankfully, a pleasant older gentleman. He asked Willow if she was enjoying life in the Kingdom, and she paused for a moment, unsure how to answer his question.

  Finally she forced a smile and said, “There’s a lot more going on than I expected.”

  As the man slipped the kittens back into their carrier, Willow wondered if on Saturday night he turned into a bear or a badger or some other creature, or if he was just a regular person who owned a small fencing company, as he had mentioned while they chatted. It was hard to not let her newfound knowledge about some of the Kingdom’s inhabitants influence her ruminations.

  Finally, it was time for a lunch break, and since hunger seemed to be her new constant companion, Willow headed to the diner in the hopes of having a few words with Katie over food.

  As usual, Katie hailed her as she came through the door. “Hey, Willow, the special today is turkey tetrazzini—or are you hungry for something particular?”

  Sliding onto a stool at the counter, Willow shook her head. “I need something a little more…meaty.”

  Katie nodded knowingly. “How about a little steak, very rare?”

  Leaning across the counter, Katie spoke in low tones as Willow cut, chewed and swallowed the steak, which wasn’t little at all. “You’re just building up to the first time. You won’t crave hunks of red meat like this for the rest of your life. It’s like…you have to feed the carnivore growing inside you.”

  Willow glanced up from her plate. “You make it sound like those things in that movie about aliens, you know, where they kept bursting out of people’s chests?”

  Katie laughed softly. “Bursting out, maybe, but it’s not quite so horrific.”

  Chewing thoughtfully for a moment, Willow decided to spill the beans. Lowering her voice to barely above a whisper, she confided in Katie. “So…I’ve managed not only to bungle things with Mace, but I’ve also pissed off Guy, who was just trying to clue me in on how not to die on my first shapeshifter run and…some cat was spying on me while I was taking a bath last night.”

  Katie nearly dropped the steak sauce in her hand. “What?” Fumbling, she caught the bottle, and leaned in to Willow. “Some perverted feline was peeping through your windows? That’s disgusting.”

  “I know, right?” Willow agreed. “I have this feeling that it was the cat who…made me.”

  “Look, we can’t discuss this now. Meet me at closing time. We need to analyze everything that’s going on.”

  “And I need some shifter pointers…since I seemed to have alienated every potential mentor who has come my way.”

  “Look, don’t worry about that. I’ve spoken with a couple of my pals on the shifter council. They want to help you…and they’re friends…you won’t try to eat.” She couldn’t help but grin a little. “Michael is a golden eagle, and Gretchen is a fox.”

  “Okay, I’ll be back as soon as we close the clinic for the day. I’m taking a couple of surgeries this afternoon, so as long as there aren’t any complications, I should be done by 5:30.”

  When Willow got back to the clinic, she was pleased to see that George had everything in the surgery prepped. The room was spotlessly clean and well organized, and she understood why Samuel valued their vet tech so much. It wasn’t often you could find someone who could assist in surgery, and who didn’t mind cleaning up the poop in the kennel area.

  “Looks great, George,” she called as she went to the sink and started scrubbing her hands.

  “Thanks, I’m a bit of a perfectionist, I guess.” He was whistling again as he bustled about. “First patient up is a rescued calico that needs to be spayed. She’s about fourteen months old, so it should be routine.”

  “What else is on our dance card?” Willow turned as she dried her hands.

  “An aging retriever with a small tumor. I don’t think that should be too tough either. Samuel caught it early.”

  “That’s good. Speaking of the devil, where is Samuel anyway?”

  “He’s out inseminating the Johnson’s fancy jumper, you know, the ‘foal in a bowl’ arrived this morning via express delivery, so he had to hustle straight out. That mare has produced one Olympic caliber colt already.”

  “I wonder if the drivers know they are delivering horse semen?” Willow said with a chuckle.

  George pretended to knock on a door. “Good morning! Here’s the new toaster oven you ordered, and please sign here for this nice bucket of expensive horse sperm!”

  It was normal vet office humor, and Willow felt at home with her co-worker as she snapped on some latex gloves. “All ready, go get the calico girl.”

  The afternoon passed quickly and both of the patients did fine. Routine was healing, Willow decided, as she and George tidied up the operating room.

  “Thanks for helping things go so smoothly today.” Willow smiled at George. He blushed a little, which Willow found a little odd for a forty-year-old man, but she realized that George was naturally shy.

  “That’s nice of you to say.” He turned back to the tray of instruments he was putting in the autoclave to sterilize, and then nervously cleared his throat a little. Without looking at Willow he asked, “Would you…want to go grab a beer after work?”

  “Oh thanks, but I already promised Katie I would meet her. Rain check?”

  “Sure, no problem.” George tried to sound matter of fact about it, but Willow realized from the slight slump of his shoulders that her co-worker was disappointed. She wondered if George had many friends in East Lindenbury, and it occurred to her that he might be lonely.

  George clicked off the lights and started whistling again. “Go meet Katie, I can lock up.”

  Willow nodded. “I’ll come back at
ten tonight to check on our patients, and if you can X-ray Winston’s mouth before you go home, leave the films out for me and I’ll have a look at those, too.”

  George perked up a little. “Sounds good…and thanks, Willow. I’m so glad you’re taking an interest in Winston.”

  ***

  Green’s Diner was closed but Katie had left the door unlocked for Willow. She was finishing up the day’s receipts as Willow walked in.

  “Hey—go grab us a couple of cold ones from the fridge in back, would you?” Katie called, tapping away at her laptop keyboard. “And help yourself to some meat if you are starving. Just wash your hands first.”

  Willow had never been in the kitchen at Green’s before, but it was as spotless as the Wetherwell Clinic operating room. Every stainless steel surface was polished to a gleam, and the dry goods neatly organized on racks in matching bins. Opening the giant fridge was a little like opening a treasure chest. Labeled containers contained a crazy array of foodstuffs ranging from homemade pimento cheese to locally produced yoghurt, blueberry jam, and bread and butter pickles. When her stomach rumbled again, though, the only thing that seemed appealing was…raw meat. After dutifully washing her hands, she pulled out a couple of cube steaks, along with the beers, and slapped them on a clean plate.

  When Willow returned to the front with the plate and their beer, Katie smiled. “The closer it gets to the full moon and your first shift, the more you’re going to want to eat like that.”

  Willow looked from the plate in her hand with the little crosshatched steaks to the beers in the other. “It does look pretty weird. Maybe I should lock the door?”

  Katie nodded with a laugh, and Willow bolted the door after putting down the results of her kitchen rummaging. Sitting back down, she cut off a bite of meat, talking as she chewed.

  “So am I going to have any other bizarre cravings or behaviors? You need to start dishing the real poop here.”

  “Hey now, don’t talk about dishing poop in my restaurant! Someone might get the wrong idea,” Katie said, laughing. She sobered a little and clicked on a document on her laptop, spinning the computer around to show Willow. “The truth is, I’ve made a little training schedule for you.”

  Reading quickly, Willow saw that there were sessions scheduled for almost every evening for the next ten days. Topics on the list included, Gretchen—Shifter Etiquette and Dealing with Humans, Michael—Surviving Your First Shift, and Katie—What and Who You Shouldn’t Eat.

  “Well.” Willow sighed a little. “This certainly seems thorough.”

  “You’re a special case.” Katie shrugged. “Young shifters learn all this over about a six-month period. You have to have a crash course.”

  Resigned, Willow surrendered. “Believe me, I don’t have some kind of death wish. I’m grateful for the help. I just hope we don’t have too many vet emergencies. Next week, I have night call.”

  “We can work around it if you do. It’s important that you don’t get stressed. That will make the first shift tougher,” Katie noted.

  “So if some unidentified pervert was looking in your window, wouldn’t you be a little stressed?” Willow countered.

  “That brings us to the next very important topic—who made you, and why.” Katie rested her chin on her clasped hands, looking thoughtful. “Let’s back up a little. You’ve never completely filled me in on what happened with Mace and Guy.”

  “Well, the only two candidates I had for my maker were Guy—because I glimpsed his bobcat—and Mace—because he wanted help researching what kind of cats could successfully crossbreed with the last New England cougar. He told me he was doing research for a new book, but when I found out about the world of shifters, I guessed that he was trying to find a mate for himself.”

  “What kind of cats can mate with a cougar?”

  “There really isn’t much evidence for successful crossbreeding with cougars, genetic anomalies create all kinds of issues—dwarfism, sterility. With bobcats, for example, it’s a little easier. They could mate with a Canadian lynx, or probably even a large domestic cat like a Maine Coon.”

  Katie pursed her lips a little. “And you told him this?”

  “Yeah.” Drawing in a big breath, Willow continued, “After my attack, I began to wonder if he was desperate enough to forcibly make himself a companion. I went to his house, with the intention to try to provoke his shifter side, to make sure he really was a shifter and…you know, one thing led to another and…” Willow’s voice trailed off.

  “And?” Katie prodded.

  “And it was like the most fantastic sex I’ve ever had, but I got weirded out because I didn’t know whether or not he could be trusted. I said a few harsh things and then he tried to persuade me that he had nothing to do with my attack, but I was so confused I just ran away.”

  “I see.” Katie scrunched up her mouth, thinking for a moment. “And Guy?”

  “He took me out to the woods, shifted, and led me to a plant that started blooming under the moonlight.”

  “Jimsonweed,” Katie said knowingly.

  “Yeah, except when I tried to touch it, he smacked my hand with his paw and scratched me pretty hard, then he shifted back and basically told me what a dumbass I am about what it means to be a shifter and how I needed to pay attention if I didn’t want to die on my first shift. We got through that, and he was actually kind of sweet, but then the topic of my being involuntarily made came up. He blew his stack because I didn’t immediately deny it when he asked me if I thought he had attacked me.” Willow sighed. “I guess I am a dumbass.”

  Katie reached across the table and squeezed Willow’s hand. “Look, no one has forcibly been made a shifter in twenty years, and I only know of one case of a couple falling in love, and the shifter’s boyfriend voluntarily became a river otter after accidentally seeing his lover completely shift. Believe me, the shifters are as confused about all this as you are—Chris made it agenda item number one at the council meeting last night.”

  “So why is it so important to Chris?”

  “Despite the fact that you tried to turn him into a venison snack, I think he has the hots for you…maybe because you are a little dangerous, and he likes to think of himself as one badass buck. But perhaps, more importantly, if there’s a carnivore out there flaunting the council, then a lot of other, smaller, shifters could be in real danger.”

  The notion of being dangerous struck Willow as odd. Never once in her life had she ever felt threatening. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about Chris. Maybe after her first shift she wouldn’t be so inclined to want to have him for lunch.

  “You know, on your lesson plan here, I don’t see any info on shifter sex.” Willow raised an eyebrow as she looked up at Katie. “You know, how’s all that work…human, animal, making babies?”

  “Okay, shifter birds and bees.” Katie took a long drink from her beer. “Mostly we only have sex in our human form, like anyone else. So you can have cross-species relations, or relations with normal humans, although generally people tend to naturally be attracted to similar shifters. You see quite a few couples where one is a hawk and the other is a falcon, or a weasel with an ermine, that kind of thing. Not to diminish your considerable charms, but with Guy and Mace, their attraction is probably amplified—at least in part—by the fact that you are becoming a cat. Maybe it has to do with pheromones or something like that.” She coughed a little. “To procreate, though, we…uh…”

  “Do it in your animal form?” Willow finished Katie’s sentence.

  “Yeah, we mate with another shifter of our own kind as animals.”

  “Do you give birth as animals, too?” Willow was starting to feel a little weirded out again.

  Katie shook her head. “No, but the births can be…hard. Chris often attends at the births of non-carnivores, especially if it’s been a difficult pregnancy, and Gretchen, my fox friend, is a nurse mid-wife. She helps deliver both human and carnivore babies.” She took another sip of her beer and added t
houghtfully, “Sometimes the stress of childbirth—or serious injury—can make someone shift against her will. It can be especially bad if it happens at the wrong time in the birthing process, putting both the life of the mother and baby in jeopardy. Chris, as a trauma specialist, is worth his weight in gold, but all medically trained shifters are very valuable in our community. Besides Chris and Gretchen, the Kingdom has a doe pediatrician, a badger general surgeon, a dozen nurses of various species, one otter physical therapist, a heron anesthesiologist, and a husband and wife team of bear internists.” She thought for a moment. “You’re the first veterinarian, I think.”

  Willow blinked a little. “I can treat animals, but…I mean, shifters aren’t going to start making appointments for themselves at the Wetherwell Clinic, are they?”

  “No, no.” Katie snickered a little. “I mean, only for their pets. Shifters are very discreet, but they may seek you out for everyday problems—like an infected cut or wasp stings, stuff like that.”

  “I won’t have any idea how to dose them with medication—do you do it like they are an animal or a human?” Willow puckered her face, perplexed.

  Katie gestured noncommittally. “I’m a chef and a business woman. You need to talk to Chris about that…but right now I think you have more pressing issues.”

  Willow swallowed her last bite of meat, washing it down with a swig from her beer. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I don't want to go belly-up—literally—on my first shift.”

  “Exactly. Now, let’s talk about your peeping Tom. Did you get a good look at any of his features? Eye color, size, anything like that?”

  “I only got a glimpse. The eyes were definitely cat eyes, golden. And then later, I was outside, and I heard something yowl and then slink off into the bush and it was definitely bigger than a breadbox.”