2. Logan
2
LOGAN
L ogan crossed his arms as Dr. Henderson scratched his balding head, peering at the young fox through his wire-rimmed glasses. The animal lay listless in its enclosure, its normally bright red fur dulled to an ashen gray.
"I've never seen anything like this," Dr. Henderson said, flipping through his notes. "The blood work's normal, no parasites, no infections. There's absolutely nothing wrong with this fox, except..."
"Except it's turning gray and barely moving," Logan finished, his jaw tightening. The scent of magic clung to the fox's fur - sharp and electric. Not that he could explain that to the human vet.
"Could be environmental toxins. Maybe heavy metals in the water supply?"
"Already tested. Water's clean." Logan replied, frustration building in his chest. Three other animals had shown similar symptoms this week. All of them touched by the same otherworldly signature.
"Well, I could run more tests-"
"No need, doc." Logan pulled out his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"
Dr. Henderson blinked. "But we haven't figured out what's wrong yet."
"Sometimes these things work themselves out." Logan counted out several bills. "I appreciate you coming out here."
"At least let me prescribe some antibiotics-"
"Thanks, but I've got it from here." He guided the protesting vet toward the sanctuary's entrance, past rows of enclosures housing injured wildlife awaiting release.
"Mr. Steele, as a veterinary professional, I really must insist-"
"Have a good afternoon, doc." Logan shut the gate behind the vet with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. Once alone, he turned back to survey his sanctuary, his territory.
Logan's nostrils flared as a familiar scent caught his attention - pine needles mixed with stale cigarettes. His gaze swept across the sanctuary's perimeter until it landed on a section of mangled fencing near the tree line.
"Son of a-" He stalked over to inspect the damage. The metal fencing lay twisted and warped, bearing deep gouges from claws larger than any natural bear's. Bite marks peppered the posts, splintering the wood beneath.
"Third time this month." Logan ran his fingers along the jagged edges. "Getting real tired of your games, Silas."
The bear within him rumbled, remembering the satisfaction of taking down his former friend years ago. Back when Silas had started targeting humans, claiming they were destroying shifter territory. Logan had chosen to protect both worlds instead.
"Gonna cost me another grand to fix this." He kicked a broken post, sending it skittering across the ground.
The damage stretched for nearly twenty feet. Logan paced the length, cataloging each breach point. Silas hadn't just attacked randomly - he'd methodically weakened the entire section. One good storm would bring it down completely.
"What's your endgame here, buddy?" Logan crouched to examine a particularly deep claw mark. "Breaking my fence won't change what happened."
A twig snapped in the woods beyond. Logan's head jerked up, his eyes shifting to bear vision for a split second - sharper, able to pierce shadows. Nothing moved in the treeline, but the hair on his neck stood up anyway.
"Yeah, I know you're out there." He straightened, rolling his shoulders. "Want to do this face to face? Or are you just gonna keep playing peek-a-boo with my property?"
Only silence answered. Logan pulled out his phone to snap pictures of the damage. His insurance company was getting really tired of these claims, but what could he tell them? Sorry, my ex-best friend turned eco-terrorist keeps vandalizing my sanctuary in bear form?
"Getting sloppy, Si." He zoomed in on a patch of fur caught in the wire. "Leaving evidence everywhere. Prison must've made you stupid."
Logan tucked his phone away and headed toward the raccoon enclosure. The normally rambunctious creatures huddled in their den, their usual chattering replaced by weak whimpers. Their fur had started taking on that same ashen tinge as the fox's.
"Come on, guys." He pulled fresh berries from his pocket. "Got your favorite blackberries here."
The raccoons didn't budge. Logan's chest tightened as he dropped the berries near their den entrance. The sweet-tart scent that usually drove them crazy barely registered a twitch.
"Fine, be that way." He moved to the next enclosure where a young deer lay curled up, its legs tucked beneath it. The same magical signature clung to its fur. "You too, huh buddy?"
The deer's ear flicked but it made no attempt to stand. Logan crouched beside the fence, his bear's heightened senses picking up the animal's labored breathing.
"This isn't how it's supposed to work. You're supposed to get better here, not worse." He stood back up, turning toward the next enclosure.
A hawk screeched overhead, drawing his attention to the aviary. At least the birds seemed unaffected so far. Small mercies.
"What am I missing?" Logan checked water levels and food supplies more out of habit than necessity. The sick animals barely touched their provisions. "Magic doesn't just appear out of nowhere."
He paused at the fox's enclosure again. The creature's chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, its nose dry and cracked.
"Some protector I turned out to be." Logan's knuckles whitened on the fence. "Can't even keep you safe in my own sanctuary."
"Don't worry, little guy." Logan forced a lighter tone. "We'll figure this out. Nobody messes with my animals and gets away with it."
The words rang hollow even to his own ears. Whatever was affecting these creatures wasn't natural, and no amount of conventional veterinary care seemed to help. He needed someone who understood magic, someone who could-
Logan leaned against the fence post, memories suddenly washing over him. "A witch who knows animal medicine. Real convenient how that'd be useful right about now."
His fingers traced the rough wood grain, remembering how he'd built these enclosures with his own hands after Serena left town. Back then, the physical labor had been a welcome distraction from the hollow ache in his chest.
"Should've supported her dream instead of being a stubborn ass." He kicked at a clump of dirt. "But no, I had to run my mouth about how vet school was just a big waste of time."
The fox whimpered again, drawing his attention. Logan crouched beside the enclosure, his bear's protective instincts churning beneath his skin.
"You would've loved her, little guy." He watched the fox's labored breathing. "She always had this way with animals. Could tell what was wrong just by looking at them. Used to drive me crazy how right she was all the time."
A squirrel chittered overhead, almost sounding like laughter. Logan shot it a look.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. The big bad bear shifter admitting he was wrong." He straightened, brushing dirt from his jeans. "Wonder if she ever finished that degree. Probably running some fancy city clinic by now."
The image of Serena in a pristine white coat, helping some pampered poodle with a tummy ache, made him snort. She'd always been meant for more than that - her magic had practically hummed whenever she worked with injured creatures.
"Should've seen her potential instead of my own stupid pride." He stared past the fox, looking at nothing in particular. "Real smooth, Steele. Chase away the one person who could've made this place everything it should've been."
The bear within him paced restlessly, remembering how Serena's magic had always made his shifter side feel more... balanced. Complete, somehow. Not that he would’ve ever admitted that to her.
"Ten years." He shook his head. "Ten years of building this place, and I still catch myself thinking 'Serena would know what to do' every time something goes wrong."
The squirrel suddenly ran past Logan's boot, tearing him away from his thoughts.
"Don't suppose you know where to find a potion-brewing vet in Saltwater Grove?" He asked the squirrel as it ventured off.
Logan turned away from the fox enclosure. His boots crunched on gravel as he headed to his truck. The old Ford F-150 had seen better days, its navy paint scratched and dented from years of hauling supplies and rescued animals.
"Time to swallow that pride, big guy," he muttered, climbing into the driver's seat. The leather creaked under his weight. "Nina might know someone who can help, and those animals can't wait for your ego to catch up."
The engine roared to life, and Logan pulled onto the winding road leading into town. His bear bristled at the idea of asking for help, but he shoved that instinct down. The sanctuary came first.
The Cauldron & Cup's neon sign flickered in the afternoon sun as Logan parked. Through the window, he spotted Nina orchestrating a symphony of floating mugs and ingredients behind the counter. The bell chimed as he pushed through the door, and the smell of coffee and magic hit his nose like a punch.
"If there's another witch in this town who knows their stuff about potions, Nina will know," he reminded himself, ducking to avoid a levitating teapot.
The café buzzed from the large afternoon crowd. A group of teenage witches giggled in the corner as their Moonbeam Macchiatos lifted them inches off their seats. At the counter, a mermaid sipped her Siren's Song Smoothie, her green scales shimmering with each gulp.
"Logan Steele!" Nina's apron twinkled like a miniature galaxy as she turned to face him. "What brings the sanctuary's resident grumpy bear to my humble establishment today?"
"I need your help, Nina." He leaned against the counter, watching as she directed a dirty mug to wash itself in the sink. "I’ve got some animals showing weird symptoms. Magic-weird. Do you know anyone who might be able to take a look?"
Nina's hands danced through the air, sending ingredients spinning into a waiting blender. "Magical veterinary issues? That's quite specific."
The vintage espresso machine hissed and steamed behind her as she considered his request, purple sparks dancing at her fingertips.
"Yeah, well." Logan scratched his jaw. "The regular vet is stumped, and I'm running out of options."