Raven’s Instinct (A Day Care for Shifters #6)

8. Kendra

8

KENDRA

K endra thought for one horrible moment that she’d been hit by a car, but it was from the wrong direction, and although the blow rocked the van, it didn’t deploy the airbags. Kendra slammed on the brakes and put a hand out to the car seat out of habit, but of course, Amy wasn’t there.

She put the van in park and checked the mirrors next, getting a glimpse of something big in the far side-mirror. Had one of Tabby’s horses escaped and followed her? Why would it charge her van?

Though the collision had caused her more than a little alarm, instinct was not suggesting immediate danger, so Kendra unbuckled and went warily around the front of the van.

There was a big, black bull standing beside the vehicle, head lowered like he was ready to charge again, but he paused when he saw Kendra. He was a Spanish bull, Kendra thought, and a big one—probably three quarters of a ton of attitude and wickedly sharp horns.

She immediately realized what his problem was; he was dragging a tangle of razor wire that was wrapped around one lacerated rear leg. Kendra kept the nose of the van between her and the bull, ready to bolt around to safety if he charged her as she considered her options. He was clearly in pain, and Kendra was not going to simply approach a hurt animal that could trample her without effort. She had tranquilizers, but she’d have to get close enough to inject him. She found herself wishing she had a tranquilizer gun, or a blowdart. But this wasn’t a movie, and she’d need to inject him with a whole lot of sedative to take down a creature of his size anyway. Anesthetic wasn’t cheap!

The bull snorted and blew, pawing with one of his front legs before he turned, the cage of wire ringing on the gravel as he dragged it around as if to show it to her.

His attack suggested aggression, but was it possible that he’d simply been trying to get her attention?

Kendra stepped from the shelter of the van and the bull swung its head to look back at her, snorting.

A hurt animal might instinctively seek a human for help, especially a tame one, but it wouldn’t be acting so careful, especially after crashing recklessly into the side of a vehicle. Kendra wryly noticed that he’d managed to scratch a line through her logo and dent the side slightly. Would her insurance cover an act of bull?

But he wasn’t really acting like a bull.

Kendra took a tentative step closer, prepared to bolt if he made a move, but the bull only lowered his head with a sigh and swished his tail.

He was a shifter, Kendra realized, as soon as she was close enough. There was a little tingle of recognition that every shifter gave off, like a familiar smell or sound, but not of any usual sense. It was always stronger with proximity, and most noticeable with touch.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m a shifter, too!”

Kendra dropped her reservations and approached, putting a hand on his flank to make sure he knew where she was as she knelt to see the extent of the damage.

Her owl cooed in sympathy.

It would have been a hazard on any animal, and if he hadn’t been a shifter, Kendra knew that it would be much worse; some of the wire was wrapped up around his leg, like he’d fought to remove it, and there was a dragging coil that would be a swinging weapon if he struggled or was restless. The dragging part was full of dead leaves and grass, and there was dark, dried blood staining his leg, even though part of the wound was fresh and bright.

“How long have you been hauling this around?” Kendra asked in horror. “Have you been stuck like this?”

A cow’s leg was considerably thicker than a man’s and Kendra couldn’t understand why he hadn’t shifted to slip himself out of the metal trap, but she wasn’t afraid that he would accidentally hurt her now. She rose to her feet to go to the back of her van for the tools that she would need.

First were leather gloves. They did a good job of protecting her from testy clients with claws, but she knew that the razor wire could still pierce them if she wasn’t careful.

She grabbed wire cutters (because this would not be the first bovine she’d untangled from a poorly considered encounter with a fence), and a first aid kit. The bull watched her come around from the back of the van with a steely gaze, but he didn’t budge an inch as she knelt beside the mangled leg again.

“I’m going to be right back here,” Kendra said. It helped to talk constantly when she worked with animals, so they knew exactly where she was and there were no surprises when she touched them. “I’ll take the weight off the wire first, and then we’ll work on getting the rest off. If you feel like kicking me, just don’t , okay?”

The bull snorted his agreement. He was clearly keeping his weight off of the leg, and Kendra hissed in sympathy as she got a better look.

“Here we go.”

Snip, snip.

Kendra wished she had the heavier-duty wire cutters; the fencing was thick enough that it took all of her strength to snip each strand and by the time she’d gotten the dangling coil disconnected, her hands and forearms were already feeling the strain of it.

The stuff wrapped around the leg was trickier. Some of the strands cut deep into the flesh, and Kendra couldn’t see immediately how to get the cutting blade underneath them. She cut it away doggedly, unwinding what she could, cutting it when she couldn’t. The barbs bit through her gloves several times, no matter how careful she tried to be.

“Oh, sweetie, this looks bad,” she said soothingly. There was a reason she was a vet and not a human doctor, and part of that reason was that she liked to tell things like they were. Her bedside manner was much more about avoiding being bit than it was about breaking news gently. “You’ve definitely got some infection in here, and I’d have been surprised if you didn’t, because this is filthy .”

She had to rip the wire from the hide for the last few winds because the flesh had swollen around it, and fresh blood oozed down the bull’s hock. His sides heaved, but he stood absolutely stock still while she worked. Traffic went by semi-steadily, but they were shielded from view of the highway by the bulk of Kendra’s van and no one stopped to offer help.

“You’re a lot easier than my usual clients,” Kendra observed. “I’d have called in an assistant for this one for sure. Did you come to me because I’m cheaper than a doctor? Because I’m going to have to charge hazard pay for this—oh my God that is gross.”

When the last of the wire had been stripped off, Kendra kicked it all off the side of the road so she wouldn’t accidentally stumble on it while she was cleaning him up. She stripped off her gloves and went into the van for a jug of water. She paused to pour half of it into a pan for the bull and he drank thirstily, emptying the bowl in a few slurps.

The rest of the water she poured over his leg with sterilizing soap, and she wasn’t surprised when he gave a tremendous bellow of pain as she worked. “Sorry, buddy. I’m going as quickly and carefully as I can. You really managed to do a number on yourself.”

The bull huffed and groaned, but kept his feet planted, unmoving, which Kendra deeply appreciated. He lifted the afflicted leg as Kendra asked him to, and she probed the joints above and below.

“The infection is localized,” she said approvingly. “We can probably get it cleared up before it goes septic. I’m going to give you a few stitches because I don’t like how this is still bleeding, and some oral antibiotics. I’m also going to get you started with an injection and pack it with sugar. Believe it or not, the sugar will encourage the flesh to heal and keep infection from spreading. Don’t lick it, or I’ll find a surgery cone in your size.”

The bull eyed her, like he wasn’t sure if she was joking.

Finally, the leg was stitched, packed in sugar, bandaged, and back on the ground. Kendra was cold and her ears and fingers were numb. It was near freezing, and she couldn’t do delicate work with gloves on. She wore a padded flannel, but was still in summer work boots and had forgotten to put on a hat.

“Don’t baby the leg too much,” Kendra advised, blowing on her hands to warm them. “I don’t usually have to tell animals that; they’ll put weight on it when they’re ready to and limp around like an invalid if they think it will get them extra treats.” She cleaned off her first aid tools as she put them away. “You want to explain why you didn’t just shift to get out of that?”

The bull shook his head and snorted, then stamped his front feet and jerked his head backwards.

“Is something else bothering you?” Kendra had done a very basic inspection before she got down to work, but the affliction was so obvious she hadn’t done a thorough job of it. She went to his head and checked down his back, feeling the temperature between his front legs and looking in his ears.

He pulled away when she went to check his teeth. “Fine. I’m not your dentist and maybe that’s a little personal. Be that way.”

She checked his shoulders and front feet, patted under his belly, and listened to his breathing. Aside from his questionable barbed wire accessory choices, he was in stellar condition, strong and sound. There was a brand on one flank, barely visible on his dark hide.

“I don’t recognize this mark,” Kendra said, squinting at it. “It doesn’t really look like a brand at all.” Most brands were simple, because the whole point of them was recognition. This one was muddy, like someone had tried to do a delicate design with a thick-headed marker, and black on black made it even more obscure.

The bull was bobbing his head up and down like a cartoon.

“Does this have to do with why you’re stuck this way?” Kendra asked.

More vigorous nodding.

The idea of someone branding a shifter made her a little sick to her stomach, as the ugly injury hadn’t. The idea of the mark somehow trapping him as a shifter was even more unnerving.

“So…do you know how to fix it?” Kendra asked. “I’d offer to kiss you, but there’s this guy I’m sort of dancing around, so I’m not sure the timing is right, you know?”

The bull arched his head and gazed at the ground as if he was praying for patience.

“I’ll try,” Kendra finally said. “I just don’t want you to have any expectations, okay? No tongue.”

The kiss she put on his velvety nose was perfunctory, and it seemed to have no effect whatsoever.

“Sorry, buddy. In no small part because I have no idea where to send a bill for this and oh, no…”

Kendra realized that she was hearing her phone ring from inside the van at the same moment that it dawned on her that she had not only missed her opportunity for a shower at the laundromat, but also that she was already late for picking Amy up and it must be Tiny Paws calling, wondering where on earth she was.