The Psychic and the Vampire

Chapter Thirty-Three

Ant would never admit to anyone, but he felt nervous as he and Viktor waited in a consulting room at the vet clinic while a very friendly technician went to the find the vet and bring Able to them.

He and Able had never been apart, not since they’d first started training together when Able was about ten months old. Am I weird because I worry Able will have already forgotten me? Ant gripped Viktor’s hand, noting he was nervous too, although no one would ever guess from the vampire’s staunch exterior.

Fortunately it didn’t take long. Ant heard the clip of Able’s claws on the linoleum and in less than a minute the door was open, and Able came in, towing the technician behind him. “I’ll leave you here a moment while I find the vet,” the woman said cheerily, letting go of the lead attached to Able’s collar and closing the door again.

“Able.” Ant dropped to his knees on the floor as Able came running over, wagging his tail so hard his whole back end was wiggling. “Look at you, my poor boy. How are you doing?” He ran his hand softly over the shaved area on Able’s right shoulder, tears pricking his eyes as he unclipped the leash and unfamiliar collar. “You have been in the wars, haven’t you, but look at you now. No one would believe you’d even been injured if it wasn’t for those stitches.”

The German shepherd didn’t seem to care about any of that, panting happily, leaning into Ant just the way he always did when he wanted pats. His tail was thumping on Viktor’s legs, but Ant wasn’t ready to give up on the pats just yet. “I was so scared,” he whispered into Able’s fur. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

Sensing his distress, Able did what he always did, sitting and waiting for Ant to put on his work collar. Ant patted the collar which was in his pocket. “We have to wait to speak to the vet first,” he said quietly. “You have to be cleared for work.”

Hugging his companion a few more moments, Ant stood up before taking his chair again. Able was sitting still, watching him intently, but every few seconds he was looking over at Viktor.

Ant knew what Able was waiting for and nodded. “Go on. Get your pats from Viktor. He’s missed you, too.”

No further encouragement was needed. Able planted his front feet on Viktor’s knees, eagerly lunging forward to lick his face. “Take it easy, furball.” But Viktor was laughing, rubbing Able’s sides, and his back, paying particular attention to between his ears. “We don’t even know if you’re allowed to jump up anywhere yet.”

“He’s an intelligent dog.” Ant looked up as the vet came in. “If it hurts him, he won’t do it. Doctor Channon, Viktor. Thank you both for coming in.”

“Able’s a huge part of our family,” Ant said. “I would’ve been here sooner today, but…there’s no point in getting into that. What’s Able’s prognosis?”

“Really good. A combination of luck and Able’s excellent health.” The vet was a handsome older man with blue eyes and gray-flecked hair. His whole face lit up when he smiled, as he perched his butt on a tall stool. “Whoever was wielding the gun was a lousy shot, and that worked in Able’s favor. The bullets both skirted along the outside of his shoulder bone – any other angle and the outcome wouldn’t have been positive.

“But we work with what we have, and Able has had no issues, at all. Well…” The vet’s smile widened. “Apart from apparently pinning for you two. He barely moved in the run we had him in, just laying down in front of the door, very well behaved. He didn’t bark at all. But he was clearly waiting for you two to come and pick him up.”

“This is the first time we’ve been parted.” Able had climbed down from Viktor’s legs and was sitting between them. Ant put his hand on his head, stroking gently, relishing the familiar action. “What do we need to watch for? What do we need to do with him once he’s home again?”

“Just make sure his stitches don’t get infected,” the vet said. “If you see any redness around the area or any ooze coming from his actual wounds, then you’ll need to bring him back in. But otherwise, you can remove the stitches yourself in about ten to fourteen days. I have found most dogs will try and remove them with their teeth once the skin heals and gets tight around the threads. Just be sure he doesn’t scratch the area – you don’t want to be wearing a cone of shame, buddy.” He wagged a finger at Able who was smiling.

“What about work?” Viktor asked. “Ant and I are both taking some time for ourselves after the…incident, but Able is already asking for his collar, expecting Ant to put it on him.”

“He wears it anytime we’re out,” Ant added. “It’s not a harness, so it won’t bother his shoulder. As my service dog, Able needs to be able to move freely at all times. The training center we worked with suggested a double collar system, so that Able can differentiate between when he’s just being walked normally on a leash and when he’s on duty with me. As he comes everywhere with me, the trainer felt that distinction was useful for both of us.”

“That is a good idea.” The vet nodded. “Seeing as it isn’t a harness, then I don’t see any reason why Able can’t wear it now. I get the impression Able will be happier if things go back to normal for him as soon as possible.”

Sliding the collar out of his pocket, Ant held it up. Able immediately moved around sitting in front of him, his ears pricked forward in anticipation. As Ant slid the collar on and latched it, he could feel a small surge of energy and smiled. “He is happier,” he said as Able went back to where he was sitting.

“I did want to ask,” Viktor said slowly, “in terms of trauma. I don’t have a lot of experience with animals, but the situation where Able incurred his wounds was particularly horrific for all involved. Do animals suffer from trauma aftereffects the way a human or paranormal might?”

The vet huffed out a long breath. “That’s debatable. Perhaps that’s something you can have your friends at the Mage Academy study, Doctor Channon. There might be times when Able might react differently to some situations that haven’t bothered him in the past, but unfortunately I can’t tell you what those situations might be.

“What I will say, given how well-trained Able is and how close the bond is between you all, I think the worst Able might suffer is being skittish at times. If you are concerned, or you notice his behavior has drastically changed, then definitely come back to me or contact his previous trainer. Otherwise, keep doing what you’re doing. Dogs are especially resilient, and I have every confidence Able will be fine.”

“Thank you.” Ant stood up, and Able immediately stood up as well. “Was there anything else we need to know?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” the vet said with a smile. “But if you have any concerns at all. You have my number. Could I ask one question, though, before you leave?”

Ant nodded, although he froze inside. He did not want to explain how Able got shot. But the vet surprised him.

“How did your companion get his name? I have heard of dogs with the name Abel, spelled A B E L, but not Able the way you have it. Does it have significance for you?”

“Able is short for capable,” Ant said, looking down at his patient companion. “His trainer said he’d never known a dog who was that in tune with his companion from pretty much day one. Able also proved, over time, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do for me. He calms my agitation if he senses I’m getting upset, grounds me and reminds me of the real world when I’m doing a scene reading, he sniffs out dead bodies, he protects me if I’m in a vision. He does it all right through to planting himself in front of me if I get caught up in what I’m thinking and forget to put on pants before leaving my bedroom. That last one only happened twice…” He thought for a moment. “Three times.”

Viktor and the vet both laughed. “Well, I agree, Able is very capable, and I have full confidence that you two are as well, so I wish you well in your future endeavors.”

“Let’s go home,” Viktor added. “I’m sure Able is missing the sun on the porch.”

“And playing with you on the lawn.” Ant let out a long breath and clicked his fingers. “That’s a great idea. Let’s go home, Able.”

/~/~/~/~/

“I never believed I could have this,” Viktor said quietly. They were lying out on the grass in the backyard, holding hands, staring up at the clouds as they chased each other across the sky. Able was sleeping after playing a gentle game with Viktor and was now snoring softly, his head on Ant’s foot, and his tail draped over Viktor’s boots.

“What sort of this do you mean?” Ant turned into his arm, resting his hand on Viktor’s chest.

“A mate. Peace. Contentment. A true sense of home. I’ve always had a house, but I’ve always been able to leave at a moment’s notice. Now…for the first time in my life I don’t have this urge to be anywhere else. Don’t you sense that in me?” Viktor tilted his head, smiling as Ant glanced up at him from under his mop of blond hair.

“You know I do, but sometimes I get the sense of feelings and don’t quite understand the depth behind them. But I think I know what you mean this time. This has permanence, doesn’t it?”

“It does. I like it.” Viktor sighed happily as he looked up at the clouds. “I like you. I more than like you.”

Ant laughed softly. “I more than like you, too.”