Chapter 8
Having seen the last client of the evening to the lobby, Beth dropped into a chair behind the reception desk. Layla was organizing the day's files with impressive efficiency.
"You look like you've been doing that all your life," she told her friend.
Layla beamed at her. "I know, I was surprised at how easy I found it. So maybe it's a little boring."
They both chuckled, then looked around as Troy emerged from his office, shrugging into his worn leather jacket. His keys jingled as he patted his pockets, doing the familiar end-of-shift check - wallet, phone, keys.
"Everything's squared away for tomorrow morning's surgeries," he said, pausing at the front desk. "Tobi's waiting for me out back. You two okay to close up?"
"We've got it covered," Beth assured him, tucking a loose strand of pale hair behind her ear. "And our security's here, too," she reminded him.
"Perfect." He smiled warmly at them both. "You're both doing great work here. Have a good night, ladies."
"Good night, Dr. Shelton," they called in unison as he headed for the back door.
The clinic's waiting room sat empty, the last patient having left thirty minutes ago. Outside, the security lights cast pools of yellow illumination over the customer parking lot, while darkness engulfed the thickly clustered trees beyond.
Beth pushed away from the counter. "Want some tea? I think we still have that mint blend you like."
"No, I'm good." Layla closed the last file drawer with a satisfying click. "I've only got fifteen minutes before I head home. Are you working all night again?"
"Yeah, until five." Beth propped her feet on a stool, shaking her head as she watched Layla fuss with things.
Layla frowned at her. "I don't know how you can work twelve-hour shifts. Just a regular shift feels long enough."
A grin spread across Beth's face. "Ah, but it means I get three-and-a-half day weekends. Four nights on, then almost four days off to do whatever I want."
Layla just shook her head, clearly unconvinced by Beth's enthusiasm for the night shift schedule.
"I've always been a night owl," Beth explained. "Okay, let's lock up and get one of the guys to escort you out."
The words were hardly out of her mouth when headlights swept across the waiting room windows.
"Oops, spoke too soon. Although, Dr. Shelton's gone."
Layla shrugged. "We can send them to the emergency vet in town."
"True."
A moment later the clinic's front door burst open, and a woman stormed in, dragging a young boy by the arm. His thin face was pinched with discomfort as she yanked him forward. The woman's features twisted into an ugly sneer as she approached the counter.
"So this is where they let animals pretend to be people." Her voice dripped with venom. "Playing doctor while decent humans trust them with their pets."
Inside Beth, Whisper bristled and snarled, the leopard's fury pulsing hot and demanding in response to the pure hatred radiating from the woman. Her hands clenched beneath the counter, nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep her voice steady. "Ma'am, can I help you with something?"
"Help me?" The woman barked out a harsh laugh. "I don't want anything from creatures like you. Hiding among decent people, deceiving everyone. You're all abominations."
The boy beside her stared at the floor, his shoulders hunched. He couldn't have been more than eleven or twelve, and Beth's heart ached at his obvious distress.
"I saw the news." Her lip curled with disgust. "All this time, monsters walking among us. Wearing our faces, living in our neighborhoods. It's disgusting."
Beth felt Layla freeze completely beside her. Her friend's hands trembled so badly she nearly dropped the file, and when Beth glanced over, Layla's face had drained of all color. With a visible effort, Layla reached for the button beneath the counter that would summon security.
Beth straightened her spine. "If you don't have any medical needs, I'll have to ask you to leave. We're preparing to close for the evening."
"Leave? Oh no, I came to make sure everyone knows what this place really is." The woman's voice rose shrilly. "A den of freaks and animals pretending to be normal. You don't deserve to walk among humans. You should all be locked up in cages where you belong."
The clinic's door swung open, a blast of cold air preceding Tyr and Tobi as they strode in. The vampire twins' faces hardened as they took in the scene.
"Is there a problem here?" Tyr's voice carried quiet authority.
The woman spun around, her fingers digging into the boy's shoulder. "More of you freaks?"
"Ma'am, I suggest you leave. Now." Tobi's tone held a menace that raised the hair on Beth's arms.
Over the woman's shoulder, Tyr discreetly made the universal "call me" gesture with his hand.
Nodding her understanding, Beth slipped her phone out, dialing 911 with trembling fingers.
"Yes, hello? We need police at Country Veterinary Clinic.
We have an aggressive woman harassing staff and refusing to leave. "
"You can't make me-" The woman's words cut off as Tyr stepped forward, his blue eyes glacial.
"Actually, we can. This is private property, and you're trespassing." He gestured toward the door. "Your choice - leave willingly or be escorted out."
The woman released the boy's arm, jabbing a finger at Tyr's chest. "Don't touch me, you monster!"
"We're security, ma'am." Tobi moved to flank her other side. "You can walk out on your own or not, but you're leaving."
The woman's expression turned vicious, and she stormed toward the door. Tyr and Tobi followed close behind, their tall forms bracketing her exit.
The 911 operator was asking if they were safe.
"Yes, the woman is being escorted outside by our security," Beth told her. "They'll hold her until the officer arrives."
The operator assured her a squad car was on the way. Thanking her, Beth ended the call.
The boy remained rooted in place, his thin shoulders hunched as he stared at the floor. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
Beth's heart clenched at the misery in his young voice. She crouched down so she was below the boy's eye level, keeping her movements slow and gentle. Non-threatening. "Hey there. I'm Beth. What's your name?"
He glanced toward the door where his mother's muffled shouts still carried through the glass. "Todd," he mumbled.
His eyes darted up to meet hers for a brief moment, then his shoulders relaxed slightly when he confirmed his mother remained outside. He met Beth's gaze, a tiny smile curving his lips. "I... I actually think shifters are way cool."
Beth's heart squeezed as Todd absently rubbed his arm where his mother had gripped him. In the fluorescent clinic lighting, faint purple bruises were already forming against his pale skin.
"That looks like it hurts," she said softly.
Todd's thin shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug as he picked at a loose thread on his backpack strap.
Beth kept her voice gentle, barely above a whisper. "Todd... are you safe at home?"
His fingers worried the zipper pull on his jacket. "I don't know what you mean."
"I think you do." Beth prompted softly.
Todd's jaw worked for a moment before he answered. "Yeah. For now, anyway." The words came out barely audible.
Beth's heart rate picked up, but she kept her voice steady. "Has she ever hit you?"
"Not yet." He tensed as his mother's voice carried through the glass, now arguing with the police who had arrived. "She just... grabs sometimes. When she's angry."
Beth's heart sank as she studied Todd's expression. His young face held a weariness far beyond his years, a resignation that spoke of waiting for the inevitable.
She opened her mouth to speak, to offer help or resources, but Todd cut her off with a sharp shake of his head.
"I've got it figured out." His voice dropped to barely a whisper.
"The first time she actually hits me will be the last time.
" His small fingers tightened around his backpack strap like a lifeline.
"I'll let her do it once. Just once. Then I'm gone.
I'll go straight to the hospital. Let them document everything. "
Protective fury surged through Beth. The casual way Todd spoke about allowing himself to be hurt, the methodical planning, the resignation in his young voice - it was all wrong. No child should speak with such calculated acceptance of violence.
"I've got clothes and stuff hidden - a go bag." Todd tilted his chin up with defiant pride, though a kind of resigned acceptance shadowed his young features.
"My friend Jim's mom works at the hospital. She already promised to help, no questions asked." He patted his backpack. "And I always carry important papers with me, just in case."
Beth's leopard growled inside her, protective instincts - both human and animal - surging at the thought of this child having to plan his own escape from the very person who should be protecting him, nurturing him.
"That's... very smart of you," Beth managed, her throat tight. "But you shouldn't have to-"
"It's okay." Todd cut her off again, his voice stronger now. "Really. I know what I'm doing."
Layla's quiet voice broke through the heavy moment. "You can come here." Her words, though soft, carried the strength of someone who understood survival. "Any time. Day or night."
Beth glanced at her friend, pride warming her chest as Layla stepped around the counter to join them.
"We have connections," Layla continued, her gentle accent more pronounced with emotion. "People who help children find safe places. Good places." She knelt beside Beth, her eyes meeting Todd's. "You do not have to wait for the bruises to prove what is happening."
Todd's shoulders tensed. "Without the bruises they'll send me back to her."
"Not necessarily," Beth said, pulling a business card from the holder. She scribbled her cell number on the back. "Here. Put both numbers in your phone - the clinic's and mine. Save them under something your mom won't question."