Call of the Wild

4 - The Veterinarian

I listen intently as the front door swings open on creaky hinges. Tensed up, ready to run, I strain to hear any familiar, gruff voices demanding entry.

"Robin, hey. Thanks for coming up," the boy greets. Warm familiarity trickles its way into his tired voice.

"Masey!" a high voice exclaims. It's a girl's voice, reassuring only because I do not recognise it. I relax, albeit only slightly. "Oh my God, this place is... um..."

"You can say haunted."

"I was going to say charming. But yeah, I was kinda hoping the inside would be nicer than the outside."

"Sorry to disappoint— I haven't had a chance to clean up just yet. Actually, that's why I've called you over."

"I'm not helping."

"Gee, thanks. But that's not why you're here."

I hear approaching footsteps, and this Masey guy starts explaining what happened last night. Or whenever it was. Time tends to melt into an incomprehensible puddle when I'm shifted. Especially when I'm shifted and injured and hiding in the dark beneath a piano, with no natural light to tell the time by.

"Now, I know I'm an asshole and deserve a special place in hell for this, but I was on my way to get groceries and... I hit a dog. With my car."

There's a loud smack and a yelp of pain that has my ears flicking. "Mason Griffin, you did what?!"

Mason. That's the name of my kidnapper. Asshole has a better ring to it.

"I'm sorry! It was dark and he just ran in front of my car and I couldn't stop in time! And the vets are closed cause they're fucking useless — no offence — and I'm pretty sure his leg's broken or sprained at the very least. I need you to check him for me."

"Fucking hell, Mase. What do you mean, they're closed? My dad's on a work trip but Eli's meant to be watching the closest clinic."

"Well Eli has apparently decided to close until noon. No emergency contact or anything." Frustration tightens Mason's voice, and I realise that, despite the kibble and despite the kidnap, he really does mean to help me out.

"Prick. I'm counting this as work experience. Show me the poor baby."

They wander into the room I'm in. Shoes scuff on the floor and I hear a deep sigh. "He's probably hiding again."

"You look like shit, Mase. No offence."

"None taken," Mason says as he crouches down and lifts up the sheet. As he speaks, he watches me attentively. "Some guy broke in, and I had to call the cops. It's been a weird morning."

"Holy shit. Let me check the little angel and then we're gonna have the catch-up of our lives."

I watch Mason uneasily from my shadowy corner. Someone kneels down beside him, and a girl peers into the dark.

For a moment, I let myself study them both. The girl has deep brown skin and silky black hair, with soft features and kind, dark eyes. And meanwhile, Mason has tanned skin, light brown hair, and tired, muted green eyes. They're both staring right back at me, looking apologetic and immensely guilty— respectively.

"Hey, little one," the girl — Robin — greets me. Her voice is as gentle as her features. "What has this horrible boy done to you?"

Mason sends her a lighthearted glare. A deep growl rumbles in my chest as I bare my fangs. I want them gone. This is my den, not theirs.