The memory faded away, and instead, I found Diablo’s warm gaze staring back at me. Animals are not furry people, their minds an alien, hard-wired maze of instinct, but I could almost imagine him asking me for advice. What should I do, Shan? Do I protect the men? Or do I do what I need to survive?
Which will result in you being destroyed anyway, I thought.
I looked up at Hollingsworth, who watched my every move with the laziness of a cat.
Look after the men, I thought, shoring up his sense of purpose, inflating his innate bravery and self-sacrifice. Protect them. I showed a fearless, untouchable Diablo, forcing the men who’d attacked him back. Love the men. I choked on that one, the suggestion coming out more as a whimper than a command.
But he took the bit between his teeth as dogs do, his head swivelling around as he scanned the four men, and then I felt it. I sighed, not caring how that came across with our new client. It still broke me every time. Not every owner was like Carla, desperate to do the best by her pet. Plenty basically wanted me to brainwash their beasts, make a dog bored out of his mind OK with sitting in his tiny yard all day, or working to get a cat to accept his owner had decided to cut his claws off.
“Keep them happy.”
Nan’s words—part wisdom, part rod for my back—rang through me as I sat up.
But what about them? What about me?
“See how you go, but I think you’ll find he’s less reactive,” I said.
Hollingsworth nodded slowly, then turned to Stuart.
“Look, Wilson, enough of the pussyfooting. This place has another couple of months of liquidity, and then you’ll either be borrowing hand over fist or going under. Here’s my offer.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and slid it across the table. “You, Ms Bruce here, and all of your employees will be earning double what they’re currently paid. I’ll be paying you a lump sum on top of that, which will free you up to either sell this place or find another vet to look after your father’s legacy. I’m being more than generous.”
“You are,” Stuart said in a hushed voice, straightening when he realised his game face that slipped. “Why?”
“You have the expertise we need, and I’m prepared to pay for it. Come, bring your staff to the institute tomorrow for an orientation session. If you object to the position? Tell me, and I’ll leave you in peace.” He got to his feet, the men following suit, Diablo quickly moving to Hollingsworth’s side. “A pleasure to meet you both,” he said with a tip of his head.
Chapter 5
Stuart had called a team meeting after the last of the men in black left. He’d both broken the news about the state of the practice and then provided them with a solution all at once. Nick and Janey had sat there kind of stunned, so my apprehensive expression fitted right in.
“So…what will I do?” Janey asked finally.
“I’m not sure. You might be based here, or there, or both. All we know right now is there’s good money on the table. Tomorrow morning at nine, we report to the institute and hopefully get some clarification.”
“So, big cats…?” Nick asked. “We’re gonna be working with lions and tigers?”
“They haven’t said.”
“And who’s going to look after the locals? Mrs Collins is going to be beside herself,” Janey said.
“I know, but—”
“What did you used to do to get this sort of money on the table?” Nick asked, peering at the offer.
“Enough!” We all jumped at that, since Stuart rarely raised his voice. “Look, I get it. This is all new, and there’s a lot of unexplained variables. I just don’t have any answers for you right now. I had no idea this was on the radar or that anyone followed my previous work. All I know is this.” He pointed to the slip of paper. “Let’s meet up at the institute, see what they have to offer, then sit down and discuss it further.”
“So, what do you think about this?” Janey asked me on the way home. She shared Nan’s place with me, after moving in when she died. “Like what even is the Capricorn Institute? When I looked at their website, there’s all this government mumbo jumbo that seems partly about saving the planet and partly about helping the military?”
I couldn’t tell her, of course. Nan’s paranoia was legendary in the valley, so I did my best to pretend I wasn’t the same. I flicked my eyes up to the ridge that curled around our town, to the squat shape of the old prison.
“Military?” I asked with a frown, turning up our driveway. A sense of peace settled over me as soon as I saw the place. For all of Nan’s many warnings, this was home. Hers, Mum’s, mine. The barking started before we even got out of the car.
“Buster! Max!”
My voice was sharp, but I felt it instantly—that wash of unquestioning love dogs lavished on us. It was hard to feel worthy of. They gave everything to me, holding not one thing back.
My boys, I thought, sending a wave of love towards them. It was great helping people with their pets, but nothing beat being home. They bombarded me with thoughts of cuddles and pats, of belly rubs and walkies and food and… I pushed them back gently as we got out of the car.
Max was a black Husky dumped by an owner unable to cope with the typical Husky hijinks. He woo-wooed as I walked up to the gate, then growled his displeasure at me being away. The fact that he had the run of several acres of land now was disregarded in the excitement of us coming home. Buster bounced, basically dancing on his back feet as we got closer.
Away, let us in, I sent out to them, visualising what I wanted them to do, but I used a hand gesture to explain the result to anyone who watched.
“One day, you need to teach me that trick. I use the same hand signal and they completely ignore me,” Janey complained.
“You just need to establish yourself—”
“As pack leader. Yes, you’ve said, Stuart’s said, Nick’s said, but I’m not having much luck. Maybe I'm just destined to be a beta.”
Lower than that, unfortunately, in the dogs’ minds. Janey was nice and gave them pats and treats, but they wouldn’t hesitate to monopolise me, the spots on the couch, her food, if opportunities presented itself. To them, she was a hapless puppy.
“So, what are we doing about dinner?” she asked as we walked inside the house. My mind was only half focussed on her words, the familiar amber incense smell of Nan’s house, mixed with lemon floor polish, dried lavender, and aged wood filling my nose. I took a deep breath in, then out again, dropping my keys into the beautifully glazed bowl on the entranceway table. Home, safe.
“Don’t say the D word,” I hissed, but the dogs’ ears pricked, their bodies whirling with my every step as they blasted me with images of their second love—food. “C’mon, mutts. Outside.”
I opened the big sliding door at the back that gave us a picturesque view of my land beyond, stepping out with the dogs clustering around my feet until I gave them a mental shove.
Sit, be polite, and wait, I admonished them, and they dutifully sat quietly as I measured out their biscuits. Don’t touch each other’s food, I growled mentally before placing their metal bowls down.