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PetDepot Veterinarian’s Office
Blood pulsed down the Raven’s back, and a new wave of pain came with it. He braced against its intensity, then walked to the back of the office.
The veterinarian, a man of about thirty years of age, was removing his blue office scrubs. But when he looked up, the sight of the g*n and bright red blood caused him to freeze in place. “We don’t have any drugs here,” the vet said.
“I’m not looking for drugs. I’ve been shot, and you are going to help me.”
“I’m a veterinarian. I can’t—”
The Raven pulled back the hammer with his thumb. “You will help me right now.”
“Okay, okay,” the vet said as he put his palms forward. “Um, okay, sit on the exam table. Let’s have a look at you.”
As the Raven slid onto the table, the vet slowly pulled back the coat covering
