Deviltry

Chapter 1: part 3

"Easy, boy," Kyrsha murmured, scratching behind his ears. "Just people being loud and stupid."

"We're not being stupid," Kourtney snapped, though her usual edge was blunted by genuine concern. "We're being realistic. Something is seriously wrong, and pretending it's not won't make it go away."

Dr. Leanne looked up from where she'd been quietly organizing supplies—her version of stress management. "Maybe we should do both. File the report and contact health services. Cover all our bases."

"What if it happens again?" Chrystal's voice was small now, the bravado leaking out of her like air from a punctured balloon. "What if tomorrow someone else just... snaps? What if it's someone bigger? Someone with a weapon?"

The question hung in the air like smoke. They all knew the answer, even if none of them wanted to voice it. They'd gotten lucky today. Kourtney's quick reflexes and Dr. Scarlett's medical training had turned a potential disaster into merely a very bad day. But luck had a way of running out.

"We'll be more careful," Dr. Scarlett said finally, her military bearing evident in the way she held her shoulders. "Two-person rule for all exams until we figure out what's going on. Nobody works alone with clients."

"And if that's not enough?" Kourtney challenged.

Dr. Scarlett's smile was sharp enough to cut glass. "Then we remind them why attacking veterinary staff is a bad idea."

Sampson whimpered again, and Kyrsha realized her own tension was feeding into his. She forced herself to relax, to project the calm confidence he needed from her. But inside, her wolf was still pacing, still snarling at shadows.

Because whatever had taken control of Mr. Patterson today—however briefly—wasn't done. She could feel it in her bones, in the way the air itself seemed to vibrate with potential energy.

The storm was just beginning.

The Mustang's engine rumbled through the evening traffic like a mechanical heartbeat, steady and reassuring in a day that had been anything but. Kyrsha had moved the passenger seat all the way back so Sampson could sit properly without the airbag being a death trap. He filled the space like a furry copilot, his amber eyes watching the world scroll past with alert interest.

Her right hand found the familiar rhythm of petting his thick coat—long strokes from his neck to his shoulders that soothed something jagged in her chest. The repetitive motion was as much for her as it was for him.

What the f**k is going on?

The thought circled her mind like a vulture, picking at the edges of her sanity. A simple flu outbreak in the EU is causing people to lose their actual f*****g minds. That's what it had to be, right? Some kind of psychological contagion, mass hysteria triggered by fear and too much social media.

But that didn't explain the look in Patterson's eyes. The way he'd gone from human to something else in the space of a heartbeat. The warbling sound that had come from his throat like his voice box had forgotten how to make words.

Traffic crept along Sunset Boulevard, giving her too much time to think. Too much time to replay the moment when a routine exam had turned into a life-or-death struggle. Too much time to wonder what would have happened if Kourtney hadn't been there, hadn't reacted so fast.

Sampson leaned into her touch, a soft rumble of contentment vibrating through his massive frame. At least someone was having a good day.

"Just you and me against the world, huh boy?" she murmured, scratching behind his ears. "Same as always."

His tail thumped once against the leather seat, and for the first time since morning, Kyrsha felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. Whatever was happening in the world, whatever weirdness was crawling out of the shadows, she had this. She had her animals, her chosen family, her little corner of controlled chaos.

It would have to be enough.

The city lights blurred past in streaks of neon and shadow as they headed home, where Gladys would probably be waiting with wine and sarcasm and all the comfort of twenty years of friendship. Where Minerva and Hecate would demand attention and treats like the world hadn't shifted on its axis.

Where normal still meant something.

For now.

-end of chapter 1-