Moonsilver Transfusion (Full Moon Medic Book 4) by Daniel Potter

Author:Daniel Potter [Potter, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-20T00:00:00+00:00

33

The first lightning strike hit the next afternoon as I started pondering getting ready for another night shift. Victoria came home from a grocery run and tossed a plastic bottle at me. “Hope you haven’t showered yet because we’re dying your hair.”

Startled, I frowned and picked up the Costco-sized bottle in my lap. “Silver natural, Color for gray hair, Jet Black,” the bottle declared with gold lettering.

I groaned, “I tried that back when it first went white, it doesn’t last through a shift.”

“So?” Victoria crossed her arms, her golden eyes boring into me with a steely determination. “Do it before every shift.”

I nodded meekly. My long white hair instantly identified me and dying it was a logical option. I’d considered doing this myself, but I hadn’t gotten farther than that. In my defense, I’d spent most of the day in wolf mode so I didn’t shift during my shift.

Victoria plopped herself down next to me, but still used every inch of her height to stare me down. “And you work under an assumed name.”

I huffed, and immediately broke eye contact. “Vicky…” I whined, despite knowing I’d lost this argument in wolf terms, “There’s no need for a secret identity. I already don’t introduce myself anymore.”

“Cliff can order a new name tag. I’m sure of it.”

She wasn’t wrong. That was the least Cliff turned out to be prepared to do.

As soon as I set foot in the firehouse with newly blackened hair, Cliff barked, “Abby! My office, now!”

The tone and gruffness of his voice made me do a double take to make sure that it was indeed Cliff, and not his father somehow returned from the grave. With a sense of foreboding, I went into that office to find a stern-faced Cliff sitting behind a desk that had been pulled to the center of the room. A chair waited for me in front of it. A direct imitation of how the late Mr. Gifford had handled disciplinary talks, right down to the tight-lipped mouth, set jaw and intense eyes.

Yet Cliff couldn’t hide the scent of his anxiety or the nervous bob of his Adam’s apple when I entered the room.

“Are you firing me, Cliff?” I cracked a smile as the door latched behind me.

“No.” The corner of his mouth barely twitched. “Just sit down, Abby. Please.” The last part came out as a tired plea.

“Victoria already made me dye my hair. What do you want me to do?” I said as I sat in the chair and smoothed my pant legs. Wolf me stirred from her slumber, ears perking.

“You’re not going out tonight, Abby. Not for a while,” he whispered. Unlike Victoria, there was no wolf-like stare down. Instead he looked down at his fingers on the table, one nervously tapping on the counter top.

On one level, I’d seen this coming, but it still hit me like a punch in the gut.

“Cliff, come on. I’ll be more careful. I promise. Besides, I really need the money. I’ve got a hospital bill coming, and I gave up my insurance when I went part time.

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