The Reluctant Goddess (The Montgomery Chronicles Book 2) by Karen Ranney Page B

needed to know in case of something horrible happened outside of normal business hours.  
    I read the section on heartworm medication, feeling a surge of guilt again. I hadn't put Charlie on heartworm medication. That was really bad of me. But hopefully, his previous owners had done so and the month or so he’d been with me wouldn't hurt him. Regardless of the outcome of today's visit, he had to start on the medication.
    I filled out what I could, listing his name and the address at the castle. In the comments I wrote that Charlie seemed to be healthy, otherwise. Nor did I add that I’d thought he was a shape shifter at one time, or that Charlie had been extraordinarily loyal to me. He’d saved my life and had actually bitten a master vampire. Maybe he should have some blood tests done.
    The far door opened and a man who looked to be nearly seven feet tall entered the room.
    His scrubs were a light green. His hair was sandy colored and disheveled. His face, long and marked by lines that would one day be deep wrinkles, was made handsome by a wide smile and sparkling brown eyes.  
    I liked him immediately.  
    "Hello," he said and identified himself as Dr. Kroenig. "What seems to be the problem, today?" he asked, bending down and coaxing Charlie out from beneath the chair.  
    I didn’t blame Charlie for his fickleness, either. I probably would have done the same.  
    Instead of lifting Charlie up to the stainless steel table, Dr. Kroenig simply sat crosslegged on the floor. For the next few minutes, his comments were directed toward Charlie, not me.
    Finally, he looked up at me. "You were in an accident?"
    "An explosion, actually," I said. "Some plaster walls were destroyed.”  
    “And this guy inhaled a lot of dust,” he said.  
    He explained that he wanted to keep Charlie for a few hours, make sure his respiration hadn’t been affected. He might have to give him oxygen. He recommended that I go home and return in four hours. If anything changed in the interim, he’d give me a call.  
    As long as I was feeling guilty, I might as well be completely honest.  
    “I think he needs his shots, too,” I said. “And heartworm medication.” I explained that I’d found Charlie as a stray.  
    “We’ll get him taken care of,” he said. Standing, he went to the computer mounted on the wall and punched in a few numbers. “We’ll do some blood tests, too, just to make sure he’s okay.”  
    When he announced the cost of the visit, I gulped, thanked my lucky stars that I had a hefty bank balance and decided that guilt had a price tag.  
    “That’s fine,” I said.  
    I bent down to scratch Charlie behind the ears.
    “But you think he’ll be all right?”  
    Please let him be all right.  
    “I think he’ll be fine, won’t you boy?”  
    Tucked in behind that jovial tone was a message: no thanks to you, lady.  
    Guilt had a voiceover now.  
    I watched as Dr. Kroenig led Charlie out of the room, into the inner sanctum of the animal hospital. Charlie looked back at me once, as if to say, “Why are you leaving me here, Marcie? Don’t you love me anymore?”  
    I stood there, swamped with emotion, feeling lower than a worm with a tall silk hat on. Until I opened the door of the clinic to find that my shadow had returned, with company.  
    Dan and Mike were standing there waiting for me.  
    Neither one of them looked happy to see me.
    The thing about guilt: it doesn't hang around in the presence of irritation. Being annoyed kind of burns the guilt away like the sun does fog.
    I met their glares with a frown of my own, standing there with my arms folded, my hair no doubt a strange shade of white. My face was beginning to itch and I thought it was from plaster dust. Or I was allergic to being chastised. Either one was possible.  
    "Do you want to explain yourself?” Dan said.
    "No," I said.
    There, an adult response.  
    He was my host, not my guardian. He wasn't my keeper and he certainly wasn't my