Free Moonburn by Alisa Sheckley

you do.” Jackie pushed the dogs off, allowing me to get into the car. “Leave her alone, boys, leave her alone! What are you trying to do, ride on home with her? I can’t have all my boys leaving me for Abra, now.”
    Wincing a little, I lowered my window so I could say good-bye to Jackie. “We should meet up at Moondoggie’s for dinner this week. I know Red would love to see you.”
    “Storm might be coming, but we’ll see. Thanks for coming all the way out here,” said Jackie, fishing a cigarette out of her pack and lighting it. As I drove slowly away down the icy drive, I caught her reflection in the rearview mirror, dragging on the Marlboro as if she’d been postponing this smoke for a long time. She looked off into the shadowy woods, searching for Pia. Who seemed to think I was standing in the way of her winning Malachy’s affection.
    I sighed, suddenly bone-tired. Somehow, Jackie must have inadvertently convinced her daughter that I was some kind of man-eater. And in a way, I supposed I was to her what Magda was to me. But I hadn’t actually broken Red and Jackie up, and Magda was a crazy bitch. Still, I wished Jackie could find another man’s photograph for her trailer wall.
    As I backed into my parking space outside the animal clinic, I wondered if I should convince Jackie to come with me to a day spa one of these days. She couldn’t be much more than thirty-eight, and there was really no reason for her to live alone with the dogs. She just needed a little fashion advice, a lot of moisturizer, and agood haircut, none of which were available in Northside.
    As for Pia, it suddenly struck me that the other dogs hadn’t greeted her as a submissive, and that she hadn’t spoken to them as one. She was shy around Malachy and me, but maybe there was another side to Pia.
    People thought wolves and dogs could be categorized as alphas, betas, or omegas, as leaders or followers. Some people even thought that was the way the human world worked. But the truth was more complex. Just as a woman could be a powerful manager at work and then a meek wife at home, or a man could be a tyrant at home and a milquetoast in the office, a wolf could be dominant in one pack, and submissive in another. Status was fairly fluid, and every wolf encounter was filled with nuance and negotiation.
    I had just removed my key from the ignition when I heard a screech of tires as someone burned rubber pulling in beside me. I stepped out of my car, bracing for an animal emergency, and found myself face-to-face with Marlene. She was in acute distress, her face pale and wide-eyed, her coarse black hair still in curlers, and her pink chenille sweater stained with blood.
    “You have to help Queenie! She’s bleeding!”
    I raced to the back of Marlene’s cherry red pickup truck where I saw exactly what I’d been dreading: Queenie, staining a white towel scarlet.
    I didn’t worry about losing control of my temper; with a patient bleeding out in front of me, I snapped into professional mode. “Take the other end of the towel,” I ordered Marlene, who had come up beside me and was staring, horrified, at Queenie. “On my count: one, two, three, now.” As we lifted her I had a moment to think, I wish to hell Pia hadn’t gone home. Then we were at the clinic steps, and I snapped, “Door, somebody get the door,” but Malachy was already there, holding it open.
    “Christ, let’s get her into the operating room,” he said, and I bit back a retort—where did he think I was going, anyway? Marlene’s stringy arms were shaking as we lifted Queenie onto the table.
    “I’ll prepare the surgical tray,” Mal said, brushing Marlene aside as he examined Queenie. “Scrub up, Abra.” I was about to ask him why he didn’t want to operate himself, but then I glanced over and saw my boss palm a pill from his pocket.
    Marlene walked over to the sink as I put on an operating gown, her face old and oddly masculine without makeup. Her eyes did not meet