The four males—he guessed they were Intuits by the way they looked around—saw him and kept their distance. They knew he was Sanguinati and he was in charge of this town; they couldn’t have come here without receiving that information. But they weren’t used to having contact with his kind, if any of them had had actual contact with any of the terra indigene.

The female, on the other hand, gave him a bright smile and walked up to him, her hand extended. “I’m Barb Debany. My family calls me Bee because my name is Barbara Ellen, which makes my initials B.E., so... Bee. But, new place and all, I would rather be called Barb.”

Wondering why she told him about a name she didn’t want to use, Tolya shook her hand, shifting his palm to smoke for just long enough to get a taste of her blood and know if the chatter was natural or induced by some chemical.

He sensed nothing but the adrenaline made by nerves and excitement.

“Do you have papers, Barb Debany?”

“Oh. Yes.” She opened one of those sacks human females carried, dug around a bit, and finally, looking flushed, produced the letter.

Tolya scanned the document signed by Vlad and Simon Wolfgard. “You’re the one who is going to look after the animals and figure out what to do with them.” He’d flowed through keyholes to unlock doors and release the dogs and cats—animals he’d been told could live outdoors, at least for the summer. Billy Rider, who divided his worktime between Prairie Gold’s ranch and the town’s livery stable, and Tobias Walker had set up areas in the town where they put out food for the dogs and a couple of different spots for the cats’ vittles. The chirpy caged birds were all moved to one house to make it easier to feed them until the “pet person” arrived.

He’d thought the fish in the aquariums were live food for the cats and hadn’t mentioned the creatures to Billy or Tobias, so most of them, by the time someone checked those houses, were floating belly up.

All in all, except for the fish, Tolya thought he’d dealt with the pet problem rather well over the past couple of weeks.

“They told you I’m not a fully qualified vet, didn’t they?” Barb asked, sounding a bit anxious. “I’m just an assistant.”

“You’re more qualified than anyone else here, so now you’re the vet.”

She gulped and turned a little pale, making the freckles across her nose and cheeks stand out.

“For now, we’re providing food and lodging at the town’s hotel and boardinghouse as part of your wages. I believe there is still a room available at the boardinghouse, so you have a choice—if you decide quickly,” he added, seeing the four young men approaching.