All things real and myth.., p.1
All Things Real and Mythical (Secrets of Sagan Book 1), page 1
ALL THINGS REAL AND MYTHICAL
A SECRETS OF SAGAN NOVEL
BOOK 1
NICOLE KIMMONS
CONTENTS
Content Warnings
Map
Prologue
1. Charlotte
2. Levi
3. Charlotte
4. Charlotte
5. Levi
6. Charlotte
7. Levi
8. Levi
9. Charlotte
10. Charlotte
11. Charlotte
12. Levi
13. Charlotte
14. Levi
15. Charlotte
16. Levi
17. Charlotte
18. Levi
19. Levi
20. Charlotte
21. Charlotte
22. Levi
23. Charlotte
24. Charlotte
25. Levi
26. Charlotte
27. Levi
28. Levi
29. Charlotte
30. Levi
31. Charlotte
32. Levi
33. Charlotte
34. Levi
35. Charlotte
36. Levi
37. Charlotte
38. Levi
39. Charlotte
40. Charlotte
41. Levi
42. Levi
43. Charlotte
44. Charlotte
45. Levi
46. Charlotte
Epilogue
Author Note
About the Author
Copyright © 2023 by Nicole Kimmons
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Any reproduction of this publication without prior consent from the publisher is an infringement of copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Any medical references in this book are not intended for educational purposes. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Published by Twin Golden Flames Publishing
Book cover design by We Got You Covered Book Design
www.wegotyoucoveredbookdesign.com
To the starfish throwers.
CONTENT WARNINGS
Animal death, animal harm, death of a pet, suicidal thoughts and actions, intrusive thoughts, profanity, explicit sex, dubious consent, alcohol use, mentions of gambling, kidnapping, graphic depictions of violence, injury to a minor, medical/veterinary references
If you or anyone you know is contemplating suicide, please reach out to your local helpline.
In the United states you can call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline by dialing 988.
You can also text the crisis text line by sending “HOME” to 741741
You are not alone.
PROLOGUE
QUINN
Many years ago
Memories slammed into me with a force strong enough to knock me over. Images of a land I’d never seen. A life I never lived. Or had I?
My head pounded as I recalled my name coming from a friend. From Wilbur. I knew him—we used to hike in the woods behind my house pretending we were wolves. But I was a wolf. Son of Fallon, the pack leader. Wilbur didn’t know because he had never met this version of me. He was human in a place where magic didn’t exist, where I was nothing more than mortal.
What was happening to me? Was this a past life? I couldn’t grasp how I was able to know these things as if I had lived two separate lives in worlds vastly different from one another.
The sharp stabbing returned as more events replayed. I grasped my temples tightly between my palms, hoping it would help stop the throbbing. My breaths were ragged and my heart beat with a rapid fierceness I could feel pulsing through every vein in my body.
Voices whispered around me in a blur of syllables I could piece together about as well as I could connect what was happening in my head. Just when it felt like I couldn’t take another second of the confusion, everything stopped. I had relived two versions of my childhood, but this memory didn’t seem to come from either of them.
Two figures stood before me on a never-ending pool of crystal blue, glowing as if the light of the moon was shining from below. Above us was a sky of deep violet, indigo, and hints of pink, filled with more stars than I had ever seen. One of them approached me. Though I couldn’t see her features, I felt the warmth of her invisible smile. Who was she?
When she placed a hand on my shoulder and knelt before me, all the pain I carried vanished. A calmness melted over me, relaxing my body beneath her fingers.
“Quinn, you have been chosen. The future of Sagan rests in your hands.”
ONE
CHARLOTTE
“It’s impossible to have a bad day when it starts with a puppy in your arms.” I smile at Minnie, the small beagle, hoping saying the words out loud will convince me they are true. Her puppy coat is soft against my fingers as she wags her tail with violent enthusiasm. She’s undeniably adorable.
Still, I can’t shake the sense of unease that settles in me like a cat purring in my lap. Normally, I have a better idea of what the strange omens that often plague me are. Like a few weeks ago, when I came into work and told my tech, Lexi, not to set up for surgery. I couldn’t explain it, but something in my bones knew it was pointless. She was confused, but every appointment we had that morning ended up canceling or no-showing, just as I predicted.
Or the occasional patient who wakes up from anesthesia with an explosive reaction and wrecks everything in their path, even themselves, before consciousness brings them back. I can pick them out every time before it gets bad by trusting my unique gut feeling. Today, however, I can’t solve the mystery. All I know is something is going to happen, and I don’t think it’s going to be good.
When Minnie yawns, I’m forced to do the same. Maybe this forewarning isn’t my sixth sense, it’s a product of my lack of sleep. Every muscle in me was screaming its exhaustion when I finally landed in my bed last night. Too bad they alone couldn’t whisk me away into an unconscious slumber. Instead, my annoying mind kept me up, a wild horse running through the plains. It held a pace so fast it was almost as if it were preparing to sprout wings and fly. Which isn’t anything new. Except this time, it traveled all the way to the depths of fears I didn’t even know I had. The very odd reality of life and the thought of it being gone one day. An eternity of unconsciousness. Even the reminder sends chills scattering throughout my body.
There was no possibility of sleeping after working my nerves into a panic. Rather than stare blankly at the wall for far longer than any normal human should, another bad habit of mine lately, I busied my mind by watching a documentary about North America’s native wildlife.
Minnie licks the side of my face, bringing a smile to my lips. My eyes meet her dark brown ones, and my insides melt. She’s right, I can’t dwell on this. As my old principal used to announce on the intercom every morning, make it a great day or not, the choice is yours. I’ll just have to cast the tiredness and weird premonition away. Easy enough. I do this all the time.
“Getting paid to play with puppies is what we do.” Emily winks with a hint of sarcasm in her words. I echo back her sentiment.
“Of course. It’s the best job in the world. Everyone wants this.” We both giggle as I hand the little dog away. My veterinary assistants are no stranger to the rigors of our profession. Especially on days like today, with a full schedule of patients and an early close scheduled. Working at Hillside Animal Hospital is an adventure, to say the least.
I take in a deep breath, bracing my hands on my hips. A hero pose I learned in vet school to build confidence. It hasn’t worked before, but I still try it.
“Are you ready to premed the best cat in the world?” Katie cuddles Jay Catsby close to her body before setting him down in front of me for his preoperative injections. He raises his back as I pet along his spine, purring beneath my fingers.
“If only every cat loved seeing me as much as you do,” I baby talk to him. His giant green eyes close when I rub under his chin. Katie might be biased as the resident cat person, but I would have to agree with her assessment of Jay. He is the best.
I double check the medications to help us sedate him. It’s the right dose and the right drug, but I still look a third time to be safe. I’ve done this countless times. My hands shouldn’t be threatening to tremble, my throat shouldn’t be tightening, my gut shouldn’t feel as if I ate a bag of rocks for breakfast.
My heart beats heavily as I quickly administer the medication. Instantaneously, Jay screams loudly, reverberating throughout the treatment area. His legs buck violently and he crocodile rolls away from Katie’s hold, all while simultaneously hissing and spitting. We both stare incredulously at the cartoonish scene playing in front of our eyes. Then in a single blink, he launches himself off the table.
Katie reacts before I can and attempts to grab him.
“Be careful. I don’t want you to get bitten,” I warn her as I process what just happened. Some injections can sting, but I've never seen a reaction completely change the personality of an animal before. There’s a voice in me whispering how I should have known this would happen, but I can’t give in t o her now. Being the only doctor means I’m responsible for his safety, for my staff’s safety. I don’t have time to wallow now.
“I’m so sorry,” Katie pleads.
“Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong.” No one could have held Jay when he was reacting like he did.
Together, we manage to corral him into a corner under the desk. His black fur blends in with the shadows, camouflaging him to anyone but the two of us who watched him explode. We can’t reach in there with our hands, we’d be asking to get hurt. His kennel isn’t large enough to force him in. He’d have room to jump around it. There might be a large box we can use in the back. It’s our best bet.
When I stand up, I meet Katie’s concerned stare. Not for Jay but aimed toward me. “It wasn’t your fault either, Dr. Woods. You couldn’t have known.”
But I did know. Didn’t I? I knew something wasn’t right when I was giving the medications. What I didn’t understand is how I still felt the unease. It hadn’t receded at all, making nausea pool in my gut at the expectation more will go wrong today. Or something worse than our current situation.
A foul smell wafts into the air around me, one I’m far more familiar with than anyone would ever hope to be, like a physical manifestation of this day.
“Minnie made a mess all over her kennel. It’s everywhere.” Emily holds the small beagle in the air, keeping her as far away from her body as she can. Another delay for our morning. I want to be upset but the puppies' eyes carry more guilt and sorrow than my heart can take.
“I guess it’s just a shitty morning all around,” I announce. At least this is a simple mess to clean.
People aren’t meant to be lonely. We’re social creatures by nature. Though sometimes our companionship doesn’t come from another human. No, more often these days we find our best friends wag their tails, purr, or simply sit in silence as they listen to all the things we never have the courage to tell anyone else. It’s why people grieve for their pets as much as they do any other family member.
I can only imagine the moments of joy Coco brought to her family. Her sugar-dusted face and puppy attitude brighten my day every time I see her walk through the door. She’s one of my favorite patients. Her tail beats against the floor as I kneel to greet her. With a wide mouth panting and tongue hanging out, it almost appears as if she’s smiling. You’d never know she couldn’t walk, or that she could no longer control her bladder. She’d lost weight since her last visit too, the decrease in muscle mass evident as I pet her.
Knowing what call needs to be made isn’t easy though. With every appointment like this, I wonder if it’s coming too soon. If there’s more I could have done. But doubt is a trickster. It can prolong hope as easily as it can hold on to suffering. If you’re not careful, it will eat away at your mind until it consumes you entirely. Instead, I will myself away from the moment, shutting everything out.
Mr. Evanson stands in the corner, an unbreaking wall, throughout the appointment as his wife curls her body over Coco. The muted lights and cushioned sofa aim to make this designated room more soothing for owners saying goodbye. For me it’s a graveyard, solemnly depressing. Every heartbreak sticks to the walls, the air thickened by the ghosts who haunt this space.
After confirming she has passed, I know it’s time for me to make my leave. Mrs. Evanson has already excused herself.
“If you need anything let me know.” Bowing my head slightly, I catch the subtle rise of Mr. Evanson’s chest hinting he’s about to speak.
“I never wanted a dog.” There’s a tremble in his tone I wasn’t expecting. It sinks its way into my throat. “They dropped her off when she was a small pup. After three weeks I knew we weren’t giving her back. She’s been the best thing to ever happen to us.”
Don’t cry. I repeat over and over, fighting against every instinct in my body as he pours his story out, falling apart in front of me. It’s a battle to shove my emotions into the territory I’ve designated for them. The space is becoming cramped lately, yet it’s what has to be done. Being strong for him is my top priority.
It feels longer than it really is for his wife to return, usher him out, and take him home. I walk out of the room through the opposite door and sink back into the wall, allowing it to be the sole thing holding me up, fighting feelings I’m not allowed to have right now. Tears bang behind my eyelids, begging to be released. I’ve never struggled before, but today I’m barely able to banish the burn in my lungs. Demons creep in whispering sinful thoughts. She looked so peaceful as she passed. You could feel that too, just close your eyes and drift off. Wouldn’t that be nice?
“Hey Dr. Woods, Ithan is here,” Emily calls, setting my heart into a leap. I didn’t think anyone was watching.
Though she couldn’t possibly hear where my mind was heading, embarrassment creeps up, nonetheless. Nausea forms in my stomach for allowing such foreign thoughts. It’s just from being tired, I remind myself. Sleep will return them to the depths of my subconscious, where they belong.
“I’ll be right there.” A small break is all I need to refocus. Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths to prepare myself for my final appointment of the day. One more. I can do this.
“He’s vomited three times while waiting.” Emily lifts off the counter she was leaning on. Her eyes gleam as if to say, you know where this is heading. Biting inside my lips and fidgeting with my nails, I make my way toward the fridge, but I should have guessed she was prepared. “I already took out a parvo test.”
This puppy is ten weeks old. It’s not the only possibility, but it’s always on my list of concerns. I hope our intuitions are wrong this time, even as the voice in me sinfully says we’re not.
Forcing a peppy persona like a customer service representative, we stroll in to greet them. Ithan is resting in the arms of his mom, Ms. Langley. A tiny German shepherd puppy with ears too large and heavy to stand on their own. Normally for a suspected parvo puppy I’d change my clothes and treat them as I would any isolation patient. With it being the end of the day, though, I’ll just change before I leave and have my scrubs bleached here.
Ms. Langley is pleasant. She agrees to the test as well as a fecal exam for other intestinal parasites. Katie joins Emily and me as we watch two little blue dots become visible on the snap test we use. Ithan definitely has parvovirus. We exchange glances as our hearts break for the puppy. He’s got a tough road ahead of him, but it’s not impossible.
“I’ll get the bleach mop ready for the lobby.” Katie sighs, heading to the storage closet.
“You didn’t touch him, did you?” I turn to Emily knowing the hesitation I’ll find in her. She has a new puppy at home she adopted about a month ago. I know she’s afraid for him.
“No.”
“Good. I’ll finish this appointment myself. If you could help Katie finish closing duties, that would be great.”
“Thank you.” She smiles before stepping away to join Katie.
Ms. Langley is ending a phone call when I join her and Ithan once more. I roll the stool over to sit in front of her. Having to deliver bad news in a time as exciting as bringing home a new puppy is one of my least favorite parts of my job. She smiles brightly, blonde curls the same color as mine framing her face. Unlike me, she has no roots showing.
