Hell's Menagerie Read Free

menagerie, where three long rows of cages spread out before them. It was hotter inside than outside. Sweat beaded on Emma’s forehead and dripped down her back. The smell of manure, dung, urine, and bedding, warmed in the Telmath heat, made her stomach clench into a hard knot.
    They were only a few steps in when someone called to them.
    A tall darkling fae approached, scolding the ticket taker as he passed. His skin was a dull luminescent gray. He wore a black suit with a white silk scarf tucked into the lapels, a high-collared white shirt, and a black satin top hat. His wide eyes were a pale mauve shade, and his lips were painted black.
    He had a narrow face, all angles and prominence.
    His words changed from Charbydon to English. “No beasts allowed in the tent.” His voice was deep and almost musical, a smooth, creepy tone that lifted the fine hairs on Emma’s arms.
    The fae stopped in front of them and eyed Brim with interest.
    Brim shifted his weight from paw to paw, wanting desperately to attack.
    Please, Brim, no. Not yet.
    From Brim’s reaction, she knew the fae had the scent of the pups all over him. Sweat trailed down her temples as she tried her best to mentally convince him to wait.
    Just wait a little longer. Please, trust me.
    â€”
    REX MOVED SLIGHTLY in front of Brim and Emma, not liking the look of this guy one bit—like hell’s version of a ringmaster, with the eyes of a snake and the aura of a weasel—and from the antsy way Brim was acting and the fear he’d glimpsed in Em’s eyes, neither did they.
    â€œThe hound stays with us,” Rex said.
    â€œHumans don’t usually travel with such . . . company, and with one so tame, it seems. Still, no pets allowed.”
    â€œHe’s not a pet. He’s in training under special permit 6673 of the ITF Weapons Research Allowance. He is permitted to stay with us, even in Charbydon.”
    The fae’s wide lips spread to reveal blunt yellowed teeth. “Humans training hellhounds. How . . . novel. Good luck with that.” His expression became nonchalant. He sighed. “It’s not the most unusual thing I’ve heard of, I suppose.”
    â€œShouldn’t be. You train hellhounds and other beasts for the performances, don’t you?” Rex countered easily, when what he really wanted to do was knock out some of those blunt teeth.
    The fae paused thoughtfully. “We do. Yes. You should come to our performance tonight.”
    The fae watched Emma and Brim a little too closely for Rex’s comfort. Her hand was on Brim’s collar and her eyes were lost in thought—a good sign she was in communication with the hellhound.
    â€œIt takes a special person to train a hellhound,” the fae went on. “The beasts are such rarities these days, especially the males. Most have disappeared into the Charbydon wilds. Others that lurk on the edges of society are too hard to catch, too dangerous to try . . . They are prized beasts. Where did you get yours?”
    â€œHe was illegally imported,” Rex answered carefully. “Found by law enforcement. The rest is history.”
    â€œAh. Well, that makes training a little easier, doesn’t it? When they’re already in the hands of human or off-worlder. Really, they must be born into it. The ones captured in the wild are completely untrainable and put to . . . other uses.”
    Em gasped. Brim lunged forward, but she grabbed at his collar, struggling to hold him back while muttering to him under her breath. Once he settled, she turned her attention to the fae, hercheeks reddened by rage. “You mean death matches. They don’t deserve that. Who are you to decide that for them?”
    Saliva dripped from Brim’s mouth; his red eyes fixed on the fae with laser focus.
    One eyebrow rose, the fae obviously not affected by her outburst. “Who are you to decide the fate which you have