Making Monsters Read Free

terror.
    “Sirak?”
    The latch moved. The door swung open. A tall man stood silhouetted by bright afternoon sunlight, a tankard in one hand. His lean face twisted in a clumsy expression of inebriated shock. He was the lead rider of the guards who had pursued them that morning. Panic froze her where she stood.
    “Sirak. I saw you fall into the canyon. How can you be here, and in the manor no less?”
    Remembering her new body, she relaxed and wagged her tail. She could smell the mead on the dog’s master and knew this was far from his first tankard.
    Shai stepped clear of the doorway and he shut it behind her. The dog’s affection for its master surged up through her desire to escape. When he staggered and flopped down on a wooden bench, she trotted over to sit by his leg, the dogs devotion taking control. The man rested his free hand on her head and stroked it, gazing down at her with a drunken grin as Shai fought to regain control.
    “I must confess, Sirak, never before have I had a hound so loyal it returned from the grave.” His smile was bit crooked and his eyes glazed. “Tomorrow at dawn we ride out to hunt those foul thieves and you will again lead my pack. It’ll be good to have you there.”
    They were going after the others tomorrow. Her brother was in danger. Love for Mar overpowered the dog’s affections. As the man tipped his head back and drank from his tankard, she lunged up and closed her teeth around his exposed throat, crushing his windpipe. The dog’s body was far stronger than her human one had been. The man died fast.
    She let go and backed away, trembling with revulsion while she cleaned away the blood around her mouth the only way she could, with her tongue. A sense of loss hung over the dog when she left the dead man and ran in the direction her companions had gone. Four legs stretched long, consuming the ground with intoxicating speed. Her tongue lolled from her mouth and she delighted in the feel of solid muscles and robust lungs working efficiently.
    After a few hours, the sun began to set. She grew tired and hungry. With the instinctive silence of a born hunter, she padded through trees and dry brush. The memory of blood in her mouth was repulsive and yet it made her salivate. The dog took over again. A grouse darted from the brush and she lunged, snapping her jaws closed on the bird’s body. Pinning the grouse to the ground with her front paws, she tore at the creature, ripping strips of flesh from its carcass. Then, uncommonly sated, she dozed off to the memory of a rare filling meal she and her companions had stolen.

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    The rich foods sat heavy in her stomach, making her drowsy, but not so drowsy that she didn’t notice Kurth eyeing her as if he were still hungry and expected her to fix it somehow.
    “Little Bird.” He tossed his head, throwing tawny hair out of his eyes. “It’s time to make your contribution to tonight’s meal.”
    She smiled at him, confused and uncertain, but trusting. “What do you mean?”
    Kurth reached out to her, his smile unsettling, but Mar caught his wrist. “Don’t, Kurth, she’s never done that kind of thing. She doesn’t understand.”
    Kurth scowled at her brother’s hand until he let go, then he smiled a challenging smile. “She has to learn some time.”
    Mar sank back, watching him lead her away from the fire. When they were away from the others, Kurth pushed his hand into the boy’s pants she wore, his fingers rough and demanding as his other hand pulled her to him with a tight grip on the back of her neck.
    “No, Kurth.” She tried to push away. “I’m scared.”
    “You’re not a little girl anymore. You can do your part.”
    He backed her up against the wall of the old barn where they were hiding out. She tried to call for help, but he silenced her with a blow to her cheek. Though she could taste blood where her teeth had cut the inside of her cheek, she still struggled. Kurth overpowered her. She learned that night that with