Making Monsters (2 page)

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 most things, Kurth simply got his way.

Shai woke to the sound of growling and started at the blood and feathers on the ground before her. Then she noticed the paws resting on either side of that pile and remembered. Not a nightmare then, no more so than that memory she had been reliving in her sleep at least. One day perhaps this too would be nothing more than a memory that haunted her in slumber.

She rose and followed her own trail back to that of her companions. The memories of how Kurth had used her put his scent in her nose like a foul perfume. With a snarl, she resumed pursuit.

Shortly after noon, she began a careful trek around a village, staying close, but well within the shadows of the meager woods. The scent of the others continued into the village, but she was confident she would find it again on the other side. They wouldn’t hide out this close to the scene of their crime.

Patient. Quiet. Stealthy. She moved around the village, her nose to the ground and her ears tuned to the sounds around her. She could smell people and the aroma made her salivate. As predicted, she soon found their scent again. Jervis, Mar, and Kurth had left on the southernmost road from the village around dawn judging by the strength of the scent trail. They were fools for daring to stay the night there. Had she not dispatched the lead rider, the hunters would be hot on their trail by now and would most likely have them by morning.

Resisting the urge to howl out success, she broke into a long lope, leaving the village behind. Excitement energized her so that the forest seemed to move, working its way around her, and she flowed forward on the tide of her own will. Four legs drove into the ground, consuming yards with each long, powerful stride, yet she felt no fatigue. It was almost time to rejoin those who had left her behind, abandoning her to this fate. So engrossed was she in the chase that she traveled through the night and almost loped into their camp at dawn. The acrid smell of a recently doused campfire stung her nose. Her head and tail dropped, lowering into a wary, stalking posture.

“We should get moving.”

It was Jervis. He sounded uncomfortable and reeked with the sour tang of fear. The pale light of dawn upped the risk, but she needed to hear their words. Slinking in close where she could see them through the spare foliage of a small bush, she sank to her belly and waited.

“Will you stop.” Kurth snarled and she softly echoed it with her new voice. “No one’s going to catch us.”

She could see his predatory smile as he held up a sparkling object before them. They had stolen the jeweled mask fashioned for the tomb of Lord Ithar’s ailing father, the mask that would make him beautiful and welcome in the afterlife. Ithar had to have known something as extravagant as the gold mask would tempt thieves.

“We’ll need to break it down to sell it. Almost a shame to destroy such a pretty piece, eh boys?”

Jervis knew better than to reply. The comment wasn’t made in want of a response. Mar, however, emerged from his brooding and stood, glowering at Kurth.

“I thought you said you had a buyer lined up?”

“Does it matter?” Kurth held out the mask to him. “You want to return it?”

Mar stepped back.

Kurth nodded as if he had expected as much and turned the mask in the morning light to admire it. “We can live like kings on what this thing is worth.”

“Was it worth my sister do you think?”

Mar’s bitter tone eased her disappointment in him. He was her brother. She needed to believe he hadn’t wanted to leave her.

Kurth slipped the mask back into his pack and stood, nearly a hand taller than Mar. His eyes narrowed. He scowled at her brother and her hackles went up.

“If you don’t think so then we’ll just split your share.”

“The whole blasted mask wouldn’t be enough.” Mar spoke bravely enough, but she could see his weight shift with uncertainty.

Kurth shoved him and Mar landed hard on his tailbone. “Maybe we should leave you here, then. Give Ithar’s hunters some more meat to chew on.”

Shai stood, still behind the bush, and growled. The three boys turned her direction, their conflict forgotten, and even Kurth smelled of fear now. Anger flowed through her, burning in her blood. She took a few long, confident strides out into the open. She was five feet from Jervis now and only a foot farther from Kurth.

Their eyes widened.

Jervis scooted back a few feet, pushing his rear across the ground and pointing one shaking finger at Shai. “That’s one of Ithar’s hounds.”

A maniacal sneer twisted Kurth’s features as he faced her. She could smell the blood pumping through his veins and she began to salivate. If only she could tell him who she was, the moment would be perfect. He drew his knife. His pack dropped to the ground, sending up a cloud of dust. She took one long stride and lunged. Her jaws closed on his throat and blood surged, hot and exhilarating, into her mouth. She closed her teeth, crushing his throat as he fell to the ground. His knife landed useless beside his pack.

Quick. It was too quick and easy for him, for all the ways in which he had mistreated her, but it was too late to change it now.

She held on until a sudden movement drew her attention. Twisting around she buried her teeth in Jervis’ side as he lunged for her with his own knife drawn. Her teeth scraped bone. Jervis curled in on himself as he hit the ground, his moan a victory, and she lunged on him, tearing with her teeth, ripping into every bit of flesh she could get a hold of until his screams stopped.

Her blood pumped loud in her head, drunk on rage and excitement. Still, she had Mar to attend to. She spotted him running away, stumbling over his own feet in his haste, and bolted after him. Catching up with ease, she bit the hem of his pants and pulled his legs out from under him. Mar twisted as he fell and threw his arms up to protect his face and throat. His breath rasped and hysterical sobs shook him. He stank of fear, his blood pounding so fast she could almost hear it. Exhilarating.

Trembling with the effort of restraint, her sides heaving, she stood her ground and waited. After a moment, Mar’s sobs slowed and he peeked out over his arms. His breath hitched when he saw she was still there, but he lowered his arms. Though his face was ghostly pale, she could tell by the rate of his breathing that he was regaining control. He stared hard at her, trying not to see the carnage in the camp.

“Why not kill all of us? That’s why you were sent, isn’t it?”

She sat back on her haunches and gazed at him. They stayed that way for a long moment until Mar’s face opened into an expression of wonder.

“You’re not from Ithar, are you? You were sent to avenge Shai, not get the mask.” His eyes widened and his expression turned reverent.

He looked so pleased with himself that she figured it would do. Rising, she turned away from him and loped back to the camp, flopping down next to the warm ashes of the night’s fire. Through the morning mist, the sun cast a gray light over the spot and the blood looked almost black. After a time Mar returned, his face paling again when he looked over the carnage. He reached to touch her, but she growled a warning. She could smell his blood and it was still tempting.

Mar nodded, pulling his hand back, and began packing. He dug through the other packs, setting aside the mask and stuffing anything of use into his pack. When he was done, he reached for the mask. She jumped up with a fierce bark and Mar leapt back so fast he nearly fell. When he looked at her, it was with a pitiful, begging look. She growled again. She wouldn’t spare his life only to have the hunters catch and kill him later for the mask. Once more, she barked and he sighed. Slinging his pack over one shoulder, he turned and started walking away.

Mar.

His name came out as a soft whine, one he didn’t hear. He went on his way. Settling down by the fire she resolved to wait for a time and make certain he didn’t return for the mask. Then she would move on, leaving fate to decide what would become of the treasure.

Move on to where?

She could return to the woman and the hope of a new body. It was tempting, but as a human girl, she would lose the freedom she had in this form. Perhaps the woman would offer her a place to stay when she had a human body again, but most likely not. She appeared to have more interest in the process than in the long-term outcome. Sleeping in the dirt didn’t seem as contemptible as a dog and she could feed herself. As a human, she would once again be a vulnerable girl, relegated to begging and stealing to survive. At some point, she would fall victim to others like Kurth or perhaps worse. It wasn’t a compelling prospect.

Perhaps she would travel and see some of her world before deciding whether to head back to Lord Ithar’s manor. Eying Kurth, she decided beginning her new adventure would be easier on a full stomach.

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For more about Nikki McCormack visit
http://nikkimccormack.com
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Novel:
The Girl and the Clockwork Cat

Short Work:
In Silence Waiting