arms around them. I press my
face into my legs and let it come out, despite the traffic the next
street over. It doesn’t matter.
A plaintive whine fills the silence and my
hound nudges my arm, his nose cold and wet against my skin. “Oh,
little freak,” I say on a sigh, dragging my fingers through his
fur. The hound sits down, scooting towards me. I wrap an arm around
his neck, pulling him close, but he doesn’t care. He just wags his
tail, slow and steady.
“I’ve screwed everything up. I like him. I
really like him. But it’s just…not safe. I refuse to hurt him.” It
comes tumbling out of me. I press my face against his head and let
tears soak his fur.
Then my hound vibrates with a low rumble and
I pull away. He’s staring across the street, to where another
cyberhound stands, his hackles and tail raised. His eye glows red
in the darkness and he looks like something off a horror movie.
Freak steps forwards and they exchange growls. I jump to my
feet.
My hound glances back at me, a sort of sad
look on his face, and he drops his head, but doesn’t move. He
stands between me and the bigger cyberhound, as if warning him
away, but it doesn’t work.
In two bounds, the bigger male is on top of
Freak, fangs sinking into his neck. My hound shrieks and growls,
twisting underneath the jaws of the other. I see blood darken
Freak’s coat and I can’t stand to watch.
“Luce!” Sync cries as I lunge towards the
fight, barely dodging the snap of Freak’s fangs. I straddle the
bigger hound, my fingers wrapping around his ears, jerking them
backwards. His real eye, pale blue and cold as dry ice, rolls back
towards me and his lips wrinkle back to show fangs. I kick his
underside with my boot and he tries to get out from under me. I
yank on his ears and scream at him until my throat is raw.
He bucks and I hit the ground hard, the air
whooshing out of my lungs. I swing my fist back, ready to slam it
into the hound’s ugly face, when I’m jerked to my feet. The air
shimmers and crackles with magic, like a Portal, and in the
cyberhound’s place is a lean man with a cybernetic arm, his metal
fingers tight around my wrist.
Holy slag.
He jerks me closer, the human side of his
face still animalistic in its snarl. The other side of his face is
all freaky and metal. “Mind your own damn business,” he snaps, then
shoves me away.
I stagger back just as he spins, turning back
into his cyborg-hound self. Freak gives me a pained look with his
one soulful, suddenly familiar chocolate eye, then bolts down the
street at a gallop. The other hound roars and races after him and I
watch until I can’t see them against the darkness anymore.
Even then, I just stand there, staring into
the night, shock ebbing over me like a slow tide.
If cyberhounds can turn into men with
hollowed robot faces…
Anyone could be a hound. Anyone at all.
Except—
My thoughts fly to Iofiel, to the leather
mask he always wears to cover the left side of his face, to hide
the scarring from an accident in his youth. But what if it isn’t a
scar at all…? What if it’s more than that?
What if Freak is Iofiel?
Chapter 9:
Iofiel
I barely make it out of city limits and
Lylan’s on top of me, his fangs scoring into the back of my neck,
ripping until pain lances through my skin. I stagger under his
weight—he’s at least a hundred pounds heavier than me—and my paws
slide on the gravel. My chest hits the ground hard and I yelp,
twisting to my back. I curl my legs against my belly and offer my
throat with a pitiful whimper.
Lylan’s seething. I can feel his anger
blossoming off him like heat on pavement, hitting me with the
stench of fury. I lay motionless, whistling breaths out through my
nose despite the storm warring in my stomach.
Lucy. What if he goes after Lucy?
His muzzle closes around mine, sharp and hard
enough to bring tears to my eyes, before he gets up. He shifts, his
form shimmering for a moment, the hound replaced by a
face into my legs and let it come out, despite the traffic the next
street over. It doesn’t matter.
A plaintive whine fills the silence and my
hound nudges my arm, his nose cold and wet against my skin. “Oh,
little freak,” I say on a sigh, dragging my fingers through his
fur. The hound sits down, scooting towards me. I wrap an arm around
his neck, pulling him close, but he doesn’t care. He just wags his
tail, slow and steady.
“I’ve screwed everything up. I like him. I
really like him. But it’s just…not safe. I refuse to hurt him.” It
comes tumbling out of me. I press my face against his head and let
tears soak his fur.
Then my hound vibrates with a low rumble and
I pull away. He’s staring across the street, to where another
cyberhound stands, his hackles and tail raised. His eye glows red
in the darkness and he looks like something off a horror movie.
Freak steps forwards and they exchange growls. I jump to my
feet.
My hound glances back at me, a sort of sad
look on his face, and he drops his head, but doesn’t move. He
stands between me and the bigger cyberhound, as if warning him
away, but it doesn’t work.
In two bounds, the bigger male is on top of
Freak, fangs sinking into his neck. My hound shrieks and growls,
twisting underneath the jaws of the other. I see blood darken
Freak’s coat and I can’t stand to watch.
“Luce!” Sync cries as I lunge towards the
fight, barely dodging the snap of Freak’s fangs. I straddle the
bigger hound, my fingers wrapping around his ears, jerking them
backwards. His real eye, pale blue and cold as dry ice, rolls back
towards me and his lips wrinkle back to show fangs. I kick his
underside with my boot and he tries to get out from under me. I
yank on his ears and scream at him until my throat is raw.
He bucks and I hit the ground hard, the air
whooshing out of my lungs. I swing my fist back, ready to slam it
into the hound’s ugly face, when I’m jerked to my feet. The air
shimmers and crackles with magic, like a Portal, and in the
cyberhound’s place is a lean man with a cybernetic arm, his metal
fingers tight around my wrist.
Holy slag.
He jerks me closer, the human side of his
face still animalistic in its snarl. The other side of his face is
all freaky and metal. “Mind your own damn business,” he snaps, then
shoves me away.
I stagger back just as he spins, turning back
into his cyborg-hound self. Freak gives me a pained look with his
one soulful, suddenly familiar chocolate eye, then bolts down the
street at a gallop. The other hound roars and races after him and I
watch until I can’t see them against the darkness anymore.
Even then, I just stand there, staring into
the night, shock ebbing over me like a slow tide.
If cyberhounds can turn into men with
hollowed robot faces…
Anyone could be a hound. Anyone at all.
Except—
My thoughts fly to Iofiel, to the leather
mask he always wears to cover the left side of his face, to hide
the scarring from an accident in his youth. But what if it isn’t a
scar at all…? What if it’s more than that?
What if Freak is Iofiel?
Chapter 9:
Iofiel
I barely make it out of city limits and
Lylan’s on top of me, his fangs scoring into the back of my neck,
ripping until pain lances through my skin. I stagger under his
weight—he’s at least a hundred pounds heavier than me—and my paws
slide on the gravel. My chest hits the ground hard and I yelp,
twisting to my back. I curl my legs against my belly and offer my
throat with a pitiful whimper.
Lylan’s seething. I can feel his anger
blossoming off him like heat on pavement, hitting me with the
stench of fury. I lay motionless, whistling breaths out through my
nose despite the storm warring in my stomach.
Lucy. What if he goes after Lucy?
His muzzle closes around mine, sharp and hard
enough to bring tears to my eyes, before he gets up. He shifts, his
form shimmering for a moment, the hound replaced by a
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