Menagerie by Rachel Vincent

Author:Rachel Vincent
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2015-06-27T16:00:00+00:00

Geneviève

The pup huddled in one corner of her cage, knees tucked up to her chest, head buried in thin arms folded around her legs. Dirty toes peeked from beneath a curtain of long tangled hair that shone like gold when it was clean, but more often matched the grime the shower hose had managed to cake instead of rinse out.

“What’d the old man say?”

Genni peeked through her hair at the man with the mustache, but squeezed her eyes shut again the second his gaze met hers. Her arms tightened around her legs and her toes curled on the floor of her cage. She made herself as small as she could.

“He told me to make the deal,” the tall man said. Genni knew he was the boss and that his name was Ruyle, though she couldn’t read the letters sewn on his shirt. But her father secretly called him l’imbécile grand, and she thought that suited the tall man much better than his name. “He wants her gone before he gets back next week.”

“But their offer’s an insult. A werewolf bitch in perfect health is worth twice what they’re quoting, and this one’s never even been bred.”

Geneviève cowered even tighter into her corner.

“Decision’s not yours, Clyde,” the tall man said.

“We’re hardly getting paid as it is, and he just bought that arrogant free-range bitch when everyone knows the menagerie’s in trouble,” the shorter man grumbled.

Genni peeked above her arm to see his lip twitch, which made his mustache appear to crawl like a caterpillar.

“The equipment is outdated, the harnesses and muzzles are frayed, and if the government passes that new mandate, we’ll have to upgrade to medical restraint cages. None of that will get any better if he accepts half what the pup’s worth. I’m not taking another pay cut, Ruyle.”

“With any luck, neither of us will have to,” l’imbécile grand snapped. “The old man’s looking at whatever we get for Genni as a down payment on a new bitch we can put in with Claudio. This time next year we’ll have a cute little werewolf pup to sell, and hopefully another to keep in inventory. You know puppies bring in crowds.”

“This one used to,” the mustached man agreed.

Genni peeked through her hair again and saw l’imbécile shrug. “Yeah, but she’s more trouble than she’s worth now. We sell her to All American, and she becomes their problem. Let them try to breed the feral bitch.”

Geneviève whimpered, and the sound of her own fear startled her so badly that she sank her teeth into her forearm until blood filled her mouth. The torn skin hurt, but that was nothing new. Ever since they’d put her in a cage of her own, pain had become a way of life. It was punishment, incentive, and bribe. It was the introduction to and the conclusion of every day. Pain told her to speak. Pain told her to shut up. Pain told her to move, and to be still. Pain was administered more reliably than either food or water, and there was no sure way to avoid it.

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