Page 14 of Huntress

The hound’s existence and his supplicant behavior made the shame even worse. His size had shrunken down again, his body curled low to the ground, readying himself for pain as soon as Clairemont had mentioned the prod. He couldn’t suppress the trembling in his muscles, or the fear telegraphing straight into the hollow of her chest.

“I’ll teach you the basic commands he already knows. First is heel. You don’t want him crowding your space or showing any dominance. Walk forward, jerk the leash, and give the command with authority,” Clairemont instructed.

“Will it shock him?”

“It’s a warning. If he doesn’t listen, he will receive a shock. There’s a trigger at the center of the cuff, hanging near your palm. Keep your thumb over it until he learns to obey you,” he said.

Elsie cleared her throat, smoothing away any errant emotions that might be showing on her face. She gave the leash a single, sharp snap.

“Heel,” she commanded, stepping forward. The demon paced exactly two steps behind her. The novelty wasn’t enough to mask the discomfort at having a massive demon stalking behind her. She’d seen her mother’s shadow wolf attack her from the same position many times, and he was just angry. A terrified demon was far more deadly.

Clairemont had trained the hound to put his handler in a vulnerable position, driven by an inflated ego and false sense of superiority. She suspected it stemmed from the beastmaster’s need to be in charge, rather than rational thought.

They walked around the training grounds twice while the sky threatened heavier rain. The wind picked up, tossing loose strands of her hair around. Elsie experimented, stepping to the side, stopping, and backing up without a word or signal to the demon. Everywhere she went, he stayed exactly where he’d been taught to be.

“Good boy,” she murmured, then raised her voice to be heard above the wind. “Simple enough. What’s the next command?”

“Down,” he answered. The demon dropped to his belly immediately. “Shock him.”

“What? Why?” Elsie demanded, narrowing her eyes. She wouldn’t comply, regardless of his reasoning. “He did what you told him.”

“He must only respond to his master, which is the person holding the leash. If he responds to anybody giving commands, he’ll be useless to you out in the field, and that’s the ultimate goal here, isn’t it? To make this hound fight your battles for you?” Clairemont questioned.

The way he worded it sat wrong with her. If the demon’s master was whoever held his leash, anyone could take control. Clairemont thought nothing of loyalty or earning trust and respect. He wanted a mindless beast controlled through fear.

“You don’t have to listen to him anymore. The leash doesn’t matter, you only have to listen to me,” Elsie said, too quietly for Clairemont to hear. She tugged at the leash, gently this time. “Heel.”

He responded exactly as she wished. She stopped. “Down.” He dropped. “Good boy.”

“Do not speak to him unless issuing a command. It will confuse him if he’s listening for new commands he won’t understand,” he sighed, as though he were speaking with a deliberately obtuse child. Elsie frowned. Had the beastmaster never conversed with a demon? How could he understand them if he wouldn’t even speak with them?

She kept doing whatever she wanted and continued getting perfect results. “We obviously have these two down, what’s next?”

“Present.”

“Okay… Present?” The hound sat on his haunches, then lifted his chin into the air. Elsie cocked her head and asked, “Is that what he’s supposed to do?”

“That command is for removing and reattaching the leash. It keeps his mind focused on obeying while putting his teeth out of harm's way.”

“I see. Have you worked with him off-leash?”

“Yes, within the confines of the arena. You are not prepared for–”

Elsie stood on her toes, reached up, and unleashed him. Clairemont sputtered for several seconds.

“Ch–Chantraine! Until you earn my express approval, you are not to take liberties with this demon! You must learn to control him on the leash first. Put it back on!” Clairemont demanded, his voice shrill.

Elsie couldn’t help but enjoy the quivering little shake in his voice. She held up her end of the lead. “This button is the remote, right?” she asked.

“Obviously. Now stop playing games.”

“Heel,” Elsie commanded. The hound hesitated for a fraction of a second, then followed. This limping, cowering creature needed compassion, not brutality. She pitied him, and she refused to rely on the leash to enforce her orders.

If this demon was going to be her companion, they might as well start building trust between them. He was cautious, but curious enough to listen. He stayed behind her, eyeing the remote in her hand.

Elsie turned back toward him. “I’d feel a lot more comfortable if you’d walk at my side,” she said. His lips curled ever so slightly, betraying his displeasure. It was nothing compared to the outright threats her mother’s shadow wolf had made in her childhood, but it was Clairemont’s last straw.

He closed the distance between them, yanked the leash out of her hand, and slammed down the button. The hound jerked as he was hit with the voltage; a low grunt escaped his throat when he hit the ground. Clairemont struck him with the long metal rod, again and again until the hound stopped moving. He lay there submissively, his eyes closed, belly up.