Freaks Under Fire Read Online Free PDF

was answered by the sharp clicks of claws on wood, and then a dark-brown head crowned with floppy ears poked around the corner.
    The pup’s eyes were yellow rather than the more common—and desirable—brown. Right now, those “bird of prey” eyes were eyeing Jay like she was some never before encountered, wholly unpredictable creature.
    “
Hier
!” Jay crouched and clicked her fingers, effectively wafting more “feel good” pheromones in the pup’s direction.
    He crept from behind the wall and stood there, quivering, allowing Jay to get a good look at him.
    A breeder would likely describe the pup’s coloring as solid liver head, ticked liver-and-white body with black saddles. Translation: Solid chocolate-brown head, and a speckled brown and white coat with black patches. And unsuitable for showing or breeding purposes due to aforementioned yellow eyes and black patches.
    If the pup were capable of such emotions, he might well be grateful for his perceived shortcomings, given they had doubtless prevented the breeder from docking his tail—a common practice with this particular breed.
    Jay stared at the pup, unblinking.
    The pup cocked his head and stared back.
    Jay slowly extended her hand. “
Komm
.”
    The little canine yipped, and launched into motion, rocketing toward her and eliciting a startled grunt from Michael, who was still plastered against the wall.
    The pup skidded to an ungainly halt and mashed his muzzle on Jay’s knee. He licked her hand, and then crawled into her lap to sniff her thoroughly. Jay remained perfectly still, allowing the pup to do as he willed. He obviously expected reciprocal attention, and Jay would bet a considerable portion of her monetary wealth that he had been getting a whole lot of it from the Davidson family—especially Caro. But he would have to learn that Jay considered attention a
reward
for appropriate behavior, not a right.
    The pup finally ceased sniffing and licking and wriggling, and lay quietly across Jay’s thighs. He was a quick study—not surprising given the traits of the breed. German Shorthaired Pointers, also known as GSPs, were generally highly intelligent and bold creatures. This pup epitomized the often boisterous nature of the breed, and if care wasn’t taken, that trait could easily become aggressiveness toward owners. In other words, the dog would establish its dominance over its human owner and then treat its owner accordingly. But to Jay’s mind, given the ease with which GSPs could be trained, and their affectionate natures, any such tendency was the fault of inexperienced owners. GSPs were known to flourish with owners who were firm, confident, calm, and consistent. As humans liked to say, it wasn’t rocket science.
    She dropped a palm to the pup’s head and fondled his ears. “
Braver Hund
.”
    “
Braffer hoont
?”
    Michael’s pronunciation was close enough that Jay didn’t feel obliged to correct him. “It means ‘Good dog’,” she said.
    “I guessed as much. Why give commands in German?”
    Jay scooped the pup into the crook of one arm and pushed to her feet. “It seemed appropriate given the origins of the breed.” And would reinforce to the pup that Jay was the one it must obey without hesitation.
    “Ah.” Michael emitted what his daughter Caro had labeled a snort-laugh. “And here I figured it was some super-duper secret canine training method known only to dog whisperers,” he said.
    Jay extended the range of her sensors to pinpoint Tyler’s whereabouts, and headed for the staircase. Her heart rate had escalated. Her mouth had ceased to produce sufficient saliva, and her body was… was….
    She sought a suitable descriptor. Vibrating. No.
Thrumming
—a sensation she had come to recognize signified eagerness and excitement. An all-too-familiar tugging sensation urged her to keep moving. And, if she had been a human fond of fanciful imagery, she would have described herself as propelled by need and want and desire for