Free A Feral Darkness by Doranna Durgin

usually with soft exclamations of delight.
           "Hide it under a hat the next time," Emily responded, unruffled. "Go get her, my little hair stylists."
           Already they were behind her, releasing her hair from its braid and finger combing it, as gentle as always.
           "I just learned a new way to braid," Marilee said with enthusiasm. "It'll look so cool with hair this long. It's called a fishtail braid."
           "Now that sounds attractive," Brenna said, but she slid down in the chair so she could relax, the groomer being groomed. If only half her own canine clients could learn to enjoy the tug and massage of the process.
           Of course, she wasn't sure she'd enjoy it nearly as much if she, too, had mats. But without them she enjoyed it well enough to drift away in thought, Druid dozing by her feet. At least, until the voices started up.
           They came to her in a murmur, as though she were stuck in a verbal collage. Male and female, none of them familiar, expressing themselves in incomplete sentences as though they came from a low-volume television with someone hopping through channels. Druid twitched against her feet, dreaming, but her awareness of it didn't distract her from the voices. Authorities have labeled it shedding rabies , said a male voice, and another man found dead in the city said a woman. Vaccine and too late and then an official-sounding voice that said take your dog out and back again, please . A few jumbled commands—things like stay, Druid, it's only for a little while and Druid, no! And oddly, in a voice that seemed familiar, ...local groomer Brenna Lynn Fallon succumbed today —
           Brenna jerked alert, barely aware of the girls' exclamations that they hadn't thought they'd pulled her hair. What the hell was—
           And Druid jerked awake, looking dazed and disoriented. And then he looked at Brenna, and he screamed—a human sound no dog should ever voice. He flung himself backward, and even as Brenna would have grabbed for him, a dizzying vertigo clutched her; in the instant it took for solid ground to return, he was gone, and all three of the Brecken women, youngest to oldest, were staring wide-eyed at his wake.
           "Oh- kaay ," Emily said, turning both her gaze and her expertly raised eyebrow on Brenna.
           "What the hell—" Brenna said, out loud this time, and then realized she was in the presence of young ears. "You guys didn't hear that." She grabbed an elastic from the table and brought her hair around. The fishtail braid was indeed cool, but apparently tedious in execution, for it was only a third of the way down her back. She overrode the girl's protests and fastened it where they had stopped.
           "Do me a favor," she told them, talking over them, and her words hushed them fast enough. "Help me find him. He's probably hiding behind or under something. Don't try to get close to him. He's too afraid right now, and it wouldn't be kind to him."
           Young women on a mission, they rushed from the kitchen.
           Emily caught Brenna's eye and shook her head. "You told me he was strange, but...Brenna, just what is it you think you can do with that dog?"
           Brenna had no doubt that if Druid had been on a leash, they would all have been treated to another incident of flailing and foaming and shrieking, and she sighed, meeting Emily's gaze long enough for an honest shrug. "I don't know. But you saw him...when he's normal, he's a charismatic and well-behaved dog. If I can only figure out what's causing the behavior—"
           " The behavior ," Emily said, and laughed without humor. "The behavior ! Brenna, the dog is hallucinating! He's the doggy equivalent of a homeless man who's not sane and won't take his drugs!"
           Brenna could only stare off in the direction of Druid's flight, bemused. Local groomer Brenna Lynn Fallon succumbed today...
           Just