“Ozora,” he growls out, his giant jaws moving with the word. “The Great and Terrible.”
“Um, okay …” I glance over at the dead kelpie, lying at the base of the ruined tree in a pool of its own blood. Jesus. Flicking my attention back to my family dog-turned-beast, I swallow a lump in my throat. “Do you think you could turn back into a dude now? Or even, you know, your regular form? I could use a sloppy German shepherd kiss right about now.”
Toto nuzzles the side of my neck, snorting and making my skin prickle with goose bumps as his warm breath chases across my flesh. This feels weirdly intimate, and I’m not sure that I’m comfortable with that.
This is my dog.
Right?
There’s no way your mind would come up with this crap on its own, I think, but I’m not prepared for any reality except the one I was born and raised in. Giant dog monsters do not exist; kelpies do not exist; houses do not lift up in cyclones and crash down in other worlds.
“Mine.” Toto snuffles my hair and then pulls back, staring at me with all three eyes. “Mate.”
“Mate?” I choke out, wondering what the hell is happening here. “You just said I wasn’t allowed to find you sexy. And now you’re talking about mates?”
“Breed.” He sniffs the side of my face again, and I swat him away. His jaws snap in my direction, and I jerk my hand back against my chest, heart pounding.
Breed.
What the hell does breed mean?
“No breeding. You were lucky not to get neutered back home. Dad advocated for it, but Mom—” Toto cuts me off by grabbing my hair in his jaws. Gritting my teeth, I reach up and try to pry him off when he starts to drag me across the grass, kicking and screaming. “Toto!” I shout, when I hear a bored sigh from the trees.
Out steps Bain, the Witch of the North, balancing his pointed cap on one finger.
“Really? I can’t leave you alone for all of sixty minutes? Some Oz the Great and Terrible you are.” Bain flicks the cap forward, and it shifts midair, becoming a leash. The clasp hooks around the metal loop on Toto’s collar—which, by the way, shouldn’t reasonably fit him anymore. Bain yanks back on it and Toto drops his grip on me, howling in rage as he’s pulled away. “The collar keeps him contained, but it’s no good if you don’t issue firm commands.”
“Firm commands?” I ask, reaching up a shaking hand to touch my brunette hair.
“Sit, stay, heel, play dead? Do you people not have dogs back in Kansas?” Bain asks as Toto attempts to attack him, lunging with muscular precision in the witch’s direction. It seems to cost Bain little effort to just step out of the way like he’s avoiding an oblivious patron in a buffet line. “Well, are you just going to lie there like a lump, or are you going to help me out some? I’d hate to have to put your little dog to sleep.”
I sit up the rest of the way and shake the disbelief from my head. Doubts are not welcome right now. Later. I’ll worry about the logistics of this all later.
“Toto, sit and stay!” I shout out, shoving up to my feet.
As it did inside the house, the words seem to have a nearly supernatural effect on him.
In an instant, Toto goes from a lunging, snapping beast to a … well, he’s still snapping and snarling, but a much calmer beast.
Panting, I take a few steps closer to Bain, and when he hands me the leash, I take it.
“Oh, fresh kelpie meat. That’ll cook up into a lovely stew,” Bain observes as that little fairy light flutters around his head. It lands on his shoulder as I lick my lips and stare Toto’s three eyes down.
“Shift back into your human form,” I say, and he shudders, like the command is causing him visible pain. He stands up and shakes out his fur, that glorious tail lying on the ground behind him like a peacock’s folded feathers. As Bain and I watch, Toto shivers, his claws digging into the ground as the ebony black of his fur slides into his skin, his muzzle shortening, his pointed ears drawing back down to the sides of his skull.
In less than a minute, I’m staring down at the naked man I met earlier today.
“Goodness. Trying to mate your mistress already? Canid really are the dumbest race in all the land of Oz—obviously.”
“Canid?” I ask, glancing over at Bain as he snaps his fingers, and the leash in my hand turns into his pointed white cap again. He plucks it from my hand and tucks it onto his shimmering golden hair. It’s metallic, nothing at all like you might see in the real world.
