Chapter 19
NINETEEN
“My baby is all grown up.”
The morning of the race, I hauled my motley crew of horses and others into Churchill Downs.
Lucifer took point in his rig, which contained the Four Horses, various members of his family in their equine forms, and everything needed to turn the Iroquois Stakes into a circus.
Rather than keep our horses stalled in the barns, we’d be hauling them to one of Lucifer’s estates an hour away.
A pair of Lucifer’s generals would be handling the driving, as win or lose, the Devil expected me to be incapable of driving.
I didn’t question why Lucifer wouldn’t be driving, but as long as the horses made it to their evening accommodations, I would accept the change of plans without complaint.
I hated the idea of leaving any animal of mine stalled unnecessarily for long periods.
Fortunately for us, our horses could handle falling in line and following without requiring leads, although I handled Alligator Bait while Yuless led Buttercups and David.
Moon stuck to Zenzi’s side, and I realized I would need to wean him off sooner than later. Given another few months, and he’d appear to be any one of the other two year olds at the racetrack.
Damn.
Lucifer glared at me. “What’s the problem now?”
“My baby is all grown up.”
He relaxed before laughing. “Zenzi will wean him appropriately, so don’t worry.
It’s better for the flighty breeds, like your thoroughbreds, to stay with their mother a little longer.
He’s still being taught his social skills, and when you do take him to the races, he’ll be better at handling the stress.
He won’t be quite up to Alligator Bait’s standards, but few horses are.
He’ll still be an excellent stud, and he’ll do the breed a great deal of good.
Try not to worry about anything other than your races today.
Also, you’re going to be crushed in the demonstration race. ”
I smiled at Aramathea, who lumbered along with the hellish horses.
From tip of nose to tail, she matched well with David, had him beat by a full hand, and wouldn’t fit in a race gate even if we tried.
Her coloration screamed of angelic ancestry, with a silvery white coat, silver hooves that tinkled and chimed rather than clopped, and a golden mane and tail with a tendency of bursting into heavenly blue-white flames.
Fortunately, we wouldn’t be using the gate for the demonstration, as I suspected most of the horses involved would find a way to destroy it.
“She could surprise us,” I replied, attempting to clutch to what remained of my dignity. “She is definitely one of the prettiest horses on the field, though.”
Lucifer considered the various competitors before nodding. “I’ll give you that. If we were scoring them for beauty, Aramathea wins. Sorry, everybody, but it’s true.”
The assortment of equines whinnied at the Devil’s comment.
The heavenly horse tossed her head and pranced forward to make it clear she was the prettiest big girl.
I loved everything about her already.
“Hey, Yuless?”
“What do you need?”
“I will need to reweigh after the first race and change into clean silks. There’s a chance I might sweat out weight after the first race weigh in, so if I drop weight, we’ll have to adjust the saddle.”
“I have four sets of silks for you, so please only need those. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not sure I can mystically handle a load of laundry in ten minutes.”
I laughed; he’d already proven capable of handling laundry, as I’d introduced myself to a mud puddle after failing to remain on Buttercups during an exercise session.
While I’d nursed a variety of bruises and scrapes while showering, he’d made the evidence of my mishap vanish, and he’d even mended a tear, which had earned him almost as many points as my requirement for a good pie.
Unbeknownst to him, I had multiple ways of keeping score, and I fully intended on making excuses to keep him around throughout the entirety of the race season and beyond.
I might even be willing to forgo the pie in exchange for having a personal groom capable of handling my every need. When honest with myself, I harbored significant jealousy that my horses got more time with the man than I did.
After the Iroquois Stakes, I would do my best to change that.
“If we need all four sets of silks, I’m going to be hiding in a stall while crying in a corner,” I informed him in a solemn tone. “Those bloody things cost me a fortune, and if I need more than two today, someone will have to drag my crying ass out of a stall.”
He chuckled. “I recommend against taking any falls today, then. Falls do a good job of destroying silks.”
That they did. “When I’m going through my verifications, just stare at me like you think I’m about to do something stupid, please.”
He raised a brow and graced me with the requested expression. “Why?”
“The fact there is so much corruption in horse racing that they have to use angels to make certain jockeys who happen to be owners and trainers aren’t cheating extra pisses me off—and because I’m also the owner and trainer, I have to confirm I’m not planning on cheating or have planned to cheat at all.
I’ve reviewed the field, and I’m the only person who has to be verified, so the entire lot of them could be cheating for all I know.
And frankly, after talking to my teachers, they very probably are. Ethical jockeys are rare.”
“Most of them are just betting on themselves through friends,” Lucifer informed me with a rather crooked grin.
“Nobody is actually trying to rig the race this time, which is why I haven’t made any suggestions to have the whole field angelically verified—at least for the jockeys.
I have begun tending to the other garden. ”
“And how is my new stallion doing?”
“He is in the race due to a drop and the owner’s decision to try his luck. He’s quite miffed that his throwaway horse is challenging him. I trust you were aware that you have to run three races with her with her new name before it’s solo?”
I shrugged. “Technically, she’s running as ‘Alligator Bait formerly known as Fury of the Dawn’ because of those rules, but they’re announcing her as without the formerly known as. Admit it, Lucifer. ‘Alligator Bait, Fury of the Dawn’ is a spectacular name for a racer.”
“It really is. It’s only one more race with her unique identifier before she’s running solely as Alligator Bait.”
“Hey, Lucifer?”
“What?”
“If I win this race, you should pitch a good offer for that stallion for me. Then you can gift him to me as a present. That way, I attack your wallet, force you to do a good deed, and I get to be selfish all at the same time.”
The Devil laughed. “That was the first genuine attempt of being selfish I’ve gotten out of you, so your wish is my command. If that horse is what you want, should you win, that horse is what you shall get. But I warn you, the race will not be easy.”
“They never are. That’s why they’re worth running. And anyway, even when hard, it’s what Alligator Bait wants, so I will go as far as I must to make it happen for her.”
“That’s not at all selfish, but I’ll pretend I didn’t notice. You are right. That filly lives to race, and you will find yourself taking her to the track far more than you prefer.”
That I already knew; the instant I’d begun the process of loading Alligator Bait into the trailer after having hauled her race saddle into the storage bay, she’d become the true definition of an excitable horse.
Until she couldn’t race any longer, I’d be taking her to the track—and after I had to retire her from the track, I’d find another sport for her to participate in.
Learning a new discipline would test me, but I refused to give up on my animals.
I also refused to discard them when they were no longer useful for racing.
I also refused to turn her into a broodmare, squeezing every last cent out of her.
Once the race ended, I would worry about her future. For now, I’d focus on living in the moment and basking in the glory of the attempt, for better or for worse.
* * *
While the Triple Crown races were what most looked forward to, the Iroquois Stakes started the show.
It bagged the competing horse a low number of points and a moderate purse, beginning the grand chase to the Kentucky Derby.
As such, the race organizers at Churchill Downs loved gimmicks to draw large crowds.
The Devil, the crowned ruler of all attention whores, basked in the glow of the audience as we gathered to put on a little race between the horses of the heavens and the hells. The heavens had only one entrant, my Aramathea, but the other equine species drew most of the attention.
The Four Horses of the Apocalypse pranced and showed off, wearing parade tack rather than proper racing saddles.
One of them would likely be the winner, leaving the unexpected additions, a selection of unicorns in parade gear ridden by their mates to be the probable next placers.
Aramathea had plenty of bling on her saddle, but at least someone had given her the right kind.
I worried the glittering gems on her bridle were diamonds.
I did not need a diamond encrusted bridle in my life.
The only way Aramathea might win involved the other competitors stopping at the finish line and waiting for her to catch up.
Hell would freeze over first.
There’d be no purse for the demonstration race, but the audience could place their bets. Like standard races, nobody on the track was eligible to participate, at least not officially.