Chapter 30
THIRTY
“We seem to have a rather angry guest.”
Unlike Alligator Bait, Elegance in Moonlight fussed getting into the gate, although I managed to control him sufficiently to protect myself and the starter assistant from the animal’s exuberance.
The instant the gates opened, the cream of the colt crop would battle for the largest of the preliminary purses along with becoming a leading stallion prospect regardless of what happened during the remainder of the Triple Crown races.
The race served as a prospect race for three year olds, brought serious money to the table, and should we win, we’d walk home with a purse of over a million dollars, which I would spend on bettering thoroughbreds and proving ethics and racing were, in fact, compatible.
The gate opened, the horses surged forward, and I made a decision that I would likely regret.
I lowered my hands and gave Elegance in Moonlight the choice to run his heart out.
Like Alligator Bait, I’d conditioned him for a mile and a half tracks, hoping to build his endurance and general strength so he could crush our opponents. As we’d gotten the outside gate, the decision would either make or break us.
Elegance in Moonlight had the strength to handle the course’s length, but did he have the speed and the heart?
The stallion prospect, as he did for me when we were training at home, turned his ears back flat and went to work.
I caught glimpses of other horses out of the corner of my eye, but rather than join the crowd, I kept my colt on the outside of the pack, accepting the longer distance in exchange for a clear run at the finish line.
Unlike the other races I had run, I went for the lead from the start, hoping my colt’s size and his conditioning might make up for the extra distance I asked of him.
I kept the colt in the middle of the track, safely away from the other competitors, eliminating the dangers of sharing space with Maxwell Firo and Alex Dryden.
I trusted Alex not to hurt any of us on purpose, but accidents happened when jockeys vied for position.
Maxwell Firo worried me—and a quick glance over my shoulder confirmed the man, in his orange and green silks, battled for a better spot nearby.
I had two choices. I could push Elegance in Moonlight harder and hope to pass or edge closer to limit the distance he needed to run to keep his lead.
At half a horse ahead, I lacked the luxury of mistakes.
As Elegance in Moonlight had come to me whip shy, I’d exchanged my regular whip for the shortest permitted plus a centimeter to ensure compliance, padded it as much as allowed in the same irritating rulebook, and even went as far as to pad the shaft and handle, rendering it to be a visual cue rather than something capable of doing more than make some noise and potentially catch my colt’s attention.
I shifted my hand to his shoulder, gave him an encouraging scratch, and nudged him with the whip.
If I believed my eyes, I had done the equivalent of dip my poor baby in battery acid, as the colt extended his stride and gave me a burst of speed.
A thump along my back and right shoulder heralded the kind of pain I’d only experienced a few times before, and my grip on the reins loosened.
I snatched Elegance’s mane and held on tight, wondering what the hell had happened.
My first move would be to get Elegance across the finish line, ideally in first place. Then I’d worry about the problem of my shoulder. I’d curse about it every breath of the way, and my foul language did a good job of spurring my colt on.
I only cursed when pissed, and the poor boy understood my boss was about to get a punt across the lake, as half the time, I snagged my lover right out of the air while riding, subjecting Elegance to my random acts of affectionate violence.
In the future, I would need to add cussing to my race regime intentionally.
Elegance in Moonlight ran like I’d installed rockets in his rump as I focused on breathing while doing my best to ignore how my right shoulder throbbed with the beating of my heart. My shoulder would be a problem once we crossed the wire.
I needed both arms to get the colt to stop once he got started.
I was so focused on making certain I didn’t run into anyone or anything, I lost track of precisely where we were on the track, and only when I spotted the end of the winner’s circle seats did I clue in that stopping my colt would be a good idea.
As feared, my right hand refused to cooperate, forcing me to cope solely with my left to slow the headstrong animal.
I bit back my curses, hoping my silence would clue Elegance in Moonlight he needed to slow.
Motion out of the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I realized Alex came up alongside, reaching for Elegance’s bridle.
I held course, making certain my horse stayed in position.
The other jockey, after a first failed grab, managed to snag the reins, which allowed him to slow both our horses.
I resumed cursing, although I tossed a thanks or two his way in the process.
“Don’t try to dismount,” Alex ordered. “Do you know what happened?”
I shook my head. “My shoulder is not happy.”
“You were shot.”
I blinked. “Shot?”
“With a gun,” he clarified as he got both our horses halted.
“I saw the blood. I didn’t hear the shot, but one of the archangels instructed me to finish the race and then catch your horse since you wouldn’t be able to stop him.
You’ll have company in a moment.” Alex winced.
“Sooner than later. We seem to have a rather angry guest.”
I forced myself to straighten, glancing in the direction of the crowd.
Yuless had shifted into his dragon form, and he’d opted to be rather large. He glided down, pumping his wings to land with more grace than usual, likely to keep from startling the horses. Once he touched down, he growled, and steam and smoke emerged from his nose.
Elegance in Moonlight stretched out his nose towards my lover, and he whinnied.
The steam and smoke dissipated before Yuless bumped noses with the thoroughbred. “Are you all right?”
I spent a moment to think about it, and then I shook my head. “I’m pretty sure I’m not.”
The archangel proved to be two archangels, and I greeted Michael and Gabriel with my left hand as my right no longer cooperated. “If we have to rerun that race, please don’t tell me about it right now. If I didn’t win, I also don’t want to hear about it right now.”
Alex snorted. “I don’t know if they’re going to make us rerun it, but I doubt it. You beat me by a furlong. The instant you brought your whip into play, your horse decided it was time to disgrace us all. That was when you were shot, but it didn’t look like your colt noticed or cared.”
“The race will not be rerun,” Michael informed me.
“It is trivial for us to confirm the shot would not change the results. None of the horses reacted to the sound. Someone used magic to silence the firearm.” The archangel stepped to Yuless, reached up, and patted the black dragon’s nose.
“Please inform my brother we will handle this matter and ask him to please get with the race organizers and confirm the outcome would not be different. If anything, had she not been shot, she would have crushed her competition by two furlongs rather than one.”
While my lover huffed and puffed, he shifted to his tiny self and flew off to do as told.
“One furlong is sufficient crushing, I assure you,” Alex stated in a wry tone.
I laughed at my fellow jockey, and he grinned at me.
Maxwell Firo came up, and he swung off his horse, hurrying over. “Can I help?”
One by one, the remaining jockeys joined us, and after conferring with the archangels, Alex and Maxwell helped me down, careful not to handle my right arm. Gabriel took Elegance’s reins, assuring me my horse would be ready to stand in the winner’s circle as soon as I was.
“I assure you, she has no diseases, so do not mind the blood,” Michael stated, and he instructed my fellow jockeys to secure a strong hold on me, as removing the bullet would result in a demonstration of my temper.
Sure enough, the instant the archangel touched my right shoulder, something snapped in my head, and I fought the jockeys for the opportunity to pluck Michael’s feathers.
Had I been in possession of two working arms, I held confidence I would have made off with at least one primary.
One zap with holy fire later, I ended up on the dirt spewing curses.
Michael presented the bullet, which was covered in blood.
“I have stopped the bleeding, but the bone is cracked, and you should, after dealing with the pertinent details here, go to the hospital to be scanned for your medical records. Once the medical staff handles that, either myself or one of my siblings will come and fuse the bone so it can heal. You will be able to ride in your next race, although your shoulder will be quite painful.”
I spent a few more moments cursing before stopping to catch my breath. “Thank you, Michael.”
“I will leave her in your care for now, Mr. Dryden, Mr. Firo. I am certain she would appreciate your company to the winner’s circle if you are so inclined. The sting of this defeat is a passing pain, I assure you.”
“I wouldn’t have stayed mounted,” Maxwell stated in a solemn tone. “I had no idea anything was wrong until Alex went after you. Your colt outran the outriders.”
That didn’t surprise me; while the quarter horses could outrun the thoroughbreds for a short distance, they weren’t fast enough to overtake one at a gallop unless they started ahead—and I doubted it was possible to see there’d been something wrong from the front.
I’d stayed mostly upright and had maintained my position.
With help from both Alex and Maxwell, I got back to my feet. “What does the rulebook say about race interference? I focused on the rules I needed to follow, determined never to pay any of the consequences.”