Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
“Well, obviously. We kidnapped her son.”
Determined to get through the races with my sanity intact, I dedicated every viable moment to working with Alligator Bait, preparing for our competitions, and living like I might die tomorrow. Death wasn’t on my agenda, but with each passing day, I drew one step closer to the fruition of my goals.
My big girl loved every minute of our time together, which served to remind me I did it for her as much as for me.
Something in my filly had changed as well, and she had made a decision to never again allow another horse to defeat her. She would behave until the instant the gates opened, and then she decided the only place for her was at the front of the pack, a queen among mere colts.
She swept the first qualifier by one furlong. The next, she took by two.
The rest she swept much like her first, showing no mercy to anyone on the field and surging to the wire as though the second place horse nipped at her heels.
When the Kentucky Derby rolled around, the odds still claimed women and mares had no place in the Triple Crown, with most betting against us.
The wise acknowledged the truths of the past and placed their bets on us.
The Kentucky Derby fell to us with half a furlong to spare.
Alligator Bait treated the Preakness much like she did when she hadn’t been breezed for a few days and wanted nothing more than to run, shaming the other horses and taking it with a lead of a furlong and a half.
On the day of the Belmont Stakes, Alligator Bait strolled to the gate as though she were heading for a walk in some peaceful park, the only horse on the field who wasn’t putting up a fuss in some fashion or another.
Luck put us on the outermost gate, sparing us from any risk of being boxed in.
She would run the longest race of any of the horses, as the filly had taken to sticking to the outside and securing greater satisfaction for herself when she blew by them.
The starter assistant praised Alligator Bait for being a behaved princess of a horse, rubbing her neck.
When several of the other horses put up a fuss in the gate, my filly flicked an ear back as though questioning what such undisciplined beasts were doing in a competition with her.
I couldn’t blame her.
I’d worked hard training Alligator Bait to treat the gate with care and caution despite her eagerness to run.
She’d learned the body language of the starter assistants, and when he tensed, she prepared.
The gates opened.
We flew.
Part of me wanted the race to be a contest, a battle of wits and skill, but my cheap horse with big dreams and more heart than she knew what to do with needed the thunder and the wind more than her next breath.
Perhaps she knew it might be her last race—perhaps she knew she reached for glory—but from the moment she launched forward, she worked to secure her place as the filly who could, the sole one to dominate a race series believed to be for colts.
As I had since the fateful day following my stroke, I kept my hands low and allowed my horse to run the race as she saw fit, only interfering if I wanted her to move closer to the inside. The rare times I asked anything of her, she listened.
I figured as long as I didn’t ask her to slow down, all would be well in her world.
We thundered by the wire, and I began the tedious process of convincing the filly she needed to come back to Earth and slow down. At first, she fought me, but in what might count as the true miracle of the day, she came to a halt without requiring the help of one of the outriders.
Then, because she did wish to keep running and wanted everyone to know it, she bucked and squealed and complained for the world to see.
As she did similar on the track at home, I rode it out, laughing at her antics.
It was her day, and if she wanted to buck to let me know she was not happy the race was over, she could buck.
“Your spa day begins soon,” I promised. Then my spa evening would begin, where I’d be pampered by an entire flock of demons and devils to prepare for my big day.
Alligator Bait had learned what spa day meant, and she resumed being an angel of a horse.
We dealt with the wreath of roses, the bouquets, the congratulations as always, with tested patience, exhaustion, and exuberance in a baffling conflict of emotions.
To keep Alligator Bait from eating her wreath, Yuless fed her treats and praised her.
He promised me treats as well, and I snickered at the innuendo, which counted as barely acceptable for public.
The son of the divine we meant to lure to our wedding took in the entirety of the race with wide eyes.
Initially, I’d questioned why Hagnar had kidnapped the boy’s dog at the same time, but it hadn’t taken me long to realize the dog served as an emotional support animal, keeping the teen’s emotional state manageable.
Some children of the divine suffered from various mental ailments, and a rather apologetic Caleb confessed he obsessed with everything being in its proper order.
I could understand that.
His father existed to maintain the proper order, and he had no outlets for his tendency, which had infected his offspring.
Lucifer had taken the time to explain that while Gavin proved to be a present parent, Caleb struggled with what it meant to be the child of a divine.
The instant I’d caught a whiff of the curse’s foul influence, which attempted to eat away at the boy’s essence while creating entropy wherever he went, I’d unraveled it, crumbling every strand to dust so it could never be revived.
Some other force had held the entropy at bay, and the instant the curse no longer clawed at the boy, it too had unraveled.
I waited until after the pomp and circumstance to the yard with the barns so Alligator Bait could enjoy her beloved bath to ask Lucifer, “What was that other power I sensed?”
I glanced in the direction of Yuless and Caleb, who met my other horses, including Aramathea.
It had taken the heavenly horse half a second to claim her next faithful admirer.
“His grandmother is the wish child of a djinn, and his mother has inherited some of those tendencies. The most important wish of his mother’s life was to see her son have a bright and fruitful future.
That magic is the only reason he has lived this long,” the Devil replied, and he checked his watch.
“Gavin will be arriving soon, by the way. I have decided he can enjoy the complete festivities tomorrow. I may have shrouded Caleb’s location to make it clear the divine are messing with him.
Honestly, that helped; the instant Gavin realized divines were behind his son’s disappearance, he relaxed somewhat.
Caleb’s mother is anything but relaxed.”
“Well, obviously. We kidnapped her son.”
“And upon finding out the truth, you will have yet another devoted worshipper of your person.”
The last thing I needed was more worshippers of my person. I pointed at Yuless. “I would be fine with him being my sole worshipper.”
“I know. Your resistance amuses me. Don’t be startled when he shows up. And try not to scold Alligator Bait too much. He’ll surely frighten her, and she will do as horses do. In good news, she won’t actually hit him.”
That was something. Aware my horse was about to go insane, I stepped back and worked at spraying her down with the hose. We’d turned the ritual into a game, and she won when she bit the stream. As I had her on cross ties, she waited until I worked on her neck to strike.
Sure enough, a bleach blond man, fuming so much he steamed, popped into existence nearby. Alligator Bait squealed and kicked her hooves, missing him by a mere inch.
Caleb caught sight of his father, shrieked, and bounded over, practically knocking the divine off his feet. “Dad, Dad, I got to watch the Belmont!” He pointed roughly in the direction of the wire. “We had fancy seats and everything, and the nice lady let me pet her horse. Her horse won.”
I couldn’t help it; I laughed at Gavin’s perplexed expression.
To help defuse the situation, I raised my hand.
“I’m the nice lady, and the horse is Alligator Bait, who almost kicked you in the face.
I’m not even sorry about that. She’s a horse, and you startled her.
” To make it clear I wasn’t upset with my thoroughbred, I blasted her in the chest with the hose.
In her world, nothing beat the hose.
“Are you all right? Your mother is worried sick.”
“I’m fine. The nice lady is inviting us to her wedding. It’s tomorrow.”
Judging from the way Gavin’s eyes crossed, his son might end up the death of him. Heaving a sigh, he bowed his head. “Did you kidnap him or did he kidnap you?”
I snickered at the thought of the teen attempting to kidnap any one of us.
“We did kidnap him, but it was for good reason. We’re finished with him, so you can take him home if you’d like, but the invitation to the wedding is real, it is tomorrow, and the rest of Caleb’s family is welcome to attend. ”
“Perhaps introductions are in order,” Lucifer said, joining us with Hagnar and Yuless in toe.
Gavin and Hagnar eyed each other, and Hagnar smirked.
Gavin scowled. “You haven’t kicked the bucket yet, ancient pest?”
“I have a new purpose now, and I brought Caleb here so you might join me in having a new purpose.”
The divine sucked in a breath. “That’s not how it works.”
“It is when Fate decides it to be so.”
“The Fates are dead,” Gavin replied in a cool tone. “I felt their departure as a tearing scratch across my senses, much like when they’d been forced into the world.”
“I said Fate, not Fates,” Hagnar corrected, and then he pointed at me.
I waved, and I smiled. “I’m a hedge witch who had a few too many close brushes with death.”
Gavin stared at me as though seeing me for the first time, and then his eyes widened. “I see.”