Page 97 of Dragon Her Heels

It occurred to me I hadn’t registered to buy at any livestock auction let alone one as prestigious as Keeneland. I regarded the Devil with a horrified expression. “How am I even supposed to bid?”

“Everyone in our group is registered to bid. You will need to sign a paper upon arrival, but it will only take a moment. Michael, please confirm there is nothing slipped in.”

“The papers are legitimate and needed for you to purchase, and nothing you sign here will cause you problems,” the archangel promised. “Do hurry. They’re waiting, and there are seats reserved for you.”

I planted my hands on the Devil’s back and shoved him in the direction of the sales pavilion. “You’re going to get me killed. I thought we were going somewhere close, and I skipped out on work. I’m not going to show up, and that damned dragon is gonna pluck me out of my office and eat me for not getting shit done. I’m going to die but have a new horse I probably can’t afford.”

“A surprising number of horses go for only thirty to fifty thousand,” Lucifer replied.

“Well, maybe I can afford one or two, but not many more than that. I don’t even know how to translate auctioneer.”

Snickering, the Devil picked up the pace, and we hurried across the parking lot to the pavilion. “It’s easy. He will start at a hundred thousand, and he’ll drop the sales price to fifty thousand, then forty, then thirty, then twenty, then ten, and so on, until someone bids. Then they’ll proceed based on the estimated value of the horse. You’ll have a little screen that’ll help you, and you can even bid using the digital system if you’re not comfortable with manual. I will be doing manual. I enjoy instilling fear in the competition. Fear gets me the horses for the cheapest price possible.”

What had I gotten myself into? “Okay. I will try not to panic. Is there a catalog?”

Lucifer snapped his fingers and a booklet appeared, which he offered to me. “I have taken the liberty of crossing out the horses that are predicted to sell for five hundred thousand or higher. To save you the disappointment, of course. I have also taken the liberty of circling the ones at highest risk of a fatal stop at a slaughter market. There are four of them, and none have a reserve price associated with them.”

I hated people. I tucked the catalog under my arm, muttered curses, and swore I’d pay him back for the trickery later. “And all I need to do is sign to be registered for bidding?”

“That is correct. I handled the fiscal considerations for you, and should you happen to ruthlessly attack my wallet bidding on an expensive horse, I will have to fall on the sword of your greed.”

That did a good job of settling my nerves, and I followed Lucifer to the pavilion, where he guided me to a registrar, who was waiting for us with a clipboard. After showing my identification, I signed the papers required, accepted my bidder’s marker, and took a fresh copy of the catalog. We headed into the pavilion proper, which had fewer than thirty people in it total. “Is this normal? I thought it would be busier.”

“It varies year by year. I didn’t peek on how many would be attendance, just that attendance was high. This is the yearling sale, which spares you from staring pregnant mares in the eyes while you are devoured by doubt on what will happen to her precious little foal.”

“I’ll appreciate that later,” I admitted, spotting the set of four seats that was flagged as reserved. I took the one on the far side, dragging Yuless with me so I wouldn’t be tempted to kick Darlene or Lucifer during the bidding. “I hope you know what is going on because I don’t,” I muttered to my groom.

“I do. I had time to prepare, and I went to a different auction as an observer to get a feel for how it works. While the auctioneer goes over the rules, look over the first few pages of the catalog so you have an idea of what horses are coming up first.”

I obeyed, and I discovered each horse had a section in the catalog, featuring the animal’s photograph, their dam and sire along with their winning records, as well as the winning records of older siblings and half-siblings. The first horse on Lucifer’s copy was circled along with a notation to wait until the animal was offered for five hundred to bid. I pointed at the reference. “How do I know when it’s five hundred?”

“The auctioneer will say a thousand, and then he’ll drop it to five hundred. You will then raise your hand to indicate you’re bidding.”

I scowled at the bidder number I’d been given. “What’s this thing for, then?”

“Some people like to raise their stick so the auctioneer doesn’t think they’re bidding when their nose itches.”

I giggled. “Noted. I will bow my head and scratch my nose in a way that is not at all misinterpreted to be a bid.”

“You can just gesture to indicate it wasn’t actually a bid,” he replied with a grin. “But that’s not a bad plan.”

As soon as Lucifer and Darlene were seated, with Darlene on the far side of our little group, the auctioneer began with a list of the HIPs who had been withdrawn from the auction along with the terms and conditions of participation, seller’s right to elect to donate a percentage to preserving retired racehorses, and otherwise reminded people their bids needed to be fed and watered and cared for after purchase.

“Is that actually a problem?” I whispered to Yuless while flipping through the book. About twenty pages in, I spotted the prettiest horse I’d ever seen, with a golden tan coat and pitch black legs, mane, and tail. Lucifer had drawn an x through her picture, and I grabbed the fresh copy to better admire her.

I loved everything about her, and I wanted to take her home and cuddle with her for the rest of her life. “Oh, Yuless. Look at this one.”

“She’s out of the Triple Crown winner last year,” he informed me, pointing at a name in the registry. Then he pointed at another horse. “That horse won the year prior.”

I could understand why Lucifer had put an x through her picture.

She was going to cost a fortune, even I knew that.

I wanted her anyway.

A woman in a blazer and slacks led the first horse out into the sales ring, and the bay colt favored a hind leg, promising a medical bill for whomever decided to purchase him. The bidding started at a hundred thousand, and within a matter of moments, the auctioneer whittled the animal’s value down to five hundred. I raised my hand, confirmed the auctioneer had seen my bid, and waited.

Less than a minute later, the auctioneer announced Lake Hancock Racing Ranch as the winner. I almost regretted the name I’d assigned my homestead when filing my registrations, but I moved on through Lucifer’s copy of the book in search of a few new lovelies to bring home. The first high value yearling to go up on market, a chestnut colt with a blaze, started a bidding war right out of the gate, and Lucifer opened the show. More than a few other bidders went in as well, and the price rapidly jumped up to over half a million dollars, and it stuttered at the seven hundred thousand mark until Lucifer won, spending seven hundred and twenty thousand on the animal.