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“Someone could barge right in and—”
“The door is locked. Vin and Mason are manning it from the outside. The waiter delivered the food before we came, and he won’t be called back inside until we’re gone. The only person we’ll be letting in the room is Teague, and you’re not in view of the door so you won’t be seen by anyone out there when the door opens.” He brushed her earlobe with his nose. “I wouldn’t have brought you here if I thought you wouldn’t be safe. You know that.”
She sighed. “I do know that. I just worry for everyone here.”
“They worry for you, which is—”
A short crackle through the intercom preceded an announcement that the next race would soon begin. Piper glanced out of the glass wall in front of her to see if the hellhorses had yet filed outside. The rows of high-powered floodlights beamed through the air, lighting up the dirt track, obstacles, fake grass, and the spectators standing near the fence adjacent to the track. No hellhorses as yet, though.
One of the widescreen wall-mounted TVs listed the various demons who’d be racing. Khloë’s anchor, Teague, was among them. His stallion was favorite to win, as per usual. Undefeated, it was believed to be the fastest of its kind. Having seen it compete many times, Piper would have to agree with that assessment.
Khloë was currently pouring drinks at the minibar. The imp seemed a little jittery, most likely nervous for her anchor. Who wouldn’t be? Hellhorse racing was no easy sport. It was intense. Gruesome. Inhumane. Which was why her demon liked it so much.
The races were positively nerve-wracking to watch. The obstacles were brutal. The eight-foot high stone walls and hedges had ditches either side of them. Those ditches contained everything from bubbling hot lava to writhing masses of venomous snakes. Blood was always spilled, and injuries could be seriously severe.
One might ask why hellhorses would put themselves through that. Well, they weren’t docile like full-blooded horses, and they could never be described as prey animals. They were wild. Volatile. Bad-tempered. Uber aggressive. Some might even say psychotic.
Demons loved to gamble, so there was no shortage of spectators. Fortunately for them, there was no shortage of seats. People could choose from the picnic area, cafeteria, tiered grandstand, and VIP boxes.
“That’s it, I’m done,” Raini burst out. “This conversation is over.”
Lachlan threw up his arms. “Do you always have to make a fuss about nothing?”
Raini frowned. “There’s nothing fussy about me telling you not to steal the TV from the wall.”
“No one will even notice it’s gone,” said Lachlan.
“You said that about Uncle Dan’s coffin. Oddly enough, the people working at the funeral home noticed that his corpse was no longer in a coffin.”
Lachlan frowned. “He would have wanted me to have it.”
“Dear God, why?”
“These are hard times we live in. A man has to make his money somehow.”
“By stealing from dead people?”
“What difference did it make to him? He was a goner. And it wasn’t like he was getting buried.”
“Actually, it was. They instead cremated him.”
“He would have liked going out in a blaze of fire.”
Raini shook her head. “I don’t know why I ever expect you to have an ‘oh yeah, that was unfair of me’ moment. It’s not like I’m not aware you have zero ethics.”
“From what I’ve observed, they get in people’s way.”
“But they stop us from doing seriously unwise things. Like shooting your own brother in the head with a nail gun.”
Lachlan shrugged. “We all agreed he had a screw loose. I did him a favor by giving him another one.”
“No. No, you really didn’t.”
Again, an announcement came over the intercom. Cheers and whistles rang out as twenty hellhorses padded onto the track with their heads held high. All muscle and grace, they halted near the start line, lined up side by side.
It was easy to tell Teague’s stallion from the others due to the scar that slashed across its neck. Unlike some of the others, his steed wasn’t nervously twitching its inward-turned ear tips, trotting on the spot, or swishing its long, high-carried tail. It stood tall and proud and still, utterly calm and confident.
Staring out of the wall of glass, Asher opened and closed his fist, that adorable face creased in frustration.
Piper glanced at Harper, who was in the process of pocketing her cell phone. “What is the little man doing?”
“I think he’s trying to pyroport a hellhorse to himself,” replied the sphinx. “Let’s all take a moment to be thankful that they’re too big for him to move.”
Piper snickered. She couldn’t blame him for wanting one. They were magnificent. Truly. They were packed with pure, sleek muscle and boasted long powerful legs. Their elegantly arched necks, dark lush manes, and metallic black coat added to their regal air. Not even their all-black, wide-set eyes took away from how breathtakingly beautiful they were.
