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The steed behind it had no time or way to skirt around the fallen beast. It went down hard, tripping another hellhorse in the process. That simply, all at once, three competitors were out of the race.
“And then there were seventeen,” intoned Keenan.
Cricking her neck again, Larkin watched Teague’s beast up his speed just enough to slide into eighth place. The demon beside it spared the steed a quick glance and then puffed out a billow of snort, attempting to distort its vision.
It worked, but her mate continued onward.
So the prick did it again moments later. Once more, it worked. Which was an issue, because they’d approached a mean-ass wall that was covered in moving, thorny vines that lashed out like whips.
She held her breath as Teague’s beast made the jump. It seemed to spring off its powerful hindlegs as it smoothly soared over the hurdle. Thank God.
The puffing steed wasn’t so fortunate. Its front hooves scuffed a vine hard enough to rock its balance and momentum. The demon landed right into the pit of blazing shrubs, letting out a high-pitched squeal of pain. The lashings of vines caused two other steeds to hit the ditch, their squeals just as piercing.
The remaining contestants kept on tearing across the track. As the minutes went on, they leaped over obstacles, raced through bubbling puddles of oil, and sprinted across patches of ice.
Some stayed on their feet. Others went down. Teague’s beast not only didn’t fall, it didn’t slow.
When they surpassed the first half of the race, the cheating promptly began. They tried distracting one another—setting each other’s tails alight, biting into necks or flanks, bashing their bodies into that of others.
Her gut tensed as the stallions either side of her mate converged on it in a rush, trying to squash it between them and fuck with its steady pace.
Larkin hissed. “Those little”—she slid Asher a quick glance—“meanies.”
“Big meanies,” Asher declared.
Said meanies didn’t succeed in making her mate fall. Teague’s stallion put on a quick burst of speed, escaping them. They gave chase, the shitheads. One nipped its butt hard. Her mate’s head jerked, and it swished its tail like a whip.
Khloë growled. “Oh, I could murder them . . . jerks.”
One of the aforementioned jerks were taken out by the next hurdle—it scraped its belly badly on the shards of broken glass that littered the surface of the wall. Larkin’s demon gave a haughty that’s karma for you sniff.
Teague’s beast thankfully made the jump without a problem. It also sailed into fourth place.
As the race went on, the hellhorse came up against yet more jumps and ditches. It also dealt with yet more tricksters trying to take it down. One even body-slammed it like a pro, almost knocking it into a fence. Though the beast’s pace faltered, it didn’t lose its footing. It recovered fast and raced on ahead of the little prick.
Rubbing at her nape, Larkin chewed on the inside of her cheek. At this point, her mate sported many burns and bites, as well as a fair few gashes from the more sadistic obstacles. She could see that it was not only in pain, it was beginning to tire. All the runners were, so fewer and fewer were clearing hurdles.
Keenan commented each time a steed fell, letting everyone know exactly how many were left in the run-in. She didn’t need his input at this point. It took a single look to tell that five remained. Teague’s beast was now in second place.
“Okay,” began Devon, “we’re at the last part of the track.”
Which was why Larkin’s nerves were having an absolute breakdown. This was where the obstacles became higher, wider, crueler, and closer together.
Joining her hands together as if in prayer, she placed them against her mouth. Her stomach twisted each time her mate approached a jump. Her breath snagged each time it made a leap. Air gusted out of her mouth every time it cleared a hurdle.
“One jump left,” Raini muttered.
It was at that point that the cheating went crazy. There was lots of biting and bashing and puffing out noxious smoke to fog the air. One asshole set alight her mate’s tail with goddamn hellfire, but a strong flap of that tail fortunately made the flames die down.
As it neared the overgrown prickly hedge around which a swarm of hornets were gathered, Larkin sank her teeth down into her lower lip.
The beast jumped. High. Fast. Skillfully.
Part of the hedge scraped its belly, and she sucked in a breath. The beast landed hard, but it didn’t fall. Nope, it slid into first place as it then ran for the finish line.
Larkin shifted from foot to foot. “That’s it, keep going, you’re almost there.”
The chants of the spectators became louder and more urgent. The commentator’s speech became more rapid and intense. Khloë began spouting more encouragements, her words coming out fast.
