It was probably because since I had graduated college I was all “grown up” or something. She’d been harping on me about dating until about two weeks ago—which was a total waste of her time since I was way more consumed with finding a job and launching my Responsible Adult plan. But she’d stopped telling me to get out there and date the day the first fae horse showed up. Maybe she realized I aspired to become one of those old cat ladies, and figured I’d just do it with horses instead?
I finished cleaning out the horse stall I’d been working on and dumped out the dirty shavings, waving to all the equines as I mulled over Mom’s sentimental actions. I went back into the barn just long enough to dump fresh sawdust in the stall, creating a mushroom cloud of dust that got me sneezing.
Dad hadn’t noticed anything odd about Mom when I asked him about it yesterday, so maybe it was just the “grown up” thing.
Dad was just as warm and kind a parent as Mom—especially because I wasn’t really his kid.
He was my step-dad, but he married my mom when I was about ten, and he taught me how to drive, helped me with my homework, and had been the best dad I could ask for—way better than my bio father, the fae degenerate that had gifted me with my fae blood. So, he was Dad to me.
Finished with the stalls, I stepped out of the shade of the barn and into the hot afternoon sunlight.
I rounded the corner of the barn and slipped through the wooden fence, stopping just by the water troughs.
Dad’s horses were all clustered at the far side of the pasture, stamping their hooves and swishing their tails as they waited to be let inside again.
Bagel, however, was a spot of velveteen brown surrounded by six fae horses.
Wait…six?
“Oh, you dirty weasel.” I sprinted down the length of the pasture, upsetting horses and ignoring Bagel when he hee-hawed to me.
I made it to the far side of the pasture where the tree line that the fae spider had tried to take over stood.
I boosted myself over the wooden fence and shot through a thin gap in the trees, popping out in a ditch right by the road.
I scrambled up the slight hill, my paddock boots slapping the asphalt when I reached the road. Shading my eyes, I looked up and down the road.
We lived pretty far out in the country, and were surrounded by cornfields and the giant estate that belonged to our next-door neighbors, the Drakes—the most powerful vampire Family in the Midwest.
Since there weren’t many buildings around, I could see pretty far. There were no trucks or trailers on the road—not even a single car.
“Come on!” I shouted to the sky. “Why can’t I catch the dirtbag doing this? There were five fae horses when I dumped the dirty stall shavings, and I only went back into the barn for a few minutes! Who can drop off a horse that fast?” I growled and took one last look—just in case I’d missed a truck or something—and then stomped my way down into the ditch and through the tree line.
Since the first fae horse had been dumped, more kept appearing. They showed up randomly. One had arrived sometime between night chores and when I went out to tell Dad dinner was ready. Another had been abandoned in our pasture when I’d gone to the feed store for more grain—I was going to get some weight on these fae horses even if I went broke doing it—and to drop off some more job applications.
“I’m going to find whoever is doing this, and I’m going to make sure they never own another animal again.” I climbed over the wooden fence and dropped down with a huff. “I should get the Curia Cloisters involved. Whatever nutso is doing this is clearly from the supernatural community—probably a fae. Oh—or I’ll file charges with the county and get humans involved! That will scare the supernaturals into doing something!”
The Drake vampires’ presence should have been enough to scare off anyone from doing something stupid like this—the Drakes were known for their ruthlessness. And since Killian Drake had fallen in love with Hazel Medeis—the Adept of the wizard House Medeis, and a good friend of mine—they’d only become more respected. Though, admittedly, having petite Hazel and a bunch of hug-exuberant wizards running loose around Drake Hall did make them a tad less fierce.
Bagel and the fae horses had chosen to follow me, apparently, and were congregating at the end of the pasture.
As I walked through the herd, scratchy muzzles bumped me, and two of the horses crowded me, wheezing like asthmatic hippos.
“Yes, yes, I have treats.” I patted the biggest one—I’d taken to calling him Solstice. He was a coal black color with oozing red lines in his coat that made it look like someone had stitched him together like a stuffed animal.
Solstice wheezed and rested his chin on the top of my head until I elbowed him in the chest to make him back up. He took his treat happily, as did Blue Moon, Comet, and Twilight.
I’d done my best to give them pretty names even though, as far as animals went, they were really ugly. Twilight was runty and such an off gray color he looked perpetually ill. Comet drooled red, but when I had the vet out to look her over, he swore up and down she didn’t have any wounds or sores in her mouth.
All of the fae horses were as skinny and skeletal as the first mare that had shown up—I called her Eclipse.
Eclipse was last—or second-to-last thanks to our new addition—to come forward. She daintily accepted her treat, even though she looked as skeletal as the day she’d arrived a little over a week ago.
I stroked her neck with a frown. “I don’t get it. You should have started putting on at least a little weight by now.”
Eclipse turned her head to peer at the newcomer.
The newest fae horse was standing back a little. It showed its teeth, pinned its ears, then bobbed its head at me.
