Page 15 of My Trojan Horse Majesty

BANG.

The man wasn’t kidding. A bullet slams into Drago, and I feel the force of its impact. I expect us to crash to the ground, and I prepare to spring away so I’m not rolled flat like pie crust, but he never actually falls. He doesn’t even stumble.

Drago keeps moving forward until he’s upon the men, and then he rears back and kicks out at the small man, striking him in his hand and sending the gun flying. The tall man runs away, screaming like a little girl. The smaller man falls to the ground, and he’s crab walking backward, but only using one arm. His other arm’s curled into his body like it’s?—

Upon closer inspection, the hand that held the gun looks like a bloody, broken mess. I suppose shooting at a maniacal stallion’s risky.

The men reach their carjustin time to avoid a second trampling.

While the tall man turns the car on and the shorter man scrambles inside, slamming the door and locking it, Drago attacks the front bumper with both hooves, striking it over and over. It’s all I can to do hold on, but I swear, he’s marvelously vicious when he smashes their hood, shatters both headlights, and knocks the bumper off. Their nondescript black sedan won’t be so nondescript the next time I see it. I count at least three distinct hoof-shaped dents as they scream backward down the drive.

Once they’re gone, I expect Drago to bolt down the road, ignoring my presence entirely, but he doesn’t. He simply turns his head around, eyes me with one big, dark eye, and blinks.

“You were shot!” I completely forgot about it, thanks to his spectacular attack. I slide off his back, no halter in hand to grab him, no crop to guide him, and a massive pile of hay to our right, blowing every which way in the wind that’s picking up. I turn toward him, moving slowly, hoping not to spook him. I can’t imagine what I’ll tell the vet when I call them—the closest practice is Heaston’s. Ugh.

But when Drago lets me approach, simply turning his head to watch me, I can’t find a scratch on him.

“You were shot,” I whisper. “Isawit. Ifeltit.” I run my hand across his chest and jugular groove, legitimately shocked. “How can this be?”

He whuffles again, brushing his nose against my hair and blowing.

“I can see that you’re fine,” I say. “I’m just. . .not sure how.”

And then, in a move that’s almost stranger, he waits while I gather up all the hay I can, and then he follows me right back into his enclosure and stands patiently while I close the gate.

“Maybe you were hangry before,” I say. “I should’ve put hay in your paddock first.” I’m just. . .I’m reaching. But I can’t think of anything else to make sense of the last half hour. “Why wouldanyonekill a creature as spectacular as you?”

His snorting sounds almost like laughter.

I pat his neck. “Eat, you amazing beast.” I lean against him, scratching the line of skin just underneath his mane. Nearly every horse likes that, and he’s no exception, freezing in place other than turning his head slightly to the side andstretching.

“You’re my hero today, Drago. I mean it.”

He finally turns then and eats some hay. He looks almost put out by it, but I can’t figure out why he would be. “I’ll bring you grain for dinner tonight,” I say. “It’s the good kind, too. You’ll be happier about that.”

He snorts.

Probably just clearing his nose.

I’m sure all this interaction is all in my head, but I’m going to pretend it’s not. After the day I’ve had, I deserve it. “Who can blame me for thinking you’re brilliant?” I ask. “You did just save my life.”

He tosses his head again, and I scratch his shoulder.

“I guess you know how to be ridden, or at least you’re okay with someone getting on your back. Maybe it’s your stallion instincts. Either way, I feel better about my crazy idea than I have all day, so thanks for that.”

Now I just have to go inside and dig through Heaston’s files until I find the stuff from that lady with the chestnut stallion. I remember Heaston being pretty upset when he had to put that one down. If he somehow has her papers, it would be a miracle, especially if the markings are even somewhat similar to Drago’s.

Then again, when someone as good as Tim Heaston needs help, it makes sense that the stars would align. I’m happy to play my part in it. One day, when we’re telling our kids about this, it’s going to be quite a story. I look forward to hearing why those men showed up—probably something to do with his partners setting him up. They’re going to have a lot to answer for.

Chapter6

Leonid

Ihate this Heaston guy.

Even without seeing him, I can tell he’s got a dark soul. The odds of two men like that coming after someone good are quite low, but with the way he spoke to her on the phone. . . I don’t need my powers to see that he has bad things coming to him. But why can’t the girl see it? She seems bright, so how did he dupe her?

I have a lot of things to worry about, most importantly, regaining my powers and ensuring that Kristiana and her brother Gustav can’t ever challenge me. With Aleksandr, Grigoriy, and Alexei behind them, killing them’s the only sure way to keep myself safe. But before I deal with them, I’m going to eliminate this Heaston guy for fun. He deserves to die, I’m almost positive.

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