Page 20 of My Dark Horse Prince

“I know,” Kris says. “And that’s a good thing.” She and Aleks exchange yet another glance that I do not understand.

But finally, after the people have left, Kris turns toward me slowly, as if I’m a horse she doesn’t want to spook. She should be afraid of the total lunatic animal that practically ran over our car, but it appears she’s afraid of me for some reason. “I’ve known you for a long time.”

I nod.

“You trust me, right?” Her gaze is intent.

“Of course.” Why else would I be here? “I got stabbed on a train last night, chucked out the window, and somehow made it back to you.” How’s that for sounding crazy?

Her mouth drops open.

“By whom?” Aleks is now standing like a soldier, and he looks ready to attack something, his shoulders square, his eyes sparking, and his hands fisted at his sides.

Grigoriy’s nostrils are flaring, and he’s looking around as if he might find an enemy behind a bush as well.

“It was some mob boss whose girlfriend I tried to protect.” I shake my head. “Did I mention I had a fit of stupidity on the train?”

“Wait, are you serious?” Kris’s whole face looks terrified. “Do you think it really was someone with the mafia?” She’s looking at Aleks now.

He shrugs. “We have a lot of things to ask her, but it’s fine. Whatever the answers are, it’s fine.” He beams. “Because we found him, and we finally have people who might answer them.”

Kris is smiling, too. “If I ask you to do something, will you just do it, no questions?”

The last thirty-six hours have been some of the most painful, and definitely the most bizarre, of my entire life. First I was fired and betrayed. Then my sister actually had enough money to send me here. I stood up for someone, was nearly killed, somehow miraculously healed, and then found by a horse—which I rode for the first time in a decade—and now I’ve found my friend and she’s acting like we’re in some play, but I lost the script and don’t know my lines.

“Sure,” I finally say. How much stranger could today really get?

“I want you to walk up to Grigoriy,” she says softly. “Place your hand on him.” She pauses.

“Okay.”

“And then say, ‘I wish you were a human man.’”

I laugh.

“I’m serious.”

The same thing she said earlier? “What’s going on?”

“Just humor me,” she says. “And prepare yourself for something very, very strange to happen.”

Aleks strides toward her. “Are you sure—”

Kris holds up her hand. “I’m almost positive she’s involved somehow. She said he found her.”

Aleks frowns.

I don’t have to move to touch the stallion. He’s circled the car to stand right beside me. His head slowly lowers toward mine, and I hold out my hand. My fingers part slightly, and I place my hand right in between his eyes. “I wish you were a human man,” I lie. Because who would ever prefer a human man to a horse?

An electric pulse shoots through me then, as if I’ve brushed against a very high voltage electric fence. A stallion fence, maybe. And then I’m flung backward, my head slamming against the frame of the car’s door.

“Ow.” I straighten slowly, rubbing one hand over my eyes and face. “What the hedge was that?”

Kris isn’t even listening to me.

Neither is Aleks.

They’re both staring, their mouths gaping open.

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