Page 145 of Haze

Back into large animal, I start by taking a detour through the stalls. There are a few sheep and goats, but then I come to two stalls. The first has a mare and foal. She rushes the stall door, ears pinned, and I step wide to give her room. I don’t blame her. Predator comes walking, and even if I look human, her foal would be a quick snack for my wolf.

The next stall, though, has a familiar kind of horse. A chestnut-brown scruffy-looking Irish Draught stands in the stall, but what catches me is a pair of sneakers and dark blue jeans peeking out from underneath.

“I don’t know what I’ll do.” Lena’s voice is soft, talking to the Irish Draught.

I hear the telltale sounds of a brush running through the start of a thick winter coat.

“He doesn’t listen to me.” Lena sighs.

The horse turns its head, and I catch a glimpse of Lena’s hand. Then I watch as the horse gets its treat and goes back to watching and chewing.

Lena continues. “It would be easier for both of us if he stopped pretending that in a year, we’ll still be together. I’ve what, two cycles before he realizes I’m serious about being sterile and he bolts?”

I draw a deep breath. I should announce my presence, but I need to hear more. The horse gives a big shake as Lena works her way toward the back of the horse.

“What’s worse? If I do, by some miracle, end up pregnant, what happens if he realizes in a few years the burden it is to have a submissive mate and takes our pup?” Lena pauses, and the brushing stops. “No, that would probably be better. I’m not sure how good of a mom I’d be. He should... well, see, he’s ex-Mafia, so maybe not. Ugh. I’m worried about hypothetical pups.”

She pulls the horse’s tail to the side, and I know before long, she’ll come back around, to either exit the stall or keep brushing, and see me. But I wait a little bit longer.

“I don’t know what to think, Cricket,” Lena murmurs before sniffling. “I don’t suppose you have any sage advice or anything.”

Cricket flicks their tail and almost rats me out.

“Kathleen?” I beckon softly.

“Fuck,” Lena mutters.

A moment passes before Lena walks over to Cricket’s head and looks at me. Her face is a mix of emotions, from upset to slightly happy to see me. Lena runs her hand up and down Cricket’s forehead.

“Who is this?” I lean against the stall door, folding my arms over the top of it.

Lena steps around the horse and goes to work, brushing the side facing me. “This is Cricket. She’s a frequent flier.”

“Poor lass. What’s it this time?” I cock my head, looking at the horse.

Standing still anyway, she seems to be looking okay.

“She keeps biting the studs they want to breed her with.” Lena states the fact of the case. “They wanted to make sure it wasn’t a medical issue before they tried again. Apparently, she took a pretty good chunk out of the last stud.”

I bite my top lip, and God, I try so hard not to laugh at the irony of our situation. I bow my head and look away from the two of them.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Lena hisses. “Cricket, bite this asshole.”

I lift my head slightly to see if Cricket listens to Lena. While a frequent flier, it seems that Cricket is no more inclined than any other horse to listen.

“Females, biters, every last one of ya.” I smile at Lena and try to keep it light. “Do you suppose I could get the media to call me something less ridiculous than Mystery Man if I asked nicely?”

Lena laughs and turns to look at me. Shaking her head, she averts her eyes up to the ceiling. “Finn, it’s only a matter of time before they figure out who you are. It’ll turn into some sort of princess-and-the-mobster type nonsense. I wouldn’t be surprised if Henri’s advice for us is to not be seen in public together anymore.”

My little mate goes back to brushing the horse.

“That would suck. You’re probably my favorite person I’ve met stateside.”

Lena bristles at my words. “Probably?”

“Easy, faolan.” I smile and raise my hand to get her attention.

Lena turns to look at me.

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