Page 79 of Kentucky Nights
My lips vibrate together when I blow out a tired breath, that is all caused by Lorcan’s antics.
“Can you believe them?” He pops next to me, placing two fingers in his mouth and ripping a loud whistle. “I was doing better than the other guy. They’ll ask for me back.”
“How do you know how to announce everyone?”
“They have sheets up there. It’s easy to read.”
“Oh.” I expected more of an explanation from him. A statement of some sort about researching rodeos, best times, and competitors. I guess his reason is as good as any.
“Kentucky is up. Oh, I’m so excited. He’d better not lose. I’d have to release a pretty terrible person from Purgatory.”
I dislike how high-pitched his voice is around the words ‘pretty and terrible’. He reeks of guilt, and he hasn’t even stated what this person has done.
And you know what? I don’t want to know.
“Don’t tell me more information. Leave me in the dark this time. I already feel on alert.” As much as I want to continue to examine my surroundings, my anxiety fades when I see Kentucky in the chute.
My heart eases with our gazes locked. From here, he pinches the brim of his hat, tilting his chin. Putting his finger into a gun gesture, he kisses the tip of his index finger, aims it at me, and shoots.
I catch it, placing the phantom kiss on my lips.
“Yuck. You’re sickening. Like two teens in love,” Lorcan gags.
Ignoring him, I lean against the rails, my focus never leaving my mate. Romeo neighs, raising on his hind legs from being in the chute. Kentucky strokes his neck to calm him, bending down to whisper into Romeo’s ear. Whatever is said, the vampire horse calms to an eerie standstill.
“Kentucky Jones is riding Romeo, a Friesian horse, not a horse that is too common to ride in the rodeo,” The announcer informs. “While not too common, his record has proven him worthy to be here.”
“That reminds me. How does he have a record if it has been decades since he has competed, Lorcan?”
The Void takes the spot next to me, leaning his elbows against the rails. “You need to remember Kentucky is a lot older than everyone here. He’s had to forge documents before, so this event was easy. Well, I forged them, then I signed him up, but he knows how. He did have to mystify a few people when he got here, but no questions will be asked of him. He doesn’t use any of his abilities out there. Neither does Romeo. They play at the same level as all the others. If he wins, he always donates his earnings. He never feels right about keeping them.”
The chute opens, which ends our conversation. I couldn’t care less what he has to say. Romeo launches forward, his long legs eating up the distance between them and the barrels.
I jump, clap, and shout. I can’t seem to stay still. “Go, Kentucky, go! Let’s go, Romeo! Woooo!” I scream by cupping my hands around my mouth, hoping he can hear me over all the other spectators in the crowd cheering him on.
Romeo is quick and agile, keeping the turns around the barrels tight and clean. Kentucky holds the reins with one hand, keeping the other free. Kentucky and Romeo together seem effortless. They have done this hundreds of times. There’s no doubt that they make the perfect team.
They round the last barrel, bolting to the finish line with a time of seventeen seconds flat.
“Yes! Oh my god, that was phenomenal! They were so fast. Is that a good time? That has to be, right?”
I scream as loud as I can, capturing Romeo and Kentucky’s attention. I blow them kisses, waves, and jump with so much excitement, I’m ready to hop over these rails and run to them myself. Something about Kentucky in his black coat, black shirt, jeans, and hat. I want him to wear this exact outfit later and use me to the point where I fall unconscious, hopefully from his bite.
“No one will be able to touch them. Eighteen seconds for barrel racing is pretty standard, so I don’t see anyone else beating their time.”
The eerie sensation is back, sucking all the joy and excitement from the moment.
I search for the reason for my paranoia again by scanning the bleachers up and down, left to right. Most people are taking the time to go to the concession stands between competitors. The lines are long. People are waiting for the best BBQ in town. The food truck is to the left of the concession stands, painted a bright red.
It’s who is on top of that truck in a crouched position who draws my attention. He has a smirk on his face. He points at me, slashing his finger across his throat.
It’s Louisville.
I’d know that evil curl of his lip from anywhere.
The validation of fear has me tugging on Lorcan’s arm. “Lorcan! Lorcan, it’s him. That’s the vampire who kidnapped me.”
“Where? Who?” He straightens, readying himself for a fight.
