Laci trotted along the edge of the rail with Fennec atop her. He had a light hand at first, but quickly choked up as a fear of her started to creep in. He wasn’t sure how, but she felt different today. Maybe it was the crowd making her nervous, or maybe the last performance put some sinful ideas in her head. He tapped her forward with the spurs, trying to get her to run off a little energy. The rabbits watching cheered and snapped photos, impressed with her athleticism.

  Chase was leaning back on the wall comfortably, and the rabbits were bombarding him with questions.

  “What’s the highest bid for her now?”

  “This is the Norfolk mare? Incredible!”

  “When can I take her for a spin?”

  He laughed heartily. “Folks, I know Laci is a spectacle, but don’t lose your heads. Bidding starts at four million, today at noon. All sales are final.”

  He watched Laci trotting around, and felt the swell of pride fill his chest. He finally proved that he could make something of a horse like her. The board was certain to give him more high profile cases-he’d be a top profiting trainer. It was strange to be up here surrounded by buyers, when not long ago he had been in Gabriel’s place. Trapped behind closed doors, babysitting foals and horses who would never amount to anything. After all these years of menial labor, he finally had something to show for it.

  Laci’s body was a machine. She was the image of a perfect Oldenburg sport horse. Her gaits were flashy but elegant, and Chase could envision her multicolored coat standing out brilliantly among the dozens of bay and grey jumpers. Her head was tucked in neatly, tongue silenced by the flash band. Today, everything seemed to be falling into place.

  “Fennec, why don’t you pop her over a few fences for these folks?” he said.

  The little rabbit shortened the reins an inch, and Laci drove her head into the pressure, bars of her jaw tearing. He kicked her forward with the spur, and she obeyed, cantering off at a strong pace. She fought the urge to break the illusion, to throw Fennec to the ground and rip the bridle off her head and show everyone that it was a lie, no matter what Chase would do. Screams of pain hung dead in her throat.

  Her feet flicked across the ground rapidly, anticipating another strike with the whip or jab to her bloody sides. Her skin shivered and her tail swished in agitation, thinly disguised as willingness. She was tired of the constant torture, barely able to contain herself a moment longer. Worst of all, no one could know the truth behind her submission. If her mind slipped away from her here, they would do everything short of killing her. Enough to make her wish she were dead.

  Sultan followed beside her, licking his lips, sending blood spattering to the ground. “I can fix this,” he purred. “I can free you.”

  Her eyes were wet. She said nothing. She tried to trust in what Gabriel had said. Orion would be here to take her home soon. Fennec ripped her mouth raw with the left rein, and she was running for the jump, body writhing with pain and unshakeable energy. She lifted her forelegs and soared over it, trying to reach forward but catching herself on the sharp bit. Cameras flashed, crowds roared, the thoughts in her brain flew by too fast. She felt a surge of power as she hung in the air over the jump, the world standing still. Her left front shoe finally freed itself from her hoof and flew through the air, glittering like a falling star.

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  “Pull her up!” Chase shouted.

  Fennec tried to bring her back, but it was impossible to control her. She wrenched the reins from his hands, tossing her head and shrieking. Chase ran up to her and snatched the reins, beating her with the whip relentlessly in front of everyone. She curled her head back and whined devilishly, but submitted to him.

  “Fennec, get down quickly,” Chase whispered.

  Fennec tried to swing a leg over, but Laci was moving around too much, ignoring Chase’s threats with the whip. Red hot blood was coursing through her, flooding her sight and branding her thoughts.

  “Let him have it, little dove,” Sultan hissed.

  Laci reared up and kicked out at Chase with her free hoof. Fennec hung on for dear life, trying to grab the reins that were just out of reach. Chase flattened his ears, dropped his whip, and punched her in the face. The entire crowd gasped, but the cameras never stopped rolling.

  She screamed and ran from him, bucking and twisting powerfully to throw Fennec from her back. The rabbit slammed into the ring wall and fell facedown into the dirt, blood pooling around him. Chase picked up his whip and ran after her, vengeance written on his face. Alissa fired her tranquilizer gun in a panic.

  “Teach him what it means to have hot blood,” Sultan said, baring his razor sharp teeth.

  She stood in the far corner of the ring, blowing hard from exertion. Her thoughts felt slippery; her reasoning was distant. She reached up and wrestled the bridle off her head, throwing it into the wall with a loud clatter. It had its own trademark now, bloodstained leather. She looked up at Chase, and fear burned on her skin, making her feel hot and restless.

  Chase waited in front of her as she galloped toward him, about to hit her with the whip again. “Learn your place, Lebanon!”

  She did not stop. She grappled his neck in her teeth and ripped straight down. He clutched the wound, magic weaving his skin together, but it was too late. She had already tasted his blood. She had two tranquilizer bullets in her neck and they had done nothing. Her eyes were flat with numbness of thought. She was unreachable.

  “Chase! Look out!” Alissa cried fearfully.

  “Set me free,” Sultan roared.

  His spirit rippled forth from her, mane and tail blazing with fire. Her feet burned with pain from the remaining shoes, but it only made her angrier. Sultan commanded the attention of the room with his sheer size and ominous presence. Chase’s eyes were white with fear. His blood started pumping at a speed he didn’t know was possible. His mind went to its roots, for the first and last time, screaming at him to go, go, go or lose his life. The cries and hoofbeats behind him tore at his ears, the blood streaming forth from their mouths was soaking the ground. Sultan pounced on him expertly, slamming his shoulder into the ground and halving his skin. Chase was frozen with fear, watching with wide eyes as Sultan slowly crept over to his face, keening softly.

  He leaned close to Chase’s ear. “My daughter has no master.”

  A shriek went up that turned Chase’s heart into an iron weight.

  That was when his skin was shed from his body. It wasn’t painful, the adrenaline kept him from feeling a thing. But he could still hear it. Ripping. Tearing. He tasted his own blood, smelled its rich and terrible scent. He watched while his own body pooled around him, unrecognizable, unsalvageable, permanently ruined by hot-blooded wrath. He heard the crackling of flames and smelled the burning of hair and flesh. Whose he did not know. The sky began to grow dim, the sensations began to fade, and his soul drifted further and further from the superficial realm.