Second Sight by Lynn Michaels

Author:Lynn Michaels [Michaels, Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 1993-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Flagmaster didn’t look like a monster. He looked like a stallion in his prime, a retired champion out for a stroll to survey his domain and soak up some rays. He stood seventeen hands high—and about twenty yards away from Richard. His ebony hide rippled with muscle, twelve hundred pounds of strength, speed and sheer goddamned meanness.

He’d never killed anybody—crippled a jockey and an exercise boy, but never killed anybody. Sportswriters had written of Flagmaster, as they’d written of Secretariat, that his closest competition was the wind.

His records in the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness still stood, which meant Richard had two chances of beating him to the fence—slim and none. His heart slammed in his throat, the sweat on his brow chilled in a lift of wind that fluttered the white-streaked tail that gave Flagmaster his name.

With a deep rumble in his chest, the stallion lowered his head and stepped clear of the barn. The muscle in Richard’s neck spasmed but he didn’t dare rub it, just thanked God he was downwind so Flagmaster couldn’t smell the panic pumping through him, and took a sideways step toward the fence.

The stallion’s nostrils flared and his ears pricked forward. Flagmaster swung himself neatly around to face Richard. Big as a boxcar and agile as a pony. Just Richard’s luck. The wind shifted suddenly and Flagmaster lifted his head higher, his nostrils straining. Any second now the stallion would have his scent. Knowing he was sunk, Richard bolted for the fence.

He had no idea half a ton could move so fast. From the corner of his eye he saw Flagmaster leap after him, felt a moment’s awe at his speed and power, then focused on the fence and saving his ass. He had a jump on the stallion, but not much of one, and poured every ounce of strength he had into driving his legs as fast as he could.

The fence jerked wildly up and down in front of him as Flagmaster’s hoofbeats pounded closer. He wasn’t going to make it. Richard knew it, had known before he broke for the fence he didn’t have a prayer. But he had a choice, one last choice. He chose not to die running and scared out of his mind, and skidded to a halt. He’d spent his life scared and running and, by God, he’d had enough.

“You want me? Here I am!” he shouted, spinning toward the charging stallion and flinging his arms wide.

Startled by the sudden flash of movement in front of him, Flagmaster shied and veered to the left. He swung his head up, bugled, and rolled an eye at Richard. Blinding white light and the headache from hell exploded in Richard’s head. Slivers of pain shot across his skull, a red haze flashed across his line of vision. Black spots, the ground and sky blurred together, then leaped back into focus as Richard shook his head, willed himself not to think about the pain and lunged after Flagmaster waving his arms.

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