“Prize. Prey. Some might argue they are one and the same.” His grin was carved of wicked intent. “The host chooses the prey each Blood Season. Participants only learn what they’re looking for in the stables, right before the hunt begins.”
My blood turned cold. “Wrath said there was no sacrifice involved during any portion of the three-day event.”
“I never said anything about a sacrifice. I just said someone or something will be hunted.” He studied me closer than I would have thought possible, considering how much he’d had to drink. “No one kills the chosen prey.” He winked. “We’re not total monsters.”
“Why did you want me masked?”
“To see if you’d indulge me.” He lifted a shoulder and dropped it. As if that were all the reason anyone needed. I was glad I’d decided against wearing a mask. “Has anyone told you why it’s called a Blood Season?”
“No, but I’m sure it will be a delightful story.”
“If a lesser demon or noble wins the hunt, they have the option to drink the elixir of life.”
“Blood.”
My stomach flipped as Gluttony nodded. Nonna used to tell us the Wicked drank blood. Now I knew where that rumor had come from. “What if a royal wins?”
“We have the option to claim our own prize, if at least four of us vote in favor of it. But drinking the elixir of life is not the only reason we call it a Blood Season. The winner of the hunt is decided by whoever draws first blood. Participants choose how much to spill, and how they spill it. Claws, blades, arrows, teeth.” His gaze turned back to the stables. A gunshot rent the air, startling me. “Ah, yes. They’ve found the ice rifles. If I were you, I’d consider joining the hunt now.”
“I told you, I don’t ride.”
“A shame. This year they’re hunting an ice dragon. Majestic, violent, creatures.” He tore his attention away from the building in the distance and looked at me again. “And as for riding, I’d reconsider. I’ve found that sometimes our bodies recall what our minds do not.”
Gluttony inclined his head, then strode back into his castle, leaving me to contemplate his parting words. A second shot cracked like thunder and the sound of a stampede followed, the ground rumbling beneath my feet. Something stirred in my blood.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I hiked up my skirts and raced toward the stables.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Outside the stables, a pale violet mare toed the snow with spiked metal hoofs before turning quicksilver eyes on me. Intelligence gleamed out from those liquid eyes as I slowly approached the massive hell horse. A silver crescent moon glimmered on its forehead and a handful of stars spread over its rear end like a constellation.
“Aren’t you divine, girl?” I stepped close. “I’m not sure what your name is, but I need to call you something. How about Tanzie? Short for Tanzanite.”
I smiled as the horse inclined her head in approval.
The moment of tranquility was short-lived. In the distance, shouts rang out, followed by an earthshaking roar. I imagined it belonged to the ice dragon Gluttony mentioned.
The hunt was clearly in full swing, but I was less concerned with it than I was with the growing need to ride as hard as I could over the frosted grounds.
My heart pounded like a war drum. Riding fast across this terrain would be dangerous, if it weren’t for the claw-tipped horseshoes. I petted Tanzie’s flank with confidence, somehow knowing she would tolerate nothing less from the person she allowed the honor of taking her saddle. And what a beautiful saddle it was—dark and oiled so it appeared like frozen ink.
A small pouch hung on its side. Gluttony must have had it readied.
Placing one foot in the stirrup, I swung myself up and over, grateful I’d decided to wear thick stockings under my dress. Choosing to sit astride was hardly an appropriate position, but I doubted anyone in the underworld viewed it the same way as mortals.
My thighs tightened around the horse as I readied myself. I clucked my tongue and lifted the reins. I didn’t have to urge the great beast further. Tanzie trotted away from the stable and made her way down a sloping hill, gaining speed on the decline instead of slowing.
Judging from the muffled sounds of hooves beating snow, the hunting party was behind us, either in the forest or just at its edge. There were no rules that stated I had to participate in the hunt, but I didn’t want to get caught out here and be encouraged to join them.
My breath clouded in front of me as I leaned forward in my seat, heart thumping in time with each beat of the steed’s hooves. We careened around Gluttony’s castle, the gentle slope turning into a sharp drop-off. My unbound hair flew back as the biting winds stole nips of my flesh. Tears stung my eyes, but I couldn’t blink, couldn’t help myself as I stood higher in the saddle while the horse plunged down the mountain. A memory was stirring… I felt as if I’d been here before, racing the wind and riding like a warrior into battle.