“Hey, gorgeous.” He pulled the imp into a tight hug. “I was just talking to Knox and Levi, they told me you were in here.”
“Did you bet on Tanner’s hound?” asked Khloë, looking at the ticket in his hand.
“I only ever bet on the best.” Teague greeted each of the girls and then gave the other male in the room a cool look. “Keenan.”
“Teague,” the incubus greeted, his voice even.
Teague’s gaze swung to Devon. “Heard Tanner claimed you. I wasn’t sure if I should believe it or not.”
“It’s true,” said Devon. “He—”
The door opened again, and Knox and Levi stalked inside.
“Thought you were never gonna get your epic ass in here,” Harper said to her mate.
Knox’s mouth quirked. “And miss Tanner’s demon run? I think not.”
A bell rang, and Devon’s stomach dropped. “Shit.” She blew out a shaky breath as she turned to the window, and the others all fanned out around her. The outdoor crowd cheered as eight hellhounds fluidly stalked onto the dirt track, all kingly and impressively well-built.
It was easy to recognize Tanner’s hound due to the scar on his muzzle. It was broader than the others, but those extra pounds of sheer muscle never slowed it down. His hound was a regular winner. Which was no doubt why, according to the electronic boards scattered around the stadium, it was favorite to win.
The hellhounds positioned themselves on the track, growling and snapping their teeth at each other. Corded with muscle and exuding confidence, Tanner’s hound braced its legs wide apart and held its head high and proud.
Small fires suddenly sparked to life in random places on the track. Hot, oily pits appeared in others. But it was the sporadically placed puddles of boiling water that concerned her most—they apparently burned like holy hell.
Yeah, nothing about a hellhound race was easy or straightforward. Which was why she wasn’t reassured by how badass, superfast, and agile Tanner’s hound was. Especially when there were some dirty, cheating bastards out there.
Another bell rang, and the hellhounds burst to life. They galloped across the track, kicking up dirt and leaving clouds of dust in their wake. Tanner’s hound fell into fourth place, its pace fast and steady.
“It’s got this, it’s got this.” Bouncing lightly on her toes, Devon cheered the hound on. The whole thing was so intense, her heart was in her throat.
The hellhounds leapt over fires, swerved around oily pits, and neatly avoided the bubbling puddles. They also body-slammed and bit into each other’s flanks as they warred to take first place.
Inside the box, Devon and the others urged Tanner’s hound on. Outside, spectators chanted names, shouted words of encouragement, and cursed any hellhounds that tried to cheat.
Oh, and they did cheat. One mercilessly shoved a competitor straight into a sticky pit. Another leapt onto the back of the hellhound in front of it; sending it smack bam into a bubbling puddle and using the body as a bridge to avoid it.
Tanner’s hound kept its focus firmly on the race, but that didn’t stop it from almost ripping off the ear of its competitor when said competitor tried tripping it up.
As Tanner’s hound skated into third place, Devon grabbed Harper’s tee. “It’s closing in on the others.”
Harper put her fist to her mouth. “It can do this. It can so do this. Come on, come on!”
Raini slapped her hands to her cheeks as the hellhound behind it chomped down on its tail. “Oh my God, what a little fucker!”
Tanner’s hound roared but didn’t slow down. Didn’t retaliate. It just kept on running, its legs a blur as it rocketed along the track.
The voices of the spectators became louder and more frantic as the hounds approached the final part of the track. Which was right around the time that Tanner’s hound veered around a pit and picked up speed, hurtling into second place.
Khloë danced from foot to foot. “Second! It’s second!”
An orb of hellfire whizzed through the air and smashed into one of the other hounds, almost sending it skidding off the track. Then another ball was hurled. And another. And another.
Devon snarled. “Whatever sicko came up with the idea that the spectators could shoot at the hellhounds in the last section needs—Motherfucker!” she cursed as an orb smacked into the head of Tanner’s hound. Its pace faltered ever so slightly, but it kept on going.
Harper patted Devon’s arm. “See, the hound’s okay. It’s fine. The track-people allow the orb-throwing because they like that the race is—”
“Pretty much anyone’s race, yeah, it makes it more exciting,” finished Devon. “But I don’t have to like it.”
She almost jerked back when a ball of hellfire hit Tanner’s rear leg so hard that it was a sheer miracle the leg didn’t crumple beneath it. Even more amazing was that the hound put on a burst of speed, its paws thundering along the dirt track … and bolted into first place.