He pointed at a red-faced man who was struggling to keep hold the reins of a massive black stallion. It bucked and snorted. Even the other horses seemed terrified of getting too near to it.

My mouth dropped open. ‘You have to be kidding me.’

He smirked. ‘Psych,’ he whispered. ‘He’s mine. That one’s yours.’ He pointed at a chubby mare. It had a vacant expression in its eyes and what appeared to be the chewed remnants of a straw hat hanging out of its mouth. ‘Ethan Hawke might not agree but I thought Barbie would be a better fit.’

I raised my eyebrows. ‘Barbie?’ And Ethan Hawke? Byron wasn’t that removed from the rest of the world after all.

His amusement increased. ‘She likes hot pink too.’

I gazed doubtfully at Barbie. Judging by her expression and her lack of interest in the world around her, I was going to have a hard time getting her to keep up with the others. I wondered if Byron had deliberately picked her to make me look like a fool. Then I dismissed the idea. He was conniving, sure, but generally he was a decent guy.

I walked over and patted  Barbie’s neck nervously. She ignored me. Maybe that was a good thing. I stepped back and eyed her saddle. I could climb up tall buildings without a rope; surely, I could get on top of a horse. I put one foot into the stirrup and pulled myself over. Barbie didn’t so much as twitch.

‘Yee-ha!’ I yelled, lifting a hand in the air as if I were on a bucking bronco.

The Kincaid wanker sniggered, throwing me such a derisive look that I stiffened. I formed my fingers into a gun and mimed shooting him. His amusement was immediately replaced by stark fear. I smiled coldly. Yeah, buster; it was probably not the best move in the world to piss off the mass murderer’s daughter.

As I adjusted my weight, out of the corner of my eye I spotted Byron approaching the black beast. The stallion visibly relaxed, allowing him to stroke his mane. With one lithe movement, Byron sprung up. I eyed his thigh muscles as they tightened round the horse’s girth then coughed slightly when he glanced round, grinning as he caught me staring. Oops. I willed the horse to buck him off but although it had appeared to be a deranged beast, now it stood as docile than Barbie.

Aifric moved to the front of the pack and turned to address us. From my position, I had to crane my neck to look up at him although his aura, a vivid scarlet, remained visible. ‘You should all be proud of yourselves,’ he intoned. ‘What we do will secure the Clans for generations to come. Your children’s children will thank you.’