A few of the herd animals came ambling over to the fence, expecting treats. The tick-tick of high voltage warned him to stay back. The creatures all had long, sloping backs, cloven hooves, tails dragging on the ground. A small herd of about twenty of them wandered about beyond the fence. Three males, the rest females with their multi-gendered young. Yul grabbed a handful of large feed pellets from the wide black bin affixed to the wire fence. He threw them feed through the wire mesh.
“Good boy. Pretty boy.”
An aggressive male butted the others away and snorted, stamping its hooves, lips curled. A row of white blocky teeth, not dissimilar to Kaybra’s, snapped hairs-breadths from his outstretched hand.
Yul stepped back, blinking in amazement.
“Here, you,” bawled a voice behind him. “What’s the idea of feeding them?”
Yul turned to assess the well-built young woman with the husky voice in blue coveralls and floppy straw hat who came barreling out of the barn at him. “You’re here to take care of the criminals? The ones been sabotaging the ranch and animals?”
Yul made no comment.
“Good luck to you.” She thrust a broad hand into the feed box, tossed feed through the fence into a trough. The animals devoured it. The aggressive male seemed to back off, as if by magic.
Yul’s brow rose in a grimace. “Why do you say that?”
“Slippery as eels, those bastards. If I catch any of them, I’ll plug them full of lead.” She dug a hand out of the feed bin and patted the small rifle at her waist.
Yul studied her anew. Not the most attractive woman: a sullen face, square frame, narrow nose and glossy, chestnut-colored hair. His eyes passed over her chunky thighs and back to her heavy jut of jaw and sky blue eyes, which seemed dulled with anger by the present circumstances.
“Don’t feed ’em,” she bawled. “Unless I tell you. You want to make them sick?”
Yul’s brows rose again, as she brought out another handful to feed them.
The large male seemed riled up, as if ready to charge at anything that didn’t please him.
Yul studied its long snout and three bristling horns.
“The iboron plant makes the males edgy and dangerous for riding. They eat it, and it makes them crazy. Does something to their brains. Though not the females. Another sign of the superiority of the females’ genetic make-up.”
Yul smiled wryly. “Why feed them, if they have plenty of sustenance out in the wilds?”
“These here are protein pellets,” she said with a trace of pride. “Don’t need many but makes their pelts glossy. Glossy as shoe shine. Also protects their hides from mange.”
“Sure, if you say so.”
She eyed him through narrow slits, not liking the comment.
A lithe russet-brown shape scuttled at the edge of the trees. It moved head down, swift as a fox. “Damn.” She pulled out her gun and fired off three warning shots at its paws. “Next one of those young cungas comes near here, I’ll draw blood. Teach it a lesson. Scavengers. They harass the dengals and prey on the newborns.”
Yul’s hand went to the back of his neck. She was handy with that gun. No suspect too clean in this sordid affair. Could she have been involved? She had access to the grounds and facilities. Squeaky clean on the outside, but rock hard on the inside.
“You’re Trixie?”
“People call me Trix. Look, the dengals are docile now.”
Yul jerked a thumb at the large, alpha male. “That one looks mean enough.” He squinted at its barrel-like belly, shaggy light purple hide, enormous ears, sharp horns and shiny hooves.
“Vreckin? Well, he used to be the runt of the litter. Got picked on, then grew up fast and furious, bigger than the others. Killed his brother who used to chew on his ears the worst. I wouldn’t go near him, if I were you, especially if he doesn’t cotton to you.”
“What about you? Aren’t you scared of them? You have to tend to them every day, don’t you?”
She chuckled. “Vreckin won’t touch me. I gave him milk while he was a colt growing up.”
Yul nodded, as if nothing could be more natural.
“The mares are better for riding. The males, well, we use them for their fine wool. Good money in dengal coats.”
“Thought this was a nature preserve.”
“Yeah, well, everyone has to eat.” She gave a gravelly chuckle. “The animals pay their way. We’re kind to them and keep these lands protected so they can thrive.”
Yul grunted in acknowledgement.
“I’ll introduce you to the local herd.” Trixie whistled and opened the gates and Yul followed her inside, though his step was more wary than hers. She locked the gate behind her.
“Only approach Vreckin when I’m here—for your own protection. I’m emphasizing it again so you don’t screw up. Give him some feed, he’ll be your friend for a day or two at least.” She plunked some pellets in his hand.
“Good to know.” Yul tossed the victual in the trough.
Those were gone in about ten seconds. Yul worked up enough courage to pat the russet mane of the male with his mechanical hand as it scooped up the pellets from her palm in its squarish teeth. Though part of him wondered if Vreckin would reach up and snap off his hand. Wouldn’t put it past him by the looks of those unreadable, black eyes.
Yul drew inward to melancholy reflection. What fate awaited these
