Free Stabled (The Stables Trilogy #1) by Penny Lam Page A

her swiftly out of the paddock, his eyes never leaving Bane’s bucking mass. Jones was with him, slamming the gate shut and throwing the lock down.
     
    Bane’s angry whinnies met them, but he was contained.
     
    “Are you okay?” Raúl was rubbing her arms as if searching for a break.
     
    She shook him off, disoriented. “I was fine until you came running and spooked Bane and--” a wash of dizziness stopped her. Her wrist and back were still on fire and it was spreading. Her stomach twisted. Maple pulled her cuff up, exposing her wrist. At the same time, they both heard the unmistakable rattle from between the rocks. 
     
    “I take that back. I’m not okay. I’m very not okay.”
     
    Two angry, perfectly spaced, red puncture wounds were staring up at her.
     
     

 
    Chapter Eight
     
    By the time Raúl got Maple to the house she was sweating and shaking. The puncture wounds were bleeding still, a trickle of blood that wouldn’t stop.
     
    “J.B.!” Raúl’s yell boomed through the house. “J.B., Maple’s been hurt!”
     
    The sound of boots on marble beat rapidly in her ears. “What the fuck happened?”
     
    “Rattlesnake. Jones killed it, but she’s been bit twice.”
     
    Maple wanted to say something, but it was hard to breathe, like her lungs just couldn’t take a full breath of air. Instead, her head lolled onto Raúl’s shoulder.
     
    “Take her into my room, now .”
     
    “Shouldn’t we call the hospital?”
     
    “It’s hours away. Goddamnit, Raúl, just take her to my room! Now !” The authority in J.B.’s voice sent Raúl running, with Maple flopping helplessly in his arms.
     
    They went to the hallway of shut doors, down to the end. Raúl had to kick the door open, too desperate to set her down to bother with the knob. The door jamb splintered, but the door swung open. She found herself jostled as he rushed toward the bed.
     
    He laid her down softly, trying to spread her limbs out. Raúl grabbed the bitten wrist and looked at it, hissing. “Jesus.” Maple’s vision was blurring and sweat was in her eyes, but she saw that it was swelling rapidly and turning a frightening shade of red.
     
    Raúl pulled his belt off and made a tourniquet around her arm. Maple cried out as he cinched it tight. But there was no way he could tourniquet her back, where she’d also been bitten.
     
    “Fuck, Belleza,” he murmured, brushing her sweat-soaked hair from her brow. “Don’t die, I’m so sorry, just don’t die--”
     
    “Get away from her!” J.B. stormed over, tainted with menace. Maple managed to turn her head. He had a kit in his hand, which he flung next to her. When his eyes saw the belt on her arm, they narrowed. “What the hell are you doing?” His fingers dropped down, quickly undoing the binding. “This doesn’t help her do anything but lose an arm, too,” he spat, throwing the belt at Raúl. “Let someone who knows what they’re doing take care of her.”
     
    There wasn’t time to see if his rebuke wounded Raúl. Because in that moment, J.B. was all she could look at. His rugged face was lined with worry, his mouth pressed into a tight line. He opened the kit and pulled out six vials and a syringe. “I don’t have much practice with this.”
     
    That was all the apology she got before he opened a vial, filled the syringe, tapped the air bubbles out, and plunged it into her thigh. Next, he pulled out a saline bag, hanging it from his bed frame. He ran the tubes down to her arm. Putting on gloves, he unsealed a needle. Maple looked away. She felt him search for a vein and then the prick of the needle as the IV slid in. She heard the pull and tear of surgical tape.
    When she looked again, he was injecting the saline with the remaining five vials. Where had he learned how to do that?
     
    Her breathing became a little easier. Raúl came dashing in, and she managed to give him a small smile of apology. J.B. was not feeling forgiving. “Good. Now get out,