Years ago, I had spent nights in a cold stall myself, waiting for the footsteps of a man who owned everything I had.

You learn to read the shadows.

You learn to expect a blow even when a hand is offered in peace.

The guard returned with a stainless steel tray holding the supplies.

I poured the amber iodine into a bucket of warm water.

The water turned the color of weak tea.

I took a clean sponge and began to wash the dried mud and grease from the wound.

“This is going to hurt, Vesper,” I said softly.

I pressed the sponge against the hot, infected skin.

The massive horse reared back slightly, his iron shoes clattering against the rubber floor.

Dante stepped forward to grab the lead rope, but I shook my head.

“No,” I said. “Let him move. If you pin him down, he’ll fight until he breaks something.”

I kept my hand flat against Vesper’s flank, leaning my weight against his side.

I wanted him to feel my heartbeat, to know I was standing right there in the danger zone with him.