Laci hung over the sink, delirious. She coughed up more blood, and it splattered on the mirror. It was everywhere, dried on her limbs, tinting her hair, streaking down her face. She couldn’t escape from what happened in the square.

  “Easy, little dove,” Sultan sang in her ear.

  She was grateful to have him. There was no one else to comfort her here. Her prison cell looked strangely like a hotel room-a bathroom to herself and a room twice the size of a Services pen. It was still obvious she was trapped, however; the tiny metal bed in the corner, barred windows, and cold tile floors were a constant reminder. The extra space didn’t help her claustrophobia. She had spent the last hour strung out on tranquilizers, circling around the room like a toy train.

  She wiped the wet blood from her chin with an arm, and sat on the floor of the shower. Her legs pinched and seared with pain as she stretched them out in front of her. She reached up and turned on the water, which was ice cold. It felt so good against her red hot skin, she couldn’t describe it. Tears dribbled uncontrollably down her cheeks and blended with the water on her face.

  She heard the click of the door opening, and jumped to her feet. Her chest felt like it was burning, mounting with pressure like a vise grip. A buckskin Quarter horse appeared in the doorway, and he leaned on the frame.

  “Found the shower already? You really are smarter than they made you out to be,” he drawled.

  She clamped her tail hard and swung her head at him in challenge, snapping at him with still-bloody jaws. He was holding a long black whip with a shiny copper tip behind him. She didn’t like his tone at all.

  He was completely undeterred by her threat. “Where are my manners? Pleasure to meet you at last, Laci. You can call me Chase. If you can find your voice, that is.”

  She flattened her ears and struck out at him with a squeal. He kept coming closer, backing her into the corner of the bathroom, and a draft horse followed behind him. The blue Belgian crushed her into the wall and tried to force her jaws open for a copper bit. She tried to get loose, but his burly shoulder held her firmly. She let her mane light up in flames, and he released her, cursing and holding his burned arm. Laci leaped forward and kicked Chase in the head, and the wound exploded with blood as he fell. She stood over him, smiling devilishly and growling. They thought they had a chance at subduing her? Good luck.

  Chase swept his hoof over his wound, and with a tiny glow, it vanished before her. He stood up in front of her and brushed himself off as if nothing happened. She was frightened by the display, but attacked again, diving for the back of his head. He cracked the tipped whip across her chest, extinguishing her flames and giving her a painful lash. She yelped and tried to fight, but he kept going, even striking her face, until she backed away from him. She curled her head and let out a low whine, eyes fixed on his neck.

  “Someone’s not happy about their intake exam,” Chase jeered.

  He pinned her against the wall, holding his whip to her shoulder until she stood still. He forced the bit into her mouth, and she chewed it furiously, trying to quell the pain of the copper. Blood dripped down as he tightened the flash band around her nose to silence her. The blue roan grabbed her by the reins and held her head stiffly, choking up right beneath her chin. They walked her out to the narrow hallway. It was hot and stuffy, and with her face tied up, it felt impossible to breathe. She shifted her feet around, practically trotting, until Chase slapped her with the whip to stop her.

  “You’ll remember your manners soon enough,” he said.

  A cremello mare passed by them, holding a grey Andalusian mare by the reins.

  “Alissa! How’d it go with your friend there? Isabel, is it?” Chase asked cheerily.

  Alissa rolled her eyes, irritated. “She had a massive tantrum in the middle of a perfect dressage test. I wish I knew what possessed her.”

  “That’s a shame. But she’s only three weeks in. There’s time,” he comforted.

  Laci grew tired of standing in the hall, bitted up, sweat rolling down her neck. She jumped up like a Lipizzaner and kicked a hole in the wall behind her, snarling viciously. Chase grabbed her and shanked her hard, yanking sharply on the reins until she stopped fighting back. Blood fell from her mouth uncontrollably.

  “Quit that. Stand up there,” he barked.

  “Is that mare turning out to be everything they said she was?” Alissa asked.

  Chase sighed. “No, of course not. They sensationalize everything. If no one let her, she wouldn’t have harmed a soul. She’s still very fearful. The really aggressive ones aren’t afraid of anyone.”

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  Sultan snorted hard and let out a screaming laugh like a wildcat. “If only you knew, buckskin.”

  “Well, I won’t keep you. Famous or not, I’m sure she’s still quite the handful,” she said. She carried on down the hall, dragging Isabel beside her.

  Laci caught the eye of the young grey mare as they passed by. It was an empty black pit. She was soaked in sweat and there was foam flying out of her mouth. She must be some fine dressage horse, Laci imagined, with a double bridle and a jet black saddle fit for a show. The pretty mare hung her head low, exhausted and ashamed. She stared straight ahead, and could not even return Laci’s gaze.

  They approached the infirmary, and Laci threw her head in the air as soon as she smelled the pungent rubbing alcohol. She tried to spin around, but Chase corrected her sharply with the crop. They marched her straight in, making her stand square on a black rubber mat. Chase threatened her with the stick to keep her in place.

  “Who’s this again?” a gruff voice called out from the back office.

  “Laci. Of Lebanon. With Chase,” the buckskin yelled back.

  They waited a few moments for the doctor to walk out, carrying a thick stack of paper that comprised Laci’s records. It was a lot bigger than she remembered. He leafed through them with a hoof, and squinted.

  “The most recent medical documents are mostly defunct. What do you think that’s for?” the doctor asked.

  “Probably the pony they discharged. He was in on it with this one,” Chase said, slapping Laci on the shoulder. She screeched and tossed her head up.

  “Oh, I knew Pontier. The last thing I expected was for him to jump ship. I’ll read these, but I’m taking them with a grain of salt,” the doctor said. He skimmed a page, but something caught his eye. “Diagnosed with bleeders, cause is genetic. Hotblood. I don’t believe that for a minute.”

  “What, she’s not spicy enough to be a hot horse? She’s a killer,” Chase blabbed.

  The doctor stared into Laci’s diamond blue eyes. “It’s not that. She’s a pinto. I’ve never seen a colored hotblood before.”

  He put down the records and ran a hoof down Laci’s body, firmly pushing down on her muscle. She arched her back and screamed, pinning her ears back and threatening to kick with a hind foot.

  “She’s skinny. Excellently muscled, though,” the doctor pointed out.

  He forced her hooves up and felt their soles for firmness. She jerked her legs around, uncomfortable. Sultan stayed right by her side the whole time, humming to calm her nerves.

  “Wait for the right moment, little dove. The hardest thing in the world is to be patient, but we cannot fight now. They will only hurt you,” he said.

  She trembled with fear. She had stopped chewing the bit, but carefully slipped it from one side of her mouth to the other in a strict rhythm.

  “Put her into the chute. Blood and shoes,” the doctor said.

  Chase grabbed her tightly under the chin and dragged her onward into a cattle crush. She pushed backward against him, rising up on her hind legs to warn him. He drove her on with the whip, plying it against her flanks hard. She fled from him into the chute, and the Belgian pulled the lever quickly, slamming the metal bars closed.

  She crashed around inside, trying to push through or back out, but she was stuck tight, the bars in the front too narrow to pull her head through. She howled wildly, the terror of confinement worse than anything she had ever felt before. Her face was bleeding everywhere, and she had torn the flash off the bridle in her thrashing. Her mouth gaped open from the burning bit.

  “Still don’t think she’s a hotblood?” Chase joked.

  The doctor shook his head, rubbing his temple with a hefty hoof. “Chase, will you ever learn to watch your tongue?”

  He put on a pair of thick leather gloves and tied Laci’s hoof to the bars of the crush with a cotton rope. When the copper shoe touched her foot, she hissed and screamed louder than ever. It was like someone had taken a knife and cut her hoof wall right off where the shoe had touched. She pulled against the restraint, but her resistance only bruised her sides on the chute.

  “Easy, easy, I know it hurts. I know,” Sultan purred.

  He sang to her, trotted in place, did anything he could to distract her from the pain. By the time they reached the last hoof, Laci was soaked in sweat, and she couldn’t stand in the chute. Her legs felt like they had been lit on fire, and she lay limp on the floor of the crush, nostrils still flared, trying to get air. Everything around her had blurred, and the fluorescent lights looked brighter than the sun. Even the smallest sounds were deafening.

  “They will go on, by and by,” Sultan sang to her in a low voice.

  The doctor popped the cap off of an empty syringe and drew blood from Laci’s neck. It was almost black in color. The Belgian stared at it with suspicion.

  “Is it normal for blood to run that dark?” he asked.

  The doctor squeezed the blood into a test tube and rocked it back and forth. “It’s just because she’s dehydrated.”

  He placed the tube in a rack and reached for a metal box on the shelf. With a pair of forceps, he picked up a little copper bearing and dropped it into the test tube. As soon as it touched the blood, it began to pop and boil. A long crack ran its way down the tube, and a drop of the simmering black blood rolled out of it. Chase seemed discomforted by it, and the doctor was fascinated.

  He hesitantly picked up the tube with the forceps and raised his brow. “You have work to do on this one, Chase.”