Page 48 of Cold Foot Komodo

“There’s a snake-bite kit in the console of my truck.”

“I’ll get it,” he said, and disappeared.

In a rush, she rifled through her medical case and pulled what she needed. She was loading needles by the time Wreck returned with the snake-bite kit.

She looked back at Reed, who was kneeling by the wall, eyes on King. “Pull your own venom,” she barked.

Without a word, Reed stood and started putting together the plunger and suction cup.

She injected the antibiotics into King’s shoulder as Reed drew venom and blood from each ragged tooth-mark on King’s chest. Some would already be in his system, but any help they could give to King, they were going to do it.

Katrina was talking to Wreck in the hallway. She was crying, from the sound of it.

“He’s going to be fine,” Sasha called out.

Reed huffed out a long, relieved breath. “Truth.”

“You got to believe if you do what I do for a living,” she whispered. “Draw venom faster, please.”

Reed went to work and found his rhythm as she emptied every medicine she possessed that had any shot of helping King directly into his bloodstream. She wished she had an IV. Hell, she wished they were doing this at the hospital, but she would have to break about a dozen rules to treat him like she needed to. Shifters were a different animal. Beth had been right about that.

Already, King’s ragged breathing was steadying out, and the burning temperature of his skin was normalizing.

King sat up in a blur with a gasp, and grabbed her arm so hard, she thought he was breaking it. She yelped, but Reed was there. He slammed his fist straight across King’s jaw. “Let her go! She’s helping!” He hit him again, and again, but King’s eyes were vacant, like he couldn’t feel anything.

“King,” she pleaded.

“Let her go!” Wreck demanded.

King’s hand went limp, and she fell backward and hit the wall hard.

She gripped her arm and winced.

“Kat?” King bellowed.

“Kat, come in here,” Wreck called, trying to help Reed keep King down.

Katrina appeared in an instant and bolted for her mate. King settled, and they started talking low as Reed made his way to Sasha.

He hesitated before he knelt in front of her. “Let me see it.”

“It’s fine,” she said, defensive and shut down. “I’m fine.”

Gently, he pried her hand from her arm and brushed his finger over the red marks there. “Can you move it?” His voice still held a hiss to it that she didn’t recognize.

She tried, and succeeded. “Just bruised.”

He nodded, his eyes full of some emotion she couldn’t read. His shoulders rose and fell with his fast breath, and his eyes were both still light—one almost white, and one the color of good whiskey.

“What’s going on with you?” she asked. “King is your friend.”

There was suffering in his eyes as he eased back and ran his hand down his face. “Thank you for helping him.” His words were thick in his throat.

Reed stood and left the room without looking back.

“Reed,” Wreck said. “You need to be treated. Reed!”

Treated? “Is he hurt?”

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