"Mercedes Lackey - Urban Fantasies" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

reassuringly. She looked up at him, dazed and uncomprehending.

“Dale,” Anne Houston said, her voice sounding shaken, “This is too weird for words . . . the guy's
covered with blood and there's a hole in his jacket, but there's no bullet hole in him!”

***

“Just shock,” someone said directly above her. “I didn't find a head injury . . . she probably fainted
during the attack.”
Everything hurt. That was her first thought when she opened her eyes: her entire body felt like one big
bruise, like she'd gone through the tumble-dry cycle on a clothes dryer. Someone was looking down at
her, a tall man with graying brown hair, wearing the dark blue uniform of the LAPD.

“Thanks, Randall,” he said to someone out of her sight. He smiled at her, his brown eyes crinkling at the
corners, then looked up sharply as a woman shouted, “Dale, grab him!”

Kayla blinked and sat up, then wished she hadn't. Everything spun around her, and she felt like she was
falling. Someone fell on top of her, and she screamed. It was the man in the leather coat, his face only
inches from hers. “Got him, Anne,” the police officer said, and hauled the man in the leather coat up
against the magazine rack, twisting his arms behind him and slapping on a pair of handcuffs.

“Do you know this guy, kid?” the female officer asked.

Kayla found her voice. “I've never . . . never seen him before. But he . . . he killed those people. He
would've killed all of us.”

The gunman grinned at her, licking his lips. Whatever had been human in his eyes, for that brief moment
when he'd pleaded with her to save his life, was gone again.

She tried to sit up, and everything went blurry again. When her head cleared, she saw two paramedics
carefully moving Billy out of the store on a stretcher. The blonde woman's body was still lying by the
counter, but someone had placed a blanket over her face. The policewoman was reading Miranda rights
to the gunman, two other police officers holding the man by his handcuffed arms. The brown-haired
policeman was next to her, watching her intently. “Do you feel up to a trip to the station, kid?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

“Good.” He helped her stand up. Her knees were so wobbly, she had to hold onto his arm for support.
“You're a tough kid,” the cop continued. “You survive this, you'll survive anything.”

Will I?she thought.

“She's magic!” the gunman shrieked suddenly, trying to wrest free from the policemen. He struggled
briefly, staring at Kayla with insane eyes. Beneath the leather coat, his shirt was still wet with blood. “She
healed me, she has the Devil's power! I saw it, she has the Devil in her!”

“Jesus, get him out of here,” the policewoman said in an exasperated tone. The other officers complied,
wrestling the man through the door.

“I'll take you to the station now,” the brown-haired officer said. “Easy now, I know your legs aren't