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

working too great just yet. We'll walk slowly, it's okay. . . .”

Easy for you to say,she thought resentfully.You didn't just see these people get blown away in front
of you, including your best friend almost dying, and then have that—whatever it was—blue light
thing happen to you.

They moved out through the doorway, and Kayla stopped short, momentarily blinded by bright lights.

There were several camera crews aiming cameras at her, and a huge crowd of people gathered on the
sidewalk, held back by several police officers.
Kayla wondered if she ought to faint or throw up. Either seemed likely right now. . . .

“Just a little more,” the policeman said in a gentle voice. His grip tightened on her arm, as though he
realized that she was about to fall. Half-supporting her, they walked to a police car parked on the edge
of the lot. The policeman helped her into the back seat; Kayla fumbled with the seat belt strap for a few
seconds before the officer reached over to fasten it for her.

There was someone already seated in the car next to her, a beautiful Chicano girl with feathers knotted
into her hair. The girl gave Kayla a curious look. “Why are they not taking you to the hospital?” she
asked. “I saw you lying there, I thought you were dead.”

“Please, witnesses can't talk,” the policeman said from the driver's seat. “Neither of you can talk about
what happened yet, okay?”

Okay by me,Kayla thought.I don't want to talk about it, anyhow. I don't even want to think about
it.

The officer drove in silence through the brightly lit streets. Kayla leaned her face against the cold glass
and tried not to think.

Billy was alive. She knew that much, from the moment that her entire world had faded back from bright
blue lights and hot electricity into normal -reality again. She'd saved his life, somehow, and the life of the
guy in the leather coat.

I should have let that slimeball die,she thought, then shook her head. Even now, she knew she
couldn't have done that. It didn't matter that the man was a murderer . . . even if he was slime, she
couldn't just sit back and watch him die, not when she knew she could do something to help him.

Because she could. It didn't make any sense—none of this made any sense, really—but she could do it,
whatever it was that she'd done. She could help people. A people-helper, that's what she was. The
thought made her feel a little better, despite the awful headache and dizziness and pain.

Except . . . except that wasn't what the crazy man had called her. His words echoed in her mind: “She's
magic. She has the Devil in her.”

Oh God,Kayla thought.I sure as hell hope not.