I shook my head, guilt for being alive cascading through me when Jenks and two men set Peter gently on the ground apart from everyone. Jenks crouched to close his eyes and the other two men backed away, frightened and respectful. The woman’s face blanked. “I wasn’t here, okay?” she said. “You bandaged your own damn leg. I don’t want to be subpoenaed. I wasn’t here.”

“You got it.”

And she was gone, the purple lab coat flapping about her calves as she lost herself in the crush of growing turmoil surrounding the single spot of stillness that was Peter, alone on the pavement, broken and bloody.

Feeling the adrenaline crash, I met Jenks’s gaze. He sank to the pavement beside me so he could see Peter from the corner of his eye. Respect for the dead. He handed me my shoulder bag and I put it on my lap, hiding the remote to blow the NOS. “Push it,” he said.

There were sirens in the distance. They weren’t approaching quickly, but that would change when they reached the bridge and the closed northbound lanes. Behind Jenks was Nick’s truck, a twisted chunk of metal with wheels and no hood. It was hard to believe I had survived it.

The Weres were starting to edge in, clearly wanting to swipe the statue. No one was within that golden circle of twenty feet or between the truck and the questionable safety of the temporary railing and a possible fall. Jenks leaned closer, and with him protecting my face with his body, I clenched my eyes shut and pushed the button.

Nothing happened.

I opened one eye and looked at Jenks. His expression was horrified, and I pushed the button again.

“Let me try,” he said, snatching it away and pushing it himself. The little bit of plastic made a happy clickity-click sound, but there was no big ba-da-boom after it.

“Jenks!” I exclaimed barely above a whisper. “Did you fix this too?”

“It’s not my fault!” he said, green eyes wide. “I rigged it myself. The NOS should have blown. Damn friggen moss-wipe remote. I should have had Jax do it. I can’t solder with that stupid-ass iron Nick had. I must have fused the fairy fucking thing.”

“Jenks!” I admonished, thinking that was the worst thing I’d ever heard him say. Starting to get one of those “Oh crap” feelings, I looked at the Weres. As soon as official people started poking around in there, that statue would be gone and my life with it when they realized it was a fake. “Can you fix it?” I asked, my stomach knotting.

“Five minutes with an iron I don’t have in a private space that doesn’t exist on a bridge six hundred feet above the water surrounded by two hundred good Samaritans who don’t know crap. Sure. You bet. Hell, maybe it’s just the battery.”

This wasn’t good. I sat and stewed while Jenks took out the battery and shocked himself on his tongue. While he swore and danced from the mild zing, I pulled my knees to my chest to get up, wincing at the dull throb in my leg. Ivy and Nick were still beside the flat panel of the Mack truck, Nick looking nothing like himself under his legal disguise charm. The wind coming up through the grating they stood on sent her hair flying. She gestured with a small movement, and I gave her a lost look. Her lips pressed together and she rounded on Nick.