Susan looked around her at all the lit candles, getting her breath back. I saw her expression soften, and turn a little sad. We'd eaten a lot of dinners here, by candlelight. We'd done a lot of things that way. I studied her features while she stood lost in thought. The tattoos changed her, I decided. They changed the proportions and lines of her face. They lent her features a sort of exotic remoteness, an alien beauty.

"Thirsty?" I asked. She shot me a look with a hint of frustration in it. I lifted my hands. "Sorry. I didn't think."

She nodded, turning a little away from me. "I know. Sorry."

"Coke?"

"Yeah."

I limped to the icebox, which was going to need more ice before long. I didn't have the leftover energy to freeze the water again by magic. I grabbed two cans of Coca-Cola, opened them both, and took one to Susan. She took a long guzzle and I joined her.

"You're limping," she said when she was done.

I looked down at my feet. "Only one shoe. It makes me lopsided."

"You're hurt," she said. Her eyes were fastened on my leg. "Bleeding."

"It isn't too bad. I'll clean it up in a minute."

Susan's eyes never wavered, but they got darker. Her voice grew quieter. "Do you need help?"

I turned a bit warily so that she couldn't see the injured leg. She shivered and made an evident effort to look away. The tattoos on her face were lighter now-not fainter, but changing in colors. "I'm sorry. Harry, I'm sorry, but I'd better go."

"You can't," I said.

Her voice remained very quiet, very toneless. "You don't get it. I'll explain everything to you in a little while. I promise. But I have to leave."

I cleared my throat. "Um. No, you don't get it. You can't. Cannot. Literally."

"What?"

"The defenses I put up have two sides and they don't have an off switch. We literally, physically can't leave until they go down."

Susan looked up at me and then folded her arms, staring at her Coke can. "Crud," she said. "How long?"

I shook my head. "I built them to run for about eight hours. Sunrise is going to degrade it a little though. Maybe four hours, five at the most."

"Five hours," she said under her breath. "Oh, God."

"What's wrong?"

She waved a hand vaguely. "I've been … been using some of the power. To be faster. Stronger. If I'm calm, it doesn't get stirred up. But I haven't been calm. It's built up inside of me. Water on a dam. It wants to break free, to get loose."

I licked my lips. If Susan lost control of herself, there was no place to run. "What can I do to help?"