“For the moment,” he said, sparkles almost vanishing. “Crap on toast, girl. How come you can do magic and no one else can?”

“Because she’s got a growing sliver of mystics looking to her,” Al said sourly. “That’s probably why you can fly. She’s a magnet.”

I felt like a magnet, all spiky and full of little electrical charges. I looked up at the thump-thump-thump of chopper wings echoing between the buildings. What was left of the crowd scattered, even some of the handcuffed Weres sneaking off. It felt good to be alive, and I leaned into Trent even more. “I told you this would happen. And no one listened.”

“Can she ever be right without rubbing your nose in it?” Al griped, and Jenks spilled a silver dust that vanished too quickly for my comfort.

The chopper swung into the square, and I smiled up at it, knowing it was going to take me somewhere where I wouldn’t have to think for a while, where I could have a bath, wash my hair, and maybe get the bullet out of my leg.

“Oops, she’s going down!” someone called, and I felt myself fall into Trent’s arms.

And I swear, I heard him singing as the helicopter lifted us up and away.

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

The wind whipped my hair into a snarled mess as I inched to the edge of the medical helicopter. In an instant, the scent of antiseptic and bandages was stripped away, the hint of pavement and horse coming to me in the moonless night. Trent reached up, his hand bandaged and a raw red scrape on his cheek where he’d fallen. My heart seemed to skip a beat as I settled my fingers into his. I could have lost him. I could have lost everything.

“She should be in the chair,” said the paramedic who’d taken the bullet out and stitched me up on the way over. Trent just shrugged and lifted me down, my muscles aching as his grip tightened on me. My ribs hurt, and I held my breath. I’d rather die than sit in that chair with straps and be lowered down.

Which is a distinct possibility, I thought as my feet hit the parking lot and the resulting jolt of pain broke through whatever mundane drugs they had me on. “Thanks,” I whispered, feeling ill as I tucked the crutch Trent was handing me under my arm. It was already sized to me. Seemed he kept them on hand as a matter of course.

I was still trying to wrap my head around the mob at the square. They’d shot that man in cold blood. Newt was going to be next. Then me. Then Al. Nothing could excuse that kind of mindless panic, and I was shaken, betrayed by the same people I’d risked my life to save.