cell

in the next cell, was watching her through the open bars. She avoided his curious eyes, looking instead at the man who'd tried to kill her.
There was something wrong with him, she could tell, even at this distance. Something broken inside that made him crazy this way. Her hands tingled, and she glanced down quickly, making sure that her fingers weren't glowing again. They weren't, fortunately. Kayla looked back at the crazy man, wondering just how one would fix something wrong inside somebody's head; it wouldn't be like fixing a gunshot wound, that was more like patching things back together. No, this would be like reaching ­inside and changing something. . . .
Elizabet began speaking in a quiet voice to the policeman; with the lunatic screaming at the top of his voice, Kayla couldn't hear what she was saying.
“Hey, chickie.” The gunman's voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. “I know who you are, I know what you did.”
Kayla moved closer so she could hear him. “What?”
“It's magic, did you know that? I've seen magic, and that's what you did.”
Elizabet spoke sharply from behind her. “Kayla! Get away from—”
The man reached out and grabbed Kayla's arm, yanking her toward him with inhuman strength. “Devil!” he screamed. Kayla was pulled hard against the metal bars, struggling to get free. The man's other hand clamped onto her throat, tightening painfully.
Elizabet's hand was on the man's arm, trying to pull him away from Kayla. A split‑second later, Kayla felt a shock of hot fire go through her hands, a sudden pain like a knife. The man yelped and leaped back, falling onto the floor of his cell.
Elizabet pulled her back from the cell, blocking the lieutenant's view of Kayla with her own body. Kayla glanced down, and saw why: a handful of blue sparks, flickering like fireflies on a Southern night, were fading from her own fingertips as she watched.
“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” Elizabet asked urgently.
Kayla shook her head. “I'm okay, really.” She looked at the man cowering in his cell, clutching his left arm. “Did he—?” She turned