Ramon leaped out of the car, grabbing Kayla by the arm and yanking her back toward Fernando's car. The car's engine shrieked with the strain as Fernando reversed direction, accelerating backwards out of the alley. Ramon pushed her into the back seat of the moving car, pulling himself in after her. "Go, go!" Ramon shouted, shoving Kayla down and firing his handgun through the open car window. The car skidded backwards into the street, then raced forward in a hard turn, leaving the Mercedes behind in the alley.
At the next intersection, Fernando turned left, driving very fast through the residential streets. Ramon stared out through the back window for several blocks, then turned to Kayla. "Are you all right?"
She nodded, too scared to speak. A hot pain hit her; every nerve in her arm was screaming at her, as the blood dripped down over her fingers. She looked at her own arms in shock; no, it wasn't her, she wasn't hurt at all.
"Jose, mi hermano!" Ramon's horrified voice startled her. She looked up to see Jose pressing a handkerchief to his arm. The cloth was already bright with blood, a widening stain of red.
Jose said something in Spanish, his voice weak. His lips were tight, and he was very pale. Kayla fought the impulse to touch him—she knew he must be in incredible pain already, and her touch couldn't help . . . wouldn't help . . .
A blue spark flickered over her palm, then another. Her hands moved forward as if by themselves, drawn to that pain that she could feel, the pain that was calling out to her. Her hands brushed against Jose's face, his skin cold and damp to her touch. She could feel the magic welling inside her like an irresistible tide, higher and higher . . . she closed her eyes, caught up in something she couldn't understand. Beneath her hands, she could feel the magic coursing into him, flowing down to the source of the pain and washing it away.
She opened her eyes to see Ramon staring at her. His dark eyes were wide with surprise and something she didn't understand. He raised his hand to touch her face. . . .
His hand paused, a fingertip's distance from her cheek, but close enough that she could feel the warmth of it. She felt as though she was within his thoughts, caught up in his astonishment and delight. She couldn't tell her thoughts from his, everything was too close and strange and tinted with the bright glow of the magic.
:¿Querida, que tipo de magica es eso?: he asked silently, and she could feel his joy like a tangible thing, singing inside her mind. It was overwhelming, too many thoughts and emotions that weren't hers, catching her up and spinning her around faster and faster until she couldn't think or feel for herself. She felt like she was falling, lost within his mind and the magic.
"Oh my," she said, and fainted.
Someone was carrying her. That was her first thought. Her second thought was that everything hurt. She shivered, pulling closer to whoever it was who was carrying her.
There were voices above her, speaking quickly in Spanish and English. One loud voice overrode the others. She recognized Carlos' strident tones without even needing to open her eyes. "What happened, Ramon?" he demanded.
Ramon's voice. "I don't know. Jose was hurt and she helped him, and then she fainted—"
"Is she going to die?"
No, I'm not going to die, I just want to, Kayla thought, feeling as though every inch of her was on fire. Then she was lying on something soft; she felt someone gently take off her sneakers and leather jacket. She opened her eyes to see Roberta, a concerned look in her dark eyes, pulling a blanket over her. To her annoyance, Kayla saw that Roberta was wearing the silver hoop earrings.
Bitch, Kayla thought, and would have said that aloud to her, but for some reason her voice wasn't working quite right. "She's awake," Roberta said to someone out of her sight.
Carlos' face appeared above her. "What happened?"
She could feel the intensity of his thoughts, his love for his brother mixed in with terror over their near escape. There was something else, a distant memory of believing that Ramon was going to die, and the furious frustration of being able to do nothing to stop it. She saw herself through his eyes, a fear of losing something of value, something that he desperately needed. Not a person, but a thing, something to be guarded and used carefully.
Kayla tried to push it all away, not wanting to know any more, but she could still sense Carlos, the heat of his thoughts only a few feet away. And Roberta, a seething pool of different emotions: love, hatred, fear, and even concern for the girl lying on the bed in front of her.
And beyond both of them, a sensation of a dark pool, a place of warm emotion that lifted her up and sang within the confusion of her mind. She saw herself through Ramon's eyes, a beautiful girl with bright green eyes and the magic coiling and dancing around her hands.