"Mercedes Lackey & Ellen Guon - Bedlam Boyz" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

He isn't going to kill us, Kayla thought with a faint wave of relief, and opened her eyes.
The man was staring at her. Directly at her, not at Billy, not at Liane. A split-second later,
she realized why: her hands were on fire. No, not exactly fire . . . it was a blue light that flickered
over her hands, lines of light that weaved and danced around her fingers.
She was too startled to do anything except stare at her hands and the pale blue light. A wave
of dizziness hit her, and that strange feeling of hot power, like electricity running through her
entire bodyтАФshe could feel the hair on her forearms standing on end, her hands tingling faintly
where the light touched her.
Oh my . . . oh my God . . .
The light faded away. She stared at her fingers, and through them, saw the gunman shaking
his head slowly, as though he couldn't believe what he'd just seen.
Then she saw his hands tighten on the rifle and knew that in another split-second he'd shoot
them anyhow. . . .
 Kayla didn't even think about it; she dived for him and that gun, sending both of them
crashing into a rack of magazines. She tried to pull the gun out of his grip; he shoved her, hard,
and she fell back against the blond woman's body, which gave way beneath her. She landed on
the floor; her head hit hard against the linoleum. She blinked; the barrel of the gun was only
inches from her face . . . she could see the man, smiling with delight, as his finger tightened on
the trigger. . . .
Billy slammed into the gunman with a football tackle. The gun went off again, gunshots
echoing through the small store. A bullet zinged past Kayla to impact the floor next to her.
She lay there for a moment, concentrating on breathing, then climbed unsteadily to her feet.
Her legs were shaking so much she could barely stand as she moved to where Billy and the man
were both lying motionless on the floor.
Billy was still alive, blood slowly staining through his shirt and jeans. She could see where
the bullets had hit him, one in his leg, another in his shoulder. The shoulder wound was the
worst, blood welling out in a wide stain down his side and onto the floor.
She wanted to scream, but knew there wasn't time for it. Billy was always the one who knew
exactly what to do in a bad situation; she had to think the way he did, do something fast before
all of his life spilled out onto the floor.
She tried to remember what first aid you were supposed to do for gunshot wounds. Applying
pressure to stop the bleeding, that was the only thing she could think of. And shockтАФyou had to
cover them with a blanket or something so they'd stay warm. She didn't have a blanket, or
anything to use on the wound . . . she pressed her hand against the ripped skin and shirt on Billy's
shoulder. Blood flowed out around her fingers, more with every heartbeat.
This isn't working. . . .
She pressed harder. тАЬIt isn't working,тАЭ she whispered. She looked up suddenly at Liane, still
standing by the candy racks. тАЬGo get help, damn it!тАЭ she yelled. Liane didn't move: she was
standing silently, staring at Kayla . . . at Kayla's hands . . .
. . . at the tendrils of blue light, twisting around her fingertips. The light brightened as she
looked at it, radiating out from her hands, moving in rippling circles over Billy's shoulder and
chest. Suddenly she saw Billy's wound beneath her hands, through her hands, as though she was
a ghost. No, it wasn't exactly seeing . . . it was feeling, knowing, sensing the tears through the
skin and muscle, the pressure of the tiny bullet lodged against the bone . . . so small, to do so
much damage! The bullet, a little squashed piece of metal, was buried beneath a layer of
muscleтАФshe reached the part of her mind that was sensing all of this deep into the wound and
tugged at the bullet, carefully working it loose.
It slid into her hand before she realized it. With a shudder, she flung it under the magazine
rack, then turned back to Billy. There was more blood now, flowing from an artery that had been
nicked by the bullet's passage. She touched the wound with unsteady fingers, and the blue light