A little light-headed and queasy from it, Eve dragged off her helmet. It didn't make it better, and, in fact, brought it home that her head pounded like a bass drum.

Someone moved through the haze toward her. Of course it would be Roarke.

He crouched beside her, took her bleeding hand. "We need the MTs."

"Just need to mop it up."

"There are plenty to mop her up, so -" He guided her toward the door as her team flowed in to deal with the rest.

"Just a little fresh air," she managed. "How long was I in that crap? An hour?"

"Under five minutes from the first flash to the takedown."

"Under five." She gulped in clearer air on the second floor. "It felt like an hour."

"Every bit of it," he agreed as he took a handkerchief from his pocket to wrap around her bleeding hand. "Couldn't get to you," he told her, "and when I nearly did, you slammed the door in my face."

"Timed it so she ran right into it. I didn't want her getting out of the room. Didn't want to risk it. Or one of my team getting blasted, or blasting me by mistake. Magic coat or not, a lot of weapons on scene. Couldn't call out and give her a bead on me."

"So I concluded. Back to the kitchen, I'd say. Cleaner air, some water, a chair."

"I can go for all three. I breathed through my toes."

"What now?"

"Master Wu. Couldn't see in the smoke and flash, couldn't hear clearly with the helmet. Breathed through my toes. Became the fish. Or maybe it was the pebble." Man, her head thumped and banged. "Had to lift the visor to do it, but -"

"Which is why you'll have a black eye."

"Yeah?" She lifted her hand, poked with her finger. "Ow. Anyway, it worked. Best Christmas present ever."

"You're welcome," he said, taking a firmer grip when she stumbled, drunk on the smoke.

He steered her into the kitchen, where McNab was pushing water to a gray-faced Peabody.

"The stair creaked." Peabody croaked it.

"One of those things," Eve said.

"When the grenade hit, I couldn't see a damn thing, and I misjudged the stairs. I went down like a brick."

Eve angled her head as Roarke got more water. "Is that the chin bruise?"

"Hit the tread when I tripped." Obviously disgusted, Peabody tapped the flat of her hand under the raw bruising on her chin. "The helmet rapped up. Bit my tongue, saw stars. And I didn't have your back."

Eve held up a finger, guzzled the water until the burning in her throat went down to raspy aching. The head banging, eye throbbing, hand stinging probably required more than water.

But God, it tasted, just then, better than real coffee.

"So you just sat on the steps crying like a baby?"

"No! I -"

"She crawled." McNab rubbed Peabody's shoulders.

"I couldn't see. At first I could hear you. I could hear the banging around, and she was firing. You, too. But I didn't want to risk a stream hitting you."

"You called out." Eve went back over it all in her head. "Drew her fire. You, too," she said to Roarke. "Stupid risk, but... that's backup in my book."

"Then I couldn't hear you," Peabody continued. "Or see you. Feeney's shouting you're to my left, to my left, but it's a wall. And Roarke's there, pulling me up. I can hear the others coming. We finally found the door."

"Magic coat," McNab added, resting his cheek on Peabody's head.

"I'd have taken one mid-body without it. You, too," Peabody said to Roarke.

"Aren't we the lucky ones?"

"But you shut the door."

"And she ran right into it, knocked herself down. Then I had her."

"But you're bleeding."

Eve took another blissful swallow of water. "You, too. But we got her. So let's take a moment here." She closed eyes that felt as if they'd been scrubbed with sand. "Then we'll go clean it up."

19.

E.

ve took her time, even let the MTs clean up and slap some NuSkin over the gash on her hand.

The bruises elsewhere, and she had plenty of them, could wait.

Because she wanted privacy, and air, she stepped outside with Roarke.

They'd moved the barricades in, closing off the area directly around the building. That didn't stop the gawkers and reporters and really, what was the difference from pressing against those barricades. But she could, and she did, ignore the questions spewed out, turned her back to cameras aimed in her general direction.

"You'd think people would have something better to do."

"For most of these? Murder doesn't come into their lives every day."

"Then they should be grateful." She actively wanted to kick something. And her own ass would have done the job. "I screwed up in there."

"What? When and how?" he demanded. "And remember I was there."

"You weren't in here." She tapped her temple. "Too much in here kept thinking of her as a kid. I told everybody, forget her age, it doesn't apply. But I didn't. She got off strikes, at you, at Peabody. Strikes that could have done serious damage, and the flash grenades on top of it, because I didn't move faster and harder."

"You're going to have to review your own recorder and see for yourself how completely bollocks that is."

"Faster and harder," she repeated. "Even when I had her one-on-one, I... I think maybe I held back just a little, just enough."

"If that's true and, as I've had a look at both of you after that one-on-one, I tend to disagree the only one that got hurt is yourself."

He wanted to take that wounded hand, kiss it, brush his lips over the darkening bruises on her face. But he judged, at that moment, she needed her dignity more than the distraction.

"She's not like you, Eve. She's never been like you, will never be like you."

"Got that." She blew out a breath that streamed white in the cold, vanished. "Maybe I didn't before, but I've got that solid now. And I won't be holding back when I take her in the box."

She looked at him then, those wild blue eyes. Had it really been that same day they'd tired, sickened, stressed swiped at each other with Summerset between them?

It felt like years had passed.

"You should go home," she told him, "and sleep."

Reaching into her pocket, he pulled out the snowflake cap, pulled it over her head. "Did you miss the memo, where I sleep when you do?"

"Then you should go home, buy a couple planets. Seriously, you must have work you've shuffled aside for this."

"I can work at Central."

She blew out a second breath, met those gorgeous blue eyes again. "We're going to have to get you a damn office at the shop."

"Tempting." He smiled. "But thanks all the same. That makes it just a bit too official for the likes of me."

"The likes of you helped bring her down. Don't forget it. Those people over there? The ones who don't have murder in their lives every day, and are really hoping to see some blood, maybe a DB? Any one of them, Roarke. Any one of them could have been next, and they don't get that. They'll talk over a brew later about being this close to a killer. They'll be able to talk about it because you helped bring her down."

"Yet I'm not the one with a six-inch gash on my hand, a black eye and I suspect bruises elsewhere."

"Yeah." She shifted her aching shoulders. "We'll get to the elsewhere later."

"Ah, my personal bonus."

"Well." She flicked her good hand over the cap, nodded. "If you're going to work at Central, let's get moving. Peabody! How about you drive?" she said to Roarke. "I've got some things to set up."

She started setting them up as they circumvented the barricade, ignored the crowd, and headed back to the car.

Nadine came first.

"You fed me false information," Nadine said immediately, with some serious rancor.

"No, I didn't. I just didn't give you all the information. Why does your face look like that? What's wrong with your left eye?"

"Nothing! I'm trying to get camera ready between lightning bulletins." And she continued to expertly line her left eye as she ranted. "You weren't anywhere near Lexington Avenue."

"Not personally, but there was an op in place there, as I told you."

"But you and Willow Mackie weren't in that place, in that operation. Now I've got to get my ass into the station, go on air, and spin all my earlier bulletins so I don't look like an ass, while New YorkOne happened to have a damn reporter half a block from where you took that bitch down, and has already done live remotes right on scene."

"Well, you could do that," Eve said as Roarke drove. "Or you could get your half-camera-ready self down to Central and broadcast a one-on-one exclusive with the primary who led the op and took that bitch down. If you take option two, you'd better get there fast."

"Fifteen minutes," Nadine said and cut Eve off.

"Peabody, arrange for Willow Mackie to be brought into an Interview room as soon as she's medically cleared. And find out if she's asked for a lawyer. Reo," she said into her 'link. "Willow Mackie's been taken into custody."

"So I heard New YorkOne's all over it. I'm on my way into Central."

"Good. We need to talk."

"Did you get your face banged up in the arrest?"

"Yeah, there was a little... scuffle."

"Isn't that a shame?" Reo smiled sweetly. "Put some ice on it. I'll see you there."

Eve spent the rest of the drive contacting Mira, then Whitney.

The minute Roarke pulled into her slot in Central's garage, Eve hopped out. "Peabody?"

"Interview A. She's been cleared medically, and will be brought up within the next ten. She hasn't said the L word yet."

"Good. I want you to forget her age."

"Done. Believe me."

"But work her like that's a factor for you."

"Sympathetic." Peabody sighed, and sighed long. "I'm always sympathetic."

"Because it comes off real. But over that, play the disappointed and somewhat angry teacher to the student who fucked up. Adult to child, and the adult's in charge."

"I can do that."

"There's more, and we need to work out the timing in a huddle with Reo. I'm going to square things with Nadine." Eve rocked on her heels in the elevator as she calculated. "All in all that should give her a solid twenty minutes to sit and wait in the box."