Once Dead, Twice Shy

I was shaking as I backed the truck up and then put it into forward gear. Josh was slumped against the passenger door. Don't go invisible. Grace had said that before. That it drew the black wings in. But I hadn't had a choice.

"Josh?" I said as we found the pavement and I slowed to an infuriating crawl to avoid the people just now starting to abandon the park. "Josh, talk to me." I looked behind me, but it was as if no one had heard Nakita scream. No one had seen a winged angel arched in pain in a terrible beauty under the trees.

I reached to shake him, and he groaned. "Hospital," he whispered. "Madison, I feel like I'm dying. Get me there. Please."

Fear struck me. I jostled out onto the main road, and then I floored it. Horns blew, and I turned the hazard lights on, for what good they would do.

When my dad found out about this, he was going to kill me. Again.

The smell of rubbing alcohol and adhesive drifted out from the sterile white hallway and into the brown-and-taupe emergency waiting room. It was quiet now but for a woman with a fussy baby on her lap, and I hunched over my knees and rubbed my elbow, remembering what it had felt like when I'd hit Nakita. I was tired, weary of waiting to hear something. The mom had a little boy with her too, who was busy causing trouble and probably mad that his little sister was getting all the attention.

Harried, the woman was giving me dirty looks as she filled out paperwork to get her feverish baby girl looked at. She'd been here when I'd blown in, but an unconscious person gets treatment before a colicky baby. Though some of the rush might have been caused by me yelling at the emergency people. I hadn't shut up until a cop, who had apparently been following me, had come in. I swear, I hadn't seen her in my rearview mirror. Maybe I'd been going too fast, but it had taken only eight minutes to get here.

Eight terrifying minutes in which I thought Josh was going to die.

My feet scuffed the flat carpet, and I slumped into the cushions as I glanced at the officer talking to the nurse in a pink lab coat. The young-looking cop had my license, which meant my dad was probably on his way. I'd tried to call but had been unable to bring myself to leave a message other than that I was okay and that I was at the hospital with Josh.

The sight of the nurse made my gut cramp in worry. Josh had been whisked away after I'd said he'd collapsed at the track. This woman in her pink lab coat was the first medical person I'd seen since, and she wasn't telling me anything. Stupid privacy laws.

At least Grace was with him, though the angel wasn't happy. Actually, she was royally P.O.'ed, and I think they almost checked me in for observation when I'd had a hushed argument with her until she capitulated. He was unconscious and I wasn't, so he needed her. Duh.

The cop's voice rose, and I grew nervous when they looked my way. The two women said something in parting; the nurse went down the hall, and the cop came to me. I couldn't remember the name she had given to me in our first discussion, but her badge said B Levy. B for Betty? Bea? Barbie? Nah. Not with that pistol on her hip.

Officer Levy stopped a shade too close for my comfort, her no-nonsense shoes rocking slightly on the carpet as she halted. My eyes traveled up her pressed pants, belt, weapon secured in a snapped holster, starched shirt, badge, and finally to her face. She didn't look old enough to have been a cop for long, and it irritated me that her expression was trying for parental concern. Right, like she had kids? Don't think so.

She had a nice face, though, with short, sandy-blond hair and hazel eyes, suntanned and showing only worry wrinkles. She wasn't saying anything, and when she arched her eyebrows, I looked away. She could give me a ticket for reckless driving and failure to stop, but what traffic-school, goody-two-shoes Scrooge would press charges for that when I was going to the hospital with an injured friend?

"Josh has stabilized," she said, and my gaze darted up, surprised.

"Thank you," I whispered, and my shoulders eased. I hadn't known they were tense.

"They had an ambulance at the carnival," the officer said as she took the seat beside me, sighing when the weight left her feet and she ran a hand over her hair. She looked too spunky to be a cop. I hated it when people called me spunky, but that's what she looked like: fun, energetic, and someone who'd push the limits for a little excitement.

"Why didn't you take him there instead of endangering the entire town?" she added. She wasn't anything like the cops who'd brought me home after I broke curfew during a Category 1 hurricane at my mom's house. Talk about drama.

"I didn't know there was an ambulance," I admitted, but what was I going to tell her? That a dark reaper had tried to kill Josh and he needed major medical attention?

The officer chuckled. "You drive pretty well," she said, and I gave her a sour smile.

"Thanks." I quit rubbing my elbow where I'd hit Nakita when she looked at it, clasping my hands together instead. Officer Levy sat up straighter, and I sighed. Here comes the lecture.

"I've called your parents," she said, and I turned to her, alarmed.

"You called my mom?" I asked, really worried. She would flip out.

"No. Your dad. You have a worrisome record, Madison, for someone your age."

My record didn't bother me, since it wasn't anything bad like shoplifting or armed robbery. Just breaking curfew and loitering. Whoo-hoo! Big freaking hairy deal. Relieved, I slumped into the chair. "What was I supposed to do, Officer Levy?" I asked, my expression begging for understanding. "What would you have done? So I drove a little fast to get Josh to the hospital. I was scared, okay? I thought he was dying."

The woman's eyebrows rose. "I would have called for help and stayed with the victim until it arrived. You generally don't die from heatstroke."

"If it was heatstroke, they would've let me see him by now," I said, and she made a soft noise of agreement. The silence grew, and thinking she was waiting for me to say something, I offered a hesitant, "I'll remember that next time. Call for help. Stay with the victim." But there was no one on earth who could have helped me. Maybe I shouldn't have given Grace any orders. It seemed to have wiped out whatever orders Ron had left with her, including going to get him if there was trouble she couldn't handle.

Officer Levy got to her feet so she could look stern again. "I'm hoping there won't be a next time," she said as she handed me my license. "Don't leave until I have a chance to talk to your dad."

"Okay." I took the laminated card, glad she didn't want me to go fill out a report or anything. "Thank you."

Officer Levy hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me anything else?"

Hiding my alarm, I looked steadily up at her. "No. Why?"

Her gaze remained fixed on mine. "You have grass in your hair and dirt on your tights."

My gaze wavered, and I refused to look at my legs. Damn it!

"Was there a fight?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. "Who else was involved?"

Looking away, I shrugged.

Officer Levy sighed. "I know it's hard to fit in at a new school, but if there was a fight, I need to know. You're not a snitch."

"Josh didn't get into a fight," I said. "He collapsed." I could have lied and told her I fell down and got dirty while catching him, but why bother?

She just looked at me, and I stared back. Finally she pressed her lips together, and with another one of her small noises, she walked over to the receptionist. Officer Levy would probably stay until she could talk to Josh's parents. I hoped I'd be out of here before they showed up. Josh was a good guy, and I knew they'd take one look at my purple hair and earrings and label me not good enough for their little boy, thinking someone like Amy was better.