Page 11 of Stealing Embers

The back of my head cracks against the ground on the last roll.

I lay spread eagle in the middle of the road, convinced every bone in my body is broken.

My vision swims. The telltale sparks of light sputter on the edges of my eyesight before condensing in the middle and petering out, alerting me I’m back in the real world.

Everything hurts.

I’m going to skin that bird.

The sound of feet pounding against the ground grows louder as the seconds tick by.

“Steel! What were you thinking?” That musical voice is vaguely familiar and very annoyed.

“She called me a fat turkey.” I hear, rather than see, the shrug in his words.

“I don’t care if she called you Big Bird. You don’t just drop someone from the air. She’s hurt!”

A blurry face appears above me at the same time someone else blows out a harsh breath. A car engine revs in the distance.

I blink twice before Karen’s concerned features register—my mind is understandably sluggish.

“Are you okay?”

That was a dumb question. Of course I’m not okay.

Another head pops into view. He’s blocking the sunlight, so his features are shrouded in darkness. I squint up at him, but his face won’t leave the shadows.

“She’s going to be fine. You know how fast we heal. Besides, if she hadn’t run from us, none of this would have happened.”

“Steel,” Karen snaps at the guy.

“What?” He holds up his hands, all earnest innocence. “I got her to safety, didn’t I? Where’s my thanks?”

What. A. Jerk.

I strain my arm muscles, fully intending to show him my favorite finger, but it hurts too much to move. I have to settle for a scathing glare that he doesn’t even catch.

I don’t know how he did it, but I’m pretty sure this dude shape shifted into a bird and dropped me on purpose.

“Get in the car. We’ll discuss this back at the academy.”

He shrugs and straightens.

Good riddance.

Karen captures my attention once again. She opens her mouth to speak but is cut-off by a surprised exclamation from Bird Boy.

“Sable, her hair!”

Sable?

Karen reaches forward and snatches a lock of my light blonde, red-tipped hair.

Somewhere along the way, I lost the hat. Not surprising when you’re running for your life, getting thrown into cars, and flown through the city all before being unceremoniously dumped on the street by a giant bird.

“I didn’t know if I should believe it.” The words are just above a whisper, as if she’s speaking to herself. She rubs the strands between her fingers.

“Could she have dyed it?” My blurred vision snaps back to the guy . . . Steel.