Suddenly, I crashed back together, sucking in the second half of my interrupted breath in the stale air-conditioned chill of my dressing room. Awareness swam back slowly. I was lying on the scratchy carpet beside a much-worn couch, and it took me long moments to stagger back to my feet, using the arm of the sofa and the cosmetics table for purchase. I felt sick, twisted around and knotted up. That magic had been powerful, and it had not been at all gentle. There was rage at the bottom of it.
I was definitely very lucky. And I was definitely in a whole lot of trouble.
There was a pounding at the dressing room door that made me jump half out of my skin. As it was, I lost my balance, sinking back to my knees and folding my knuckles into the carpet to push down a wave of nausea. In the afte
