He knelt and reached for his fallen friend, and if the bad guy had done the usual and stood up and run through the door, we'd have had clean shots at him. Now! His voice came strangely muffled. The second thing that happened was my own special little power went, wow. His shorts had been shredded.
I realized it was close to that static emptiness where I went when I had to kill, but it wasn't staticky. I just caught myself with his arm and chest, but the sight of me touching him like that sent more money onto the stage, and raised the frenzy of the women grouped around the stage. That was the thought that came, not in words, but in confused images. I thought, Jean-Claude.
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