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She started to walk. Chase shortened his stride and
     fell in beside her, hands in his jacket’s pockets. Fire had singed his shock of red
     hair, and he’d been forced to cut it—but even short, it was the first thing anyone
     noticed.
    “You really do,” he replied. “Look—things are going to get crazy.”
    She didn’t miss a step. “When?”
    “Does it matter? You’re not cut out for this shit. You, Michael, the rest of your
     friends—you’ve never lived in a war zone.”
    She had a pretty good idea of where this conversation was going: straight downhill.
     Allison didn’t like confrontation. She didn’t like to argue. Usually, there wasn’t
     a lot to argue about. “None of us are cut out for this.”
    “Eric and I are.”
    Allison nodded agreement and stared at the sidewalk. She was three blocks away from
     home.
    “Emma’s part of this.”
    She shoved her hands into her pockets, which weren’t really built for it, and lowered
     her chin. Chase had saved her life. She had to remember that Chase had saved her life.
     He’d almost died doing it. What had she done? Nothing. Nothing useful. “Emma didn’t
     choose to be part of it.”
    “Choice doesn’t matter. She has none.”
    Allison started to walk more quickly, not that there was any chance of leaving Chase
     behind if he was determined. He was.
    “But you do. You’ve got the choice that I didn’t have.”
    She stopped walking, her hands sliding out of her pockets to her hips. “And I am
making
a choice.”
    It was clear, from his expression, that he thought it was the wrong choice. “You think
     you can just duck your collective heads and the bullets will miss.”
    “No, I don’t. But I know Emma.”
    “Really? I haven’t noticed she’s spending a lot of time with you recently.”
    That stung. “I’m her friend, not her cage.”
    “You don’t understand how Necromancers work. You don’t understand what they
become
.”
    “I understand Emma. Emma is
not
going to become a monster just because you’re afraid of her!” Straight downhill.
     Like an avalanche.
    “Why don’t you ask her what she’s been doing the past couple of days?”
    “Because I trust her. If she wants to tell me, she’ll tell me.”
    “And will she tell Michael?”
    She could see him switching lanes. She let him do it, too; she was angry.
    “If you’re capable of making the decision to put your life on the line, is he? Are
     you willing to let him make the same choice?”
    “Michael. Is. Not. A. Child.”
    “That’s why he needs an entire clique of babysitters?”
    “If Michael hadn’t been at Amy’s party, Emma would already be lost. In case you’ve
     forgotten, Merrick Longland had us
all
ensnared. None of your party tricks saved either you or Eric!”
    “. . . Party tricks?”
    “Training. Whatever. Michael wasn’t affected by Longland—but
you
were. And Michael knows it. We all know it. I get that you don’t understand how we
     work—but if you try to break it, I’ll—”
    He folded his arms across his chest and stared pointedly down at her. “Yes? We’re
     finally getting to the good part. You’ll what? Scream at me? Cry?”
    She wanted to punch him. Sadly, she’d never punched anyone in her life; if she’d thought
     she had any chance of landing one, she might have tried.
    Chase saved your life
.
He almost died saving your life
. “Probably both.”
    He looked down at the top of her head, and then he laughed. It was almost rueful.
     “You understand that I don’t want to see you hurt, right?”
    She did. But she also understood that there were all kinds of hurt in life, and he
     didn’t count the one that she was most afraid of: losing her best friend. “I have
     to go. My mom’s staring out the window.”
    “And she’s not going to be happy that her daughter’s shouting at a stranger?”
    “No.” She took three deep breaths, because deep breaths always helped. Chase made
     her so angry. She’d never met anyone