Would you be interested in a more permanent position here, Mr. Wainwright?"

Ethan blinked. "You mean, you're offering me a job?"

"How would you like to be our corporate attorney?"

"I'd be honored. I'd have to rearrange some things at my practice, but I've got a partner who'd be up to moving into a more substantial role. I'm not sure I could come over on a full-time basis, but perhaps we could work out a retainer?"

"Whatever you think is best, but I would like to be able to call upon your expertise whenever it's needed."

"I'd like that, too. After this, the usual software cases are going to be boring."

The healer finished with Owen, who came over to join us. He carried his left arm in a sling and he still looked pale. The blood on his shirt didn't make him look any better.

"Apparently, I'll live," he said dryly. "I suppose I need to worry about what we should do next."

"I've asked Mr. Wainwright to serve as our corporate counsel on a more permanent basis," Merlin said.

Owen nodded. "Good idea."

"And I'd like to form a task force to address this issue." It sounded like a certain ancient wizard had been reading contemporary business books. If he brought up quality teams, I was going to run screaming. "I can begin working with the greater magical community to build a coalition. Meanwhile, we need to find other avenues of fighting this battle. Mr. Wainwright will provide the legal angle, Miss Chandler will lend her marketing and communications expertise, and Mr. Palmer will focus on the magical aspects."

His voice grew firm. "We will not—we can not—let the likes of these destroy the foundations of a way of life I built more than a millennium ago. I would rather there be no magic left in the world than to let people like that subvert it. I hope it doesn't come to that. We won't let it come to that."

I felt properly inspired, and a little scared at the same time. There was something to be said for blissful ignorance. But would I have been happier with no idea about what threatened my world? At least this way I stood a chance of doing something about it. There weren't too many problems in the world where I could make a meaningful impact.

"But we'll start work on that Monday morning," Merlin said. "For now, all of us need to rest. Thank you all for your efforts this mom-ing."

Ethan headed out first, then Merlin told me to make sure Owen got home safely. I decided this was no time for frugality and had Sam hail us a cab. Neither of us spoke as we sat together in the backseat. Owen looked beyond exhausted, but the healer had said he would mend quickly. He just needed rest.

The cab pulled to a stop on Owen's street, in front of a row of elegant town homes.

Owen tried to insist that I stay in the cab and have it take me straight home, but I shook my head. "No, I'll walk from here. Besides, with the one-way streets, it's quicker to walk than drive."

We watched the taxi drive away, then stood there for a moment. "It's been quite a day, hasn't it?" he said after a while.

"That's an understatement. You were incredible there. I had no idea what you could do. I'm still not sure I have that good a handle on what magic really is."

He turned pink, which I took as a good sign, as it meant his color was coming back.

"You weren't so bad yourself."

"Just a lucky throw," I said with a shrug, even as I felt my own cheeks grow warm.

There was an awkward silence, and I wondered if I should say good-bye, or if there was something else that needed to be said between us. In books and movies this was always the part where the battered, wounded hero expressed his true feelings for the heroine. But in real life I imagined that when a man was as battered, wounded, and exhausted as Owen was right now, all he really wanted to do was go to bed—alone.

That meant saying good-bye was my best course of action. "I'll see you Monday.

You take it easy, okay?" I said, turning to leave.

I'd barely taken a step before he said, "Katie?"

My heart throbbing painfully in my chest—now I really knew what they meant by heartthrob—I turned back around.

He looked me straight in the eye, something he so seldom did. "Thank you. I owe you my life."

I wondered if there was something in the magical community where he was now obligated to me or required to grant wishes. I wanted to make a flippant remark to that effect, but he was so serious. He was also pretty heavily drugged, come to think of it. It wouldn't be fair to ask him to follow sarcasm. "You're welcome," was all I said. That was probably the extent of the confession of true feelings I'd hoped for.