I came to, still on the padded floor, with four male faces showing varying degrees of concern hovering over me. Baruch crumpled the rubber blanket in one hand. Kane held a defibrillator limply. Rohan's left eyebrow was scorched.
It wasn't until I saw Drio, his hands burned from my magic, watching me like he'd missed some kind of manslaughter opportunity, that I was reassured I was okay. I struggled to sit up, Baruch assisting me.
I squinted at the electrodes placed around my sports bra, hooking me up to the bastard child of a fax and an answering machine. Ticker tape stuck out of one end of it. "What happened?"
I had to clear my throat a couple of times to get the words out.
"Not a heart attack," Ms. Clara said cheerfully. I scrunched up my face in confusion and she tapped the machine. "Portable ECG." She pulled the electrodes off of me.
"You're qualified to read it, how?"