get him to bed."

"Right." Brian caught up with Emma outside. The snow had stopped, and

the moon had come out to shine blue light. Automatically he clamped his

coat together to shut out the keen wind. "Emma." He laid a hand on her

shoulder. It was enough to stop her, but she didn't turn. "I don't

blame you for being upset. I know it's a shock to see something like

that, to know that someone you care about is into that sort of thing."

"Yes." She took a deep breath before she turned to face him. Her eyes

were very clear. "Yes, it is."

"I don't use needles, Emma. I never have."

There was a quick wave of relief, but she shook it away. "And

everything else is all right?"

He dragged a frustrated hand through his hair. "I'm not saying it's

right or wrong. I'm just saying it's reality."

"Not my kind of reality."

"I know, and I'm glad of it." He cupped her face in his hand. "Emma, if

I could, I'd shield you from everything that hurts or upsets you."

"I don't want to be shielded. I don't need to be." They both turned as

P.M. and Johnno carried Stevie out to a waiting car. "Is that the kind

of life you want? Is that what you've worked for, what you've dreamed

of?"

She made him ashamed by asking. Made him furious because he wasn't sure

of the answer. "I can't explain it, Emma. But I know you don't get

everything you want, and you sure as h.e.l.l don't get everything you dream

of"

She turned away again, but didn't leave. Gently he pressed a kiss to

her hair. They didn't speak as they walked to the car. Like a shadow,

Sweeney fell in behind them.

LIViNG NEAR HOLLYWOOD all his life hadn't spoiled the fantasy and

glamour for Michael. He appreciated star-watching as much as the next

guy. Nor did he mind spending a few days in February working crowd

control and security for the filming of Devastated. It had been a

disappointment that Angie Parks hadn't been involved in the early

location shots. Still he enjoyed watching the twin girls who were

playing Emma.

Casting had done a remarkable job of finding a pair of kids who

resembled Emma. Of course, Emma had been prettier, he thought. Was

prettier. Her eyes were bluer, bigger. And her mouth ... It

didn't do him a h.e.l.l of a lot of good to think about her mouth.

It was a better idea to concentrate on his job-which was not, as some of

the vets had sneeringly called it, pansy duty. Fans turned out day

after day. The hard-core Devastation fans weren't pleased with Jane

Palmer's book, or the fact that it was to be a movie. Some carried

banners or placards, others just booed. There were a few, wearing

leather and sporting mohawks and dog collars, who looked as thought they

would have enjoyed knocking heads with the cops.

Added to them were clutches of young girls who shrieked and giggled

every time Matt Holden came in view. The young actor who played Brian

McAvoy was the current teen dream. Michael had had his ankle kicked,

his shoulder bruised, and his uniform wept on by adoring fans.