"Ow! Stop, that hurts!" The guy on the ground was howling, his hand still pinned under Miles's shoe.

Miles, cool as a cucumber, just pressed harder, eyes locked on me. "You good?"

I looked at my busted phone and shrugged. "I'm fine. Phone's toast though."

Miles glanced at the wreckage.

"Mr. Mercer... Mr. Mercer..." Nathan, who'd been hovering nearby, came stumbling over. He reached toward Miles but pulled back, clearly too scared to ...