Fire & Ice

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

One minute we were talking fine, next the loud engine of a passing motorcycle close by halted the conversation. An odd energy hit me. Fear shot through me like a bullet, but not my own at first, though it quickly followed. Bolting from my seat, I ran from the classroom, racing down the hall that led toward the parking lot.

The car's going to hit me! The thought was Portia's not mine, and I could feel her standing paralyzed, flashes of the motorcycle cutting off a station wagon, sending it careening in her direction.

"Run, Portia!" My panicked voice screamed at her, not only through the link but out loud as well. Thrusting an image of us levitating together out on the football field, I felt her powers surge as I burst through the doors on a full sprint to my bike. The key was in my hand by the time I hopped on, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins made it difficult to slip it into the ignition.

The sound of crunching metal filled my head, causing a sickening feeling to rush through my system. I struggled to keep it together.

Finally I managed to get it started, shaking as I gunned the engine out of the parking lot. Turning onto the highway, I paid no attention to speed laws, knowing that all the officers in a town this small would most likely be responding to the accident. Weaving in and out of traffic, I zipped precariously close in between vehicles with no thought to my own safety; my only goal was to reach Portia.

Fear and tremors continued to pulsate through me, both hers and my own, but that was comforting to me. It told me she was alive.

"Are you all right?" an unfamiliar voice screeched through our connection.

"I'm fine," Portia's voice filled my head and I breathed a sigh of relief—it was honestly the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard in my life.

"I'm so sorry!" the woman's voice spoke again.

"It wasn't your fault. It was the motorcycle," Portia continued on, and I wished I knew exactly what was happening. "You should go back and sit in your car. I'll be okay."

"Somebody call 911," a man's voice ordered.

"Ouch!" the woman's distressed voice hollered. I wanted to ask Portia what was happening and to send me more images, but remained focused on my driving instead as I continued to race toward her.

"I'm fine! Help her!" Portia yelled to someone unseen. Something was wrong—I could feel the panic inside her.

"Don't move," the man's voice came again, sounding closer this time. "You could have injuries we can't see. Wait for the paramedics to check you out."

Arriving before any of the emergency crews did, I parked my motorcycle in the middle of the road and jumped off, running to where I could see Portia surround by a group of people. Relief poured through me that she appeared unharmed, but I had to touch her to be sure, moving my hands down her arms.

"I'm fine!" she said again, sounding irritated as she pushed me away. "Go check the other lady! I think she's in labor."

Staring into her eyes, I didn't even try to mask my fear. I wanted to make sure she was okay first, but I could see she was insistent, so I did as she asked.

Milly was already with the woman, coaching her along with some breathing techniques and trying to calm her down. Reaching to hold her hand, I assessed her condition while she squeezed it during an obviously painful contraction.