Fire & Ice

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

It took me a day to convince Sean and Milly that my transformation had somehow been halted. I wasn't a raving lunatic, I calmly and patiently answering all their questions. It was obvious to everyone that Portia had healing powers, but no one knew exactly what that meant. Not one witch had ever been healed during a demon conversion before. It had been attempted, countless times throughout history, but failed every single time. My recovery was unprecedented and, because Portia was still unconscious, they weren't able to ask her any questions.

"Don't you even think about harming her," Sean threatened, seizing me by the arm when he released me from the chamber.

I placed my hand on his, gripping it. "Sean, if I live to be a thousand, I'll never be able to make up for what I put you through. I know that. But please know, regardless of what has transpired, I love your daughter more than ever. Her sacrifice to save me was a gift I will always cherish. My only desire is to see her recovered and healthy as well."

His eyes locked on mine, and I hoped he could see the sincerity of my words. Finally, he released me, following me as I made my way directly to Milly's guest bedroom where Portia lay oblivious to the world around her. I crawled onto the bed, wrapping my arms around her. It felt so good to hold her again.

Sean settled into the chair in the corner and pointed to the dresser. "We brought you a change of clothes and some shoes. The police delivered your motorcycle here when they were through checking it after the explosion."

"Great. Thanks," I replied, my heart heavy at the devastation that had taken place because of me. "How's Shelly doing?"

He sighed. "Other than being horrified at her part in all this, she's fine. Thankfully for her, she doesn't remember most of it. As soon as you killed your mom, she was released from the spell. Luckily for her, the magic used to cause the explosion won't be traceable back to her." He shrugged. "And even if it was, I don't think there would be many who would believe it."

"Good. I'm glad she's better. Hopefully she can repair things with Brad too."

"She's already been working on it, though I'm sure it will be difficult for her. Despite all that happened, it's not in her nature to cause problems. She's a very sweet girl, and I imagine this will haunt her for the rest of her life."

Again, I felt at fault, seeing another person's life damaged and altered by the evil that tainted mine. A moment of silence drifted between us as we ran out of things to say, neither of us wanting to talk about the elephant in the room.

"We need to finalize the plans for Marsha's funeral," he finally spoke, bringing up the subject I wished I could completely avoid.

Sorrow flooded through me, my eyes immediately misting over. Even though she'd been dead for days, I'd been totally unaware of her plight. Someone had ransacked our house and brutally murdered her. I had no doubt in my mind who was responsible, and it made me sick. She'd given her life trying to protect me.

"Spare no expense," I muttered. "I want her to have the best send off imaginable."

"We thought we were going to be having one for you as well," Sean said, staring at me.

"I thought you were too," I replied honestly, before glancing back to Portia's sleeping face and stroking her hair away from it. "You would've been if it hadn't been for her."

"While I'm happy you're doing better, I'm still upset with you about how things transpired." He frowned at me and I snorted.

"I'm upset with how things transpired. I feel terrible about it." I slid my hand down, grasping hers where it lay on the blanket between us and allowed my healing senses to filter through her, checking for damage. Her poor body was fatigued, exhausted.