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.
As far as I could tell, everything with both her and the baby appeared fine. It seemed all the excitement had started her labor. Though I was certainly no pregnancy expert, she looked full term to me.
The wail of sirens filled the air, signaling the arrival of two police cars and an ambulance. This poor woman had such a death grip on my hand, there was no hope of me untangling myself from her until they had her packaged and ready to roll. By this time, Portia had been cleared and Milly was able to sign the refusal of treatment form for her.
A police officer came to ask her some additional questions about the accident.
"Are you sure you're doing okay, miss?" He stared at her concerned.
"I'm fine, really. Other than my heart racing a bit on the high side, I'm perfectly normal."
"Can you tell me what you remember?"
She sighed, glancing toward the street. "I'd come to the corner and was waiting for the light to change so I could cross the street. A black motorcycle came around the station wagon, and pulled in front of it so close that the driver had to jerk the wheel to avoid hitting the bike. It caused her car to swerve onto the sidewalk toward me. I jumped onto the base of the light pole, and then out of the way again before the car crashed into it."
I knew this was a total lie. She'd used levitation to avoid being hit.
"What happened with the motorcycle?" the officer asked.
Portia shrugged. "It didn't even slow down, just roared off down the street."
"Was a man or a woman on it?"
"Honestly, I didn't get a close enough look to tell you. All I saw was that they were completely dressed in black and wearing a helmet too."
"All right, thank you. Can I get a number and address for you in case we have any more questions for you?"
Portia quickly rattled off her information, and the officer released her into Milly's care. Together, they crossed the road to her shop, while I retrieved my bike and drove to park there.
"How'd you get out of school so fast?" Portia laughed, coming to me.
Grabbing her, I crushed her against me, feeling the tremors rushing through my system, then I kissed her hard—I didn't care who was watching, having never been so scared in my life. "I was so worried." Running my hands down her arms, across her stomach, then placing them on her head, I used my magic to check for anything that might have been missed.
She stilled my hands, pulling them away as she stared into my eyes. "I'm fine, Vance. Really. The car barely touched me. Technically, I touched it. I'm okay." An image of her racing toward the vehicle, then levitating in a roll over the top and dropping to the ground behind it in a crouch filled my mind. I thanked both our lucky stars that we'd practiced our magic together. It had saved her life—I was sure of it.
"Let's go inside," Milly said, and we followed her into the store, hand in hand.
"You didn't answer my question," Portia spoke again.
"Hmm? What question?" My mind was racing a million miles a minute.
"How'd you get here so fast?"
"I ran out of the school, hopped on my motorcycle and came straight here. I'm sure my teacher will be calling Marsha to give her an earful about it. I'll probably be getting a detention too, I imagine." I grinned, letting her know that didn't bother me one bit.
"You had to have known I was okay," she said, shaking her head.
Turning her to face me, I stared seriously at her. "When it comes to you, Portia, I don't take any chances." Glancing at Milly, I continued. "And I don't think this was an accident."
"What do you mean?" she asked, as a concerned look crossed her face.
"The motorcyclist. When he passed by Portia, I sensed something. He was gunning for her, trying to orchestrate an accident or something, and she was the target. It's why he fled the scene."
"Why would anyone want to hurt me?" Portia's shock at my words was clear.
Anger rose to replace my earlier concern. "I don't know. But I intend to find out."
"We need to call the coven together this evening," Milly said, heading toward the telephone.
"I think that would be wise," I agreed, following her. "Something strange is going on."
"Well, there goes our dinner and movie plan for tonight," Portia said with a small laugh, referring to plans the two of us had made with her parents that morning.
"Portia, we've got to figure out what's going on. Someone tried to kill you today, or at the very least, hurt you significantly. We need to know why."
"I know. I'm just trying to lighten the mood. Self-preservation, I guess."
Wrapping my arms tightly around her, I rested my chin on the top of her head. "Yeah, and I have to figure out how to live the rest of my life without ever letting you from my sight."
---
During the meeting and ritual with the coven, it was decided I would move into the spare bedroom at Portia's house indefinitely. Her parents wanted me to stay as extra protection—especially for those times that Sean might not be there to watch out for Stacey and Portia. Naturally, this didn't hurt my feelings one bit. The only thing that could've made me happier was permission to sleep with her, which technically I already was, but not in the context I wished. Stacey was preparing the guest room for me, even though she knew where I spent my nights. I guess it did look better that way.
Marsha arrived with several of my personal belongings, handing me a duffle bag she'd packed. "I didn't bring any of the stuff from your altar. I forgot."
"No worries. I can either get them later, or come there to use it if I need to. It's not like I'm never going to come home."
She smiled. "So, there was a large nasty message on the answering machine from the school."
"That doesn't surprise me. What did they say?"
"Basically that you'd left class without permission, despite attempts from the teacher to stop you."
The teacher had tried to stop me? For the life of me, I couldn't remember anything from that moment but my own terror.
"Don't worry about it. I'll call them tomorrow to let them know a family member of yours had been in an accident, and that I texted you to tell you about it."
"Thanks, Marsha. You're the best." I gave her a hug.
"Love you, kiddo. You two be careful, okay? Call me if you need any help with anything."
"Thank you," Portia said. "We appreciate it."
Portia helped me put my things away and then the two of us headed downstairs to eat dinner in the family room with Stacey. The Fettuccini Alfredo was delicious, and I helped myself to a couple of servings. We let ourselves relax for a while in front of the television, until Stacey left and we heard her cleaning.
"Come on. Let's go give your mom a hand," I said, nodding in the direction of the kitchen.
Portia smiled slyly. "Trying to get the brownie points already, are you?"
I laughed. "No, but if it'll help, then I say let's do it."
She stood and I followed her. If Stacey was surprised that we'd come to help she made no mention of it, but thanked us when we were finished.
We went upstairs together and I went to my new room to change into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. This was going to be much more comfortable than sleeping in jeans, something I'd been doing nearly every night for months now. Making my way back to Portia's room, I cuddled next to her from my safe place on top of the quilt.
"It's been a crazy day."
"Yes. I'm exhausted," she replied with a yawn.
"Well, get some sleep."
"I don't want to. I want to visit with you since I won't see you for most of the day tomorrow." She snuggled closer to me.
"You need your rest, baby." I stroked her hair. "I'll be here in the morning, then for lunch, and a couple hours after that I'll be home."
"I know. But it's hard for me when you're away. It still hurts."
"It's hard for me too," I replied, continuing to caress her. "But we'll make it through this. I promise." Placing my hand on her forehead, I muttered the words that would make her sleep peacefully.