Free February Thaw by Tanya Huff Page A

him, they'd be after her.
    Hands ten centimetres apart, Isabel fought to control her breathing.
    Find the sizzle. Find the sweet spot. Find where it works.
    Two strings of light stretched from palm to palm.
    Oh, that’s a lot of help.
    How did Fred do it? He never concentrated on anything this hard.
    Duh.
    Power snapped into place with an almost audible click. Half the shadows turned as a hundred strands of light formed between her palms.
    Too late.
    She smacked her hands together.
    It was still nothing more than a crude release of power, but this time she was doing it on purpose. With a purpose.
    "Fred!" Blinking away after images, she dropped to her knees by his side. "Are you okay?"
    After a short struggle, he focused on her face. "The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain."
    Isabel grinned. Suddenly, her dad's appallingly cliché interest in musical theatre was actually useful. "Could you possibly mean, by Jove, I think she's got it?"
    "Huzzah."
     
    *
     
    "We rule. We rock. At the risk of sounding like the end of every bad sports movie ever made, we are the champions and champions deserve ice cream. There's a pint of Cherry Garcia in the freezer." She flashed a smile at a still wobbly Fred and reached for the condo door. "Technically, it's dad's but he's not.... Dad!"
    "Isabel."
    Hurrying out of the living room behind her father were Mrs. Harris, a police officer, and two large men dressed like ambulance attendants. Isabel was suddenly very aware that behind her stood a skinny, grimy man who looked like he'd just been bounced across a park and who still had folded newspaper down his pants.
    Anger and worry showed about equally on her dad's face. No, wait, anger seemed to be winning.
    "I didn't want to believe what Mrs. Harris was telling me, Isabel, but when you weren't home last night and then I got the message from the school about you not being in class, and then you wander in... Do you even know what time it is?"
    "Uh, ten?"
    "Three."
    She checked her watch. Three. AM. In the morning.
    "Time flies when you’re having shadows."
    "Thanks, Fred. You might have told me that!"
    Fred shrugged. "Iceberg."
    Which was either an enigmatic Titanic reference, or he was gone again.
    "He's probably her dealer," Mrs. Harris snorted.
    Isabel ignored her, stepping between Fred and her father. "Dad, I know this looks bad, but Fred's my..." Quick, a word for what Fred was that her father would understand. "...friend. Okay, I cut school and I let him sleep on the terrace, but he needs me."
    "Needs you?"
    "Yes! And he's teaching me so much."
    Mrs. Harris pursed her lips. "I can't imagine what."
    "Try compassion," Isabel snapped. "And I'm sure you can't imagine it!"
    "Isabel..." Her dad sighed and began again. It looked as though worry had won the final round. "Izzy, your friend has run away from a facility in Scarborough. The police have been searching for him for weeks. They recognized him the moment Mrs. Harris gave them a description. These men are going to take him to the facility and see that he gets back on his medication."
    "Dad, he's not crazy."
    "All right, but look at him, he's skin and bones, if he stays on the street he'll die. I don't know why you've suddenly decided to adopt him – and believe me, we're going to talk about this – but he's a person, not a puppy or a kitten, and you can't know what's best for him." Grabbing hold of Isabel's shoulder, he moved them both to one side. Pressed up against him, she could feel the fear rolling off him like smoke.
    Afraid for her? Or of something?
    The ambulance attendants, advanced.
    "Fred! Do something!"
    He stared wide-eyed at the approaching attendants. "I can macramé a plant hanger."
    "Not helpful!" She had to do something. But what? All she knew how to do was make a bright light which was great at chasing shadows away, but these were flesh and blood men. Big men. Big scary men. Even if she temporarily blinded them, Fred would probably just stand there blinking.
    But