But, no. Just Robyn.
"I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to. Your projections of him were so strong, and I'm still getting control of my powers."
Oh my God. Robyn had turned into Drake for a split second. She was a shapeshifter and chameleon, but new to the para-power game.
The urge to ask her to turn into Drake again all but overpowered me. But it wouldn't really be him, and it would only tear apart my heart even more. I had to move on and accept my life as a single mother, and not cling to the illusion of what could have been.
"It's okay, Robyn. I understand. How are things going with your studies and para-powers?" Maybe talking about someone else would take my mind off of my own problems.
She smiled. "Thanks for understanding. They're going well. I'm obviously still learning to control it, but I'm able to shift more easily."
Our new school had settled into a routine fairly quickly. We all needed something that felt normal, and classes and assignments seemed to help. Still, the loss of many students and teachers—those who had died during the rebellion and escape—lingered over our days like a fine mist, settling on us all from time to time.
At least Robyn seemed happy with her new boyfriend, Norm. Being around them, or around Greg and Gary—or pretty much any couple—made me crumble. But I didn't begrudge them their joy, glad that someone had it.
My contractions increased in duration and frequency, and all talking ceased. I could only focus on my body and the birth. When the cycle of pain drove me to tears over and over, Susie joined us in the room, called for support, and prepped me for full-on labor.
"Haven't I been in labor the whole time?" It sure as hell felt like it.
Her cool hand rested on my forehead for a moment. "Yes, but now we're at the end. The baby's ready. This is when we get serious."
If what I'd been feeling wasn't serious, I didn't want to know what serious was.
Another contraction burned in me and ripped away all thoughts. The pain gripped me and rode me hard. How did women ever do this more than once?
I linked minds with my baby. She didn't have words, but I sensed her nonetheless. "Ana, baby, it's not time yet. Please, wait a little longer."
Ana didn't listen. She pushed her way through my body as if she were clawing her way out.
Oh my God, what if she really does have claws? The thought made me nauseous, but surely Susie would have caught that in the ultrasound. It struck me as ironic that the evil nurse from the Rent-A-Kid clinic that had imprisoned me shared a name with the amazing woman who helped me now.
"Susie, this hurts so bad! I can't push again. I just can't."
"You have to, Sam. We have to get her out. Just breathe and... push!"
I pushed through the contraction, struggling to breathe.
Then another consciousness settled into me. I felt him there.
"Drake."
Chapter 71 – Drake
When consciousness finally came, it took its time and wrapped Drake in a gauzy, white cocoon. Pain moved in next, slowly, bringing an awareness of each part of his beaten body. Nothing made sense. Images and memories and thoughts jumbled together in his mind.
Where am I? What happened?
He cracked his eyes open and found another set of eyes staring at him—brown eyes in a small, swollen face. The boy. He'd tried to save the boy, and had gotten his ass kicked.
So much for being a superhero.
The boy scooted back when he saw Drake's eyes flutter open. "Are you crazy, mister? They could'a killed you."
For some reason, Drake found that funny, but when he tried to laugh, sharp spikes pierced his lungs. All humor vanished. "They looked like they were killing you. What did you take from them?"
The kid's eyes jerked back and forth like a hunted animal. "I didn't take nothing, yo. I swear it."
Each breath, each word, felt like it was stealing another moment of life, but Drake had to know about the drug. "Well, they sure think you did. Look, kid, I'm not going to hurt you. Do you think I'd get myself nearly killed just to pick up where they left off?"
The boy tugged on his torn, dirty shirt. "Guess not."
"Okay, then. So we agree. I'm not going to hurt you. Why don't you try telling me the truth?" Years of living with the knowledge that people would do whatever he wanted had given Drake a certain confidence. Even if the loss of his powers had shaken that confidence, his charisma still encouraged people to answer him. "If you're in some kind of trouble, I might be able to help you. But you have to trust me."
The boy's eyes swelled with tears as he moved closer. "It's my mom. She's, like, real sick. And I heard this drug might give her, or me, some extra... I don't know... powers. Maybe it would help her. I didn't know what else to do."
Could it be? "Do you have the drugs with you?"