With a cat well watered and purring loudly we left the building – the cat deciding it was going whereever we were – I led the way back to the car.

Half-way there, a loud roaring and screeching burned up the street. Two bikes, killer bikes, were going full throttle. Way too fast to stop at the red light.

The Daihatsabusa was lucky, just managing to skid past the car coming from the right. The second bike wasn’t so lucky, ploughing midcenter into its side, the rider crushed into the car like a sack of beans.

We arrived by the injured girl just as her friend pulled up, returning from his mad race.

“Is she…?” the biker asked.

I touched the injured girl’s neck, she had a pulse, barely. But her body was so broken I knew she wouldn’t last the night.

“Les, I need you,” I said.

Les nodded, placed his hand on my shoulder, and the familiar surge of power flowed through me and into the kid.

Yet it didn’t stop there. Once her body was healed, the power flowed out, covering the two killer bikes