CarnalHealing (3 page)

“You’re big,” she said, and she could hear an unfamiliar
purring quality to her voice. While size didn’t matter if her only purpose was
to renew her power, she always hoped the men she chose would have big cocks,
but was usually disappointed. Not this time.

“I’m glad milady is pleased.” His tone was probably meant to
be sardonic, but was ruined by the catching of his breath when she squeezed her
prize.

“Put it in me,” she commanded, and pushed herself forward,
but was hindered by the hand he still had partially inside her, two fingers
inserted now, another rubbing against her clit.
How does he do that?

Although they were now completely out of the wedge of light,
a flicker at the front of the alley caused her to glance that way and realize a
pedestrian had passed by on the sidewalk. Someone could come upon them at any
moment—it wasn’t that late and this neighborhood had plenty of residences mixed
in with the businesses. Her sense of urgency increased and she pushed forward
again, simultaneously pulling his throbbing cock toward her.

“Put it in me,” she repeated.

“Wait, let me get a condom,” he said, withdrawing his hand.

Shit. He’s either worried about getting me pregnant, or
me giving him a venereal disease.
Neither outcome was possible, but Leonore
could hardly explain that right now.

“I’m on birth control,” she said instead. “And I’ve been
tested. Recently.”

“But you might—”

“Just do it,” she said, surprised at the pleading tone in
her voice. “Now!”

“Whatever you say,” he breathed, and she felt the first
delicious moments of pressure as the head of his cock began to push into the
tight, wet opening between her thighs. She wrapped her legs around him, using
her calves to pull his ass against her as the long shaft of his dick slid
farther and farther into her cunt.

“Fuck me,” she said. “Hurry!”

“Jesus,” he said, but he followed directions, and started
pumping his enormous cock into her, his hands on her ass, pulling her in to
punctuate each thrust.

As her pleasure mounted, Leonore felt the coiling magic in
her stir, rise and engulf her. “Ah,
yes
!” She threw back her head,
loving the familiar sensation of her sexual passion and her magic combining and
intertwining, each one heightening the enjoyment of the other. She removed her
arms from where they had wound around her lover’s back and raised them in the
air, and felt them wave and coil in a rhythmic dance. She tilted her head back
and watched to see the barely discernable glow as threads of magic began to
emanate from her fingertips. “Yes! More! Harder!
Faster!
”

He groaned as if such efforts were impossible, but his pace
quickened and it felt as if his huge member was touching the very back of her
core. The beginning of her orgasm started to thrum along her nerves and the
magic found it—stroked it—enhanced it—enraged it. She wanted more sensation—
more
!

“Put…your…fingers…in…my…
ass
!” she managed to say
between gritted teeth, and he complied.

The moment she felt his thick forefinger slide into her
anus, coupling with the enormous pressure of his sex and the teasing, pushing
sensation of her magic, her orgasm exploded, full force and ragged. She just
had time to see the tendrils coming from her fingertips flash into vividly
colored rainbows before she squeezed her eyes shut against the intensity of her
coming.

“Ay-eeee!” She shrieked before she could catch herself. She
had momentarily forgotten where she was and that anyone could come upon them at
any moment. She opened her eyes and saw that the light show above her was
dimming, which was good. Her body shuddered and bucked, and still her lover had
not slowed his tempo.

She squeezed with every interior muscle she could command,
her strength boosted by the magic that now thrummed in her as if she was a
giant beehive. She knew some of it was leaking over into this man—this
incredible male specimen—and she couldn’t stop it, even though she usually had
no problem preventing the power from escaping into her lovers. What must he be
feeling? Did he even know?

Finally his rhythm stuttered and then stopped, and he gave a
great heaving thrust, growling deeply but not crying aloud. The finger was
pulled abruptly from her anus as he used both hands to crush her ass against
his exploding orgasm. She felt the hot fluid shoot into her—it felt warmer than
her already raging body. Every muscle in his back seemed to tense and spasm and
then he relaxed against her.

“Jesus,” he said again. “Holy…” He stopped, panting, and
looked at her. She could not make out his blue eyes in the darkness but thought
she could see a little light reflected against the shine or his corneas and the
sweat on his forehead. “That was…I don’t think I ever came that hard before.”

No, you probably didn’t
, thought Leonore. She was a
little annoyed with herself for having shared her magic during sex. She had
never—
never
—done that before. Some of her Leonorean sisters did so
occasionally, and had described the feeling, but she herself didn’t think it
was right to waste her magic in this fashion.

But it didn’t feel as if I was wasting it.

Voices at the opening of the alley and the sound of laughter
as a group of people walked by reminded Leonore that she was sitting in public
with her skirt hiked up to her waist, her naked pussy exposed to the night. She
pushed against her lover’s chest. “Come on, we need to get out of here before
someone sees us.”

“
Now
you’re worried about someone seeing us?” To his
credit, his voice sounded steady, not out of breath.

“We’ve been lucky so far. Let’s not push it.” As he backed
off, she jumped off the car, smoothing the folds of her silk skirt as it fell
back around her calves. She reached up to her face, wondering if her makeup was
smeared everywhere. Her lips felt swollen.

As if reading her thoughts, the man, already finished buttoning
his fly, again bent forward to kiss her. She dodged him.

“I told you—you don’t have to kiss me.”

His deep chuckle resonated in the alley. “And I told
you
that I did.” Again, he took her face in his hand and turned it so that he could
kiss her. But this time she kept her lips shut and, after a moment of
exploration, his kiss turned chaste and he released her.

The silence felt awkward. “Thank you,” she said finally. “I
needed that.”

He laughed quietly. “Yeah, it seemed like you did.”

Leonore sensed that he was about to reach for her again and
took a step backward. “I’m going to go now. You might want to wait a few
seconds before you follow me.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because we’ll look…” Leonore stopped. She was about to say
they’d look suspicious, but who cared? She really just wanted a head start so
he couldn’t follow her to the car.

“Go ahead then,” he said, and something in his tone said he
was humoring her but Leonore didn’t care. She turned and fled.

“Good night,” she said as she quickly turned the corner on
the sidewalk and resisted the urge to bolt for her car.

She didn’t look back. But she was surprised how difficult it
was not to do so.

Chapter Three

Leonore had awakened before dawn, still tingling with the
fresh charge of her magic’s renewal. By ten, she had already finished the edits
to her latest magazine article and sent it off to the editor, and was settling
in with a second cup of coffee to research some websites that Lily, a sister
from Rhode Island, had sent her. Lily had a theory that some Leonoreans had
reached the Orient, and that certain famous female members of Chinese dynasties
may have in fact been descendents of the original Leonore and her husband, Geoffrey
Caernathen.

It was a fascinating premise, and Leonore had been looking
forward to exploring the theory, but she was having a hard time concentrating.
Her mind kept wandering back to the night before and her lover’s blue eyes. She
kept imagining his scent on her, although she had showered as soon as she’d
gotten home and again this morning. And she kept remembering the twin throbs of
his cock and her magic climaxing together…

After reading a paragraph for the third time and coming no
closer to grasping its meaning, she put down her now-tepid coffee and stood up.
Picking up her purse and her car keys, she headed for the door. She knew where
she was going before she even let the thought form.

She was heading for the hospital.

It’s not out of guilt
, she told herself. It was
always said among her sisters that Leonoreans were under no obligation to go
out looking for ways to use their powers for good—they could wait until the
opportunities inevitably arose.

But it was easy to think that way if your powers were like
those of her sisters—precognition, moving objects, sensing emotions and the like.
It was different for Leonore.

Because she had the power to heal. And there were so very
many people who were in need of a miracle—the kind of miracle Leonore could
give them.

“But it takes so much out of you,” Ludmilla had argued the
last time they had discussed it. “Even if you fucked ten guys a day, you could
never even heal all the people in one section of one hospital.”

“If she fucked ten guys a day, she wouldn’t be able to
walk
into
the hospital,” Letisha had responded. “Never mind heal anyone once she
got in there.”

“But I feel like I should be doing
something
,”
Leonore had responded. “It’s not fair to keep it all to myself.”

“You’re not,” Tish had argued. “You saved Mrs. Blodgett,
when her body was trying to reject her liver transplant. She never even knew
how close she came to dying.” Mame Blodgett owned a local diner where Leonore
liked to have breakfast. She had been on the waiting list for a long time
before she got her new liver, and had been doing well for the first few weeks
after the operation. Then, a few days after her doctor had given her the
go-ahead to return to work, she had shown up at the counter to pour Leonore’s
coffee, pale and shaky. As soon as Leonore had touched her hand she had felt
what was going on. After finishing her breakfast, she had suggested Mame take a
break and enjoy the beautiful spring day by resting for a few moments on the
park bench outside.

When the older woman had sunk gratefully on the seat beside
her, Leonore had slipped an arm around her, and asked Mame to tell her how her
many grandchildren were doing. As the woman droned on about the mundane doings
of little Tiffany and Bobby and whomever else—Leonore had never really tried to
keep them all straight—she had let her power rise and slip into Mame’s body. She
had searched out the cells that were trying to force the new and foreign organ
from its new home and calmed each one. She had strengthened the tenuous,
budding connections between the old and the new tissues and calmed the
inflammation and killed anything that felt like infection.

By the end of the conversation, color was returning to
Mame’s cheeks and her story had become more animated. Leonore was tired and had
to go home and take a nap. Exhausted as she was, she’d had no choice but to go
out to the bars that night and find a not-too-sober fraternity boy who’d been
more than happy to fuck her in the back seat of his car.

But I hadn’t just renewed myself that time,
Leonore
reminded herself as she pulled into the parking garage at Mass General Hospital
for Children, and found a space near the elevators closest to the oncology
department.

* * * * *

“What’s the matter, Jeff? Hung over?

“What?” Jeff Carson looked up from the desk he shared with
several other residents to see Mike’s smirking face. “No, no hangover. I feel
fine.”

It was true, he reflected. He really should have had a
hangover, considering how much he’d had to drink the night before. And how
little sleep he’d had. But instead, he felt terrific. Not only did he feel wide
awake and full of energy, but the soreness in the knee he’d twisted playing
basketball a week ago seemed to have finally healed.

“Rough night?” Mike had been at Jake’s sports bar last
night, but had been busy playing pool. Jeff didn’t think his friend had seen
him leave with that crazy redhead.

“Not particularly.” Jeff tried to keep his voice neutral.

“I saw you drinking a martini. After all that scotch, I
figured you’d be shit-faced.”

I should have been. But as soon as I touched that woman’s
arm, my head cleared.

“I’m fine, Mike. I’m just thinking about what I’m going to
say to the Thomases this morning.”

It wasn’t true. He should have been planning the
conversation, going over the points he needed to make. But he’d been thinking
about her. That woman. The one who hadn’t told him her name.

She’s just some horny woman, out to get laid, like she
said.
What other kind of woman would demand sex in an alley with a man
she’d met less than a half hour before? She wouldn’t even come to his
apartment, for chrissake. If he could have gotten her home, he could have
really showed her a thing or two. The sex hadn’t lasted more than ten minutes.
And that weird thing about not wanting to be kissed…

“Earth to Jeff. Hello! You have a consultation to go to,
buddy.”

Jeff sighed and got to his feet, straightening the lab coat
he wore over hospital scrubs. He wasn’t looking forward to this meeting, but it
had to be done.

* * * * *

Leonore, clad in a jacket that looked vaguely medical, with
an ID badge that, although it would not bear close inspection, was similar to
those given out to social workers and other professional visitors to the
hospital, walked down the hall as if she belonged there. Although there was
more security than at a hospital that catered to adults, Leonore had learned
that looking semiofficial and carrying a clipboard rather than a handbag would
make her as invisible as a five-foot-eleven redhead could be. Additionally, she
had learned to cast glamours, and that they could as easily be designed to make
a witch
less
imposing as the opposite. She usually didn’t have to resort
to this extreme, but it had come in handy a time or two.

Now to find the right child. She purposely had timed her
visit to coincide with visiting hours, but she didn’t want a parent to walk in
during a healing. With a touch of glamour, she could usually convince a doctor
or nurse she had a legitimate reason to be there, but parents of gravely ill
children tended to be somewhat…intense.

A couple stepped out of a room a few feet in front of her,
and the man spoke back through the doorway. “We need to go now, baby. We’re
going to meet with your doctor. We’ll be back in just a little while, okay?”
Leonore couldn’t hear a response from the room, but there must have been one,
because the two people, presumably the child’s parents, turned and passed her
in the opposite direction, their faces solemn.

Perfect. Both the parents and the doctor will be away for
a few minutes. It’s all I need.
With a glance back to make sure the pair
turned the corner, Leonore slipped into the room and closed the door behind
her.

The child in the bed was very still, but her eyes were open.
She was almost as white as the sheet pulled up to her chest, the only color
provided by a pink cap, gaily festooned with white flowers, that hid what
Leonore knew must be a bald head.

“Hello,” said the child. “Are you a new nurse?” Her voice
was quiet, but had an oddly cheerful lilt, and Leonore felt her heart squeeze.
The brave ones always got to her.

“Something like that.” Leonore moved to the side of the bed
and held out her hand. “I’m Leonore. What’s your name?”

“Lucy.” A tiny hand was raised and Leonore took it. It felt
as insubstantial as a butterfly’s wing, but it squeezed in a momentary grip.
Someone had taught this girl to shake hands.

“That’s a pretty name. Do you know what it means?

The eyes, which Leonore now saw were hazel, got very wide.
“No. I didn’t know it meant anything. It’s just my name.”

“It means ‘light’,” said Leonore. “Isn’t that a nice thing
to be named after?”

“Yes.” The girl smiled, and again Leonore felt that squeeze
in her chest. “What does your name mean?”

“Well, my name has ‘light’ in it too. It means ‘the Goddess
is my light’.”

Lucy’s mouth formed an “o”. “Wow. That’s a wonderful name.”

“Do you mind if I sit with you for a few minutes?” At Lucy’s
nod, Leonore sat on the side of the bed. “Can I feel your heartbeat?” Again, a
nod, and Leonore settled her hand on the small chest. It seemed barely wider
than the span from her wrist to her fingers.

“You don’t use a stethoscope like the other nurses?” The
word was carefully pronounced. Leonore imagined this child, who was no more
than six, knew a lot of medical terms.

“I like to feel how strong it is with my hand. Here, you can
feel mine if you want.” Leonore leaned forward and guided the small hand to the
spot just above her own breastbone where the pulse beat against the thin skin
of her throat. “That’s right. Now, close your eyes and count the beats. Can you
count to a hundred?”

“Yes. One…two…”

As the tiny voice droned, Leonore closed her own eyes and
tuned out the sound. She reached for her magic, which leapt easily in response
after so recent a renewal. She harnessed all her senses—touch, smell, taste,
hearing—and searched for the cancer.

After so many secret visits to oncology wards, she knew what
she was looking for. The cancer cells had a certain texture and feel. When she
found them, a bitter taste filled her throat and heaviness, like a sudden drop
in barometric pressure, made her ears pop. Then, one by one, she started to
destroy them.

Other foreign things swirled in the child—the poisonous
medicines of chemotherapy, which attacked the same cells that Leonore targeted.
She demolished these as well—once her work was done, the child would have no
need for them. She could also feel what she had come to think of as
soldiers—the defenses of the girl’s own immune system, and she carefully moved
these aside so as not to damage them.

She sensed something else as well—something that seemed to
be working with and propping up the weakened soldiers. Some medicine or
treatment the child was receiving? She avoided harming this element, as it felt
wholesome and good.

“Forty-two…forty-three…”

The counting droned on, and Lenore found more of the cancer
around every turn. The little body was riddled with it. The magic danced and
parried like a wielded sword, stinging and piercing the diseased cells.
Pop
,
pop
,
pop
, they exploded and swirled away, pulled out of the child
by tendrils of magic.

“Seventy-four…seventy-f-five…” The voice was starting to
sound sleepy, and Leonore knew Lucy would fall asleep before she reached one
hundred. The little hand had slipped and no longer really rested against where
the pulse throbbed.

Leonore’s magic found the last vestiges of the cancer,
eviscerating it without mercy.

“Eighty-three…” The voice trailed off and then stopped
completely, and the hand fell back to the sheet. Lenore removed her own hand
from Lucy’s chest and stepped back. The girl was sound asleep.

She felt lightheaded. There had been so much cancer! But it
had felt wonderful to destroy it. She took a few deep breaths and assessed her
own strength. Not bad. It was a good thing she’d had such a powerful lover last
night.

Leonore looked down and arranged the collar of her jacket so
that it mostly obscured the phony identification badge and stepped back to the
door. Opening it, she peeked out into the hall to make sure there was no sign
of returning parents. It had only been a few minutes, but something might have
happened to delay or postpone their meeting. All clear.

She took one look back at the sleeping child and noticed
with satisfaction that her ivory cheeks were already looking a little pinker.
Picking up the clipboard she had left on a bedside chair, Leonore stepped into
the hall and walked briskly in the direction of the elevators. As she rounded
the corner near the nurses’ station, she almost skidded to a halt.

There, talking to the man and woman who had come out of
Lucy’s room, stood…
him
. Her lover from the night before. Clad in scrubs
and a white lab coat and wearing a stethoscope, he spoke earnestly to the
couple she had seen coming out of the room when she first arrived.

Oh my god, he’s Lucy’s doctor!

And he was standing between her and the elevator.

Abruptly, she made a U-turn and went back around the corner,
feeling the heat rise into her face.
I can’t let him see me here.
Leonore especially did not want him to see her in the quasi lab coat with the
fake ID badge. She could say she was visiting a patient, but not in her
disguise, which would lead him to believe she had some connection to the
hospital.

Frantically, Leonore searched for a stairway. There it was,
at the end of the hall. She picked up her pace, terrified he and the parents
would be rounding the corner to visit Lucy’s room. As she got closer to the
door, a sinking sensation gripped her stomach as she made out the
sign—Emergency Exit Only. Alarm Will Sound.
Shit!