Healer (The Healer Series) (5 page)

Heat flamed my face. I was out of my league and knew I had already made myself appear to be an irrational teen. Lucy wouldn’t want me to see him. My inner self proceeded to
lie down on the ground screaming and kicking her feet at the notion I shouldn’t see him again. In my brilliance, I dug deep and found a perfect line to exit on.

“Maybe in my dreams.
” I smiled and turned to walk away. I know how corny that was, but in my defense, I was seventeen.

When I got h
ome that night, Whit waited on the front porch in nothing, but his tennis shoes and basketball shorts. I rolled my eyes.

“Somebody’s in trouble
,” he mocked as he pulled his shoulder-length hair back into a ponytail.

“For what?”
I asked panicked.

“Looks like you already know.” He laughed. He must have felt my
energy surge when my heart beat accelerated. Judging by the ridiculous dopey smirk on his face, I could see he was enjoying the idea that I was in trouble. “Lucy got a phone call from the Shively police department today. Officer Malkin, wanted to check and see how you were after you fainted yesterday.”

Officer
Malkin, the tall female officer that questioned me
. “Great.” I mumbled under my breath.

As I entered the house, I mentally prepared myself for what would be no less than a nuclear meltdown.

Inside, Lucy waited, just as Whit had warned me. I decided to be honest about everything.

Well, mostly everything.

Well maybe only about twenty percent of the truth.

“You revealed yourself
, Aldo. You’ve put us all in danger.”

“It wasn’t intentional, Lucy.”

Then the loaded question came.  “How old is he?” She crossed her arms over her chest and her glasses slid halfway down her nose.

“Older than me.”
I shrugged. In the short life I had lived up until this point, playing dumb had worked maybe two times out of a million, but that didn’t stop me from trying.

“How old, Aldo?” She stood like a statue, her voice stern.

“Twenty-five.” I tried to say it as if I had no clue she would find it upsetting.

“Are you kidding me?” She threw her thin arms in the air
like I had just told her I was pregnant. “We need to move.”

“No
, we don’t!” My voice boomed.

She turned and stared at me surprised, her eyes wide. “You are not seeing this ma
n.” She picked up her coffee mug and huffed into the kitchen. Lucy and I never fought, mostly because I did whatever she told me to. To defy her felt like the cruelest thing I could do because, she had taken us in and protected us after our mother died giving birth to us. Lucy said our father bailed as soon as he found out our mother was pregnant. Lucy was all we had and she took us in, unselfishly and wholeheartedly. But I would see Thomas again… as long as he took my playful banter about seeing me in my dreams seriously, and she couldn’t stop me.

“What man?” Whit walked into the living
room from the hall, where he had been eaves dropping, no doubt.

“No one.”
I rolled my eyes.
Why did he always have to interrupt?

“Lucy,” I called, as I made my way into the kitchen.

“My answer is no, Aldo.”

Whit followed, continuing to be his usual nosey self, and of course Hudson appeared behind him seconds later.

“Lucy, I didn’t ask you if I could see him.” I responded calmly, doing my best to ignore their presence.

She leaned against the sink, using her hands to balance. “I’m sorry. I assumed you wanted to date this man.”
The hard lines of her face relaxed as she smiled relieved.

“No, you assumed right.”

The hard lines instantly returned, and she pushed her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose.

I felt a lump the size of Texas
rise into my throat. I had never defied Lucy or challenged her in any way.

Hudson and Whit shot a quick look at each other, their eyes wide
. Anticipation crackled in the air. Given my defiance, anything short of a global crisis was about to happen.

“Aldo, he is too old for you.” She
scolded, like a mother would speak to her child, telling them how silly they are.

“U
nder normal circumstances you would be right—”

“Under any circumstance
, I am right!” She made a condescending laugh.

“I’m not normal.”

“That’s for sure.” Whit added one of his usual unwelcomed, sarcastic remarks.

“What are you? Ten?
” I shot glare at him. “None of us are normal. I found someone like me and I want to know him. He’s just a friend. I’m not dating him. Do you guys mind?” I turned to my brothers who remained engrossed in our conversation.

“Like we
wouldn’t find out anyway, Aldo,” Hudson snorted.

“Quit being such a spaz
,” Whit followed. I groaned becoming more frustrated with their presence.

“Aldo, there are boys y
our age—”

I interrupted her. “
Not like him. Not who know what it’s like to move around, afraid of being found by vampires, and knowing your purpose in life is to give, give, give.” I started to tear up, but held back as my brothers would surely have teased me. “Besides, we’re only friends,” I reiterated again, disappointed at the truth of it.

“What did you say?” Whit asked.

“What?” I tried to remember my babbling.

“Did yo
u say vampires?” Whit’s dark eyes stared at me with bewilderment.

Lucy shot me a look, and I knew it was her way of saying,
Way to go dipshit
.

“Did Thomas tell you this?” She removed her glasses and wiped the lens with her shirt. “Did he tell you that?” she asked again as she placed her glasses back on.

“Well, yes. I mean, no. I figured it out in my dreams. He never actually said it.”

“Did you tell him about your dreams?” Her stare told me I’d be in big trouble if I answered yes.

“No.” I made a point to control my heartbeat. Lucy forbade me to tell anyone about my gift to absorb information.

“His name is Thomas?” Hudson asked
from the kitchen doorway with a look of confusion on his face. Leave it to Hudson to completely miss the atomic bomb I just dropped about vampires and focus on the random, insignificant part.

“Wh
at did you see?” Lucy whispered, stepping towards me.

“Why are you whispering, Lucy?” Whit whispered mockingly. “Everyone is in here.”

Lucy rolled her eyes at him.

“A vampire drinking blood f
rom a woman.” I left out the part about Thomas holding the baby because it still didn’t make any sense, and she already didn’t want me seeing him. That would freak her out even more.

Lucy huffed and stormed out of the kitchen.

Whit made a stupid face, mocking me because I was in trouble.

As I walked by him
to follow Lucy, I smacked him on the forehead with the palm of my hand so hard it made my skin sting.

He grunted, but couldn’t retaliate because by the time he got to me I was already near Lucy. I s
at on our couch across from her, followed by my brother entourage. Her hands shook, and I could tell she was very upset by my revelation.

“Why didn’t you
just tell us?”

Lucy picked up her knitting, a blanket she had been making for
me, and focused on it. “Tell you what?” She tried to play dumb.

“Come on, Lucy. We’re not babies anymore,” I pleaded.

She sighed heavily, and a look of defeat washed over her. As if this was something she had battled with for a long time. “I was going to. I thought maybe once you graduated I would.” She pulled the arm back on her recliner she sat in so the foot prop came up.

“So there are vampires?” Hudson asked with shock in his voice.

“We already established that, dumb ass,” Whit replied annoyed, elbowing him in the side.

“Whit!”
Lucy shrieked.

“Sorry.” He shrugged.

Lucy darted her gaze to me, as if it was my fault Whit cursed.

“What?” I asked defensively, unsure why she was mad at me for Whit
’s offense. Lucy shook her head as Whit laughed to himself, humored at my expense.

I connect
ed to him and pulled hard, glaring at him as I did. He snapped my draw and rolled his eyes.

“Stop it you two.” Lucy must have sensed what was happening.

“What do they want with us?” I tried to move the conversation forward.

Lucy
wiped under her eyes.

“Are you crying?” Hudson asked softly.

“No.” She cleared her throat and continued with her knitting.

“What do they want with us, Lucy?” I asked again.

“Well, lots of things. They like our blood. It energizes them in a different way than humans.” She coughed and cleared her throat again. Her voice cracked. “We can heal ourselves, so it’s a win/win scenario for them. We can also heal any human they may feed on.”

“That do
esn’t sound so bad.” Hudson shrugged.

Lucy leaned forward in her chair.
“Oh, do you want to be fed on by a vampire?”

“No.” Hudson looked down at the floor
avoiding Lucy’s lethal stare.

“Has a healer ever been turned?” I asked curiously.

“Haevarzois is what they are called. It means Blood Healer.” She focused hard on her knitting. I later learned Lucy used knitting as a coping mechanism for stress, but I didn’t understand this back then.

“
So when they are turned, they can still heal?” I questioned.

“Yes. In fact, their ability is magnified.”

“So why is it so horrible if a vampire turns a healer?” Whit asked. He was very young and very stupid to ask such a question.

“Whit.”
She put down her knitting and made eye contact with him. “They are dead. Life may pass through them, but the second element of life is gone.” She paused.

I thought about this for a moment.
The second element, the strongest element. “Ensouled,” I whispered.

“Yes.” She nodded.

“The soul?” Hudson questioned.

“Yeah,
” I confirmed, rolling my eyes

“You really believe that?” I scooted to the edge of my seat, completely fascinated by the thought of vampires.

“It’s what I was taught.”

“Have you ever met one?” Whit
tapped his fingers on the side table.

Lucy’s hands tremble
d. “No, I haven’t.”

“So if they are dead and evil, why would they still heal people?”

Lucy exhaled loudly. “They have to drink blood to heal, Aldo. The energy only comes from the blood. They can walk in the daylight because they possess our gift, but are immortal. Vampires pay them to heal their victims, and guard them during the day. That’s not what we are meant to do.” She continued knitting, refusing to look at me. “We do God’s work, Aldo. They clean up the mess of Satan’s spawns.”

“So Thomas is a blood healer?” Hudson questioned.
Poor Hudson. He just seemed to always be four steps behind. Whit smacked Hudson in the forehead with the palm of his hand, annoyed by Hudson as well, and darted out of the room as Hudson moved to retaliate. I rolled my eyes. Of course they would act like this when our aunt just told us there are vampires.

Lucy struggled to keep her hands from shaking.

“Is there something else you’re not telling us, Lucy?”

“That’s all you need to know for now, Aldo.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” she boomed.

“I’m going to see him again, Lucy.” She gave no response and continued with her knitting. I left the room slowly, looking forward to going to bed.  Going to sleep was a very exciting thought for once.

.

six

Present

The bell dings on the door as I exit Anthony’s Pizza. Refreshed and energized after spending twenty minutes surrounded by teenagers, I make my way down Broad Street toward the club, avoiding my usual route because I don’t want to see the Quickie Mart again. I walk slowly, scarfing down my slice of pie, and before I know it, I’ve reached the club.

I
enter through the back and nod hello to the bouncers as I make my way to the dressing room.

“You got a request.
” Rick approaches me in the hall outside the dressing room, his eyes honed in on my chest like a moth to flame.

“Already?”
I just got here.

“Room three.”

“Thanks, Rick.” I smile and gently touch his arm, and he melts into the slouched image of an eighty year old man. Really, you would think he’d avoid me. He can’t be oblivious to the fact that he gets exhausted when he molests me with his eyes.

I quickly appl
y my makeup, slip on my costume—a black top with thigh highs and a garter belt, and make my way to room three. I slowly part the beaded curtain and slide into the room. Inside, a man wearing a button up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and tight black pants sits in a relaxed position on the purple velvet sofa, one arm hanging over the back. His jet black hair is slicked back, but the oddest thing about him is he’s wearing sunglasses.

A chill runs through me and every hair on my body stands on end.
I don’t know this man, but he feels familiar. I scan him again, but nothing stands out that rings a bell as to why.

“Take everything off,” he commands. His requ
est is not as surprising as the tone he uses.

“I don’t take everything off.” I stay by the door and assess
the situation. If this guy is some kind of jerk, I’m going to leave.

“I paid for you
to be naked.” His accent seems foreign, but I can’t place where it’s from. Maybe like an immigrant washed with an American accent.

“No, you paid for me to give you a lap dance.” I smile, but maintain my stand.

“Take it all off.”

“Perhaps you woul
d like another dancer.”

“Perhaps I wouldn’t.”

“I’m not taking everything off,” I re-affirm. We stare at one another for a brief moment, a battle of the wills, and finally he breaks the silence.

“Then dance.”

Against my better judgment which told me I should exit immediately, I slowly sashay towards him, doing my best to excite him. He watches, but he seems bored and not impressed. He makes no movements or facial expressions. I can’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to watch the train wreck that’s my dancing either. Once in front of him, I bend over, my behind in his face and slowly stand, rolling my back up while keeping my legs straight. I move my body in rhythm with the music, occasionally bending down and snapping back up so the hair from my red wig flies up with me. I turn back to see if any of my moves have affected the mysterious man. He’s watching me, but his face lacks any expression.

“Am I
boring you?” I move with the beat. Slowly, I unhook my bra and let it slide off of my arms.
I will make this man come apart.
He shifts in his seat, leaning forward for a brief moment, but sits back again, and exhales loudly.
Guess that worked.

The tattoo on his
right forearm catches my attention, but before I get a good look at it, he jerks his arm away and rolls his sleeves down.

“Thought you didn’t get nak
ed.”

“J
ust the top. I’m wearing pasties,” I place my hands on the back of the couch behind his shoulders, and lean over him so that my breasts hang in front of his face. I lean back, then raise my left leg to the arm of the sofa and slowly roll my hip into him. He exhales again.

“Getting pretty close to it aren’t you?”

I lean forward again so that my chest is in his face. “You’re a decent looking guy. Surely you’ve seen a naked woman before.”

“What’s your name?” He ignores my question.

“Blakely.”
Why can’t he just shut up?

“Your real name,” he demands.

“Blakely,” I reply, as I continue to roll my body back and forth.

He grabs
my forearm and sits up abruptly. His sunglasses hide his eyes, but I can feel their glare trying to burn a hole through me.

I try to pull his energy, but
sense nothing. No energy?
How did I miss this when I entered the room?
My heart pounds and I twist out of his grip. “Aldo.” I stare down at him, hiding my fear behind a wall as strong as egg shell.

“
That was easy.” His eyebrows shift up as if he just rolled his eyes. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

I inhale a deep br
eath to calm myself and remember what my aunt told me. Stay in control of my reaction. “Why do you want to know?”

He releases a short laugh through his nose. “It’s a game. I like seeing people fol
d to me, especially dirty little whores.”

I pause, shocked
, which I’m sure is obvious, given my stunned stare, and my mouth hanging wide open. This guy is a total douche bag. You get that type sometimes. They talk to us as if were dogs. Of course, this guy is on a different level. I would drain him, like other nasty-mouthed jerks I’ve handled in the past, but I can’t. Playing nice is all I have.

“Time’s up.” I smile
while holding the giant lump in my throat at bay.

“Yes, it is,” he agrees in an eerie way.
His brows rise as he slowly nods in agreement.

I turn to walk out, but
turn around to lash out at him. Screw being nice. “Oh, and sir...” I use my most polite tone.

“Yes.”

“A sell out would’ve gotten naked. Go fuck yourself.” I deliver the words with a huge smile and leave quickly without seeing his reaction. I make my way back into the dressing room, walking on what feels like legs made of Jell-O.

The girls in the room turn
and stare at me.

“What’s wrong
, Aldo?” Alina asks. Topless and wearing heels, she walks over and wraps an arm around me, her exposed breast touches my arm. “Sit down.”

As she walks me to my chair, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I’m pale as a ghost.
No wonder everyone is staring at me.