CarnalHealing

by Virginia Reede

  Relax, she told herself, taking a deep breath. Patience had never been her strong suit, but it was a trait often required in the rituals she had learned to help channel her magic and her connection with other Leonoreans. Closing her eyes to the still-empty room, she called to mind the words of a chant she sometimes used when she needed to settle her mind in preparation for a ritual, or to calm herself afterward.

  Animus alcedonia, sententia quietis. Animus alcedonia, sententia quietis. Tranquil soul, peaceful thought. The familiar, rhythmic words of the inwardly spoken chant soothed her disquiet. She felt her magic coil around and settle itself like a cat curling up for a nap.

  Animus alcedonia, sententia quietis. She wondered vaguely why her power had been vigilant in the first place. Maybe it was because she had anticipated using it to make sure Lucy was still cancer free. Animus alcedonia, sententia quietis.

  Too bad Jeff hadn’t been in his office. She could be in his arms right now. In reaction to the thought, her power lifted its head but, soothed by the chant, returned to rest. Animus alcedonia, sententia quietis.

  Although her eyes were still closed, Leonore knew she would be instantly aware if someone else came into the quiet room. She let the tension lift from the muscles in her neck and ease from her arms and legs. The chair really was quite comfortable. Animus alcedonia, sententia quietis.

  She woke with a start, momentarily disoriented. Had she fallen asleep? The room didn’t seem to look exactly as it had when she had closed her eyes only moments before. Leonore’s gaze fell on the jigsaw puzzle. Was it her imagination, or were more pieces in place than she remembered?

  The light filtering through the Venetian blinds seemed different as well. She looked blearily at her watch. What she saw brought her out of the chair and to her feet in a single motion—it was a few minutes after ten o’clock. She had not only fallen asleep, she had slept for over three hours. The light coming through the blinds was the ambient light of the city at night, not the last rays of the evening sun. The room was empty, but it gave Leonore a shiver of apprehension to think that people had been in and out while she slept.

  The hall was quiet now and no light shone from Lucy’s door as Lenore approached. It was possible that one of the parents was spending the night in the room on a cot, so she looked into the doorway with caution, but saw only the sleeping child. Pleased that her shoes didn’t make any noise, she moved to the side of the bed and, very carefully so as not to awaken her, placed a hand on Lucy’s chest.

  Calling her magic, she scanned the tiny body for signs that the cancer had returned, and was immediately reassured. There was no sign of the malignant cells and the girl’s own defenses felt stronger. The “soldiers”, which Leonore now assumed to be the medicines Jeff had administered, were in place, vigilant but not currently engaged in fighting disease. She withdrew her hand, relieved.

  She was still torn about whether it was safe for her to leave. Surely the stranger would be noticed entering the hospital. And it seemed unlikely that he was already here, waiting for his chance to be alone with Lucy.

  But isn’t that exactly what I just did?

  Leonore wished she could make a quick patrol of the ward, but she was far too conspicuous at this time of night. If she simply walked to the elevator and exited, it would probably be assumed she was a parent, who had probably stayed until her child was asleep. But if she started wandering the halls, someone would question her.

  She decided to go home. She could always stop by again in the morning.

  She’d had a difficult time finding a parking space when she’d arrived, having to settle for the far corner of the roof. Now her car sat alone, the other visitors all having left hours before. The breeze was pleasant as she exited the elevator—September could be stifling in Boston, but it could also be beautiful.

  As she crossed the garage, an especially strong gust of wind blew her hair into her face, and seemed cooler than it had a moment before. Leonore, fumbling in her purse for her keys, felt a sudden chill, but before she could shiver, knew it wasn’t the wind that was making her cold.

  A figure stood in the shadows near her car, and she knew with complete certainty that the coldness emanated from him. She stopped abruptly, her keys not yet in her hand. She considered turning and running back toward the elevators, but she’d heard the car she’d departed rumble down and out of her reach the moment she’d exited.

  “Hello, witch.” The man’s voice carried easily over the sounds of the city, although he spoke softly. He pronounced the last word as if it was a curse.

  “What do you want?” Leonore was pleased to hear the steadiness of her own voice. Her power thrummed in her ears, on high alert.

  “Have you no idea?”

  The man seemed to glide a few steps closer to her, and Leonore involuntarily backed up a step. She tried to glance around. The stairwell was at the opposite corner, with the stranger between her and its glowing red exit sign. His movement had not quite brought his face into the light, be she felt she could sense his eyes, glowing in the darkness like a wolf’s.

  “You made Lucy sick,” she said, mostly to gain time. “Why did you do that?”

  His laugh was like music, dark and seductive. “Kittens grow up to be cats. Best to drown them before they get old enough to scratch.”

  What is he talking about? Leonore’s confusion must have showed on her face, which she now realized was fully illuminated by same light that the man seemed to be avoiding, because he answered the unasked question.

  “Don’t pretend not to understand, witch. The child is one of you. Or, she will be when she grows up.”

  “How can you know that?” Leonore burst out without thinking. Leonoreans don’t begin to manifest their powers until puberty.

  “Did you think to keep it a secret? Although,” the purring voice went on, “I was surprised to see you here. Our genealogists find no close connection between the girl and your branch of the witch’s bloodline.”

  Ice tentacles curled around Leonore’s stomach. What did this man know of the Leonorean bloodline? She had been unable to trace her own ancestry with complete surety, and some of the circle members were only recognizable by the feel of their power. And this stranger not only knew of Leonore’s lineage, but had somehow traced Lucy’s as well.

  Kittens grow up to be cats.

  “You stay away from her,” she said, suddenly incensed at the thought of anyone harming the still-fragile child who slept so nearby.

  “Or you’ll what? Cast a glamour to frighten me? Heal me to death?” The lyrical laugh pealed again. “You have no powers dangerous to me, witch. While I, on the other hand—” Another smooth movement finally brought his face into the light. “Have any number of unpleasant ways to hurt you. Unpleasant for you, that is.”

  Leonore felt as if she had been mesmerized. He was the most breathtakingly beautiful man she had ever seen. She’d glimpsed him once before, of course, but had not noticed the perfect arch of his brow, or the sculpted perfection of his lips. And his eyes…

  With an effort, she shook herself free of the spell. The man’s grin widened and one brow slowly lifted. He was just a man—a handsome one, but not astonishingly so. Leonore found her voice.

  “If you’re so scornful of glamours, why do you bother to cast one?

  He shrugged. “Vain of me, I suppose. I just wanted to show you how minor a talent it is, and how easily performed. Even on someone who thinks she is powerful.” He had come even closer, and Leonore tried to think through the beginnings of panic. What is he going to do to me?

  “You’re Draíodóir,” she blurted.

  “Of course I am,” he replied. “And you—” For the first time his voice lost some of its smoothness. “Are a Leonorean witch. Although you obviously have little in common with the woman whose name you have the arrogance to take.”

  Leonore, who had been about to protest that the name was on her birth certificate, held her tongue. Again, she gauged the distance to the exit sign.


  The man must have seen the direction of her furtive glance, because he said, “Go ahead. You might make it. I’m really not much of a runner.”

  Well, I am. With a sudden burst of effort, Leonore bolted in the direction of the stairwell, running past the man’s right. He turned, but made no move to follow her from what she could tell, although she didn’t dare to slow down enough even to look over her shoulder.

  I’m going to make it. I’m going to—

  Leonore was just reaching for the door handle when she was seized with the sensation of her chest being wrapped in iron band. Her last panting breath was forced from her lungs and she looked down as, impossibly, she was lifted from her feet and pulled backward through the air as if lifted by a giant hand. She struggled to speak but could not draw in air.

  Her toes dragged the ground, but not enough to get a purchase on the rough concrete. It seemed her lungs would burst, and dark spots, ringed with fire, invaded her vision. Then the invisible hand seemed to release her and she felt herself falling toward the pavement. She thrust her elbows back, and they slammed against the concrete but not fast enough to prevent the back of her head from smacking the floor with a jarring impact.

  The pressure on Leonore’s chest was abruptly released and she gasped. Her vision cleared and the face above her swam into focus. The stranger, smiling. Leonore wanted to shrink away, but there was nowhere to go.

  “So, witch,” he said, purring like a big cat. “I have you. Now, how shall I kill you?”

  Chapter Seven

  “But her car’s still here,” Jeff told the nurse manning the station. “Did you actually see her get into the elevator?”

  The nurse shook her head. “No, but she was sound asleep in the visitors lounge not twenty minutes ago. I’ve only been away from the desk one time since then, to check on a patient, and I’d just gotten back when you stopped by.”

  How could I have missed her? Jeff sighed. He knew he should just go home and catch up with Leonore later. He’d been annoyed when Leonore hadn’t returned his calls earlier, and the surge of happiness that he’d experienced when he found out she’d actually come by to see him at work had caught him completely unaware. What was it about the woman that the mere thought of seeing her made him feel…what? Giddy?

  Something must have shown on his face, because the nurse smiled and said, “Maybe she stopped at the restroom or something, and was going up in the elevator while you were coming back down.”

  “Wouldn’t you have seen her?” Jeff asked.

  The nurse shrugged. “Maybe not, if she was coming from the direction of the bathrooms. It’s worth a shot.”

  Even if this unlikely scenario were true, Leonore would be long gone by the time Jeff made it back to the top level. “Thanks,” he said, and headed back to the elevator, where he hit the button for the level where his own car was parked.

  Once behind the wheel, he took out his cell phone and checked it for new messages. There were none, and he almost punched in Lenore’s number, but he only had her home phone and, even if she had just left the hospital, she wouldn’t have had time to get home. Not that he even knew where she lived.

  He slammed a palm against the steering wheel, wincing at the pain. Get a grip on your hormones, Jeff. Just because the sex was great doesn’t mean you have to act like a lovesick teenager. He put the key into the ignition and started the engine.

  And promptly turned left out of the parking space. Away from the exit. In the direction of the roof parking where he’d seen Leonore’s car. Just in case. Shaking his head, he chuckled softly to himself.

  “Dr. Carson, you have got it ba-a-a-ad.”

  * * * * *

  “Why do you want to kill me?” Leonore panted as soon as she had regained enough breath to speak. “What did I ever do to you?”

  “Don’t play ignorant.” Her captor sneered. “It’s not going to do you any good.” He was no longer looking at her, instead turning his attention to the garage surrounding them, his expression assessing. Leonore didn’t like the look of that.

  “I’m not playing anything. Until about two minutes ago, I wasn’t even sure the Draíodóir weren’t a myth.”

  That got his attention. His head snapped back around toward Leonore. “You lie, witch. I know exactly what you’re planning.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leonore replied, but a seed of doubt started growing in her mind. She was planning something, after all. Something that had everything to do with being a Leonorean. But how could the Draíodóir know anything about her plans for the equinox or, even if they did, why would they care?

  “That will do nicely,” the man said, as if to himself.

  “What—” Leonore started to ask but, once again, she felt the invisible steel band start to tighten around her chest, and her words were cut off, along with her breath. She was pulled to her feet and, as if pulled by ropes, started to slide toward the concrete barriers that ringed the parking garage—barriers that ended at chest height, exposing four or five feet of space that was open to the night air beyond. As she was lifted from her uselessly kicking feet and through the air, Leonore suddenly understood what her captor meant to do.

  * * * * *

  Even though he fully expected to see the space where Leonore’s car had been parked sitting empty, Jeff couldn’t help but hope he was wrong. When he turned the corner and saw the shiny blue car sitting exactly where he’d last seen it, he blinked, for a moment sure that his wishful thinking had caused his mind to play tricks on him.

  But if her car’s still here, where the hell is she?

  Something moved in Jeff’s peripheral vision, and his foot automatically went to the brake as he searched the shadows to see what had caught his attention.

  Two figures, one impossibly tall, stood near the concrete and cable barrier that marked the garage’s perimeter. There was something unnatural about the way the taller one moved. Jeff squinted. Why was it so dark? The garage was well lit, but something seemed to obscure the beams, as if a dark veil had been pulled across them.

  Finally, his brain started to make sense out of the images he was seeing. The figure Jeff had thought to be so tall was actually hovering above the floor of the garage. No, he realized, not hovering. It was floating—moving slowly but inexorably toward the open space that yawned darkly beyond the lighter surface of the concrete slabs of the barrier.

  And it was Leonore.

  * * * * *

  If Leonore didn’t control her panic, she was going to die. Unfortunately, every method she’d ever learned for controlling panic started with taking a deep, calming breath. Which wasn’t an option with the invisible belt continuing to tighten around her chest.

  Get a grip, Leonore. It’s only been a few seconds. You can hold your breath for a lot longer than this.

  The thought helped, a little. Leonore forced her eyes to stop darting around, looking for a way out that didn’t exist, and concentrated on the barrier. He was going to lift her up and over it. Could she get a hold on something, make it more difficult?

  She realized she’d been kicking her feet, trying to get a toehold on the floor of the garage, which was useless because she was hovering at least a foot above the pavement. Whatever this man was doing to her, Leonore wasn’t paralyzed. She stopped struggling—what strength she had, she couldn’t afford to waste.

  The barriers appeared to be held in place by cables, which were attached to concrete pillars that rose between each slab. The cables ran diagonally across the barriers, crisscrossing when they intersected a matching set of cables attached to the pillar on the opposite side. At each end, the ladderlike wires rose at least a foot higher than the barrier. Leonore tried to gauge the distance—could she grab one?

  As she moved closer to the edge, lifting ever higher, she flexed the fingers of her left hand, but resisted reaching out. If she passed closely enough to the cables, she might be able to grab one.

  Closer…higher…she had to time her
movement for exactly the right moment, or her captor might notice and lift her up and away from any chance at snagging a cable. Leonore glanced toward the Draíodóir, but he wasn’t looking at her.

  She followed the direction of his gaze and, momentarily forgetting that she couldn’t breathe, tried to gasp. Panic threatened to grip her again.

  A car was bearing down on the man, tires screeching and powerful engine growling. And behind the wheel, face caught in the watery light of the September moon, was Jeff Carson.

  Something sparkled in the twin beams of Jeff’s headlights—something that made him think of ropes or cords, but without substance. Impossible. But, real or not, they extended from the outstretched hands of the figure on the left, who Jeff could now see was a man. They were somehow attached to Leonore, encircling her and holding her off the ground and moving her, inexorably, closer to the edge. Without even touching her, the man was about to throw Leonore off the roof.

  There was no time to make sense of it, no time to do anything but stop it. Jeff aimed the car at the man and pressed down on the accelerator. Whatever the man was, he was about to be dead.

  A pale face with dark eyes like glittering holes turned to face Jeff, and he just had time to see the gleaming cords that held Leonore dissolve like smoke when the front of the car seemed to lift as if shoved back by a wave of air. The last thing Jeff saw before the car rolled sidewise was Leonore, tumbling over the barrier and into the void beyond.

  The abrupt cessation of the pressure on Leonore’s chest would have been wonderful, except that it happened simultaneously with the resumption of gravity. Her left hand, already poised and ready, shot forward and made painful connection with the row of cables. She grasped one, but knew even as she felt the cold steel against her fingers that the one-handed grip wouldn’t be strong enough to hold the full momentum of her weight. The arc of her descending body snapped her arm up, swung her around, and slammed her chest against the concrete of the building, jerking her shoulder nearly from its socket.