Read Online Human Interaction by Cheyenne Meadows - Free Book Online
Authors: Cheyenne Meadows
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Hysterics simply had to wait.
We headed back out the door, Ducky peeking out before pulling me along behind him. Striding into the center of the warehouse, we paused.
"Where's Meat?" I asked, not seeing him in the faded light.
"On his way." Ducky replied, keeping hold on my hand.
Shifting my weight, I waited. "Are you okay?"
He nodded.
"And Meat?"
A low rumble sounded from behind me. "I've been better." Meat stepped away from the shadows, looking like he'd barely survived five rounds with Muhammad Ali.
"Damn. You got your ass kicked, didn't you?" Ducky gestured toward Meat.
Meat's eyes flashed. "I'm still alive. More than I can say for the others."
I scanned his body. Blood soaked one arm, his dark hair looked tousled, and he seemed to step gingerly with his left foot. His face spoke of hot adrenaline still coursing through his body. Anyone dumb enough to try to corner or challenge him now would be signing their death warrant, injured or not. Like a wounded animal, he appeared more dangerous than ever, despite the battle wounds.
Poor guy. Guilt sat heavily on my shoulders. Healing him would be the proper and nice thing to do for your pre-friend. All good deeds deserved a reward, too. Maybe I could get a free lap dance later for the service. Yummy. Standing just a hair behind Ducky, I whispered, "I can heal you." Meat's eyes met mine. Ducky turned and stared down at me.
Healing was another rare feature turning up in the human population. Supposedly, it also existed in myth like the vampires and shapeshifters of centuries back. Witches, the term given to those that possessed the ability way back when, lived but quietly so. History showed many accounts where the simple label signed a death warrant by burning at the stake. Needless to say, those with special skills kept their mouths shut and practiced under strict secrecy until fairly recently. Luckily, the world had become a less judgmental place.
"You didn't mention that on the boat as an asset," Ducky declared.
"Yeah, well. You didn't believe my teleportation. I didn't think that talent would be considered an asset in this little adventure." My voice grew a bit stronger. "And, you didn't ask."
"We've still not seen proof you can teleport." Meat huffed as he stepped toward the opening of the warehouse.
I followed, grabbing his uninjured arm. "I can do this. Let me." I couldn't stand seeing the pain crossing his face. Not when I could do something about it.
He paused and regarded me intently. "I'm in no condition to argue."
"Good. Sit down and this won't take a jiffy." I sounded a whole lot more confident than I felt.
The ability had remained latent until suddenly emerging in my late teens, when I'd realized that by touch, I could help ease the aches and pains of my elderly grandmother. She'd taken me in to raise after my parents were killed in a car wreck just before my seventh birthday. Always in poor health, she'd made the best life for us that she could despite little income and a tiny one bedroom apartment, which we shared until she passed away the summer after I graduated high school, leaving me alone in the world.
It had been years since I'd healed more than skinned knees and paper cuts. But, they had put their lives on the line and I had done nothing. Healing wounds suffered trying to free me seemed like the least I could do. Don't forget the possibility of a kitty lap dance down the road. I could hear the thump of "Pour Some Sugar on Me" already.
As Meat lowered his considerable weight to the floor, I moved in, lightly placing my hands on his bad arm. Focusing intently, I concentrated on weaving the tissues together, sealing off bleeding, and wiping out potential infection. I had no idea how it worked and never entered formal training. Basically, I simply gathered heat and energy and directed both toward the wound. Magic did the rest. I could fix minor issues; big stuff really needed someone more learned and powerful than me. Unfortunately, in this
We headed back out the door, Ducky peeking out before pulling me along behind him. Striding into the center of the warehouse, we paused.
"Where's Meat?" I asked, not seeing him in the faded light.
"On his way." Ducky replied, keeping hold on my hand.
Shifting my weight, I waited. "Are you okay?"
He nodded.
"And Meat?"
A low rumble sounded from behind me. "I've been better." Meat stepped away from the shadows, looking like he'd barely survived five rounds with Muhammad Ali.
"Damn. You got your ass kicked, didn't you?" Ducky gestured toward Meat.
Meat's eyes flashed. "I'm still alive. More than I can say for the others."
I scanned his body. Blood soaked one arm, his dark hair looked tousled, and he seemed to step gingerly with his left foot. His face spoke of hot adrenaline still coursing through his body. Anyone dumb enough to try to corner or challenge him now would be signing their death warrant, injured or not. Like a wounded animal, he appeared more dangerous than ever, despite the battle wounds.
Poor guy. Guilt sat heavily on my shoulders. Healing him would be the proper and nice thing to do for your pre-friend. All good deeds deserved a reward, too. Maybe I could get a free lap dance later for the service. Yummy. Standing just a hair behind Ducky, I whispered, "I can heal you." Meat's eyes met mine. Ducky turned and stared down at me.
Healing was another rare feature turning up in the human population. Supposedly, it also existed in myth like the vampires and shapeshifters of centuries back. Witches, the term given to those that possessed the ability way back when, lived but quietly so. History showed many accounts where the simple label signed a death warrant by burning at the stake. Needless to say, those with special skills kept their mouths shut and practiced under strict secrecy until fairly recently. Luckily, the world had become a less judgmental place.
"You didn't mention that on the boat as an asset," Ducky declared.
"Yeah, well. You didn't believe my teleportation. I didn't think that talent would be considered an asset in this little adventure." My voice grew a bit stronger. "And, you didn't ask."
"We've still not seen proof you can teleport." Meat huffed as he stepped toward the opening of the warehouse.
I followed, grabbing his uninjured arm. "I can do this. Let me." I couldn't stand seeing the pain crossing his face. Not when I could do something about it.
He paused and regarded me intently. "I'm in no condition to argue."
"Good. Sit down and this won't take a jiffy." I sounded a whole lot more confident than I felt.
The ability had remained latent until suddenly emerging in my late teens, when I'd realized that by touch, I could help ease the aches and pains of my elderly grandmother. She'd taken me in to raise after my parents were killed in a car wreck just before my seventh birthday. Always in poor health, she'd made the best life for us that she could despite little income and a tiny one bedroom apartment, which we shared until she passed away the summer after I graduated high school, leaving me alone in the world.
It had been years since I'd healed more than skinned knees and paper cuts. But, they had put their lives on the line and I had done nothing. Healing wounds suffered trying to free me seemed like the least I could do. Don't forget the possibility of a kitty lap dance down the road. I could hear the thump of "Pour Some Sugar on Me" already.
As Meat lowered his considerable weight to the floor, I moved in, lightly placing my hands on his bad arm. Focusing intently, I concentrated on weaving the tissues together, sealing off bleeding, and wiping out potential infection. I had no idea how it worked and never entered formal training. Basically, I simply gathered heat and energy and directed both toward the wound. Magic did the rest. I could fix minor issues; big stuff really needed someone more learned and powerful than me. Unfortunately, in this
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