“I was taken into another room where I made the money transfer,” he rasped, his forehead going slick. “Then I was injected with something, monitored, and coached for eight hours.”
“Coached?” I asked as I took a napkin from the rolling table near the wall and pressed it gently to his forehead, working around a burn. I could still see the attractive man he was beneath the wounds. It made the horror even sharper.
“They taught me how to use the power.” He focused on me. “What can you do?”
“Perhaps I can show you,” I whispered as I ran a hand just above his head, through his aura.
I wasn't sure if I could heal Leshing, but I knew I could at least ease his pain. His aura had smudges of oily black in it, reminding me of the sickness that had infected Danu recently. To heal his sickness, I'd have to know what was wrong with him. Obviously, it was his magic, but healing someone's magic is tricky. I was able to help Danu because of my connection to the realm, but I had no such connection to Edward Leshing. That being said, anyone could see that he was being burned, apparently from the inside out. What he needed was something to cool the flames. But these weren't normal flames, they were electrical, and water wouldn't work on electricity. It would only conduct it faster.
So how do you deal with electricity? You don't quench it; it can't be quenched. Energy doesn't die, it merely transforms. This energy needed to be siphoned from Leshing. It needed to be grounded.
“Everyone step away from the bed,” I said abruptly.
They moved back as Leshing stared at me with wide eyes. I moved back as well, focusing on the blackness in his aura. Within it lay sparks of white—a compression of all colors. I knew then that the magic Edward had purchased was consuming him. It was too much power for a human body to hold. Magic needs life-force to sustain it and Leshing's life-force wasn't strong enough. So the energy was compressing his life-force to fuel itself—like taking a barrel of grapes and making them into a bottle of wine. Unfortunately, that left a deficit that made Leshing vulnerable to the very magic feeding on him. I'd thought to ground the magic with clay-brown, but that wouldn't work. I needed to fight fire with fire. I had to feed on it as it was feeding on him. I had to remove the magic.
I breathed in slowly, calling to the oily black that surrounded the compressed white. It wasn't the magic, merely the evidence of it, but when I fed like a Faulin, I took more than aura or emotions. I took the life force and magic attached to the aura. And the magic attached to that blackness didn't belong in his body. My magic latched onto the oily black and yanked. With that first taste, it went wild. It was as if it knew we could take it all this time, that wemusttake it all. A feast had been laid before us and we'd been told it was our duty to eat.
I consumed it all.
Edward gasped as the magic poured out of him and into me. I didn't steal it, I devoured it. I transformed the electrical magic into fuel. My body tingled with power, little hairs rising on my arms as I closed my eyes and moaned in pleasure. No matter what I fed on, there was always a touch of sensuality to the exchange, courtesy of the Faulin magic given to me by Cyprian. The fuel tightened my muscles and crackled through me like lightning, then settled, becoming mine. I sighed and opened my eyes, feeling as if I were plump with power.
Edward was gaping at me. The magic was gone now, but his wounds remained, and I had another idea. I sent spruce into his aura, strengthening his muscles, bones, and tissues. I pulled on the power I'd just taken and pushed it back into Leshing as pure energy. It seemed like justice, even though it may have been more appropriate to let him suffer and scar—to mar his handsome face and leave him with a reminder of his greed. But it felt wrong to judge him. I only had a piece of his story; I didn't know what had led him here. And I had the chance to help him.
So, I took the chance.
If the wounds hadn't been caused by magic and if I weren't using the power of that very magic to heal him, I'm not sure if it would have worked. As much as spruce can strengthen tissues, it can't actually heal damage of this caliber, not instantly at least. If Leshing had been covered in knife wounds, for example, I couldn't have worked his aura to heal him before he died. I may have been able to speed his healing a little, and I could have eased his pain, but I wouldn't have been able to do what I did then—smooth those burns into healthy skin. But under those specific conditions, with that perfect combination of cause and related energy, I was able to work a miracle.
Edward sat up in shock and stared down at his healed arms. “Sweet sufferin' Jesus,” he exclaimed with the hint of an Irish accent. “You're an angel.” He looked up at me. “An angel sent from Heaven.”
“No, darling, that would be my consort.” I grinned at Kyrian, using affection to cover my own shock.
It had worked. I had healed him. Holy Heaven, it worked.
Edward Leshing blinked at me, then Kyrian, and back. “What areyouthen?”
“I think I'm about to be your next girlfriend.”
Chapter Five
“You had better explain that statement immediately, Mvarra,” Malik growled at me.
“He's our way in.” I waved a hand at Leshing as Alex called for the nurse. “He can get us into the next auction.”
“But he's already bought magic from them,” Lily argued. “Why would he buy more?”
“Because he's a millionaire, and they never have enough,” I said.
“Billionaire, actually,” Leshing corrected me with a smirk. Then he frowned. “Did you take it all?”
“The magic?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Yes, it was consuming you. I had to remove it.”
“That's a shame. It cost me over five million dollars.” He sighed. “But better human than dead.”
“Indeed,” Alex said with a sharp tone.
