She wavered on her feet as I guided her, as if she were going to protest, then sighed, her body loosening as she leaned on me more heavily. "Fine."
Her lack of protest at me deciding actions for her disturbed me even more. When she shuddered, gagging, I simply scooped her up into my arms and headed down the hall. Unsure which was the bedroom, I solved the dilemma by nudging doors open with my foot, scuffing the bright white paint with the toe of my shoe.
When I found her room, I settled her on the end of the bed as I pulled the bedspread down on the other side. While the bedspread was a rainbow of colors, it appeared less comfortable to me than simple sheets. Andromeda’s body remained lax as I picked her up again and settled her on the other side of the bed, lowering her onto the pillow with another sigh and pulling another pillow over her head. I wasn’t sure that was the brightest idea, but I also hated to take it away from her. If she wanted to move the pillows, then I would let her do whatever made her the most comfortable.
“I hate these headaches,” she murmured.
I missed the whisper of her power around me. With her more comfortable, I focused my attention on her magic. Her power had been drained, and quite recently. Food and drink would help her, as they would help most any illness, but there were other measures that could be taken to make her feel better as well.
Unfortunately, I had little healing talent. I could help, but I would not be able to do that and maintain this disguise.
It would be worth it to examine what had been done to her. I decided to assess her injury after I made the tea, so she felt better and would not wonder why I remained by her side.
She might drop the cup. I had the reason handy.
As the water heated I invoked the communication demon in the phone to send a message to Reynard.
Facility found?
Working. Stop breathing down my neck.
Where are you?
With your entourage.
Good. They were accounted for. I brought in the tea and woke Andromeda to drink. As she sipped, leaning back against me, I asked, "I know some pressure point techniques that often help with headaches. Would you mind if I used them?”
“No,” she said, giving me back the cup. “If it helps with the headache I'll be grateful."
“You will need to lie on your stomach.”
I helped her roll over, and I moved the mass of curly black hair to the side. No lie escaped my lips. The pressure points did help with pain, but it also let me see what had been done to her. Skin to skin contact would help me. I had no healing talent that could sense it from across the room.
She made a grumbling noise as I pressed on the knot, then the muscle relaxed. I moved to other trigger points on her back. When I was half done, her eyes fluttered closed and her lashes dusted her high cheekbones.
Her breathing deepened and I held off on working on other pressure points, instead using my magic to sense what had been done to her.
The illusion flowed off me as I focused. She had been ravaged, the places where her magical energy had been stripped were as raw as any physical wound. I suppressed a growl. There was a whiff of coercion magic as well, human in flavor, wound about her. Another witch had forced her to remain immobile as they harvested her.
Harvested the woman I desired as if she were a cow to be milked. Leaving her in pain.
Suppressing the anger, I swept my senses over her, and found a minute spell, layered on top of the remnants of many others of the same type. A compulsion to forget. So this had been done to her many times.
I settled my hands on her shoulders and began feeding her power to replace what had been stolen. It would not be usable as magic for her, but the infusion could ease the ache and bolster her as she regenerated her magic.
The bedroom door flew open. A red-haired woman, flushed and angry, stood there glaring at me.
“Take your hands off of her. I’m calling the police.” She stared at me and gasped. “What the hell are you?”
Andromeda’s eyes snapped open, and she rolled onto her side, staring up at me. My illusion had slipped as I’d labored to help Andromeda. The women were seeing me in my true form.
As the humans would say, damn.
6
ANDROMEDA
Why was someone screaming?Every shrill word stabbed through my skull like a hot dagger.
