Pure Healing: A Novel of the Pure Ones (Pure/ Dark Ones Book 1)

by Aja James

  She wanted Valerius. Only Valerius.

  But that wasn’t likely to happen, Rain chided herself for having false hopes. The Protector made it clear from the moment they’d met that he was off limits. He didn’t want to speak to her, have contact with her, be in her presence, much less sign up as her Consort.

  Rain had never met anyone she repelled so strongly. People usually gravitated towards her. She gave them a sense of comfort and calm. But apparently not this warrior. His body language practically shouted that he felt her nearness disturbing.

  Invading.

  “Are there any sights you’d like to see today?” Rain doggedly continued, trying to draw the reticent warrior into conversation.

  His blank stare was response enough. Clearly, he would rather they’d already been on their way back to the Shield this morning, rather than preparing to attend the Mid-Autumn Festival.

  “No?” she responded, as if he’d spoken, “well, we’ll take you around a few places nevertheless so you get a feel for my homeland. It’s especially beautiful this time of year—autumn and spring are my favorite seasons.”

  Valerius merely continued to stare. He knew he was being unforgivably rude, but he couldn’t find his tongue if his life depended upon it.

  She was smiling at him.

  Invitingly.

  He felt his cock beginning to swell, and he struggled for mastery over his own body, turning half away from the Healer to hide the evidence of his inexplicable arousal. Self-disgust blackened his countenance and his stare grew into a scowl of discomfort.

  Rain blinked rapidly at the sudden ominous change in his expression and awkwardly looked away, turning to join Wan’er, Ayelet and Sophia for breakfast.

  “I am eager to learn of your homeland,” Valerius said through a clenched jaw, not wanting the delicate Healer to think he was some uncivilized cretin.

  She turned her head back briefly like a graceful swan. For a moment, she looked confused and uncertain, as if she’d expected him to say something off-putting but heard the opposite.

  And then she smiled.

  A beaming, radiant, glowing smile. She dipped her head slightly in acknowledgement, hesitated briefly, then stepped closer so that the fabric of her dress skimmed fleetingly against his thigh.

  Valerius sucked his breath in sharply, electrified by the slight graze.

  Only when he regulated his lungs once more did he notice that she was holding something out to him in her small pale hand.

  “I made this for you,” she said shyly, in a low voice only he could hear.

  It was what appeared to be a silk handkerchief. But it wasn’t quite silk, Valerius realized as he solemnly received the gift she placed gently in his hand, careful not to touch his skin. It was made of something finer, more luminescent, more delicate.

  And it changed with the light, like the scrolls on the walls of the corridors. It depicted a traditional Chinese scene, with a glistening lake and Chinese elms. What drew his gaze in the center of the scene was a lone black rock in the middle of the lake, seeming both opaque and translucent, like obsidian under different light. Somehow, it displayed both characteristics in the handkerchief, for the drizzling summer rain that descended upon the landscape like fine needles illuminated the rock’s shining core despite the seemingly impenetrable exterior.

  A tingling warmth spread within Valerius’ chest as he continued to gaze upon the exquisite handkerchief. He could almost feel the healing rain dance upon his own body, cleansing him, washing away his past, his pain, polishing away the filth and shame.

  “It’s old-fashioned, I know,” Rain spoke hesitantly, feeling awkward. “No one uses handkerchiefs any more, but I thought…” she abruptly stopped herself. “Well. It’s a small reminder of your time here in China.”

  And a tiny reminder of me, she added silently.

  Speechless at her generosity, Valerius could only nod his gratitude. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he turned away until she was faced with his broad back.

  Except for his mother and sister, it was the first gift a female had ever given him.

  Bluntly dismissed by the warrior once more, Rain stepped back with concern creasing her brow. Had she offended him somehow? His body was radiating strong emotional energy, but she could not discern what it was. Shaking her head slightly, as if to dispel the confusion, she squared her shoulders and joined the other females on the bed, breaking her fast and engaging in lively conversation.

  Once he got hold of himself, Valerius took a seat on the far side of the chamber and proceeded to sharpen his scythe and dagger. Just to be safe, he secured a chakram Aella lent him for the trip to his waist as backup. Every so often, he would touch the area where his heart resided to make sure that the handkerchief was safe inside the inner chest pocket of his shirt.

  Once in a while female laughter drifted to his ears, and he could have sworn they were talking about him at times, for they would turn to him in unison during parts of the chatter and immediately break into giggles. What they found so amusing about his person, Valerius couldn’t begin to guess, but he didn’t mind being the butt of their jokes, if that was what he was, because he got to see Rain’s laughter light up the entire room.

  Not once, however, did he think to join them. He did not have the diplomatic charm of Seth, nor the easy affability of Tristan. He was not cheerfully outgoing like Aella, and he had not the confident gravitas of Alexandros. He was uncomfortable around people and hated to be touched.

  Verily, he would not have any friends to call his own if not for the position he was recruited to. In the beginning it was a duty—his chosen duty to protect the weak. The Elite and Circlet members were his comrades who shared the same purpose and belief. But gradually they became more. They became friends. And then family. Valerius would not hesitate to give his life for any one of them.

  Most of all for their newest member—the Healer.

  Rain.

  By the time they headed above ground, it was only an hour after dawn. They took a lift to rise to the grassy grounds of one of the islands in the middle of West Lake. The sun was still low in the sky, hiding behind a blanket of clouds, slowly stretching its warm rays outward in tendrils of orange and pink. A slight mist covered the landscape like a dewy curtain of dragon’s smoke. The beauty around him was so unreal, Valerius could only gape in wonderment and awe.

  Two little girls no more than twelve with braided coils on either side of their heads skipped forth to take them to the awaiting boats. One girl shyly ventured up to Valerius and held out a small hand to him in invitation.

  Wordlessly, he took it and was rewarded with a gamine smile, exposing a missing front tooth where a new one was just growing in.

  She tugged him to the boat and gestured for him to sit at the very back, while Ayelet, Rain, Wan’er and Sophia sat on two padded benches in the middle.

  “They are distributing our weight,” Rain explained to him. “You likely weigh more than those two girls combined, but if we sit closer to the front of the boat, we should be relatively balanced.”

  The two girls stood at the front of the boat with long paddles twice their height. They smoothly pushed the pretty, canopied boat off shore and began to stroke the paddles leisurely in sync, harnessing the strength of the breeze that pushed them toward the mainland.

  Valerius felt embarrassed that he was sitting idly on his ass while two little girls did all the hard work. But he took note of their experienced technique and realized he’d probably be more embarrassed if he tried a hand at paddling. Maybe even sink them all in the middle of the lake.

  After a few moments of silent enjoyment, each passenger absorbing the graceful sunrise over a glistening West Lake, the girls began to sing with a crystal resonance that nightingales would envy.

  “They like you,” Rain whispered to Valerius with a warm twinkle in her eye. She sat closest to him toward the back, her front facing his, her back against Ayelet’s, who was facing the front of the boat.


  Startled, Valerius only blinked at her without comprehension.

  Rain smiled her Mona Lisa smile and nodded to their ferry-girls, “They want to impress you with their lilting song because they’ve never seen such a handsome man as you.”

  Valerius’ face went up in flames, and he struggled for composure though he knew she was only teasing him. People—females—simply didn’t tease him. He tried to respond with practiced nonchalance, but he feared he sounded just plain stupid.

  “Why do you say that?” he asked, then grimaced. He sounded like he was fishing for compliments.

  The Healer chuckled behind her hand. She quoted to him, “ ‘Oh my heart, my heart be still, is that my lover o’er yon green hill? Ah, my heart, my heart does sing, what joyous occasion this day brings. For ne’er have I beheld such a fine bodied lad, and ne’er have I seen such beauty he has—oh my heart, my heart be still, let it be my lover o’er yon green hill.’ “

  Valerius could no longer meet the Healer’s twinkling eyes by the time she’d finished translating the song. He turned away to view the scenery around the lake, but he knew that her gaze was still riveted upon him, for he felt the weight of its languorous heat in the cool autumn morning.

  They spent the better part of the morning strolling around the lake, Wan’er acting as tour guide and introducing them to the inhabitants of the Sanctuary, the history behind the various landmarks and architecture, and the myths about the West Lake itself. In one such legend, the lake was said to be a reincarnation of a famous Chinese beauty from ancient times. Gazing surreptitiously at Rain, Valerius thought the story might have been about her, for no other beauty could match the enchantment and serenity of the West Lake.

  For lunch, they had a picnic beneath the Leifeng Pagoda. Midway through the meal, however, the Healer rose to greet a long line of children who approached, strung together with some sort of silk rope around each of their waists. At the end of the snake-like procession was an elderly woman in a Buddhist nun habit who smiled in greeting. She and Rain conversed quietly in Chinese while Wan’er also finished up her boazi and went to join them.

  “It is the day for the children’s annual check-up,” Ayelet explained to Sophia and Valerius, who watched the proceedings curiously. “Wan’er told me that every year on this day, the orphans in the surrounding villages travel here to see Rain so that she can give their health a boost and rid them of any ailments. They cannot afford to go to the clinics in town, nor do they have time to wait sometimes for days to be seen by a physician. So they come to the Sanctuary to see Lady Rain who doles out magical kisses that make them all better.”

  Valerius looked at her disbelievingly at the “magical kisses” remark, but Ayelet only smiled. “To children, a mother’s kiss is imbued with magical powers. To these orphans, Rain is like their fairytale mother for the kindness and affection she brings into their lives. And coincidentally, her kisses do indeed heal, if she harnesses her Gift to transfer energy through it.”

  Valerius could relate to that. He could use a billion, trillion magical kisses himself.

  While the children lined up in an orderly fashion before the pagoda, Rain and Wan’er set up their “clinic” within. Valerius watched the Healer do her duty with loving care, as generous with her time and patience as she was with the magical kisses she smothered the children with, making many giggle with delight.

  And for the first time since his human boyhood, the warrior found his heart clench with yearning. What he’d give to be smothered in Rain’s tender kisses. Hell, what he wouldn’t give just to get one kiss.

  Tiny, sticky fingers pulling at the fabric of his trousers pulled his attention away from the beautiful Healer. Sitting on the grass beside the pagoda, long legs stretched before him, elbows on his slightly bent knees, he was eye level with a thumb-sucking little girl with what looked to be a disproportionately large head atop a bone-thin body. She popped her thumb out of her mouth with a wet noise and held both arms toward him expectantly.

  Valerius stared at her motionlessly, uncertain what he should do.

  She tilted her head sideways as if in thought, then seemed to make a decision. If the mountain wouldn’t come to her, she was going to take herself to the mountain. She waddled bravely between the warrior’s spread legs and crawled unceremoniously into his lap. She grabbed one of his forearms with both little hands, surprisingly strong in their sticky grip, yanking a few of his hairs in the process, and pulled his arm around to hold her securely in his lap, where she wriggled around to find a comfortable position and promptly stuck a thumb back into her mouth.

  Once in a while she would look up at him to see if he paid attention to her, briefly meeting his consternated eyes. Satisfied that he was focused on her, she would pat his forearm with wet little smacks as if petting a well-behaved dog.

  Before Valerius knew it, two more pint-sized kids joined her in his lap, and then two more, sitting by his booted feet, seemingly fascinated with his utilitarian footwear. Pretty soon, he was crawling with children, like a hill conquered by an army of ants.

  “I see the children, too, have fallen under your spell,” came the teasingly warm voice of the Healer.

  Valerius avoided her gaze to hide his embarrassment. Some mighty warrior Pure-male he must have looked.

  “You must like them too,” she said, her voice growing softer, “for you let them touch you freely.”

  Valerius flicked his eyes to her in surprise and was nearly bowled over by her next words—

  “How I envy them.”

  Without waiting to see his response, she went back to the makeshift clinic within the pagoda.

  Yes, Valerius thought with some amazement at himself, he liked children very much. He’d always liked children, and they seemed to be naturally drawn to him in return. Perhaps they viewed him as just another child, albeit a hell of a lot bigger. They represented to him the innocence he’d lost. They represented all the good and pure things in life.

  The laughter of children was what he fought to protect.

  And protect them he did, literally later that evening, when his group of four Pure Ones chaperoned Sophia and the twenty odd orphans along with the elderly nun to the street festival in an old part of Hangzhou city.

  The festivities were in full swing by the time they arrived, thousands of lanterns lighting up the approaching night. Lanterns on towers, outside every window of every house, strung up on telephone poles and wires so that they appeared to be floating in the darkening sky. Every man, woman and child carried a lantern of their own, Valerius’ entourage carrying lanterns shaped like animals. As they strolled down the crowded night market streets, all that could be seen was a meandering parade of happy turtles, rabbits, birds, pandas, and other more mythical creatures of old.

  Valerius felt particularly proud that he’d helped Rain and Wan’er make these lanterns by hand for most of the afternoon. He ended up gluing more of his thick fingers than the delicate rice paper the lanterns were made out of, but the children didn’t seem to mind if the animals he made were missing an ear or tail. They accepted his awkward creations with effervescent joy, hugging him and kissing him in eagerness and gratitude.

  It was by far the best day of his existence.

  As the children ran around to browse the multitude of shops and stands, and sample the treats that were cooked right before their eyes, Valerius lagged behind to gain a better view of their surroundings and position. He took in each and every face and form with practiced skill, gauging potential threats and danger with unparalleled experience.

  As if the human residents and visitors sensed the powerful and lethal energy around the warrior, they inadvertently gave him wider berth so that despite the rush and the throngs of people, Valerius stood almost alone, untouched, unbothered, against the side wall of a candy shop.

  Until the Healer decided to join him.

  “Have you a celebration like this where you hail from?” Rain asked him as she came to stand beside him, forcing him to ta
ke a step back to keep at least three feet of distance between them.

  “No,” he replied with some awe, “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “Wait until you see the fire dragon dance,” she told him, sounding as if the display was more than worth the wait.

  “What is the festival about?” he asked, more to distract himself from her nearness than out of sheer curiosity.

  “Oh, many things,” she answered. “It’s a celebration of a fruitful harvest, a time to be with one’s family and thank the gods for our fortunes. A time of reunion and love-making.”

  “What?” Valerius startled at her last words and almost lost his footing.

  She kept her gaze on the children and smiled. “There’s a legend behind the Moon Festival, as it is sometimes called, hence all the yuebing you see, the moon-shaped cakes with red bean filling and a salted duck egg yolk inside.” She gestured to the very shop they stood beside, and Valerius saw what she meant by the rows of golden moon cakes on tantalizing display.

  “Legend says that over four thousand years ago, there was a young couple who served the Emperor of Heaven. The husband, Houyi, was an archer of unrivaled skill, and his wife, Chang’e, was a lady of surpassing beauty. The earth at the time thrived on the heat from ten suns in the form of three-legged birds that resided in a mulberry tree in the eastern sea. Each day, one bird would run across the sky, bathing the earth with its warmth and light. But one day all ten birds ran across the sky, surrounding the earth in a ring of fire. To end the devastating drought that ensued, the Emperor of Heaven commanded Houyi to shoot down all of the birds save one, and the archer carried out his task successfully.”

  No longer listening just to distract himself, Valerius found that he was entranced by her story, by her soft lilting voice. Unconsciously, he moved a step closer, until she could feel the heat of his body in the chilly night.