"Am I hurting you?"
"No," he said. And yes. Just put your hands back and stop touching me Gabe repressed a laugh. Instead, he focused on regaining control of his body. He was a soldier, over six hundred years old. This reaction to a woman was ridiculous. The heat sliding through his body was probably just a normal Shadow result of healing. If he ignored it, it would wear off when she finished her work.
"I'm almost done," she said. "Your body does a remarkable job of healing. Do all Warders heal this fast, or just soldiers?"
"You’re sure I’m a Warder?” Gabe turned his head to look at her face, careful not to move his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if he was teasing her or challenging her. Celeste’s expression made him feel, for a moment, like a ten-year-old boy.
"Of course," she said. "Who else would know I'm a Shadow?"
"Any of numbers of creatures in our world would know what you are.”
“I’m not a child. I’ve seen a Warder before.”
“If you know what I am," he asked, "why haven't you run screaming yet?"
"Why haven't you?" she challenged.
"You hardly look dangerous enough to send me running."
"If you truly know what a Shadow is, you should know that I'm more than dangerous enough to send any creature running."
With a final stroke across his now smooth shoulder, she stood. He watched her, aware she spoke the truth. If half of what he'd learned of Shadows was true, this tiny woman was an immense threat. Her ability to access and control energy meant that her defenseless appearance was a lie. She could kill with her mind. Boil his brain in his skull, stop his heart with a thought, collapse the tower around them. Logic told him it couldn't be that simple. She'd been in trouble with the Vorati. If Shadows were that powerful, she would have dropped the entire nest with a thought. Regardless, she was a potential threat. Gabe found he wasn't inclined to let that chase him away. The familiar energy signature in the woods, the possibility that he might have found his quarry after so long, meant that he wasn't going anywhere. Whether she liked it or not.
"How long has that nest been here?" he asked.
Celeste appeared relieved at the abrupt change of subject. She busied herself cleaning up after her healing. Gabe headed to the kitchen. He could use coffee. And some physical distance. Her touch still echoed beneath his skin, gradually spreading its seductive warmth.
"The best I can tell, about three months. I think they've taken over a family that lived a mile west of where we saw them. It took me a over a month to notice. The family kept to themselves more than most around here. I didn't do any trading with them, so I didn't have regular contact." A sigh escaped.
"I doubt you could have stopped the infection. Not on your own," he said, recognizing guilt when he saw it.
"Maybe not," she acknowledged. "More often it seems that once they've got their claws in, we can't get the Vorati out. And if we do, they dive right back in as soon as we move on."
"The humans leave too many cracks."
"Do you really think so?" Celeste paused in her path across the room to throw out bloody bandages. "I don't think humans have changed that much. Not in my lifetime. Some are good, some aren't. Most are somewhere in between. I think its the Vorati that have changed. I don't see them as often as I used to. They don't come up on the mountain—not enough food. But those I see feel more…potent."
"Maybe." Gabe didn't want to discuss changes to the Vorati. "Are you up here alone?"
***
Celeste froze at the question. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised. It was a reasonable thing to ask. He was a soldier. She wasn't exactly an ally. They had the enemy camped nearby. Yet the question made her feel strangely vulnerable. Despite her earlier threat, she wasn't sure she could win in a fight against this Warder. Powerfully built, he was tall and packed with lean muscle. She'd seen him take down two Vorati in less than a minute. Celeste wasn't a fighter.
She'd trained over the years, once it became apparent she'd be living alone. If she'd had better control over her abilities she would have been unstoppable. Size didn't matter with the Shadows. Their power came from control over energy. And Celeste was a washout. At its best, her control was erratic. She could channel energy into kicks and punches. Run faster and for longer than a human. Jump higher. She was a match for a human body pumped up by Voratus infection. But she wasn't the superhero she should be. Which made her more than a little defenseless against this Warder.
On the other hand, she'd felt him. Touched him, all the way to his soul. It shouldn't have happened, not while healing him. Not when she wasn't looking for it. Just as when she'd touched him in the woods his energy had reached for her. The moment her fingers met his skin for the healing, his essence had been there, moving up her hand, coating her skin in Gabriel and sinking deep. All the way to the core of her being. He was still there, a dark, vibrant power feeding her from the inside. Even more disconcerting, her own energy had responded, reaching for him in return.
During a healing, she kept her energy on the surface unless the wound was deep. Gabe's bullet had passed through his body, but that didn't explain what had happened. Her healing should have stayed isolated to the wound itself. Instead, her power had spread, invading the innermost parts of his body, from his flesh to his soul, spreading everything that was Celeste along the way. Taken by surprise, she hadn't even tried to stop it. Then she hadn't stopped because it had felt so good to twine herself with him, to work her way into his flesh and bone as if she belonged there. It hadn't helped that his skin had been so warm, stretched over such a strong body. When was the last time she'd touched a half-naked man? Years. Too many years. And here he was, this appealing, extremely fit man. Bursting with vitality, and letting her put her hands all over him. Just then, she couldn't have said what she liked more. His clear gray eyes, the strong muscles outlining his spine, or his distinctive energy signature humming inside her body.
Celeste remembered lust. While she was choosy in her lovers, a woman didn't reach close to four hundred years without acquiring some experience. Even if she had spent the past fifty years isolated on this mountain. No denying that part of this was the normal attraction of a healthy woman for an appealing man. But what happened when they touched had nothing to do with lust. That was something else, something she didn't understand. A little frightening. More than a little irresistible.
Just thinking about it, her cheeks flushed pink. At once the most intimate and strange thing she'd ever experienced. She never should have let it happen. She'd sensed no evil in him. Darkness, yes. This man had lived a life filled with pain. But he held no cruelty or malice. Celeste knew that as well as she knew that she wanted her hands on his body again. Not to get too far ahead of herself. First, she had to decide if she was going to trust him.
He waited for her answer without pushing, busy rummaging through her cabinets. Funny how it didn't bother her in the slightest that he'd made himself at home. Her mouth decided to act before her brain had finished processing.
"Yes, I live up here alone," she said, watching for his response. His eyes flashed. Celeste's stomach tightened. She hoped she hadn't made a mistake. To cover her unease, she finished throwing out the bloody gauze and moved into the kitchen.
"Why? I thought most Shadows lived in the Sanctuaries."
"What are you looking for?" Celeste gestured to his search through her cabinets.
"Coffee."
"Sit down, I'll get it. Are you hungry?" A glance at the faint light outside told her it was nearing her normal dinnertime. "I hadn't planned much for dinner, but I can put something together." Gabe grinned at her. Twice she'd seen that expression on his face and both times his grin had chased the dark from his eyes. Like he needed anything to make him more attractive. She repressed a sigh.
"I could always eat." He declined her invitation to sit, instead leaning against the counter. Sensing activity in the kitchen, Fitzwilliam left his sprawl by the fire and took a seat beside Gabe, alert for any scra
ps. Once upon a time, Celeste had dropped a hamburger on the floor. Fitz lived in the hope it would happen again.
Celeste's small propane fridge didn't hold much, but she happened to have a few pork chops she'd defrosted. It paid to have friends with livestock. Given her infrequent grocery deliveries, she appreciated fresh eggs and a packed freezer. She started the kettle on the propane stove and set up the french press for coffee.
"So why are you here alone?" Gabe asked again. It had been too much to hope that he would drop his questions.
Celeste held up one finger in his direction while she contemplated the contents of her pantry. She liked to cook. Loved it, actually. Cooking for one meant that she ended up eating the same thing for days on end. Her normal approach to meals was more like foraging. Gabe was a big man with a lot of muscle to feed. He needed a proper meal. She set water to boil, then pulled potatoes out of a bin in her pantry. This time of year she was short on fresh veggies, but there were some leftover stewed greens from her winter garden in the greenhouse out back. She pulled out the ingredients for honey mustard sauce and set about seasoning the chops.
She missed having guests. Her friends visited when they had time. But they had responsibilities in the real world. When she'd lived among her own people, Celeste had been known for her parties. The food, the music, the people she cared for all together, talking and laughing. Everyone had hobbies. Celeste's was entertaining. A formal dinner party, a backyard cookout—she didn't care. Now she was lucky if she had a single person for company. Most of the time she was alone with Fitz. Though she was sure he wished she'd cook him a real dinner every night instead of dog food and a few scraps. She smiled at the thought of feeding her huge dog a dinner plate each night.
Looking over, she was surprised to see Gabe absently rubbing Fitz's head. Fitz leaned into Gabe's thigh. He normally didn't take to strangers, especially men. He wasn't on a hair trigger, but he was very protective. Over the years more than a few people had mistaken Fitz's calm demeanor for general friendliness. They'd been wrong. Celeste knew her dog would die for her. His easy acceptance of the Warder was disconcerting. The kettle whistled. Pausing in peeling the potatoes, she filled the french press with water and set out two mugs.
"How do you take your coffee?" she asked.
"Black is fine."
"Of course. If you like it strong, it'll just be another minute or two."
"I like it strong," he said.
"So do I," she responded. Then she heard what she'd said. Another flush rose to her cheeks. Annoying. Living on her own eroded her social skills. The Warder was a soldier. Likely, he didn't even see her as a woman, much less notice the suggestive nature of her comment. She needed to relax.
Celeste busied herself finishing the potatoes and dropping them in the boiling water. Setting the timer on the stove, she poured them both coffee and took a seat on one of the tall stools at her island. Gabe picked up his mug and drank, waiting for her to speak.
"I've lived in these mountains since the early sixties. Nineteen sixties."
"Why?" Gabe asked. He watched her with narrowed eyes.
"I have a problem with my…" She paused. She'd never explained this to an outsider. Ever. Gabe might understand what a Shadow was, but he didn't know precisely how they worked. "My abilities."
"You said you're a healer." His eyes narrowed further. "That seemed to work just fine." As if to make a point, he lifted his coffee cup using his formerly injured arm and drank.
"My healing is fine. Not spectacular, but strong enough." She decided it made the most sense to tell him everything. Secrets were policy, but keeping them wasn't going to do her any good. If she convinced him to stay and help her with the nest, he needed to know what he was dealing with.
"I have a problem with electricity," she said. At his look of confusion, she knew he'd made the common mistake of thinking electricity and energy were the same. "I have a low to moderate level of power. I can't move mountains, but my control is adequate in general. Where healing is concerned, my control is precise. But I can't handle electrical interference. At all."
"I thought all Shadows had problems with electricity," he said. "How are you different?"
"That's a myth. When we first come into our full power as children we need to be trained to deal with energy fluctuations. Electricity is harder to handle than other forms of energy. Our children go through a period when they should be kept away from small electronics. But the vast majority of Shadows are perfectly fine with electricity by the time they're twelve or so."
"Not you."
"No. I'm flawed. No one knows how to fix it. I can't handle any type of electrical interference."
"What happens to you if you're near electricity?"
"Nothing happens to me. I happen to everything else. The way my body processes electricity creates surges. I can't control it. And I've tried everything. I don't want to live in the middle of nowhere. But I can't be anywhere near sources of electricity. Do you know how much electricity there is in the world these days? Everything is plugged in. The last time I tried to go into town, I blew out the local transformer and fried every piece of wiring in the grocery store."
***
A flash of pity hit Gabe. Born into a world that had never imagined electrical power, he understood exactly how much things had changed. More than most, he could appreciate how Celeste's world must have shrunk in the past hundred years.
"So you're restricted to this mountain?" he asked. "Why not a small house without power in one of the Sanctuaries?"
"At first, when they brought electricity into the Sanctuary, that's what I did. But there was an accident."
She stopped speaking, appearing at a loss for words. Gabe found he didn't like the bleak expression on her face, the way her inner light had dimmed.
"What happened?" he asked. He watched her pull herself together, closing away whatever had upset her.
"I'd rather not speak about it." She didn't meet his eyes. This was the second time she'd gone prim on him. Gabe liked it. He preferred it to the sadness he'd seen a moment ago. But he needed to know her weaknesses if he was going to stay and chase the figure he'd seen in the woods. If he had to drag this Shadow back into her sorrow, he'd do it. He might regret it, but he'd do it anyway.
"I need to know what I'm dealing with, Celeste."
She looked away, lips in a tight line. "A child drowned," she said, her voice even and as emotionless as he thought she could manage. "She wasn't breathing. No heartbeat. I didn't think there was much hope, but we were doing our best. I managed to draw the water from her lungs and was performing CPR. Her heart wouldn't start."
Celeste smoothed her palms over the surface of the table, eyes still not meeting his. Gabe wanted her to look at him, wanted to see how badly this hurt her. The desire to take her hand in comfort surprised him. Sitting back, he crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't here to comfort anyone. She went on, a tiny tremble in her calm voice betraying her emotions.
"Very few Shadow healers have the electrical precision necessary to jumpstart a stopped heart. I do not. I have no control over electricity at all. We had a portable defibrillator in the infirmary. One of the first. Our head healer was very proud of it.
"He'd made it clear that the device should never be turned on if I was in the room. I'd never touched it. The last thing I wanted to do was try to use it on that child. But one of the junior healers thought he should power it up in case CPR couldn't get the child's heart to start. No one was thinking clearly. She was so young. Only three. Everyone loved her." Celeste stopped, pain leaking through the shield she'd wrapped around her emotions. Before Gabe could prompt her to go on, she took a deep breath and visibly pushed her pain back. "It was wet. In the room. They carried the girl from the pond and everything was wet. The power surge from the defibrillator was too much with all that water. The electricity jumped to me, and from me into the girl's body."
Gabe didn't need to hear any more. His imagination wasn't the most fe
rtile, but he could fill in the blanks. Too well. The child's body would have jerked and seized from the current flowing through Celeste. The sickening scent of cooking flesh combined with the acrid stench of burning metal and plastic would have filled the infirmary. To someone able to reach into a body to heal, it must have been a horror. Worse to have done it with no control, the electricity binding her hands to the body of the child until the current was cut.
Gabe wished he didn't have to push further. Wished he didn't have to know how isolated they were, if any Shadows would drop by or if Celeste was truly alone. He had an uncharacteristic urge to pull her into his lap. To hold her close and tell her it was alright. Daniel was the last person he'd had an urge to comfort. Since then, he hadn't allowed himself to connect with anyone enough to offer anything, much less comfort.
"That's terrible," he said. "But it doesn't explain why you're living in a tower on a mountainside, far from your people. You're too defenseless here."
"I killed a child," she said flatly.
"No, you didn't. You said the child wasn't breathing, had no heartbeat."
"Yes, but I'm a healer. I got the water from her lungs. I should have been able to get her heart restarted."
"How? You said few Shadows can restart a heart. How long had the child been without oxygen? Can you heal brain damage?" He knew he was too blunt, but he was beginning to get angry. While the electrical surge had ended the chance of reviving the child, the fact remained that the child had already been dead. Unless Celeste was leaving something out, the accident hadn't been her fault, yet she'd been exiled like a criminal.
"No," she said. "We can't heal brain damage."
"As far as I can see, the idiot who turned on the defibrillator is responsible. Didn't he know about your condition? Was it a secret?"
Shadow's Passion: The Shadow Warder Series: Prequel Novella Page 3
