I pulled the last dregs of energy from the bottom of my weary soul and forced it out through my hands. They warmed against the chest of the frail, nameless child who was writhing in the grips of a fever dream. The miasma of sickness and darkening auras from dozens of stricken Normies overpowered the flickering fluorescent lights in the repurposed building. I had no idea exactly how many were laying on cots in the crowded room. Their faces and names had all blurred together after hours of energy healing.
The failing aura surrounding the boy under my hands lightened from muddy brown to bright mahogany as I pushed the energy into his struggling body. It wasn’t the shifting rainbow aura of a normal child, but it was an improvement. My vision blurred as I ran out of energy to give, and broke contact with a groan of exhaustion. It would have to be enough, for now.
A trembling hand tucked an escaped strand of black dyed hair behind my ear, then fell back to my lap. That motion was the extent of my ability at the moment. I needed a fix if I was going to keep working. The other, more traditional healers were doing their best. But everyone knew that my Other abilities were faring the best against this mystery plague, (even if they didn’t like to admit it).
I had a massive reservoir for magic and energy within me. It felt like a glittering soul gem sharing space with my heart normally. Right now, it was a dull, aching void. I instinctively brushed my hand against an orderly who was rushing past, her arms full of towels, seeking enough energy to steady myself. All I felt was the plastic of the hazmat suit. Damn things.
I’d have to find an Other to feed from. Everyone else in the building was wrapped in plastic. But I had to be careful. Under the terms of the Reemergence treaty signed by the Normie world leaders and the Grand Coven, my life was forfeit if anyone knew I was a dreaded redhead with the gift.
For my safety, I dyed my hair and let everyone think I was a hedge-witch, capable of minor energy manipulation and healing, nothing more. A Reiki healer on steroids basically. I was all too happy to let them think I was an Other they understood and trusted. I had even joined a local coven. As long as I never let one of them witness my feeding, no one would ever be the wiser.
Since I had to hide what I could do, the easiest way for me to fill my soul gem was through sex. People expected to feel drained and sleepy after a great round of lovemaking, so they didn’t notice the extra bit of tiredness due to my feeding. It helped that movement and strong emotions inspired by rigorous sex created additional energy that I could feed on. The only downside was that I couldn’t feed fully from the same person more than once a week without potential damaging side effects that were certain to be noticed.
So, I had a well-earned reputation for sleeping around. The Normies really frowned on me for that. If I was being fair, the Others weren’t much better. I tended to avoid seducing them for fear of their heightened senses catching what I was doing, so they had fewer reasons to throw shade my way.
My blurred vision sifted through the blended colors and vague shapes then finally latched onto a bright aura all the way across the room. It was very vibrant, and very male. While I may have flicked a few beans when I really needed the energy, I was attracted to men, so male made it much easier for my already cheerleading hormones. It had been months since I’d felt that delicious full feeling… Yeah… the dry spell was getting to me. It was past time to get back on the horse, so to speak.
As long as it wasn’t one of the witches who would notice what I was doing easiest, I could give my lucky Other victim a quickie in the broom closet, fill my soul gem, and leave him sleeping it off with a smile while I went back to saving sick kids. My heart might not be happy about the prospect, but the rest of me was too hungry to care. I felt my nipples harden and heat rise between my legs as I thought about what I’d denied myself for far too long.
I started planning my path to the source of the aura. I’d have to do a couple light feedings on my way there to make sure I didn’t literally fall into his arms. Not a sexy thing to do in a room full of sick people. And a risky thing too, since most of the Others present were witches. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
My mind was quickly pulled from plotting a seduction as I noticed the aura moving in my direction. Crap. It must be one of the doctors. I wobbled as I tried to stand. Even though I knew the price of overexerting myself, I hadn’t hesitated to push too far trying to save that kid. One does not simply refuse to help dying children. But man, did the price ever suck balls. I slumped back onto the edge of the bed, as my knees refused to get with the program.
I did NOT have time to fend off a fresh doctor insisting I go through testing to make sure Others were still immune to the plague. I couldn’t heal through a biohazard suit. I needed skin to skin contact, same as I did for feeding.
“C’mon, legs. Work with me,” I muttered under my breath. With a herculean effort, I tottered upright once more. My triumph was short-lived.
As my legs started to buckle, strong arms wrapped around my shoulders and scooped beneath my knees, lifting my tall frame as if I weighed nothing. The missing biohazard suit told me he was Other. The ease with which he lifted me said he was a were. The electric zing that shot through my body at his touch told me his name: Seamus. Something had changed about his aura since I saw him last or I would have recognized him at a distance, blurry vision or no.
Seamus wasn’t a healer of any variety. He was a werewolf. As son of the local pack’s Alpha and one of the pack land’s security team, he didn’t have a reason to be here. They must have called him in to help set up more beds, carry in supplies and other tasks that were made easier by his Other strength. He was well-liked in the community because he was more approachable than most of the pack. I shouldn’t have been surprised he was there.
I could pull energy from Seamus day after day and not risk killing him. Werewolves have a reserve of energy that I could not begin to tap the entirety of. He should have been my first call when I realized the enormity of the situation we faced. But no one ever accused a woman of being logical when she had a broken heart.
Seamus had been an unobtainable challenge to me at first. He hadn’t reacted at all to my casual feeding with a touch. An Other that I could safely tap was one hell of a temptation. But that famous Alpha self-control meant he didn’t fall for my usual tricks. I’d worn him down over time, or perhaps I’d just grown on him like a fungus. Whatever the reason, the resulting sex had been very memorable. What set him apart though, was being aware enough to stop me from sneaking out of his bed afterwards.
He had also initiated round 2. That was something I’d never experienced before in my life. He’d taken command, and hadn’t allowed me to deny what my body clearly wanted. Of course, that was without realizing the danger I’d represented. I’d obliged in spite of my better judgement, feeding without restraint, orgasming until it hurt. I blamed it on his Alpha presence, not on my own desires. When he fell asleep beneath me, I had panicked, but his aura was as bright as ever, unphased by my unrestrained feeding. He slept the normal sleep of a sexually satisfied male.
We had a blissful several months together until his parents caught us together with a surprise visit to his place. They didn’t approve of their son “slumming” with a non-were. Especially not with a whore like me. They informed him that I was like a cherry red moped. I might be fun to ride, but I was not something a person admitted enjoying in polite company. Seamus hadn’t bothered to defend me, or correct them. He’d asked me to leave, and I’d taken the hardest walk of shame ever.
I’d cursed myself for trusting him with my deepest secrets. Secrets that could get me killed. But mostly, I’d cursed myself for becoming vulnerable. In hindsight, I decided I hadn’t known how to deal with the intimacy of having the same partner over and over. I’d fallen for the novelty of the situation, not the man himself. And if I kept repeating that, I just might believe it… someday.
The days stretched into weeks, the weeks stretched into months, and silence had reigned. He never tried to call me, and I never mustered the guts to call him. I lived in fear that he’d share my secret, and spent a lot of time looking over my shoulder. I’d given up sex while my broken heart healed, and so I’d found myself at less than full strength when the plague hit and I was asked to help.
Frustrated tears streaked down my cheeks. I was in a catch 22. I needed the energy that he could provide me, and he knew it. He also knew I’d swallow my pride and hurt feelings in order to save those people downstairs. Especially the kids. Worse than knowing he knew these things was my own reaction to it all. He’d crushed me, humiliated me, and I was laying in his arms like a rescued damsel in distress while my cunt quivered hopefully? I really needed my head examined.
Seamus carried me away from the scents of antiseptic and sickness, apparently oblivious to my inner turmoil. His arms cradled me carefully as he walked, as if I were something precious and breakable. His tenderness made everything worse. Before I could give voice to my aching heart, he filled the silence between us.
“You know better than to push this hard, Lynn. I swear you did it just so I’d to come to your rescue, lass. Good thing I’m in a giving mood.” His usual slight accent whispered stories of his Scottish ancestry, but his voice was a bit growly. The growl caught my attention immediately. That wasn’t usual. Weres were known for being volatile, but Seamus never fit that stereotype before. Without looking at his face, I carefully touched his arm and pulled a trickle of energy to gauge his emotional state. I was prepared to pull more, and quickly, if he was losing control. I didn’t want to be in his arms if he was going to go furry.
He didn’t feel unstable. He felt… smug. The grin that split his chiseled features as I looked up at his face was heart-stoppingly wicked. The bastard had baited me into pulling energy from him. He wanted me to feed, alright. My hormones did a happy little jig as the words “he wanted me” flitted through my mind. My hormones were idiots.
He carried me up the stairs and into a repurposed storage room. The dimly lit area still hosted shelves filled with filing boxes, but a twin-sized bed and small nightstand had been wedged into the spaces between. He kicked the door closed behind us and lowered me to the stiff bed, sinking to his knees on the floor beside it.
His fingers were gentle as they brushed over my cheek. His touch was branded into my memory, and I trembled with remembered heat as his fingers trailed down to my neck. Desire coursed through me as my body geared up to stage a full mutiny over my mind. I tensed stubbornly, trying to rein in my overactive hormones.
I was going to give in. He knew it. I knew it. But he needed to know he wasn’t forgiven… My protest died on my lips as his finger pressed against them.
His lips brushed against my ear, sending gooseflesh skittering over my pale skin as he whispered, “Shhh, lass. Not now. I know you hate me. But you don’t need to like someone to feed from them. But you do need someone who won't figure out what you're doing. If you don't believe anything else, believe that I won't tell anyone your secret. I've had many chances to escape the ire of my family and blame it on your 'evil vampire ways' if I'd wanted to, Lynn."
"But I'm NOT a vampire. None of us are, Seamus. I don't drink blood, I don't go up in flames in the sun... I'm just an energy healer who can pull from more than my own reserves. They like energy healers, especially now."
"I know, lass. Why do you think I never said anything? The law is stupid. You guys were just a convenient boogeyman for the Grand Coven to make peace with the Normies. Witches and weres are no longer hunted thanks to that treaty. It that your kind didn't get the same protection. They should see, like I do, how much good your kind of Other can do for all of us.
So, now that you've remembered we're on the same side in this at least, please, let me help you. I'm not asking you to trust me with your heart. I'm asking you to let me help in the only way I can right now.”
When I voiced no further protests, his lips gently slid along my jaw, soft nibbling kisses blazing a trail to my mouth where they replaced his finger. I pressed into the kiss, my body all too happy to take control when my mind recognized the wisdom of his words.
He tried to break contact as I melted into him, but I knew his little tricks. I wasn’t having any of it. I held onto him as best I could, refusing to let him retreat as my lips claimed his in a fiery kiss. It wasn’t because I’d missed him or wanted him, or felt grateful for his help. It was because I wanted to regain control and just get this feeding over with. If I kept telling myself that, I might start to believe it.