Tainted, Book One: Possessed

6. I Don't Even Know Her Name

Kerry

Over the next few days, a Council member, two veteran wardens, a priest from the neighborhood chapel, and a couple of professors from the university tried to visit me.

Hank sent them all packing.

The only person he allowed in was this healer named August Richter. When I asked why, Hank propped one shoulder against the door to my bedroom. For a warden, he was real good about not coming in without permission, which I appreciated. I guess he knew I needed my space to be my space.

"You don't seem to be handling going cold turkey too well, so I invited him over."

"He brought me a pack of smokes?" I was hopeful, but shoulda known better.

When he shook his head, I sighed and slung my legs over the side of my bed and walked out to the living room.

I was wary at first, not used to anyone but Hank in my prison, but the healer seemed chill and wasn't pushy or loud. It helped that his white hair, round belly, and red cheeks made me think of Santa Claus.

"You know, even human prisons allow the inmates to have cigarettes," I grumbled.

"No more smoking, son." August shook his head. "I'll take away the addiction and you won't crave nicotine anymore."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Look at it this way," Hank grinned and I knew, just knew, he was gonna say something stupid. "Girls don't like kissing a mouth that tastes like an ashtray."

"Screw you," I grumbled.

The last thing I wanted was to kiss a girl. Just the thought of it made my stomach churn. First, no girl in her right mind would ever wanna kiss someone as broken as me. Second, I'd have to get close to one and that wasn't gonna happen.

I didn't want anyone to touch me.

Not ever again.

Which was gonna make this healing session kinda interesting.

August took all the fun out of it, though. Saying Hank had told him about my "issues" with personal space, he took a small bottle out of his pocket, screwed off the lid, and fished around inside it for a few seconds. When he pulled out a tiny wand with a ring on the end, Hank snickered.

I glared at them both.

"I poured my power into the bubbles," August explained. "You only need to stand there. It should heal up your mouth, too."

Okay, that would make it worth it. I could eat better if my teeth weren't all so busted up and rotted, so I nodded.

A bunch of golden bubbles floated straight toward my face. I waved one hand to bat them away and they burst all up and down my arm, stinging like hornets. Then the pain hit my mouth, and I had to hold back from hitting August in his mouth.

"Aha! I knew it would hurt less that way!" He looked proud of himself.

"Oh, it hurts all right." I managed not to add 'numb nuts,' probably because of his Santa Claus appearance, but I thought it. "I just got used to pain. Be glad it don't set me off no more. Even without my power, I go hard when I throw down."

August didn't seem to get what I was saying, but Hank cut his eyes at me and I knew he heard me loud and clear. Which was good. I wasn't big on repeating myself.

"August is the one who laid hands on you after the exorcism," Hank told me, "and drained himself down to nothing just to keep you alive."

My eyes narrowed. I'd seen nephs drain themselves before: It hurt and took days to recover from. Why would he do that for me?