Excerpt: Sexual Healing

Now that we’ve turned in the notorious Psychics In Space story, I thought I’d post a little bit of it here.  Here’s the first part of the first chapter, in case anyone would like to get a feel for this very-different-for-us universe. 

In another place and time, Noelle would have been a whore. On the space station Elysium she’s a healer, a receptive psychic whose ability to bring peace to the mind and heart makes her a valuable and prized companion. With war raging through the galaxy, her skills are needed now more than ever, but the battered men and women who come to her for comfort have left their mark on a soul growing steadily wearier.

Damon Antema is one of his squadron’s most skilled warriors, an elite fighter pilot whose powerful psychic gift makes him a formidable weapon. When an ambush destroys most of his unit, Damon’s mind threatens to shatter under the stress. Losing himself in Noelle and comforting her in return may give him the balance he needs, but letting go of her when it’s time to return to the front lines isn’t nearly so attractive.

The only way to keep from losing the woman who gives him the strength to fight is to convince her there are plenty of people who need her compassion and strength in the midst of battle–starting with him.

# # #

Damon stretched the tense muscles of his shoulders and tried again to focus on the crystal in front of him.  It was no use.  “It isn’t working.”

Fear flashed in the healer’s bright blue eyes, fear she hadn’t been able to contain from the first moment he’d met her.  Janie was a solid psychic with a decent enough reputation among the warriors, but she was clearly awed within an inch of terror by Damon’s presence.

She cleared her throat and somehow managed to get that skittish look out of her eyes, but her voice still held a tense edge.  “I know you’re frustrated, Captain, but before I can help with the worst of the buildup I need to find your center.”

He couldn’t suppress a growl as he stood and paced across the sparsely furnished room.  “My center almost got blown up by a handful of strike fighters last week.  And every time you tell me to close my eyes and visualize my pain in that damn crystal, all I see is half a dozen of my best friends not making it back.”

Janie leaned forward and pushed the crystal slowly to the side.  Those nervous blue eyes watched him as she turned her hands palm up and let them rest on the table. “Come and sit back down, then.  We’ll try another way.”

He’d gone too long without releasing the rage and violence that built in him when he fought.  He could feel it festering inside him, and he feared it was too late.  They had no healers strong enough to bear the brunt of his emotions, certainly not the fragile, scared woman in front of him.  “No.”

The tiniest hint of steel flashed in her eyes.  “I can do my job, Captain.”

The blatant challenge scraped his raw nerves.  He clenched his jaw and sat down again, pressing his palms down against hers.  “Can you?”

He let go.  Not of everything, not even much, but just enough to give the woman an unadulterated taste of the agony he carried.  She gasped, the sound raw and pained, and her fingernails dug painfully into his skin as her hands convulsed.

For one second, one long, interminable second, he thought she might recover. That she might be strong enough to find her balance and be the other half every warrior needed from time to time.

Then she screamed, the agony he felt trembling and raw in her voice.

Damon snatched his hands back and curled them around the edge of the table to hide their trembling.  He didn’t move for several heartbeats, then sprang to his feet and stalked to the communications panel by the door.  “Get a medic in here.”

The panel beeped, and a vaguely concerned voice answered.  “What’s–?”

He smashed his palm against the print reader.  “Medic.  Now.”

A soft, mechanized voice confirmed his identity, and something on the other side of the intercom clattered.  “Yes, Sir, Captain Antema.  Medic’s on the way.  Is Janie–”

He glanced over to where she lay, sprawled on the nondescript carpet, pale and sweaty.  “She’s in shock.  Hurry.”

He couldn’t touch her.  Her shields would likely be down, and he couldn’t risk another jolt to her system, so Damon took a thin, insulated throw from the sofa and used it to turn Janie onto her back and elevate her legs. “Come on, lady.  They’re on their way.  Just hang on, all right?”

“Elysium.”  The word slipped from her as a shaky whisper.  “You–you need to…to go to the Garden.”

Elysium was one of the larger stations, and it housed the healers’ training facility. “Not sure if they can help me now, sweetheart.”

She slapped his leg, her fingernails scraping over the fabric of his pants. “Magda.  Cait.  Noelle.  One…one of them…” A shudder wracked her body.  “Now.  You have to go now.”

Her insistence tugged at something inside him, and he nodded.  “Okay, calm down.  I’ll do it.”

“You’re lying.”  Janie closed her eyes and let her hand fall to the floor as hurried footsteps sounded on the other side of her door. “Stupid.  Stupid to lie to a psychic.”

“You said you could handle my shit.  Guess now we’re even.”

The door whispered open and booted feet fell heavy against the metal floor behind him.  Janie’s eyes fluttered open, and her gaze sought his.  She looked at him with compassion, with too much understanding and too much pity.  She would know exactly why he didn’t want to risk a visit to the Garden, would know that fighter pilots with their reputation for emotional instability couldn’t afford to have too many marks on their psych records.

She knew, but she proved herself a healer first when the medic dropped to his knees at her side.  Ignoring the man’s concerned attentions, she reached up and curled her fingers around his wrist so hard the medic hissed in a pained breath.

And then she endangered his entire career with one breathless statement. “Healer’s discretion.  Captain Antema is ordered to Elysium.”

#

With her eyes closed, Noelle could almost believe her garden was truly a paradise.

It was almost perfect.  An elaborate fountain bubbled cheerfully in the center of her courtyard, surrounded by lush grass grown at great expense and tended every morning by gardeners who drifted in and out while she slept.  Sunlight shined warm on her face and a perfect breeze teased at the loose strands of her hair.  Birds sang from the trees that rose beyond the wall which kept her haven private.

It was almost perfect.  Almost.  If she opened her eyes she’d notice the little details.  The dirt that had been dislodged from its bed to reveal the rough metal ground of the space station.  The leaves that didn’t quite cover the speakers that mimicked the sounds of the outdoors.  Even the sun and breeze were fake, each controlled by a small panel next to the door that led into her lavish apartments.

But with her eyes closed, it was paradise.

Besides, she didn’t need her eyes to follow the path of her visitor. Dana Casey was a woman in agony, and her pain vibrated in the air around her with such intensity that Noelle’s heart ached in sympathy. She’d spent the bulk of her rage already, unleashing it in an uncontrolled burst that would have incapacitated a novice healer.

It did incapacitate a healer, she reminded herself as she listened to the soft sound of Dana’s heavy boots marking a path from one end of the garden to the other.  Guilt was as strong as pain now, guilt that Noelle had slowly leeched away over the course of the past hour.

With one last steadying breath, Noelle opened her eyes and watched as Dana stalked toward her.  The woman was small, petite even, but physical strength was incidental to warriors.  Dana was one of the elite, one of the best, and somehow Noelle had to remind her of that.

The shorter woman stopped a few feet away and shook her head.  “I can’t do it.  I won’t.”

“You have to, Dana.  You have to see Joseph again, and you have to trust yourself.”

She snorted.  “After what happened last time?  Don’t bet on it.”

Sarcasm and anger filled her voice, but it was the jagged fear that Noelle focused on.  “What happened to him was his responsibility as much as yours. He knew he wasn’t in any shape to heal you.  And if he had been, you wouldn’t have hurt him.”

Her eyes were huge and gray under her cap of short blonde hair.  “I was too rough, and I knew it.  I knew it was going to be intense.  There was so much built up, and I–I just lost it.”

“I know, Dana.”  Just as she knew that Joseph blamed himself for making a poor choice out of fear and jealousy.  So much guilt, so much pain, and at the root of it all…

Noelle closed her eyes and opened herself fully to the woman in front of her.  Pain washed through her first, the lingering wounds left on a soul who fought day after day in a bloody war no one could win.  Guilt followed, but tangled up with the guilt was the emotion she’d hoped for.  “You love him.”

Dana rubbed her hands over her face.  “You can say that he pushed himself because he didn’t want me to go to someone else.  He told me as much himself.  But that doesn’t change the fact that I hurt him.  I could have killed him.”

There were a hundred things she’d been trained to say, and all of them were designed to wean Dana away from Joseph, to subtly influence the warrior who had the power and the right to deprive the Garden of one of its most necessary assets.  Love is a liability.  Your duty is to all warriors. How many times had she heard those words?

A dozen.  A hundred.  But not enough to erase the memory of Joseph’s agony when he thought he’d lost the woman he loved.  The words escaped Noelle before she could stop them, words that would earn her a stern reprimand if Dana ever repeated them.  “Take him with you.  Take him away from the Garden.”

Hope flared, but Dana quickly closed her eyes.  “He has a job here, a duty–”

“He needs you.  He can’t do his duty or his job if he’s sick from needing you.”  Noelle reached forward and curled her fingers around Dana’s hands. It hurt to take the rest of the woman’s pain into herself, but she’d long since learned how to lock it away from her heart.  And with the weight of her misery lifted, the tiny flickers of hope grew steadily stronger.

She squeezed Dana’s hands and smiled.  “Talk to him.  That’s all I ask, Dana.  Just…talk to him.”

“Okay.”  Dana spoke as if it hurt to do so, but she nodded and repeated the word.  “I’ll talk to him and–and we’ll see.”

Her booted footfalls hadn’t yet faded when the communication panel behind Noelle chimed and a computerized voice announced an incoming transmission.

Dana had left through the small door in the garden wall that led to the corridor beyond.  Noelle used the other door, the one that led to her sitting room.  Placing her hand on the small panel next to her writing desk pulled up the display screen, which flashed once before displaying her mentor’s.  “Sorry, Aisha.  I’m here.  My last session ran long.”

“Understandable.  How is Captain Casey?”

“Better.  Guilty, mostly, but that’s to be expected.”

“Her commanding officer will expect your report.”  Aisha smiled gently. “I’ve received another emergency assignment I think would suit you, but I’ll understand if you need some time to rest.”

A job that suited her meant an active one, pain she could deal with head on instead of talking circles while trying to leach the excess emotion away. After the morning she’d had, she needed something straightforward.  “No, I should be fine if I take a few hours first.  Did you send the file?”

“I did.”  Aisha bit her lip.  “Noelle, you should know Captain Antema has spent too long on the front lines without respite, but that’s not all.  You won’t find this in his file because the details are classified, but most of his unit was killed last week.  They were ambushed while flying exercises.”

Sympathy made her chest ache as she nodded once.  “I understand.  In light of that… six hours.  Give me six hours to prepare.  I assume he’s evidenced a preference for release through sex?”

“He has.”

At least that was something she could handle. “You’ll need to clear the rest of my schedule, then.  Both tonight and tomorrow.  And at least half a day of rest afterwards.”

“Already done.  And Noelle?”  Aisha nodded once.  “Be careful.”

It was the first time Noelle had ever seen Aisha looking concerned.  She ignored the flutter of foreboding in her stomach and lied.  “I always am.”