down at just the right angle.
He inhaled. “Oh, fu—okay, okay. Let go.”
She increased the pressure the tiniest bit and blinked at him. “What?”
He grimaced. “So it’s not completely healed. I get it. Stop.”
Good enough. She ducked her head and tried to hide the slight smile playing on her lips.
When she looked up, he was studying the old shotgun leaning against the kitchen cabinet. His expression was serious as he glanced back at her. “You know how to use it?”
Genevieve snorted. “I can probably outshoot you.”
Alex’s eyes twinkled. “Them’s fightin’ words, sweetheart.”
She rolled her eyes and pressed a fresh bandage over his wound. He arched his back a bit, making it easier for her to wrap it around him. She didn’t realize how much she had to lean over him until she felt his breath on her neck.
Genevieve sat back and finished tying the bandage. “Are you thirsty?”
He suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Actually…”
“Yes?” she prompted when he trailed off.
“I—that is, I kind of need to, you know, use the bathroom. Do you have indoor plumbing?”
Genevieve cast him an exasperated glance. “Of course I do.”
“Just checking. Okay. Point me in the right direction.”
“You can’t get up!” She rested her hand against his chest. “I’ll get you a bedpan.”
The tips of his ears turned red. “I am not pissing in bed. If my injury looks as good as it does, I can get up and walk.”
“Your head was hit pretty badly.”
“I’m sure you rubbed whatever super-mushroom you used on my head as well.”
“Okay. Fine.” She pressed her hands against his chest. “If you can push against me and get up, I’ll let you use the toilet.”
He smiled grimly. It was clear that he was none too pleased that she was requiring the test, but he needed to stay prone for another day, at the very least.
If she could supply energy to heal, she could take it away without it adversely affecting her. Let’s see if you still remember how to do this.
Of course, he’d know for sure after this that she wasn’t normal. However, it was far better if he viewed her gifts negatively instead of positively. If her reputation as the creepy witch of the woods suffered, she’d have no protection.
Her hand heated, recapturing the little boost she’d offered him earlier.
When he pushed up against her, she had no trouble pressing back. Apparently, she’d given him even more than she realized. His body flinched and he collapsed against the mattress. Tiny beads of sweat popped out on his brow. He grimaced in pain. “What the fuck?”
She kept her hands on his chest and opened the door in her mind, pouring the fission of energy back into his body. The pain receded from his expression. Despite the way her head spun from the back and forth, it couldn’t have happened fast enough for her. There had been no joy in delivering that hurt to him.
It took her a couple of minutes to compose herself before she could look him in the eye. The anger was expected, a strong man’s response to having his pride compromised, but the shadow of fear just about punched her soul. “What are you?”
Her body stilled. Each beat of her heart sounded like cymbals crashing in her head. What, not who. Damn him to hell.
She was what they had made her. Him and his cronies.
Not him, reason interjected. Anyway, you should be happy. This is what you wanted.
Whatever. She allowed a mask of indifference to slip over her features. “I’m the little girl who just pinned a big bad cop to the bed. Looks like you’ll be using a bedpan.”
“Genevieve…”
She didn’t want to hear him. If it wouldn’t have looked childish, she would have pressed her hands over her ears and hummed.
Instead, she went through the back door to the room that had been added on to her home. The large closet in there held the nursing supplies her mother had been forced to use at the end of her life. She fetched what she needed and returned to