The Seer's Choice: A Novella of the Golden City Read Online Free Page A

to hurt .
    Genoveva closed her eyes and matched her breathing to his. She felt the center of power in his throat. He was strong, in the prime of his life, with a desire to serve. She moved her focus to between his eyes, feeling his intellect. He was a smart man, clever. The center of power in his chest told her he was compassionate. Again, not a surprise. She could feel his lungs moving. Steady. He was calm. The center of power in his belly spoke mildly of hunger . . . he hadn’t eaten since just after Mass. But it also told her he was driven. He’d made captain at an early age without any family ties or money, she’d heard. She forced herself to move her focus, sensing the center of power in his groin. He was a passionate man, although he’d not indulged that passion for some time now, something she surely did not need to know about him. Aware that her cheeks must be flaming, she felt both the centers of powers at his base and the crown of his head.
    “Now what?” she asked uneasily. She was far more familiar with him now than she was with any man she’d known before.
    “Now draw his energies toward you,” Mrs. Anjos said. “Through your hand if you must. You need to pull it into your chest and hold it there.”
    Genoveva looked up at his face again. He was waiting, calmly.
    She imagined his energies like strands of light, threads on which she could pull. She stepped back, appalled, her eyes going to Mrs. Anjos’ pale face. “I can do more than just heal him, can’t I?”
    “Yes,” the woman said. “A great deal more.”
    Captain Pinheiro’s eyes opened. He didn’t say anything. Just watched the two of them.
    Genoveva looked at Mrs. Anjos, finally understanding. She could affect his drive, his passions, his heart and his mind. She could twist his senses and cloud his thoughts. This was how Mrs. Anjos made prisoners talk; she used her healer’s powers much like a sereia’s call , coaxing, convincing. But if needed, she could force their capitulation.
    “If you’re rushing,” Mrs. Anjos added, “you can’t have finesse. Go straight for his navel. That will rob him of his drive.”
    Genoveva looked up at the captain and reached out again, her fingers at his throat. Before she could lose her nerve, she tugged on those threads of energy running through him.
    Genoveva gasped, suddenly warm all over. The heat of his energies burned through her, trapped inside her body now, surely too much for her to contain. Sweat trickled down her back.
    Captain Pinheiro fell back onto the sofa, rolled to the floor, and lay there unmoving.
    She gazed down at him, stunned. What have I done ?
    Mrs. Anjos grasped her arm, yanking her toward Pinheiro’s slumped body. “Give it back!”
    She understood what the woman wanted. Genoveva knelt and laid a hand to Pinheiro’s throat again. Then she forced his energy back through that link into his body, trying to put everything back the way it was before, to balance his energies again. The heat blazing through her slowly faded, and she let her hand drop away from his throat.
    His eyes fluttered open. He looked dazed, but he was breathing normally. “I told you that you would stop,” he said in a rasping voice.
    “I could have killed you,” she protested, heart beating hard and mouth dry. “Don’t you understand? I could have killed you.”
    He shook his head.
    “I would not have let you do so,” Mrs. Anjos said sternly. “You took too much, but now you know how that feels . The next time, be more delicate.”
    Pinheiro pushed himself up until he sat on the sofa. He took a deep breath. “No, Miss Jardim. Do not be more delicate. If someone attacks you, that’s exactly . . . exactly . . . what I want you to do to them. Leave them lying on the floor and run.”
    She gazed down at him. His shoulders were slumped. He looked exhausted now, far more so than when he’d run off the football field earlier that day. I did that to him . Even though she’d put back whatever energy