A Late Summer Bloom (17 page)

Deep claw like cuts jutted along his sides, angry in color. The purple
and red wounds wrapped around him, as if he were still in the grasp of evil.
Noticing the healing process at work, she pulled the blanket the rest of the
way, to reveal his legs. Giselle saw the same knifelike wounds that marred his
once stunning body and legs.

With the onset of panic, she examined the rest of him, finding his
hands and arms scarred too. Looking to his face, she steeled herself for a
shock. Gently brushing his hair away from his cheek, she breathed a sigh of
relief upon gazing at her beautiful Julien, his perfect features untouched. But,
when she rolled his head to rest on the other side, it revealed the same
mauling evidence. Covering her face with her hands, she quietly crawled away
from him, crying into her hands.

He was beyond recognition. And she was responsible. While he fought a
valiant fight against the warlocks, she faints? Like a little girl? With an
undeniable reflex to run away, Giselle stood on shaky legs. Infused with a
sudden burst of energy, she quickly took off her clothing, checking her body in
the hopes that she too would bear a scar. She was disappointed to find she
endured not even a scratch.

As her persistent tears fell, she prayed to the gods to heal Julien.
She must let him rest, she must not disturb him. Hearing the water trickle and
echo throughout the cave, she turned to gaze at the pool. Maybe she should
clean his wounds? She walked to the edge of the pool. Surrounded by rock, it
reminded her of a huge bowl filled with muddy water. It called to her. Unsure
of its depth, she bent down, straining to see to the bottom.

As the tears fell from her eyes, they plopped into the pool,
transforming its contents from thick cloudy water, to crystal clear. Shocked at
the sudden change, she quickly sat up and studied the liquid. Trusting herself
enough to lean forward and gaze into its depths, she noticed the bottom. It
looked like a rounded marble bowl. Dipping her finger in to test the
temperature, she was surprised to find it very warm. She turned her gaze back
to Julien. He slept soundly.

Already naked, she convinced herself it was safe to go in. Giselle
wiped her tears and put her legs over the side, slowly lowering herself into
the pool. Sinking down into the pleasing water, she slowly waded out to where a
fine layer of steam gathered inches above the surface. Completely fascinated by
its velvety touch, she moved her arms gently. Gliding through the liquid, she swam
with ease, quite comfortable in the strangeness of her surroundings. The water
was still, completely still. There was no ripple, no movement of any kind.
Although she moved her limbs, it displayed a calmness that enveloped her, fueling
her with renewed vigor. Feeling her power from the depths of her being for the first
time in her life, she innately knew she could heal him. She would take away his
horrendous wounds or die trying. But first, she would practice.

Giselle was waist deep when she stood up straight and outstretched her
arms. With her palms down, her hands hovered inches from the surface. She chanted
under her breath, concentrating. When she felt the first tremble underneath the
pool, she smiled, lifting her hands higher. Commanding the water to rise up, the
trembling gave way to shaking.

“You must stop at once, Little Witch!” Julien’s voice sliced through
the silence.

The shaking diminished. Giselle swirled around, watching Julien, out of
breath and holding his side, stumble toward the water. His chest was bare, his
jeans shredded, his hair tousled and bloody. And still he made her heart pound.
Reaching the edge of the pools, he climbed in. “You mustn’t use your powers in
here. This is a holy cavern, one that must be held in the utmost of sanctity.”

She watched him move closer to her nakedness. A heat consumed her body,
pulling her toward him as he tried to explain.

“It is like that of a great cathedral to humans, the Vatican if you
must. The elements are held in the highest esteem to witches. It is where witches
derive their powers and travelers are healed.”

He was out of breath, his wounds turning a foamy white as the water
swallowed them up. Stopping a few feet from him, she watched him gaze at her
breasts. Giselle made no attempt to cover
herself
.

He smiled. “Little Witch—you—you’re beautiful.” She felt heat spread on
her cheeks.

He reached out to touch her when she noticed him look at his hands. He
looked up the length of his arms,
then
pulled back in
retreat. “My ugliness must surely repel you, but it was a necessity. The
healing pool will turn these wounds into scars.”

“The healing pool?”

“Yes, you’re standing in it. This is not water. It’s a mineral bath
that had taken centuries to fill. The limestone and stalagmite stones excrete
oils with special healing powers known only to our kind. I've been in caves all
across the south tending to my injuries. It’s a slow process but I’m healing.” He
looked at the water more intently. “But—I don’t recall the pools quite so clear
before.”

Giselle knew her tears had purified the pools. Did she deplete its
power or enforce it? “Is that why I felt renewed when I got into the water?”

“I would imagine so.”

She looked away in shame, unable to meet his eyes. “What in the world
would I have to recover from?”

He stepped closer, inches from her. “Look at me.”

She slowly turned her head, meeting his eyes.

“You saved my life,” he whispered.

The raw emotion in his voice was more than she could bear. Her body
responded with a tremor, a whoosh of raw urgency, as her skin prickled with the
tingling sensation of desire. Reaching out to him, he pulled back. “If you
don’t touch me, Julien—I swear I’ll combust. Please don’t turn away from me. Your
wounds don’t repel me. They only prove your greatness.”

He slowly shook his head no as he reached up, touching the side of his
marred face. “I cannot. I will not have you look into this face for your first
time.”

“Please.” She approached him, slowly. “For the first time in my
virginal existence my body is begging for relief.” He stood frozen when she pressed
her breasts against his chest. He flinched and pulled away. Walking out of the
pool, Julien said nothing.

Tears stung her eyes as rejection balled up in her chest, the pain so
real, she felt it burn her. Bereft and void of pleasure, Giselle felt numb. Watching
him walk away, she noticed him glance down at his body. Swiftly turning to face
her, his expression was one of wonderment, then horror, as he placed his hand
over his chest. His torso and chest were healed completely. No cuts, scabs or
scars. His other wounds remained, except for where she pressed her own body to
his. Rushing towards her, he stared at her breasts. He shouted, “No! No,
please. You mustn’t!” He stopped within a few feet of her, breathless and
afraid to touch her.

Giselle slowly glanced down at her breasts. She wore Julien’s wounds.
Every abrasion.
Every gash.

“Undo this immediately.” He pleaded.

She smiled. “I don’t know how. And even if I did, I wouldn’t.”

His voice sounded strained as he scolded her. “I demand you to undo
this immediately. You will not wear my scars on your beautiful body.”

Beautiful
body.
Standing
waist deep in the very clear water obviously left nothing to the imagination.
Reaching out to him, she touched his hand. A burning sensation made her gasp and
she looked at her hand. The transfer of a wound from his hand to her hand
happened within seconds.

He jumped back. “You mustn‘t touch me. Until we find a way to reverse
this, you must stay away from me. Do you understand?”

“Mm.”
Giselle wanted to take his pain away, wanted to wear the scars he
received protecting her.

He glared at her. “Are you listening?”

She glided toward him.

Continuing his retreat, he backed away from her. “I said do not come
near me. Do you not understand what I’m saying? What the hell do you think you’re
doing?”

Gracefully determined to catch up to him, she was unafraid of disobeying
his wishes.

“Stay away from me Giselle—I’m not joking.”

“I understand. You are not joking. You want me to stay away from you.
No touching.”

As the lower half of her body rose above the surface of the water,
beads of the minerals and oils clung to her skin, slowly dripping down her
legs.

Julien moved quickly, continuing to glance back, checking her progress.

Watching him nervously glance in her direction made her giggle.

With hurried steps he climbed out and held his hand up. “I’m asking you
to stop. Why are you giggling? It’s not funny.”

“I’m laughing because you’re afraid of me. Of me! And the fact of the
matter is
,
you will not win. I am determined to do
this. If I can take away the pain and scars you bear for me, I will do it. You
cannot stop me.”

“Like hell, I can’t.”

Witch against traveler? Better make it look
good, Giselle. Don’t let him see your uncertainty.

As she strode toward him, Julien focused. When she ran into an
invisible force field, she saw his satisfaction, how his ability to stop her
made him chuckle. “What’s the matter? Can’t get me?”

Giselle sucked in her top lip, amused by his confidence. “Is that a
challenge? You think you’re clever, traveler. Fortunately, I’ve done a bit of
practicing while you were out prancing about in the forest as a little bunny.” Raising
her hand, she quickly zapped his protective shield. Standing mere inches from
him, she reached out, just missing his arm. His expression made her burst out
with laughter.

As he dashed away, coming to rest near the edge of the pool, he laughed,
appearing to give in to her playfulness.
“Missed me, Little Witch.”
The words tumbled out like that of a child, carefree and funny.

The lighthearted moment made her realize she not only loved him, she
liked him. He was showing her a part of himself she had not known before. The
serious, angry traveler had a soft side. And that caused a wave of yearning to weasel
its way up her body. Giselle bit down on her lip trying to stop the erotic
images firing into her mind. They would need to be skin to skin.
And just maybe he’ll kiss me again. But how
can I get to him?

Suddenly she had an idea. She widened her eyes and clutched her stomach,
pretending she was in terrible pain. Julien’s reaction was one she’d hoped for.
He rushed to her side, careful not to touch. “What I can do?”

“You can touch me.” She tackled him, sending them tumbling into the
cavern pool. Giselle kept a strong hold on his arm while they tossed and turned
dunking under the water. Struggling to get free, Julien stood, pushing her
away. The laughter died down as he studied her. Giselle looked down at her
breasts. She was happy to see her injuries were gone. When she examined Julien,
his chest was still free from harm. But the rest of him was still injured.

“Julien, you must trust me. I can heal you. Look at me. I bear no
marks, not even a scar. It’s the pool. It heals me completely. You’ve asked me
to trust you. It was hard but I did. I need the same from you. You’re hurt, I
can heal you. I am the tenth power. If you believe in me, you will allow me to
do this for you. I have to. Please.”

He pursed his lips,
then
unenthusiastically
nodded his head, giving in to her.

She smiled. “We will do a little at a time.
Hands
first.”

Julien stood statuesque as Giselle closed the gap between them. Saying
nothing, she felt his eyes on her. Touching fingertips at first, then fingers
and palms until their spread hands fit together mirroring one another, the burning
sensation made her flinch. She pulled her hands free, looking at the cuts, scrapes
and bruises and quickly dipped her hands in the water. Once she removed them
from the magical oils, her hands were smooth, just as before.

His eyes widened when she held out her hands in an offering of proof.
“Look. The wounds have left me.”

He tilted his head. “But you feel pain when you take my injury?”

“No. I don’t feel anything.”

“Bullshit. You can’t lie to me. I might not have known you for very
long, but I can tell when you’re lying or avoiding something. If I feel it, you
feel it.”

She nodded her head. “It’s a little burn, more like a sting.”

“
Mmm
.”

She cleared her throat. “You’ll need to remove—everything.”

His smile taunted her. Not taking his eyes from hers, he hooked his
thumbs in the waistband of his bloodied, tattered jeans, pulling them down in a
quick movement.

Giselle caught sight of his large, rigid penis and looked away.

“Ready?”

“Mm hmm.”

Trying to keep her eyes on his, she leaned her body forward. She hooked
her arms under his and pulled him to her. Pressing her naked body to his was slow
and sensuous torture. One extremity after another imposed greater frustration,
leaving her breathless. On and on it went, until she felt intoxicated by lust. Dipping
herself in the water after touching him was no longer cooling her. Instead, it
stoked the fire spreading low in her belly.