fertility and death,” Rafael said.
“She raises the dead, so it’s giving life, not taking it,” Micah said.
Rafael seemed to think about it. “Interesting, and true.”
“For now, just stay where you are beside the bed and hold his hand while I call flesh,” Micah said.
“Have you ever tried to use your hands instead of your mouth?” Rafael asked, which to me said that Micah’s method of healing was bothering him even more than I’d thought.
“I have, and it doesn’t work.”
“I’ve seen films of humans who could heal with their hands, I think it’s called the laying on of hands,” I said.
“But leopards don’t have hands, and this seems to be a gift from the beast side, not the human,” Micah said.
“I wonder if there are any leopards alive today that can heal like this?” I asked.
“That would imply that animals can do magic,” Micah said.
“Why not?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“It’s just psychic ability, Micah, and they’ve proven that some animals have forms of telepathy, and certainly empathy, why not more?”
“I don’t know, maybe, but right now I only have one way to try to heal Rafael.”
“I would request that Anita sit on the bed and allow me to rest my head in her lap, rather than just kneel by the bed.”
I agreed without thinking through the whole I-was-totally-nude part. What would have been just a friendly gesture with clothes on, as I held his hand and cradled his head, was suddenly much more intimate. He was already my friend with benefits, so why did it bother me? I have no idea; if you figure it out, let me know.
46
I LAID MY gun, still safely in its holster, on the tiny bedside table, and sat on the bed so my lap could be Rafael’s pillow. Since he had to be on his stomach, again it was more intimate than if he’d been able to lie on his back, but I’d agreed and it wasn’t like he hadn’t been in my lap before. I bucked up and tried to act like a grown-up and not an embarrassed teenager, and stroked Rafael’s black hair with one hand and let him hold tight to my other hand. I felt Micah call his healing in a rush of heat that traveled along Rafael’s body and into me, so that the rat king’s body was like a conduit between two points of electricity, or wood between two fires. Micah bent down, and I had a ringside seat to see him place his lips against Rafael’s bare back. Micah was totally dressed in T-shirt and jeans, but even with him dressed there was still something sensual watching him put his mouth on the other man’s skin. Micah’s hair was back in a braid, so I had a perfect view of his lips caressing the skin, the muscles of his jaw flexing as he began to work his tongue along the wound.
Rafael was fine until he felt tongue and then he flinched, hand gripping tighter in mine. I didn’t think it was just Micah French-kissing the wound that bothered the rat king, but the push of energy that went with it. That warm, probing energy pulsed through my body so that I had to catch my breath. I knew it was stronger for Rafael, because the rush of it was being focused directly on his body. Sometimes what freaks us out most aren’t the things that feel bad, but the things that feel good.
Rafael’s head moved against my thigh and I couldn’t tell if it was a pain movement or a cuddle one. I petted his hair, playing with the shortness of it. It was grown out just enough that there was the promise of waves in it, but I knew he would be trimming it soon, and it would go back to being neat and straight and controlled. Control was very important to Rafael.
His body spasmed against the bed, his free hand convulsing in the bottom sheet, his other hand in mine, and then energy rode down his skin and over me. It caught my breath in my chest and tightened my body in a line that went all the way through me. Rafael’s head rose off my lap, eyes wide enough to show white edges. His breath came out in a sharp sound that shook at the end. We had a moment of our eyes meeting and a shared knowledge of just how good this was feeling.
I bent over and kissed him. His lips were soft,