Healing Hands (The Queen of the Night series Book 2) Read online

  Healing

  Hands

  Book Two in the Queen of the Night Series

  Laura Emmons

  ISBN-13: 978-1497537309

  ISBN-10: 1497537304

  HEALING HANDS

  Copyright © 2014 Laura M. Emmons

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any storage or retrieval systems is forbidden without the express permission of Laura M. Emmons. Contact through Facebook at www.facebook.com/lauraewrites.

  All characters in this book are a product of the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to any persons alive or dead. All incidents described in the book are also pure inventions of the author.

  DEDICATION

  This story is dedicated to my inspiring sister, Dia. Her work in hospice care, palliative care and as a shamana has brought light into many, many lives.

  CONTENTS

  Ch. No.

  Chapter Title

  Kndl

  Loc.

  Acknowledgments

  68

  Prolog

  1

  The Suspect Moon

  The King and the Queen

  76

  141

  2

  Night of the Mothers

  316

  3

  Corey

  448

  4

  The Destroyer

  544

  5

  Children’s Day

  723

  6

  House Warming

  794

  7

  A Quiet Christmas

  950

  8

  Aura Camouflage

  1043

  9

  Saying Goodbye

  1161

  10

  Mistletoe

  1300

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  Hogmanay

  New Kids in School

  Testing

  The Moon Garden

  Imbolc

  Groundhog Day

  1403

  1603

  1753

  1891

  2035

  2174

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  Epilog

  Fallout

  Steve

  Eagles

  Family Tree

  Sweetheart Dance

  Vision Quest

  A Month of Quiet

  Poet’s Play

  All the Queen’s Spies

  Mooney

  Crystal Cave

  Together

  Perfect Harmony

  Regret

  Vengeance

  Recovery

  May Day

  2364

  2492

  2611

  2735

  2902

  3130

  3217

  3405

  3582

  3730

  3879

  4023

  4174

  4275

  4477

  4616

  4784

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Many thanks to all of the aspiring authors on Authonomy.com who offered comments and advice on this novel. Special thanks to my beta readers: Chris, Karen, Mindy and of course, my ever-patient husband, Jim.

  The cover on this book is comprised from several photographs, two of which are reprinted through an agreement with Shutterstock.com. The photograph of the mated eagles in flight is copyrighted by Gregory Johnston. The photograph, ‘Holding Hands’ is copyrighted by gurinaleksandr. The background was photographed by Dia Emmons at Prospect Peak in Morgan County, West Virginia and is reprinted by permission.

  Prolog

  The Suspect Moon

  Six years earlier…

  The man shivered. He’d been conditioned to endure all kinds of physical discomforts but he still felt the cold. This Afghani canyon was inhospitable in more ways than one. After almost baking to death mere hours ago in the arid, cloudless climate, he now found himself near frozen. He paused, hanging from the side of the cliff, pulling his army-issue flak jacket tighter around his middle and scoping out his next moves.

  Finding solid footholds and handholds in the craggy cliff side took all of his concentration; the porous rock crumbled to dust in his hands and under his feet. Not wanting to lose purchase and plummet to the jagged rocks below, he considered his next handhold carefully and searched for the target.

  He’d seen this location in a vision. He knew that in one of the many caves hidden amongst the eroded and misshapen rock, the enemy built IEDs, but the terrain looked a lot different in person. His gift of premonition didn’t allow him to sense his own future, but it helped him become an important intelligence asset to the U.S. military. His magical lineage gave him unprecedented athleticism and enhanced senses so he’d been able to become one of the elite members of the Special Forces.

  Scuffling noises came from the rock in front of him. He froze. A desert hedgehog, no bigger than his fist, scoured the rock for insects. The tiny rodent would have been cute, if not for the sharp quills covering its whole body. All of the indigenous animals were predators.

  Most of the people belonged to a radical sect bent on killing Americans, Europeans, Japanese, Koreans and Australians. They would probably have liked to kill more people, but there were only so many hours in the day. He didn’t bother disguising himself with traditional garb. His pale skin and blue eyes, hell, even his light brown hair, made it obvious he didn’t belong here. Plus, he spoke lousy Pushto. His best option for survival on this mission was to not get caught. He counted on the cover of darkness and his dark clothes to help him stay out of sight.

  They’d chosen this night to execute the mission because the new moon, completely hidden in the Earth’s shadow on one day each month, guaranteed absolute darkness.

  The home-made bombs made mincemeat of his fellow soldiers. As a Special Forces operative, he’d been ordered to infiltrate the bomb manufacturing site, plant an explosive of his own, and sneak back out undetected. Twelve men made up his unit, but this operation had been designated a two-person job. His partner hid at the bottom of the cliff with the radio detonator.

  He returned to his search along the face of the cliff. There. He found the opening. He used his enhanced hearing and sense of smell to confirm that he was alone in the cave. Then he planted the small but powerful device and retreated.

  As he retraced his path back down the cliff to his partner, he saw a sliver of light from the moon cast rays upon the landscape. That’s odd, he thought. There shouldn’t be any moonlight at all until tomorrow night. The slice of crescent moon widened as he watched it. Uh oh. If the moon grew any brighter; his position would be spotted by the lookout guards posted on the cliff opposite him across the narrow valley. He chuckled to himself, nervously. This would be a great time for one of those fairy concealment charms, but he’d given up using magic altogether when he’d eloped with his stunningly kind-hearted and beautiful wife, Shannon. She stayed at home with his nine year-old daughter, Maggie, and his three year-old son, Corey. His marriage to Shannon had been forbidden by t
he rules of his coven. She was descended from Healers, people able to heal almost any illness with a magical touch. He was a Seer, born with the gift of prophesy. The deities forbid Healers and Seers to intermingle. Their community would have undoubtedly sided with gods and goddesses over two teenagers in love, so he and Shannon left Cacapon, West Virginia and everything associated with it.

  He’d climbed halfway down the cliff, lost in memories of his wife and children, when it appeared that the laws of nature were wholly broken. Out of nowhere, the moon rotated until it shone in all its brightness upon his position. This was how it seemed to non-magical humans. The Queen of the Night, the goddess of the Moon, played a trick on the world by using the magical glow off her own sparkly silver visage, from the heavenly realm, to deliberately expose him to danger. Why now? After letting him live for so many years, why did she choose now to exact her revenge for his disobedience?

  He heard shouts in Pushto, and saw the unmistakable glint off a sniper rifle scope.

  ***

  November 1st, present day…

  Evan woke up with a start. They shot him! Still lost in the dream, he reached for the journal and pen he kept by the bed. He’d had the rare gift of having dream visions of past events for five years now. By habit, he recorded the vision in as much detail as he could remember. His mom was part Poet, people who had phenomenal memories, so he had great recall. His visions of the future always came to him when he was awake. Of course, he couldn’t see his own future, no Seer could. Nevertheless, the members of the Cacapon clan chose him to represent all Seers on the High Council because he was uniquely gifted.

  In spite of his standing in the closely knit, extremely secretive, and very magical community of Cacapon, in his mother’s eyes he was still just a senior in high school, and he had to get a move on or he’d be late. He tried to place the journal back on the nightstand, but accidentally dropped it. It had fallen open to an old journal entry.

  Weird. He’d entirely forgotten about this vision. The vision described Ewan Stewart capsizing his boat on Cheat Lake nearly twenty years earlier. He remembered how the vision had disturbed him at the time because Cheat Lake was known for being calm, but Ewan’s boat capsized when a freak wave almost eight feet tall crashed over it.

  That event had happened at night also, just like the dream vision he’d woken up from today, but today’s vision was about a man he knew had died seven years ago, Matthew Stewart, Ewan’s oldest son.

  “Evan,” his mother called, “you’d better get down here. Fiona’s on the phone. It’s about your girl. Her mother’s sick again.”

  He trudged down the stairs with his toothbrush still in his mouth, his clothes draped over one arm and his sneakers in his other hand.

  “Don’t call her that, Mom,” he grumbled, “you’re gonna get us in trouble. We’re just friends.” Evan knew better than to break the rules with Maggie. She was a Healer and he was a Seer. If he didn’t want to end up like her dad, exposed to sniper fire while hanging on the side of a cliff, nothing could ever happen between them. No matter how much he might ache for her.

  Chapter One

  The King and The Queen

  Transcript of e-mail conversation spanning October 28th through December 13th, present day…

  EMAIL

  Subject: New way to stay in touch (25 messages) Me, Evan

  Maggie Stewart

  Oct 28 at 4:25 pm PDT

  ([email protected])

  Hi Evan,

  This is going to be a better way to talk to you. If we talk on the phone, someone might overhear us. The close call we had during our last conversation was frightening. I’m having a hard enough time keeping straight what secrets I’m keeping from whom. I’d hate for Corey to overhear us talking about magic, or for Mom to hear me say I have Healer and Seer gifts. Can you imagine how upset she’d be?

  I’m hoping Mom can’t monitor this account. Wish me luck.

  Evan Keach

  Oct 28 at 8:03 pm EDT

  ([email protected])

  I like this format. We can share pictures, too. Are you doing anything special for Samhain?

  Maggie Stewart

  Oct 28 at 5:18 pm PDT

  ([email protected])

  I’m too old for Halloween, but I think Corey is going trick-or-treating. He’s dressing up like one of those superheroes. Again.

  Maggie Stewart

  Nov 1 at 7:53 pm PDT

  ([email protected])

  Oh my Goddess, Evan. You won’t believe what happened this morning. I’m still shaking. What should I do?

  Corey and I had stayed up because he wanted my help evaluating his trick-or-treat plunder, so I overslept and almost missed doing my daily scan of Mom before she left for work.

  What I saw made me drop my electric toothbrush. I dry-heaved my guts all over, while it flopped uselessly on the ground like a caught fish. Instead of one tiny speck in the back of one breast, she was riddled with grayish-brown masses. These masses look like the cancerous tumors Nyad Easnadh developed last summer from the radiation poisoning of her stream. They’re everywhere: Mom’s lungs, her intestines and her pancreas. Overnight! She developed CANCER overnight!

  Evan Keach

  Nov 1 at 11:12 pm EDT

  ([email protected])

  Calm down, Mags. It’s too early to panic yet. Let the doctors do their tests. What you’re seeing with your magical healer vision might not be cancer. It might be something else.

  Maggie Stewart

  Nov 1 at 8:24 pm PDT

  ([email protected])

  Yeah right, Evan. Remember the part where I was cursed by an angry fairy queen into a catatonic state? Remember how you and Fiona saved me and when I woke up I was a walking combined X-Ray, Ultrasound and MRI machine? It looks just like the Ritual of Transfer. There’s only one entity in the universe that can perform this type of magic.

  Evan Keach

  Nov 1 at 11:26 pm EDT

  ([email protected])

  You’ve only had this ability for four months. You can’t possibly interpret every condition you sense accurately. Hang in there! Tell me what happens at the doctor’s. As far as the Ritual of Transfer is concerned, don’t you think the Queen of the Night has more important things to do? Also, do you still think of your healer vision as a curse? I was under the impression you’d started to embrace your legacy.

  Maggie Stewart

  Nov 1 at 8:29 pm PDT

  ([email protected])

  Okay, maybe you’re right. No, I don’t still think of it as a curse. It’s hard though, because only you, Fiona and I are aware I have this gift. I’ve known she had a 4mm lump in the back of her left breast since last August and I haven’t told anyone about it because I can’t explain how I know without revealing that I have both Healer and Seer gifts to Mom or revealing that magic exists to everyone else.

  Also, the QoN probably does have better things to do, but didn’t you say her magic is the strongest on Halloween? Anyway, thanks, Evan. I’ll keep in touch.

  Maggie Stewart

  Nov 2 at 4:47 pm PDT

  ([email protected])

  Hey Evan,

  Mom’s oncologist was able to examine her today. He looked at the places I told him to with an ultrasound and ordered a few emergency biopsies. At least he’s taking this seriously. The masses are still relatively small, but I can tell Mom’s starting to feel the pain, especially in her pancreas.

  Evan Keach

  Nov 2 at 8:02 pm EDT

  ([email protected])

  How do you even know what a pancreas is?

  Maggie Stewart

  Nov 2 at 5:05 pm PDT

  ([email protected])

  You’re kidding right? I’ve wanted to be a doctor ever since I was five. Mom gave me a copy of Gray’s Anatomy for my twelfth birthday. Of course I know what a pancreas is.

  Evan Keach

  Nov 15 at 6:02 am EDT

  ([email protected])
/>   Happy Sweet Sixteen, Mags. How’re doing?

  Maggie Stewart

  Nov 15 at 5:05 pm PDT

  ([email protected])

  Thank you, Evan. I’m not doing that great. Every day I can sense the masses growing but I can’t tell anyone what I see. Mom wanted to throw me a party. I talked her out of it. She’s really starting to act sick. She has trouble breathing. She won’t eat. There’s nothing I can do to help her. I just didn’t feel like celebrating.

  Fiona and Rose are helping Mom make plans to move to Cacapon permanently, so the only good news is that I might see you a lot sooner than next summer.

  Maggie Stewart

  Nov 24 at 7:19 pm PDT

  ([email protected])

  Hey Evan,

  It’s official. All the tests have been analyzed and the diagnosis is confirmed. There’s no way to fight this much cancer. You should have heard the oncologist. He kept muttering things to himself.

  “I don’t understand it.”

  “She was cancer-free.”

  “The post-operative radiation treatments worked.”

  “I’ve never seen anything this invasive.”

  My personal favorite is his new mantra. “How did this happen?” The masses are growing at an astronomical rate. All we can do now is help Mom put her affairs in order before she can’t even get out of bed. Corey’s distraught. How am I supposed to help him through this? It’s like Dad all over again.

  Evan Keach

  Nov 24 at 10:30 pm EDT

  ([email protected])

  I’m so sorry, Maggie. What can I do to help?

  Maggie Stewart

  Nov 24 at 7:35 pm PDT

  ([email protected])

  I have no idea. Now that everyone else knows what I’ve known for weeks, I just feel wiped out. I should probably go to bed early.

  Evan Keach

  Nov 24 at 10:38 pm EDT

  ([email protected])

  I could tell you a bedtime story.

  Maggie Stewart

  Nov 24 at 7:42 pm PDT

  ([email protected])

  Why not? You’re the one who is part Poet. Tell me a story, Evan.