Lightning Game (GhostWalkers 17)

That was true too. But still. Diego really was like a brother. Her heart had ached for family, now it felt as if she had that.

“There is plenty tonight, shrimp, chicken and andouille jambalaya. It’s on the stove, Diego. Fresh-baked bread. Greens. Plenty of food. The girls made cobblers for dessert. I think you’ll be happy tonight.”

“Cobbler?” Diego perked up.

Jonquille started to laugh, but the movement hurt her head. She couldn’t even grab her skull to keep it from shattering while she laughed.

I’ve got you, Lightning Bug.

Almost immediately, she felt Rubin in her mind. There were ragged breaks, little tears, that he seemed to be carefully gluing, making them seamless. He did one at a time. Not many. Just a few.

I can’t do them all or I won’t be any good later on. I have to rest in between. That’s important to remember, Jonquille. Whenever you have the chance, take it.

Rubin continued to hold her hand, but she could visibly see the difference in him. His skin was pale and there were lines of strain around his mouth.

“Nonny, when was the last time Wyatt gave you a checkup?” Rubin asked the question casually, as if it were of no importance.

The older woman laughed, the sound contagious. “You aren’t foolin’ an old woman, Rubin. It was a while ago. I’m pretty certain I’d know if somethin’ was wrong, but if it makes you feel better, you can do your mumbo jumbo and look inside me just to check.”

Jonquille felt the skitter of alarm that went down Rubin’s neck. This woman was extremely important to him, and he was suddenly very worried about her, but Jonquille wasn’t sure why. She raised one eyebrow to ask.

She would never suggest that I give her the once-over unless she’s concerned about something.

“It won’t take long, Nonny, and it would make me feel better. I appreciate it,” Rubin said immediately, as if afraid she might change her mind. He got up and went around to the other side of the bed.

Jonquille had seen him scan Patricia Sawyer using his palms, and he did the same with Nonny. He held his palms about an inch from her body as he moved them over her. Every now and then, he lingered in one spot longer than Jonquille thought he should and she found herself holding her breath. The light seemed to grow brighter and the warmth grew hotter. Nonny never complained or moved. She didn’t say he was taking too long or try to get away from what Jonquille was certain was extremely hot heat at times.

Those hands moved slowly all up and down the older woman’s body from her toes to her brain, not missing a single part, much like a scan would do. Rubin was thorough. It was Nonny. Jonquille strengthened her connection with Rubin so she could see what was going on. He was finding little problems. Arthritis. He eased that. A minor knee problem. That was fixable. He made it as good as new. A small adjustment in her back. Nonny appeared to have the body of a much younger woman. Jonquille wondered if the healers worked on her all the time or if it was genetics and her diet and the work she did.

Jonquille felt Rubin’s sudden stillness again. He’d found something he didn’t like. He was very cautious now, going through the arteries and veins surrounding her heart and neck. He inspected each one. Jonquille could see the damage in two of them, the buildup that had significantly narrowed the artery, that sudden buildup of plaque that threatened to close off the much-needed blood supply.

Rubin worked with extreme care. Nonny was older and her arteries were a little thinner than normal, although in remarkable condition. She was the epitome of a woman in good health at her age. Jonquille found it a bit shocking that Nonny could have a buildup of plaque when she ate right and did manual physical labor even at her age. She kept a large vegetable garden as well as an extensive herb garden.

Once Rubin had taken care of the arteries, he moved on to the heart, checking to make certain there were no repercussions to it. From there he examined her lungs thoroughly. Jonquille could tell he was expecting to find something there. When he found nothing, he moved on to her brain, clearly looking for evidence of small brain strokes. When he found none, he once again checked her legs to be certain he hadn’t missed anything. Only when he was positive she was going to be fine did he pull back.

He staggered and sank down onto the bed, reaching back to find the mattress as if that could hold him up. Jonquille inched her hand toward his. Their fingers touched, and he moved his hand enough to envelop hers.