Earth Angel by Siri Caldwell Page B

did Kira a huge favor by taking this spa manager job. If you were a jerk, you’d never have done something so generous.”
    “I needed a job,” Gwynne grumbled.
    “You could have looked for something else,” Megan pointed out. “I think you wanted to help out.”
    “Believe what you like.” She poured Megan a glass of Kira’s latest concoction. “Ginger iced tea?”
    “Thanks.”
    “It’s got a kick,” Gwynne warned. “Did you watch Kira make this? Because this is not just ginger, lemon and honey.”
    “Cayenne pepper,” Megan said absently, taking small sips as she read over Dara’s file.
    “Right. Sure. Of course. That’s what I was going to say.” Gwynne put the pitcher away in the mini-fridge beside her desk. “It’s not like ginger doesn’t have enough kick on its own.” Perhaps Kira could have informed her of the ingredients before foisting it on her customers.
    A client came through the arched entryway and Megan slipped silently away like the professional she was, taking Dara with her. Gwynne switched on her customer service smile. She checked in the new client and then the one she’d just zapped returned to the desk and said, “I also have this pain in my throat when I swallow.”
    “Your throat hurts too?” Why hadn’t she picked up on that?
    She sank her focus into the throat’s energy pathways, looking for patterns, cursing her instinctive need to check it out. She did not need to feed the rumor mill with more stories about her supposedly amazing abilities. At least Megan and Dara were on their way to Megan’s treatment room and weren’t watching, poised to accuse her of not being a jerk.
    The truth about the client’s pain floated effortlessly to the top of her awareness. “A medication is causing this. Something you’re taking is burning your esophagus. What are you taking?”
    “It’s called…it’s called…I forget.”
    “Do you know what it’s for?”
    “Uh…”
    Gwynne sent a glow of healing energy into the woman’s throat to soothe the inflamed tissues. “It’s good that you’re conscientious and want to protect your health, but try not to go overboard, okay?” Because it wasn’t just the doctors, it was the patients, too, who ignored the risk of side effects and insisted on medical intervention instead of leaving well enough alone.
    Yeah, like she was one to talk. Intervention should be her middle name. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Not should be . Used to be. No more trying to play God.
    “Go back to your doctor,” Gwynne said. “She can fix this.”
    “You did something to me, didn’t you? My throat feels better already.” She swayed and caught her balance by grabbing the edge of the desk. “I think I need to sit down. I feel dizzy again.”
    “Sorry, I should have warned you about that.”
    The client collapsed into the nearest chair. “What did you do?”
    “Nothing, really. Can I get you a glass of ginger iced tea? You heard it has cayenne pepper, right?”
    “Thanks.”
    When her dizziness passed, the woman left—limping much less—and then it was just her and Abby, who had said nothing the entire time and stayed busy playing her quiet background music, fingers flashing over the strings, seemingly incapable of hitting a wrong note.
    Abby finished her tune and looked up from her harp. “Why don’t you want to go out with Dara? She seems to like you.”
    Not the question she was expecting. At least she didn’t ask how she’d made that woman’s pain go away. She hadn’t even been touching her when she eased the pain in her throat, and that kind of thing tended to make people assume there were no limits to her magic. Gwynne picked at a stray rabbit hair stuck to her sleeve. “Dara’s still mad at me for something I did a long time ago.”
    “She’s mad at you for turning her down?”
    “How do you know that’s what happened?” Gwynne countered.
    “Please. I heard what she said.” Abby rested her cheek against her