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spare trousers and shirt for this gent. And all the more water you can spare? Ta.”
    Molly grabbed Duncan’s hand, helped him stand, and retreated for the safety of her home.
    Serina looked to the man for whom she now had a name to go by. “Lord St. James, sweet dreams!” And with that said she placed the ether-soaked cotton over his nose and held him as he drifted off to sleep.
    Laying her hands lightly upon his shoulders, Serina focused on his interior body, allowing her healing powers to sift through him to mend the ruthlessly damaged ligaments, muscle, organs, arteries and veins. Moving on to his bowels, Serina’s eyes watered and her stomach bucked. She would not vomit again.
    Wrong!
    Serina stuck her head out the door and heaved. Pulling the windows open and pushing the doors out, she prayed for frigid air and moments later, an arctic blast ripped through the carriage, chilling her to the bone.
    So much to learn, so little time.
    Serina wasted no time and directed her powers to the man’s abdomen, watching as his intestines folded neatly, securely back into his body cavity and that foul, vile stench dissipated. She sent a warm, static heat through his blood to kill any bacteria that harbored there.
    After scanning Lord St. James’ body, Serina strategically placed some bandages, just in case anyone had questions. As she neared completion, she noticed two things that piqued her interest.
    His left hip held a birthmark shaped like a crescent moon with a star-shaped spot wedged between the two points of the moon. It was perfect, as if someone had painted it on him, but then, she noted, everything about him was perfect.
    Her second more noticeable point of interest lay between St. James’ thighs. She took a deep breath as she eyed his endowment and fought back nervous giggles. The sight of him lying there spread out before her made her think things she’d only heard whispers of from others, never having experienced them herself. He wore one long, thick erection, almost too long, almost too thick. Serina licked her lips.
    Even dying he’s erect. Typical male.
    In the distance, Molly and Duncan’s voices brought her back to an all-too surreal reality. Serina patted her chest. Exhausted and completely misted a second time today, she washed him with cool water to rid any residual stench that clung to him. Ripe? Indeed he was.
    Serina’s last task was to replenish his blood loss. She decided to use her blood even though it differed from mortals. Serina dug through her little black bag and retrieved the necessary bottles and tubes and needles. She tied off her arm with a leather strap that, one, hurt like the dickens, and two, made the veins in her arm and hand throb and bulge.
    Watching the needle pierce through her skin, she whined, “I really despise sharp objects aimed at me.” Serina had no clue how much blood to give the man, but taking in the bloody carriage, she transfused one full bottle. Giving him that much left her shaky, cold, and nauseous. He, on the other hand, appeared rosy and warm. She reached for a ladle of water and gulped it down to replenish some fluids.
    Glancing at his tattered trousers and what lay so close, enticing her, Serina grabbed a dark silk shawl she’d spotted earlier crumpled into a ball in the corner of the seat. She draped it across his lap and tucked in the edges under his belt, giving her eyes respite and thus returning his dignity.
    While waiting for Lord St. James to come around, she tended to Lady St. James. Serina found the woman stunning regardless of her putrid color. Black, silky tresses draped down to the floor of the carriage. Ebony eyelashes blanketed her alabaster cheeks in a complimentary contrast.
    With her examination, Serina found Lady St. James’ uterus had been damaged, so badly the woman would never be able to bear children. Serina swallowed the lump of bile in her throat and let her energy flow throughout the woman. She reshaped the muscle, removed the