The dry cloth slid over my horn, removing the last of the excess polish and leaving behind a glossy shine. Putting the cloth down, I traced a finger where the horn had been split.
Panacea had done an incredible job repairing it, and if it weren't for the memories of pain and fire that woke me most nights, I could almost completely forget it had been broken. In fact, thanks to Panacea and my own (minor) healing factor, I didn't have a single visible mark left from the battle.
It had been nearly two weeks since Blackwell had attempted to sacrifice me, and I was trying my best to get back to some semblance of normalcy.
"Taylor, breakfast!" Speaking of normalcy, Dad's shout brought my thoughts back to the present.
"Coming!" I called back. Capping the small tin of polish, I wiped my hands and took a quick moment to straighten the sweater I was wearing, as it was comfy, looked nice and did a good job of hiding my figure somewhat.
With my hair pulled back into a low ponytail, a new pair of jeans and my ankle boots, I looked almost like a college student, or maybe an intern. Well, that's the look I was going for, anyway.
Heading downstairs, I grabbed my school bag, dropping it at the foot of the stairs as I walked into the kitchen.
"Morning!" I chirped, spotting Dad standing at the counter and doing my best to hide the nervous fluttering in my stomach. Sitting down at the table, I quickly dug into the poached eggs he had made.
I very nearly gagged as it turned to mush on my tongue, the foul taste making my stomach turn.
Sighing, Dad sat opposite me, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands as I forced myself to continue eating.
"Is it still bad?"
"It's okay," I lied, glancing at the cup of tea he had placed down for me. Getting up, I took it to the counter and tried to ignore his frown as I added extra sugar to the cup, far more than I would have ever had before.
"Taylor..."
"It's getting better," I insisted, and it was, sorta.
While it was true I didn't have any physical scars left from my 'fight' with that 'lord of order', that didn't mean there weren't some aftereffects.
Whatever it had been trying to do to me, it had felt like it was trying to burn me alive from the inside out. I couldn't smell anything, food was bland and tasteless and every touch felt like I was wrapped in a thick blanket. Thankfully, my empathy seemed unaffected.
Panacea had checked, multiple times, but there was nothing she could do to fix it. Physically, there was nothing wrong; all the nerves and signals were there and working just fine, and yet the lack of sensation continued.
Part of me feared that the monster had carved out a piece of my soul.
Mercifully, the damage didn't seem to be permanent. My senses were returning, but very slowly. I could taste things if the flavour was strong enough, and occasionally I caught a whiff of my shampoo or Dad's aftershave.
Hopefully I would make a full recovery in time, if I could just keep myself from going insane before then.
"Taylor," Dad said, putting his coffee down, "don't force yourself. I'm sure Panacea will understand if you need more time to —"
"Dad, it's fine. Really," I huffed, cutting him off, "I want to do this, I'm going stir-crazy sitting around the house all day!"
Guilt and concern rolled off him in waves, and I sighed quietly to myself. It was so much easier to ignore his depression when I couldn't taste his emotions.
Putting my own cup down, I walked behind Dad and wrapped him in a hug.
"It wasn't your fault," I murmured as he tensed. "You had no way of knowing what Blackwell was doing, and I can't spend my whole life hiding indoors."
That wasn't hyperbole. I hadn't taken so much as a step outside since the fight.
"I know," he said quietly, reaching up to put his hand on my arm. "When did you get so understanding?" He chuckled. "You're too much like your mother."
"You're just predictable." I tapped him lightly on the back of the head. "Now come on, we need to finish eating if you really want to drop me off."
"Yes ma'am," he said with a chuckle.
Today was supposed to be my first day working with Panacea.
Originally, I expected it would take at least another month to get all the paperwork processed, but the closure of Winslow had apparently sped things up a bit.
The PRT had been all over the school within minutes of the ward dropping, containing the mutated students before things got too much worse. Most of them had been taken to nearby hospitals where the PRT was providing 'treatment' to them.
After the first week, Winslow had been declared 'unfit for use'. Excuses ranged from damaged foundations to lingering magic, and the students, those who had either returned to normal or hadn't been at school that day, were being divided up amongst nearby schools.
Meanwhile, the paperwork for people like me, who were applying for homeschooling or other alternative educations, had apparently been expedited.
Panacea had called almost immediately, offering me a bonus if I was willing to start work as soon as possible, and I couldn't bring myself to say no.
'I wonder if it was a bad idea giving her my cell?' I caught myself wondering. She had been texting me almost daily with either questions or just random silliness, and it was a little much at times.
Though I couldn't deny it felt nice to have someone to talk to who wasn't Dad or Madison, who I was still conflicted about.
"Are you sure you don't need a costume?" Dad asked, getting up and putting his cup in the sink.
"No, Panacea said she's got something I can use, at least for now." Finishing the last of my breakfast, I put my plate in the sink, shifting my body into my 'school' look as I grabbed my bag. My re-created wands were inside, along with a notebook and some pens.
"Alright." Nodding, he opened the front door. "Just let me know if you need anything."
"Don't worry, I will."
The drive to Panacea's clinic was quiet, with both of us lost in our own thoughts. I almost didn't notice we had arrived until I heard Dad put the parking brake on.
Shaking myself, I hopped out of the truck.
"Good luck, and remember, I'm proud of you," Dad said, and I gave him a wave.
"Thanks, I will!" Smiling, I turned on my heel and started to make my way up the path to the entrance. To anyone watching, I was just one more person visiting the clinic, which is exactly what I wanted people to think.
Inside, I approached the reception desk, where a girl with dark hair was sitting.
"Good morning," she chirped, almost physically radiating energy as she nearly bounced in her seat. "Can I help you?"
"Uh, hi?" She was far too chipper for this time of the day. "My name's Taylor, I'm here for the volunteer course?"
"Oh, of course." Picking up a phone, she tapped a key and muttered my name to whoever was on the other end. Hanging up with a nod, she pointed to a nearby elevator. "Just go to floor four, someone will meet you there, okay?"
"Right, thanks."
Stepping into the elevator, I hit the button for the fourth floor, glancing at my reflection on the smooth metal wall. Nervously, I checked my ponytail and smoothed down my sweater. Looking at it now, maybe it was too 'frumpy'?
'I suppose I could take it off and tie it around my waist… but then the shirt under it is kinda revealing.'
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I nearly jumped out of my skin when the elevator stopped with a little ding.
I'd barely managed to turn around before the doors opened and I found myself staring at Panacea.
Happiness, amusement and far too much relief danced on my tongue, along with hints of exhaustion.
"H-hey!" she said with a start and a little wave.
The whole thing felt so stiff, I found myself worrying that something had happened.
"Panacea, is something wrong?"
Huffing, she pinched the bridge of her nose with a muttered 'empaths'. Straightening up, she shook her head.
"No, everything's fine, just me needing more sleep and sucking at being 'professional'," she said with a little laugh. "Normally Karen handles the new hires, but she insisted I be the one to show you around today."
"Does she always tell you what to do?"
Laughing, Panacea turned on her heel and started walking down the hall, gesturing for me to follow.
"Oh, don't be fooled. I own the building, sorta, but she pretty much runs the place.
"So, your first week or so will just be an orientation of sorts, get you up to speed, find out how much you know, introduce you to the others, et cetera. You probably won't start actually meeting patients until next week, and it will be a while before you're left alone with one.
"This isn't because we don't trust you," she said quickly, a spike of panic filling the air. "It's an insurance issue. We're an," she made air quotes with her fingers, "'officially licensed and registered health organisation', that means we have to deal with a lot of red tape."
"Makes sense," I muttered with a nod. I mean, normal hospitals wouldn't just take a random person off the street, give them a week's training, then leave them to look after patients.
"I'm glad you understand, we've had… hurt feelings about it in the past. Remind me to tell you more sometime. Anyway, for today the plan is to just show you the building, give you a rough overview of what you'll be doing and introduce you to the others, okay?"
Stopping, she pushed a door open and walked inside, with me following close behind. Inside was what I assumed was a changing room. Lockers lined the left-hand wall, with cubicles on the right. A row of benches sat in the middle, and on the far wall was an open doorway.
"This is the women's changing room, men are next door," Panacea said before waving at the doorway, "and through there are the showers. Feel free to use them whenever you want. You can also use this room to put on your costume or, if you're feeling brave, come to work already wearing it."
Shaking her head, she gave me an amused look. "Personally, I would suggest changing here until you're well known enough that you're not going to get jumped in the streets or followed home."
"Yeah, no thanks. I'll change here," I said, unable to stop myself shivering. I really needed to speak to Dad about setting up wards around our house.
"So… do you want to see your costume, or would you rather have the tour first?"
"Costume first." That way, if anything was wrong, we could change it now.
"Alright." Panacea waved at one of the cubicles. "It's hanging up in there."
Her amusement and excitement was infectious, and I couldn't help but smile as I stepped into the cubicle and shut the door. Sure, it was possibly only a temporary costume, but that wasn't the point. I finally had a chance to use my power for something, to help people.
There was a hook on the thin wooden wall with a drycleaning bag hanging from it. On the floor stood a pair of brown boots. Unzipping the bag, I found a white and red costume that was similar to Panacea's.
Stripping down, I took the robe out of the bag, only to realise I had been mistaken. It was actually a dress and coat combination.
The main portion of the costume was the white, sleeveless pleated dress. The insides of the pleats were red, as were edges of the sleeves. There was also a pair of elbow length gloves with red trim.
Pulling on the dress, I zipped it up only to realise it didn't fit. The waist and chest were the wrong sizes. I was about to call out to Panacea when I realised it had been designed for my real appearance and not the more modest look I currently had.
Blushing to myself, I shifted my body, taking care to keep my wings and tail hidden and readjusting the dress. It was a bit tighter than I would have liked, but whatever it was made from had enough stretch that I wasn't at risk of tearing it. For now, I would see how it felt as the day went on.
The white coat was odd. It had long, loose sleeves and a large hood, all with red trim, but the hem stopped at my chest. It wasn't a bad look, just odd.
As I was putting the coat on, Panacea slid a small box under the cubicle door.
"How's it going in there? I wasn't sure what sort of mask you would prefer, so pick whatever you like."
"Okay, thanks!" I called back, opening the box. Inside was a collection of masks in white and red. Everything from full-face to domino and even scarves. In the end, I picked a white mask that covered the top half of my face but left my mouth exposed.
Finally, with my hair pulled into a messy bun, I flipped the hood up and looked at myself in the mirror.
The end result did look a lot like Panacea, though I was a good bit taller than her, with a much more noticeable figure, but it was close enough to her appearance that even a quick glance would tell anyone who saw it that I was a healer.
I could work with that.
Taking my white wand from my school bag, I placed it into one of the pouches that came with my costume's belt. I'd been forced to remake both my wands, as they had been either lost or destroyed in Winslow.
Quickly stuffing my normal clothes into my bag, I took a breath and opened the cubicle door.
"W-well, what do you think?"
Panacea started, her eyes wide. The taste of attraction was heavy on my tongue as the visible parts of her face flushed.
"Y-you look great!" she squeaked, and I blushed. I would never get used to being seen as attractive by people, but I would do my best to enjoy it.
"So," clearing her throat, Panacea pointed to the lockers, "if you want to stash your stuff, we can start the tour?"
"As I said earlier, we're an officially licensed medical facility," Panacea said as she led me towards the elevator. "For legal reasons, Karen is listed as both the owner and manager. She also handles the day-to-day running of things. She will be the one who sets your schedule and picks your patients. Make sense?"
"Sure, but can I ask why?"
"Minors can't own businesses," she said with a shrug as the doors closed. "There's also a bunch of laws that make it hard for capes to own or run businesses, so it was just easier and quicker to have her name on the paperwork."
"Anyway, currently we are the only 'parahuman' employees, though Karen is looking for more. She'll never admit it, but she's a bit of a cape geek and has always wanted to manage a cape team."
"Did she design our costumes?"
"Yeah," Panacea said with a laugh. "If you don't like it, we can get a new one made?"
"No! No, it's fine." I said quickly. Matching costumes or themes were good for teams, after all. Stepping out of the elevator, I hesitated when everyone turned to stare at us. I'd expected it, but it was still a little daunting.
And yet, I couldn't deny that it felt good. The mix of interest and the odd spot of desire coming from the patients in the waiting room was a pleasant mix that, thankfully, wasn't as overpowering as my 'display' with Parian had been.
Panacea barely seemed to notice (or care about) the attention. Instead she continued forward, nodding to the girl at reception as she moved further into the building.
"We have four floors," she said. "The ground floor has the consultation rooms, second is for recovery and long term treatment. Third is restricted to capes, and fourth is for staff. We have eight doctors and sixteen nurses on call, with a handful of volunteers that all work on shifts."
I followed as she continued to walk, nodding in greeting to the nurses. After the third one passed us, I couldn't help but notice some similarities.
"Do you guys all have gym memberships or something?" I asked, my eyes lingering on the nurse.
"Working for me has benefits?" She chuckled at my disbelieving stare. "Okay, fine. When we first opened, we had… trouble with the gangs and I had to take steps to ensure everyone's safety…"
I knew she could do cosmetic work — it was a major part of her business, after all — but how far did that extend? Actually, now that I thought about it, if she could change a person's gender, surely improving muscle tone would be nothing by comparison.
Glancing around, I leaned forward and kept my voice low. "If the PRT investigated, how many of the nurses would be called brutes?"
Embarrassment and amusement wafted from Panacea. "Yes."
"...what about Karen?" She was nearly seven feet tall and built, after all.
"Ah," Panacea didn't meet my eyes, "She's… well, she's a unique case, I can't really say more."
Shaking my head, I let the subject drop. I wasn't going to criticise her for taking the necessary steps to protect herself and her workers, after all.
"Anyway," she said in a more normal tone, "supplies are kept on the fourth floor, I'll show them to you later..."
The rest of the day was fairly slow. Panacea took me around the building, pointing out the different rooms and giving me a rough outline of what I would be doing.
For this week, I was just supposed to follow Panacea or a nurse around and observe. I could help, when instructed, but I wasn't to use any magic unless specifically told to or it was an emergency.
The third floor, Panacea explained, was restricted to capes and neatly divided into two. Heroes on one side, villains on the other. Trial, error and a few fights had eventually resulted in a system that (mostly) worked.
There was a strict no-fighting rule in the building. Anyone who broke it would be handed over to the PRT unless they managed to escape; either way, they would be blacklisted and not allowed to return again.
That made sense to me, but it still seemed strange that the PRT not only went along with it, but also allowed villains to come and go.
"I mean," Panacea had said, "it doesn't happen often. The Empire has their own healer, and there are only two ABB capes. Mostly we just end up treating vigilantes and heroes."
Right now, there wasn't anyone on the third floor, so we soon found ourselves back on the fourth, with Panacea leading me into a small kitchen.
"Unfortunately," she said, pulling a small fridge open, "there's not really enough of us here to justify a real canteen, not that we have the space for it. So, instead we made a deal with some businesses nearby. We get a selection of sandwiches and other food sent in, or if you go to them, you get a discount."
Panacea pulled a tray from the fridge that was piled high with sealed sandwiches, wraps, plastic bowls filled with salad and other things. She placed it on the table and waved at it. "Pick what you want, I've got a private room where you can unmask to eat."
I'd been passively feeding off the people around me since I arrived, but that didn't stop my stomach from audibly growling as I looked at the pile.
In the end, I picked a pulled pork sandwich and followed her to a room at the far end of the hall.
"Most of the time, if a member of staff, or an 'unexpected visitor'," she gave me a pointed look that made me flush with shame, "needs a place to crash, they grab a spare bed on the third floor, but this one is mine."
Pushing the door open, she led me into a large room that had a desk with a computer against one wall and a sofa sat opposite it. There was also a door into a small ensuite.
"Take a seat." Panacea gestured at the sofa while she dropped onto the well-padded desk chair.
Sitting down, I pushed back my hood and opened my lunch, only realising then that Panacea was staring out of the window, one of her legs bouncing nervously.
"Is something wrong? Do you need me to leave so you can eat?" I said quickly.
"Hmm? Oh! No, no it's fine. It's just… can I ask you something… personal?"
"I guess?"
Sighing, she stared at me for a minute before finally talking.
"So… After you came here that night, I tried to look up more information on succubuses? Is that the word?"
"Succubi is the plural." I sighed. "Let me guess, you found lots of porn and maybe some horror stories?"
The visible parts of her face went red while embarrassment filled the air.
"I'm sorry, it's just… your body doesn't make any sense. When I touch people, I can see everything about them physically, and you're supposed to be a different species to me, yet your body reads as more or less human, with the same ass backward designs that only random evolution could create and —"
"It's okay!" Holding a hand up, I tried to stop the babble. "I can understand being curious."
Looking at my food, I took a quick bite of my sandwich to buy myself some time. I tried not to shudder at the lack of taste while I wondered how much to tell Panacea, given how the PRT seemed to hate me on sight, and yet… did it matter what I told her?
"You're right and wrong," I said eventually. "Succubi are called demons, but it's closer to say we're more like 'enhanced humans.'"
Mom had written the story in her book, and I'd been meaning to double check it with Madison, but there never seemed to be time.
Succubi had been human once, then a minor god had come along. It liked to appear human, mostly in the form of a large man, but it took other forms.
It had started out as a pleasure demon of some sort, gradually gaining more and more power over time until it had eventually become a god. It had also become addicted to very human pleasures.
Panacea leaned forward in her chair. "So, wait, are you saying?"
"It liked to have sex, a lot. Too much, in fact. When you are an immortal and apparently indestructible being with no real physical form, your definition of sex and pleasure can get a little… loose."
That's apparently how it started: the god kept taking human 'lovers', but quickly drove them to death, insanity or both. Eventually, it decided that normal humans weren't enough. So, after carving out a piece of hell, it gathered up its favorite types of humans and pulled them into its 'realm'.
Finishing half of my sandwich, I looked out of the window. The glass was frosted, obviously to keep people from looking in.
"When a god makes a realm, it's basically a small pocket reality where it can do… anything it wants..."
And what it wanted was to create the perfect servants. Built to give and receive pleasure, to feed on others and funnel that back to the god.
"God…" Panacea said quietly, "that's… really? I mean, didn't anyone notice?"
"It's not like this was a week ago!" I laughed. "All this happened thousands of years ago, when entire towns could vanish overnight and everyone just accepted it."
Knowing mom and I were effectively a slave race, created from the ground up to serve someone else, bothered me, and I'd had more than a few nightmares about it.
"So, what happened?" Panacea said eventually, "I mean, you're not a slave, right?"
Snorting, I sat back in my chair. "No, I'm fine… I don't know when it happened, but the god's power over his slaves weakened and he apparently didn't notice. The succubi eventually rebelled, killing the god.
"That's where these come from." My horns shimmered into view, and I gestured at them.
"What about all those stories I found of succubi killing or eating people?" Panacea seemed calmer now, most of the nervousness gone from her emotions.
Shrugging, I opened my bottle of water and took a sip. "Well, some of it is just hyperbole, and some is just outright lies." I did my best to sound like a pompous old man. "I'm sorry my dear, I had to sleep with those other women, don't you understand? They were succubi, they bewitched me!"
Panacea put a hand over her mouth in an effort to stifle her giggles, and I gave her a smile.
"Some of it was probably true. Magic users would often summon succubi as spies and assassins, and succubi would happily go along with it, or try to trick their summoner into freeing them so they could… well, go off to feed as much as they liked. Most of them stopped once the god was dead and no longer controlling them, but by that point, the reputation had been made. They've mostly stayed in their pocket dimension ever since."
"That's… damn…"
"Yeah, it's pretty fucked up. Though Madison could likely tell you more details."
"I'll pass, thanks. She's a little... full-on?"
"That's one way to put it."
We slipped into a more relaxed silence. I continued to eat my lunch while Panacea tapped her knee, clearly lost in thought. Eventually, however, she seemed to come to a decision.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed back her hood and pulled her scarf down to reveal a freckled face with frizzy brown hair.
"Amelia?" I gasped and she gave me a nervous smile.
"Hi?"
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