The Witch's Beauty_A Cozy Witch Mystery), Page 2

  It wasn’t just that the burns were gone. They were—they had vanished without leaving the slightest hint of scar tissue behind. That was miracle enough. But equally striking was the age of the young woman lying before him. He knew her to be forty-two years of age, and yet if he saw her on the street, he would have sworn up and down that she was in the neighborhood of twenty-seven years. All indications of time’s passage had melted from her face. And if his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, didn’t she used to have some gray hairs?

  But she was not only unblemished. She was not only young. She was beautiful. And while Dr. Svenson had not known her when she was younger, he had the distinct impression that this was not the face that would have evolved on Lorna if she had never been in that accident. She would have been a very pleasant, unscarred version of the woman he’d just met, but she wouldn’t be this gorgeous creature.

  It wasn’t a new, unrecognizable face. It was recognizably Lorna but could best be described as . . . an upgrade. It was a variation of her appearance that created the greatest possible impression of beauty, almost as if she were her own prettier young sister.

  The earlier transplant he had performed had taught Dr. Svenson to expect the unexpected. But the power of Lilith Hazelwood’s body never failed to amaze him.

  Perhaps was making more noise than he thought. Perhaps she could feel his presence. Lorna was waking up a bit early, and the doctor knew that her shock would exceed even his own. As soon as their eyes met, Lorna reached up to tentatively touch her face. Her face filled with wondrous disbelief.

  “I don’t feel anything. I don’t feel any scars.”

  “The scars are gone, Lorna. Come. Come see for yourself.”

  He gently took her arm and led her over to the large mirror over the sink in the small recovery room. Lorna let out a big gasp then covered her mouth in shock. Then uncovered it to see herself more clearly. It was the queasy sensation of looking into a fun house mirror and seeing a crazily distorted vision of oneself. Except, this was the opposite impossible reflection—a Lorna Sinclair she had only been able to dream about. A gorgeous creature who lived only in her imagination. Staring at her right this moment in the hospital mirror. She and this creature did have one thing in common—they both had tears running down their faces.

  “How did this happen? I’m beautiful. And . . . I’m young. Like, super young. Like, seriously, crazy young. And even when I was young, I was never this pretty. And I was never going to be this pretty. This isn’t just the burns gone. Tell me. Am I dreaming? Am I dead? Are we all beautiful in heaven? But you look the same—which was very nice, by the way. Very distinguished. This is really happening, isn’t it? Am I going mad?”

  “Calm down, Lorna, please. I was going to wait until after you were done with the swelling and the recovery. But I should have known better. These transplants always circumvent the recovery process. First, perhaps it is best to sit down.”

  Lorna shook her head vigorously. “I’m afraid if I take my eyes off myself, then all of this will go away.”

  “I think I can say with some certainty that these changes are permanent. Lorna, do you believe in witches?”

  “Of course not. That’s just something kids make up to hurt each other. They used to call me a witch because my face was so messed up. And there were some older women in town who they said might be witches. But, I figured out that just meant they were women whom people didn’t really like.”

  “That is a very rational explanation. The one I’m about to give you will not sound rational, medical, or possible. The donor for the skin graft and collagen extract was a very beautiful woman. She was also a witch. Her name was Lilith Hazelwood, and you are not the first person I have transplanted her organs into. The results have been nothing short of remarkable. I should say magical. They have the strength and a power that has no earthly source. And those powers are passed on to the transplant beneficiaries.

  “You look very skeptical, which I understand. But take a close look at that face in the mirror. How old is it? Where is your swelling? Where is your pain? There is none, is there? Your skin is clearer than any I have ever seen. This is not a situation of burns healed but of burns vanished. And, by the way—no more gray hair.”

  Until he had mentioned it, Lorna hadn’t noticed the absence of the gray. Which was mind-boggling enough. But the quality of the hair itself—it was a much deeper and richer color, as well as a silkier and shinier head of hair. She belonged in a shampoo commercial!

  “A witch! A real witch? You’re a doctor. How can you believe this?”

  “I believe because there is no other explanation. And after you have studied yourself in the mirror long enough, you will believe as well. Lilith Hazelwood was a witch. And now, you are likely to have acquired some rather interesting abilities, although I have no idea what you should expect. But on a success scale of one to ten, I’m going to call this operation a two thousand. Do you mind if I call in Ruby to see you?”

  In a daze, Lorna nodded her consent. It was indeed a lot to take in. What Dr. Svenson knew she wasn’t ready to hear just now was that Lilith Hazelwood lived on as a ghost, that she would probably be keeping a very close eye on Lorna, and like The Godfather, Lilith would be expecting a favor in return.

  The doctor left the door open as he headed down to the waiting room. Lorna’s gaze went from his departure back to the mirror. Still there. Why was she expecting the gorgeous image to vanish? Well, because she didn’t fully understand the parameters of reality anymore. But the doctor had said it was a permanent change. Perhaps she was just going to have to trust him.

  She heard a self-conscious cough at the door. It was a young twenty-five-year-old male orderly with his mouth hanging open.

  “Hi. I’m Luke. Everything going good for you? Anything I can get for you? Anything? Anything at all? Glass of water? No? So, what are you, a surfer? You look like you spend a lot of time on the beach. Like seriously healthy. No? Because I can appreciate staying in. Movies. Games. When you getting out of here? I’d be happy to work around your schedule.”

  How surreal. What this young guy actually hitting on her? And was this what men actually said? Somehow, she always imagined come-ons to be a lot smoother. But perhaps she needed to cut him some slack. He was only about twenty-five. And it dawned on her that he assumed the same, that she was about twenty-five.

  A second young fellow stopped by his side. “Hey, what’s the holdup?”

  Luke elbowed his friend. “Dude, I’m busy.”

  The second fellow caught a glimpse of Lorna. He immediately pushed Luke down the hallway. “You’re going to get fired, man. Mr. Grissom needs his insulin shots, stat. And it’s lunch time on the fourth ward. Don’t make those old folks grumpier than they already are. Get outta here.”

  He turned back to Lorna with a big eager smile. “I’m Tim. I have a lot of friends in the kitchen. I can hook you up with anything you want. French fries. PB&J. Bread pudding. Huh, have you tried the bread pudding? It’s the real deal. Restaurant-quality. And speaking of restaurants, I know a lot of great places in town where we can catch a bite.”

  Lorna didn’t even know what to do with all this attention coming from these excessively young men. “Thank you, Tim. But I think I have to recuperate from my procedure before I get my appetite back.”

  “That’s cool. You get your rest. I’ll check back with you later.”

  Time to get dressed and get out of here. It was difficult enough to process what had just happened to her without adding Luke and Tim to the mix. Best to shut the door and not attract any more passersby. As she stepped out of her hospital gown to quickly put on her street clothes, Lorna was struck dumb at the sight of her own nude body. The burns on her upper arm and left side had vanished. And the body itself looked as if her early youth had been fully restored—tight, toned, and downright perky. Abs! Honest to goodness abs.

  The doctor and Ruby would be coming back soon. There would be time enough to admire herself at ho
me. She quickly threw on her clothes, which all of a sudden seemed a bit drab, a bit too loose. And she caught sight of a large colorful bouquet in the corner of the room. Who could possibly have sent flowers? She hadn’t told anyone at work about her plans, only that she was going to be out for a few days.

  There was a card. “Beauty is power. Use it wisely. I look forward to making your acquaintance. Delphine.”

  Eventually, a wide-eyed Ruby helped Lorna check out from the hospital, helping to hustle her past a gauntlet of potential admirers and giving her a ride home.

  Lorna had a nice long evening to ruminate on her good fortune. This was the beginning of a new life. A new young life. That it came from the power of a dead witch was slightly troublesome, but this was one gift horse she really did not need to look in the mouth. She was consumed with gratitude and excitement.

  Those two young men at the hospital where a harbinger of things to come. She had always known that beauty and love so often went hand-in-hand. Now that she was beautiful, there seemed to be little doubt but that love would find her. Love that she had been waiting a lifetime for. She couldn’t wait.

  *****

  Lorna had already scheduled time off from work. She might as well take it, especially since it was going to be very difficult for her coworkers to comprehend her transformation. Plastic surgery was going to be the only potential explanation she could offer. Even so, her new appearance would be a hard thing to fathom.

  It was a good chance for her to collect her thoughts and accustom herself to a new reality. From the hardware store to the grocery store to the dry cleaners to the coffeehouse, Lorna felt admiring eyes on her at every turn. A few of them couldn’t let the opportunity of meeting her pass for fear that they might not run into her again—or that some other man might attach himself to her before they had a chance to offer themselves for consideration.

  “Liam. We’ve met before, haven’t we? No? Well, we should have. Do you like Italian?”

  “Why? Are you Italian?” Lorna couldn’t help herself. These guys were practically drooling.

  “I can help you to double your money in just ten years. I know a young lady like you isn’t thinking about retirement yet, but we can all do with a lot more freedom, am I right?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did start playing with stocks just a few years ago. I actually have a nice retirement plan in place. This was just kind of a fun experiment—to see what I could do. It’s not going too badly.”

  “Smart girl. I could tell. You’re a Gemini? No? Libra? Scorpio? Cancer? I knew it. I can always tell.”

  By midafternoon, Lorna had lined up three dates and turned down four others. It was downright spooky the effect that she was having on men. It was an exhilarating novelty while at the same time, she was often attracting men she suspected were completely incompatible. When she mentioned that she worked at the library, a number of them said that they had never been in it. How can you trust a man who’s never been inside the library?

  At the coffeehouse, Lorna found herself behind one of the most intriguing men she had encountered all day. He was having a discussion with the barista about some new environmental policies that were necessary to ensure the health of the oceans. He was thinking about starting a meet-up group of concerned citizens who might be willing to do a monthly clean-up of the garbage that washed up on the beach. He was passionate, smart. Lorna wanted to meet him.

  “Name?” The barista asked.

  “Max. Max Crowe.”

  “Ah. You’ve got a lot of reward points building up. Next time, you’ll get a free drink,” the helpful barista offered.

  Lorna planted herself closely behind him so that he had no choice but to bump into her. Which he did, according to plan. But he looked at her, grimaced, apologized brusquely, and went to stand several feet away to wait for his drink. How odd. And how frustrating. Particularly now that he had turned around and she could see that his dimpled face was as appealing as his mind. But why wasn’t he attracted to her?

  An old woman using a cane made her way toward the crowd of people waiting for their lattes. “My car won’t start. I think I must have left the lights on. I do that all the time. But I’ve run out of AAA visits. Can anyone help me?”

  Max sprang into action. “Of course, no problem at all. I have some twenty-foot jumper cables. You just show me where you are, and I’ll move my car and we will have you squared away in no time flat.”

  The old woman glowed with gratitude and her helpful rescuer led her gently back toward the door. What a sweetheart. Lorna definitely wanted to make his acquaintance. He hadn’t picked up his drink yet, so he would be back. All she had to do was wait for him, play her cards right, and secure a date that was really worth looking forward to.

  After about fifteen minutes, he did return. The barista had witnessed the good deed and promised to prepare him a nice hot drink. Lorna strolled nonchalantly over in his direction.

  “That was awfully kind of you, helping that woman out. It would have been very expensive for her if she’d had to call someone without her AAA.”

  Max shrugged indifferently. “It was nothing.”

  Why was he so standoffish? And why did he have to have such beautiful eyes? “I heard you talking about environmental cleanup projects. That’s a fantastic idea. I would certainly love to do my part. Is there some way I can keep tabs on what you’re going to be doing?”

  “It hasn’t actually gotten off the ground yet. There will be plenty of public notices when we get started. I’m sure you’ll see them.”

  With that, he grabbed his drink and quickly made his exit. Lorna’s heart sank. From the moment her eyes opened after the operation, men had been falling all over her. What was up with this guy? Maybe he was married. Maybe he was gay. Maybe beauty wasn’t quite the cure-all that she had so long assumed it would be. What had she been thinking? Of course, every man in the world was not going to be at her disposal. She didn’t want every man. However, she did want the chance to get to know Max Crowe better. But clearly, that was never going to happen.

  *****

  It was time to head back to work. Lorna stopped briefly outside the entrance, going over what she was going to tell her colleagues. Sure, it was going to be a far-fetched story, but she certainly couldn’t tell them that she had been transformed by the beauty of a dead witch.

  There were rows of flowers on the pathway leading up to the library entrance. But because it was so close to the parking lot, the exhaust usually choked the flowers and caused them to wither rather quickly. Lorna had often wondered why they bothered planting them at all. It was a bit of a downer to see them droop and turn gray like this.

  Absentmindedly, she bent over to pull out a few of the blooms that had long wilted and dried up. They were ruining the effect of the display—best to pluck them out. Then, an occurrence both frightening and exhilarating occurred—at the same moment that Lorna saw the pink- and white-striped geraniums spring back to vivid color, she felt the hard, crunchy petals under her fingertips soften back to their velvety blooming prime.

  Lorna almost squealed and nearly fell over. What had just happened? The answer was both obvious and unbelievable. She had just happened. She had just made that happen. Tentatively, she moved closer, studied the gorgeous flower amidst a dry gray landscape, and began to touch the others.

  One by one, each flower sprang back to life—chrysanthemums, violets, and daisies.

  “Aren’t those gorgeous?” Melody exclaimed directly behind her. “I was hoping they’d replace the dead flowers. Took long enough.”

  “Hey, Melody.”

  It was only at that moment that Melody noticed whom she was speaking with. And she was thunderstruck.

  “Yes, it’s me, Lorna. Oh, I didn’t tell anyone I was out for plastic surgery—just in case things didn’t work out. That’s what happened. That’s what I was up to. That’s why I’ve changed so much. Absolutely brilliant surgeon. He not only fixed the burns, but he did a little nip-tuck alo
ng the way,” Lorna finished her prepared explanation. “Shall we head inside?”

  Melody was still speechless. Lorna hooked her by the arm and pulled her into the library. On their way up the stairs and into the back office, they passed half a dozen employees. The other workers wondered who this gorgeous stranger was in their midst and then did a double-take when they realized that it was Lorna.

  By the time Lorna reached the office, a gaggle of fifteen coworkers was crowded around her with a loud and rapid-fire stream of questions.

  “You were only out for two days. How did you heal so quickly? My mother was covered up with bandages for weeks.”

  “My surgeon was a real miracle worker,” Lorna demurred.

  “I’ll say! No offense. You look as young as my nieces and nephews.”

  “So, what did he do? Nose, chin, cheekbones?”

  “Whatever adjustments he saw fit.” Lorna shrugged.

  “Your skin!”

  “I know.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “Well, if there were a Nobel Prize for plastic surgery, then I guess my doctor would get it.”

  “How did you find him?”

  “It was a referral, from Dr. Svenson here in town.”

  “I need his name. We need his name. I never thought I’d want such thing, but I really, really want to have my face done now.”

  At least a half-dozen faces nodded vigorously in agreement. As Lorna well knew, Lilith Hazelwood’s body parts were an extremely limited resource.

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you that he isn’t available for any more surgeries here. He lives in Finland. I just got lucky that he was over here for a family thing. But he won’t be coming back and it’s not elective surgery. His services are very expensive. I just got extremely fortunate that he needed someone to try out some of his experimental procedures with. It was a professional challenge for him. Pro bono. If I’d had to pay, it would cost half a million dollars.” Lorna hoped that she had settled on a suitably prohibitive amount.