H. M. Hoover

empathist n.	1979 H. M. Hoover Lost Star viii. 44 The eyes narrowed as it concentrated on the wound; the face lost its clownlike expression and became still with some kind of knowing. The soreness went away, and as she watched, the discoloration around the wound cleared. ‘Hypnosis?’ she said as the lumpie released her. ‘Or are you an empathist? If you can do that...’ She pointed to her black eye. ‘That hurts, too.’