“What’s the occasion?” Quin asked.
“Spring break’s next week. The college crowd’s back.”
“Great,” Quin mumbled, even less enthused than before.
The island was exactly that – an island. The rocky land rose from the waves a few miles off the coast, and it supported enough vegetation to conceal a large crowd while muting their wild parties. Boats anchored near the shore would draw suspicion from the Coast Guard, but magicians flew in, leaving hexless authorities none the wiser.
The sun had fallen into the ocean by the time Quin descended through mist and branches and landed outside the party. Live music and hyper voices filled the atmosphere, and the gaps between the trees glowed with firelight and auras.
Quin scanned the masses while joining them, finding dozens of familiar faces and several strangers. “This is a bad idea.”
“Why?” Kegan asked, already summoning food from a buffet.
Quin glanced at the contents on Kegan’s plate. “Do you even know who made that?”
“Yeah. Bri.”
Quin looked toward the food, finding not only Brietta, but Skyla – his fifteen-year-old cousin. Most of the guests were old enough to be in college, and while Skyla had dressed to fit in, she was one of the youngest in the crowd. “Yeah, this is a bad idea.”
“Why?” Kegan repeated, smiling and winking at Brietta.
“Because,” Quin answered, “fights always break out at parties like this.”
“So?”
Quin’s jaw tightened as he continued searching the guests. He’d already spied half a dozen hungry stares directed at his little cousin, and one of them came from a loud wizard Quin didn’t know. Considering his close friendship with Weylin, Quin could accept the stranger’s rowdiness, but Skyla was off limits. Quin felt conflict brewing, and he was in the mood to fight.
“Relax,” Kegan insisted. “Wey and I got you a bottle.”
“Not just any bottle,” Weylin added, stuffing his face with a sandwich while pulling liquor from his bag. “Twenty-year-old scotch for your twentieth birthday. Shipped in from Scotland last week.”
Quin summoned himself a sandwich and took the bottle, recognizing the label of a magical family renowned for their spirits. Quin had met the family and toured their business during a trip to Europe with his parents. Now his dad got regular shipments from them, but he rarely invested in bottles as rare as the one Quin held in his hand.
“This is incredible, guys. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Weylin returned. “We expect a shot.”
“Then you’ll have one. Find us some glasses.”
With food in their bellies and the party in full swing around them, one shot quickly turned into six, and Quin’s enslaved heart and mind couldn’t stop his body from relaxing. Weylin had claimed a portion of a table, saying they couldn’t drink such high quality scotch while sitting on the ground, and though conversation flowed easily, he eventually pulled cards and dice from his bag, always hunting for a competition.
Brietta and Skyla had joined them, cautiously at first, because they knew Quin didn’t want Skyla at the adult party, but he kept his mouth shut, and they pretended his disapproval didn’t exist.
“Happy birthday,” a witch sang out, hugging Quin’s shoulders.
The moment he saw her aura and got a whiff of her, he knew it was Caitlyn, so his tension eased as he patted her arm. “Thanks, Cait.”
“You’re welcome.” She straightened and opened her palm in front of his face, revealing a joint big enough to share. “Light it up. It’s my grandpa’s newest strain. He told me to tell you happy birthday.”
“Tell him I said thanks,” Quin returned, accepting the herb. Then he held up his bottle. “Shot?”
“Sure.”
More friends sat down. Then Weylin’s competitive spirit drew in a few wizards, but the women outnumbered the men two to one, and everywhere Quin looked, he found flesh – beautiful, seductive, feminine flesh.
Weylin glowed in the sea of women, and Kegan freely flirted, mostly with Brietta, but Quin fought the temptation to spread his affection around. Casual sex without regret required a perceptive eye, a cautious plan, and preferably a witch he wouldn’t see every week for the rest of his life. Currently he was stoned, well on his way to being drunk, missing a woman he’d never met, and the majority of the witches at the party were locals. Getting sexually involved with one of them right now was a horrible idea.
He caught sight of some nearby cleavage and forgot what he was thinking. Then he shook his head and looked at his liquor. Horrible idea.
Weylin’s games continued, and Quin concentrated on winning so he wouldn’t get swept up in the feminine tides. It worked for a while, long enough for him to throw back a few shots and smoke more herb, but when Brietta, Skyla and the rest of their close female friends walked away, Weylin jabbed Quin in the ribs and broke his concentration.
“You know what you need?”
“Don’t say it,” Quin warned.
Weylin continued as if he didn’t hear. “A witch.”
Well, that was true, but the witch Quin needed couldn’t be found. “I’ve had plenty.”
“I didn’t say witches. I said a witch. You need to stick with one for a while.”
Kegan nearly choked on his booze. “Yeah, right.”
“Seriously,” Weylin pressed. “I’ve been trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, Quin. There’s only one answer.”
Quin took his turn in their card game, wary of the path Weylin travelled. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“Bullshit. Anyone can see you’re missing something, but you have everything. Except…”
“Drop it, Wey.”
Weylin lowered his glass and cards to the table and gave Quin his full attention, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Tell me this isn’t about those damn dreams.”
Every inch of Quin reacted. His muscles tightened, his teeth clenched, his heart sped up, and his breaths came thick and hot. “You’re in dangerous waters, Weylin. Turn back.”
“Son of a bitch,” Weylin disapproved. “It is about the dreams.”
“Hey,” Kegan interrupted, knocking on the table in front of Weylin. “You’re begging to get your ass kicked. Drop it or he’ll bust a twenty-year-old bottle of scotch over your thick skull, and I’m going to laugh, because you know better.”
Weylin sighed and picked up his cards. “Fine. But I stand by what I said. You need a witch, someone like…” He glanced around and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Someone like Caitlyn.”
Quin shook his head and poured himself another shot. “Cait’s too sweet for me.”
“She doesn’t think so.”
“I know, and I won’t prove her wrong by showing her what an asshole I am.”
“So you’re sticking to strangers?”
“Preferably. Much safer waters.”
“And fewer fish in the sea.”
“I have no problem catching them.”
“Oh, yeah? When’s the last time you reeled one in?”
Fuck. It had been a while, much longer than Quin would admit to Weylin during their current conversation. In hopeful anticipation of Layla’s homecoming, Quin had been trying to curb his fondness for… fishing, so he’d turned down his last few acceptable opportunities.
His refusal to reply gave Weylin all the information he needed, and he laughed while taking his turn in the game. “A man’s hand can be his best friend or his worst enemy.”
Quin raised his glass and swished the liquor. “I must be drunk. Wey just said something smart.”
“How drunk are you?” Kegan asked, glancing over Quin’s shoulder.
Quin furrowed his eyebrows and assessed his condition. “I could still kick Weylin’s ass. Why?”
“Just wondering. It’s your turn.”
Quin studied his cards, and Kegan began talking to another local about the noisy stranger Quin noticed when they arrived. “Hey, Liam
. The cocky loudmouth to the right of the band – you know him?”
“Met him earlier,” Liam answered. “Name is uh… Vin, I think.”
“Is Vin related to a local coven?”
“No. I overheard him say he’s here with a friend he met in college, a wizard from Jackson County.”
“Do you know how old he is?”
“Recently turned twenty-four. Why?”
“Because,” Kegan answered, pushing out his chair, “he’s about to start a fight.”
Quin curiously raised an eyebrow and twisted around. “I told you fights break out at parties like this…”
His voice trailed off as he narrowed his eyes on Vin, who had Skyla backed up against a tree. She clearly wanted to distance herself from him, and Brietta had Skyla’s hand and was trying to help, but Vin stretched an arm between them and pressed his palm to the bark, blocking Skyla’s escape. She and Brietta had been navigating the situation gracefully, but as Vin invaded Skyla’s personal space, she got scared, and Brietta got mad, gearing up to fight the wizard looming over them.
Quin was on his feet before making the decision to stand, and while his coordination was slightly hindered, and the edges of his vision were a little out of focus, he was still faster and more dexterous than most.
Barely aware of his surroundings, he crossed the clearing, the music growing louder as he got closer to the band, the drums vibrating his fiery blood and thrumming in time with his frantic heart. He thought he heard Kegan shout from behind him, but he couldn’t be sure. All his focus was on Skyla, the fear and regret in her expression and aura. In the fifteen years he’d watched her grow, he’d never seen such unsettling emotions in her. They sucked the air from his lungs, heightening the urgency to act.
“Hey!”
Skyla’s gaze widened on Quin before flipping to Brietta, who groaned and rubbed her head. “Oh, no.”
Their distraction got Vin’s attention, and he rotated, letting his hand fall from the bark. Brietta yanked Skyla out of harm’s way, and the base of Quin’s palms dug into Vin’s chest, shoving him into the tree.
The music died as Vin’s breath escaped with a huff, his head rattled by surprise, but he immediately bounced back and started swinging. Quin dodged a few sloppy punches, waiting for his opening, and when he found it, he took it, making contact with Vin’s nose.
The adrenaline pumping through Quin’s veins compelled his fist back, positioning it for another hit, but Vin was on the ground, gasping and cupping his face with both hands.
“Stay down,” Quin warned, stretching his bruised knuckles.
He glanced at Brietta and Skyla, making sure they were okay. Then someone called out from the crowd and pushed through.
“Whoa,” Weylin and Kegan objected, stopping the wizard’s approach.
Quin recognized him – Wyatt, a member of a coven in Jackson County, near Oregon’s southern border. “Did this piece of shit come here with you?” Quin asked.
“Yeah,” Wyatt answered. “What’s going on?”
Quin stepped closer to Vin, looking down into his watery, bloodshot eyes. “The witch you just had pinned against that tree – did she tell you how old she is?”
Vin was too guilty and befuddled to come up with a lie, and Quin’s muscles swelled as his blood boiled, tempting him to take the stranger by the collar and break more than his nose, but he kept the rage bottled up while motioning toward Wyatt. “Get your friend out of here before I kill him.”
Weylin and Kegan stepped aside, and Wyatt cautiously walked forward. “Fine. Just calm down.”
Vin mumbled a string of curses while clumsily pushing himself off the ground, his drunken dizziness enhanced by busted cartilage, and Quin worked on breathing evenly so he wouldn’t shove the bastard back down.
“I don’t know what happened here,” Wyatt said, donning his cloak and raising the hood, “but I expect it to end here. My coven respects yours, Quin. Let’s keep it that way.”
“Then don’t bring that asshole around again.”
Wyatt threw a pointed glance at Skyla and Brietta. “Vin’s not the only person here with questionable judgment.”
Quin’s chest rumbled as he stepped forward, making Wyatt flinch. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. Now get the fuck out of here.”
“We’re going,” Wyatt assured, urging Vin to back up.
Once they had a few feet of clearance, they wisely took flight, and the bystanders shifted while gossiping about the drama.
Quin stared into the timber, trying to cool his temper, but when Skyla squeaked his name, he snapped. “What are you doing here, Sky?”
Her mouth fell open as she fumbled for a response, but Quin had no patience for it and looked at Brietta. “What were you thinking bringing her here? Look around you. Does this look like a high school party? You dress her like that and lead her into a pack of wolves like she’s fresh meat; you should have known this would happen.”
Moisture flooded Skyla’s eyes as her lips quivered, and Brietta blinked back her own tears as her chest swelled. “You’re being a jerk, Quin. You know what just happened wasn’t our fault, and you don’t get to dictate Sky’s life.”
“I do when I’m saving her from a wizard nearly a decade older than her.”
“We could have handled him ourselves. We didn’t need you coming over here and pissing all over the place.”
“Handled him? He’s twice your size. You’d already let it get too far. He had you both cornered, and with the band playing, no one would have heard you scream.”
Kegan stepped between them and placed a hand on Quin’s chest. “That’s enough, man.”
Quin pushed Kegan’s hand away and pointed at Brietta. “Take her home. Now.”
Brietta tilted her chin, stubborn as always, but Skyla was on the brink of bawling and ready to run away.
Kegan moved into Brietta’s line of sight while closing the distance between them. “Come on, hon. I’ll fly you home.”
“Fine,” Brietta conceded. “I have to go get my grandma’s dishes from the buffet.”
She wrapped one arm around Skyla’s shoulders while walking away, and Kegan waited for them to move through the crowd before looking at Quin. “You owe them an apology.”
Quin was fully aware he’d mishandled the situation, but he was still too pissed to apologize for it. He’d have to make up for it later. “Just get them home. I need a drink.”
He walked away, ignoring the stares and whispers as he returned to the table. Then he sat and poured himself a double. As his outburst subsided, he realized guilt and terror had fueled his anger toward Brietta and Skyla – two witches he loved more than life. Guilt and terror mixed with scotch and adrenaline. What if he and Kegan weren’t there? Brietta and Skyla could have been pulled into the trees by a stranger much older and bigger than them. They’d come too damn close for comfort, and Quin was too wrapped up in his own problems to know it was happening. The entire situation and its possible outcomes scared the hell out of him, but Brietta was right – he couldn’t dictate Skyla’s life. She was growing up, and he’d made a big mistake by berating her so harshly in front of a crowd. The last thing he wanted was for Skyla to hide from him or fear calling on him for help.
“Did you get the fire out of your system?” Weylin asked, taking a seat across from Quin.
“No,” he mumbled, pouring Weylin a shot. “Are they gone?”
“Yeah. Keg went with them.”
“Good.”
“He told me to tell you happy birthday.”
“I’m surprised. He’s not happy with me.”
“He’s hung up on Bri, but he knows where you’re coming from on this. Skyla’s too young to be here.”
“She is, but she and Brietta are close, so I know why she wants to be here.”
“So maybe you slightly overreacted.”
“There’s no maybe about it. Vin deserved what he got, but I messed up with Bri and Sky.”
“It’s okay
to show you’re human once in a while, Quin. I don’t know why you try so damn hard to keep your slate clean. It’s like you’re always waiting for judgment day.”
Not judgment day. Layla. He was waiting for an angel, and when she showed up, he didn’t want her finding a man mired in sin and burdened by regret. But what if she never showed? How long would he live his life for a woman he’d never met? The option of giving up on her churned his stomach, so he settled it by smoking what was left of Caitlyn’s joint.
“I’ve been an ass all day,” he admitted. “My slate’s feeling pretty damn dirty.”
Weylin raised his eyebrows and motioned for someone to join them. Then he found Quin’s stare and grinned. “So what’s the harm in another mark? This is Angeline,” he added, introducing the woman sliding into the seat next to Quin. “She’s from Florida, but she currently lives in Asia and hardly ever makes it to Oregon to visit her distant cousins. Angeline, this is Quin, a man who never fails. Today is his twentieth birthday.” He paused and tossed back the shot Quin had poured him. Then he slapped the table and got to his feet. “I’ll let you two get to know each other better.”
Quin bit his tongue, his nostrils flaring as he watched Weylin stroll away. Then he donned a polite smile and looked at Angeline. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she returned, resting her elbow on the table and propping her chin in her palm. She had adventurous blue eyes; wavy hair the color of a blood moon; and the kind of lips that would look perfect wrapped around his cock. “Your friend is really forward.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Quin agreed, averting his gaze from her mouth. “Do you know why he called you over here?”
“Because I wanted to meet you.”
Quin focused on her aura and studied its flow. “This was your idea?”
“Yeah. When he found out where I was from, he pointed you out and said we’d get along, so I told him to introduce me. I noticed you were… alone. When a witch goes out of town, she has to be careful not to upset the local women by moving in on their men.”
“Smart.”
“It’s also the right thing to do.”
Quin tipped his glass toward her. “To the right thing.”
Quin 2 (The Mystic Series) Page 2