The Servant

by B. C. Burgess

  She struggled to keep her feet under her, grasping for reason and control. “Whatever it was, I didn’t handle it well. I felt like I was going crazy, like giving birth and killing all those people to get my babies back was just a dream. And when I realized what happened, the future… everything I fear crashed in on me.”

  Her ass hit the hallway wall. Then he pressed his thumb to her lips as he leaned closer. “Stop.”

  She furrowed her eyebrows, taken aback by the demand and unsettled by his smoldering gaze. When he made a fist with the fingers in her hair, she had no choice but to turn her head, so she stared down the hall as his lips hovered over her ear.

  “Just stop,” he whispered, sliding his right hand to her throat. “No more excuses, no more apologies, and no more talking. I did this. Now I’m following through.”

  “Even though I—”

  His grip tightened. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to let her know he meant it.

  “No talking,” he repeated, barely brushing her ear with his lips.

  She shut her mouth and closed her eyes.

  After hours of intimacy , Layla collapsed on Quin’s chest, worn out and missing her babies. He could tell, even if she didn’t say it or give him a reason to think she was in a hurry. Her colors started shifting the moment her tremors eased and she slumped into his hug.

  She turned her ear to his heart and mumbled across his pecs. “I could so take a nap right now.”

  He smiled and swept her hair out the way. “We could. We should have about an hour before feeding time.”

  She remained silent, which meant she was contemplating it, and he ran his hands down her thighs, tempting her further by healing stretched muscles and helping her relax.

  “Mind search them,” she decided. “Make sure we have time, and tell them not to give them another bottle.”

  He kept her on his chest while mind searching her grandma. ‘Morrigan?’

  ‘Quinlan,’ she greeted, and even her mental voice sounded like a happy song.

  Her good mood was a positive sign, and Quin breathed a sigh of relief as he went on. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘My heart’s too full to even begin to answer that. These babies have wiggled their way into every fiber of my being, and I never want them to leave.’

  ‘You and Layla have a lot in common. She’s missing them.’

  ‘I bet. I’ve been taking care of them for one afternoon, and I’d move heaven and earth to do it again.’

  ‘Did they fight the bottles?’

  ‘A little, but they gave in with some coaxing from their great-grandmas.’

  That time her mental voice was dripping with adoration, and Quin figured she was holding one of the babies as she communicated with him.

  ‘Are they on schedule?’ he asked.

  ‘Close,’ she answered. ‘A little behind. You probably have an hour or so.’

  ‘Perfect. Don’t give them any more bottles. If they get hungry before we get there, mind search me.’

  Despite her desire to babysit, Morrigan easily agreed, so Quin severed the mind search and returned his focus to Layla. Her aura had slowed, her breathing had deepened, and her muscles were fluid, no evidence of worry or tension.

  He summoned a sheet and laid it over her back. Then he pulled a pillow under his head and relaxed.

  “I guess we have time?” she asked.

  He laid one hand on her butt as the other dipped into silky curls. “Yep, and I can’t think of a better way to end a perfect trip to heaven.”

  She lazily laughed as she kissed his heart. “I wasn’t perfect, but the rest was.”

  He opened his mouth to object, but she reached up and laid a palm over his lips. “Don’t. This isn’t an apology or an excuse, so I don’t want you to reassure me. I know I had your forgiveness the second I messed up, but I did mess up. You were so sweet to organize this, to give me everything I want but wouldn’t take, and you did everything right. You took the weight off my shoulders, and that’s exactly what I needed. I know you don’t require a thank you, and just saying it isn’t enough, so how about this – from now until March, I’ll skip one or two feedings a week so we can make time for this.”

  She lifted her palm from his mouth, allowing him to speak, but it took several seconds for him to find his voice. “The immense love behind that offer doesn’t escape me.”

  “I can tell.”

  “I’m sure you can. There’s no way this feeling isn’t blazing in my aura. But as happy as your offer makes me, you know I’d never hold you to it.”

  “I do know.”

  Following another kiss to his chest, she returned her ear to his heart, and he played with her hair while letting his eyelids fall over the soul-soothing view of her peaceful aura.

  Layla awoke with sore breasts and an undeniable longing to see and kiss her kids, but she was happy and rested, and for the first time in months, she felt at home in her skin, as if she’d reunited with a woman long buried beneath a mountain of burdens. For too long she’d been playing roles forced upon her – a pawn for the Crusaders, a target for the Dark Guild, the earth’s angel – and she’d devoted her body to her kids while nurturing them with every ounce of sanity she had left. But in her scramble to be what the world needed, she’d lost herself, living every minute for someone else, replacing desire with guilt and trudging along like it was normal, as if she wasn’t teetering on the edge of a breakdown and doubting her mental fortitude. When Quin stole her away from the world, he’d given her a chance to breathe, and in reconnecting with him, she’d reconnected with herself, a woman who was more human than an angel, more lover than fighter, and far needier than she liked to admit. She was a woman in love, and she thrived on intimacy with the man she’d fallen in love with. To neglect that side of her discarded an important piece of her heart, a piece that had been there from the beginning and was rooted deeper than the rest.

  Quin’s fingers curled around her hair, and she took a deep breath while letting his pulse echo in her head and vibrate through her blood. When she peeked at him, his sexy lips curved into an easy smile that stretched into his dark eyes.

  “Your aura,” he whispered. “It’s blowing my mind.”

  She glanced at his bright and shiny colors, thinking hers couldn’t possibly compare. “Is it different than usual?”

  “Yes. Between Aradia’s cleansing rituals and our afternoon together, you’re brighter than I’ve ever seen you. I can’t wait to see how you light up when we get our kids back.”

  “I miss them.”

  “Me, too.”

  “But I loved our afternoon together. I needed it more than I thought.”

  “We’ll do it again soon, but it doesn’t always have to be like this. If we can’t get an entire day to ourselves, or if you don’t feel like skipping a feeding, we’ll work around the triplets’ schedule and find ways to connect between our trips to heaven.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “So… a taste of heaven?”

  His grin widened. “Exactly. It will keep us going until we get there.”

  “I like that idea, but we’ve tried and failed in the past.”

  “We’ll get better. Just keep trying for me, and I’ll keep trying for you.”

  “Deal.”

  “But for now,” he whispered, pulling her up his body until her lips were an inch from his, “it’s time to go get our babies.”

  The notion made her giddy, and she couldn’t stifle her excited smile. “I’m ready.”

  He laughed while pulling her into a kiss. Then he squeezed her ass before giving it a light slap. “Get dressed, but be prepared to drop your top, because they’re hungry.”

  She gave him another kiss before climbing out of bed, and her magic made it easy to clean up while she scanned her wardrobe for something loose. She quickly chose a long tank dress and summoned it onto her body, but the moment the material touched her nipples, they sprang leaks.

  “No,” she panicked, vanishing the gown and cup
ping her breasts. “Stop.”

  Quin flew around the corner, and she stumbled back as he jerked to a halt. His gaze slid over her and flipped around the closet. Then his forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Who are you talking to?”

  “My boobs! They’re leaking.”

  “Calm down,” he laughed, summoning a towel and handing it over. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  She halted the flow then carefully cleaned her mess. “I need this milk.”

  “There’s plenty to go around.” He found her dress on the floor and shook it out. Then he pulled a random pair of underwear from the dresser. “Here, use magic to put a layer of air between you and the material. We’ll take the towel with us.”

  “Okay. Sorry I scared you. I just really want to feed them.”

  “I know. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to have you back.”

  “I hope so. I love the way they hug me when they nurse.”

  “It’s a breathtaking sight.”

  She grinned while glancing up from her task. “Does it make you jealous?”

  “No. It makes me a lot of things, but jealous isn’t on the list. I do, however, look forward to the moment it’s my turn to hug them.”

  She laughed as she finished getting dressed. Then she narrowed the distance between them and took his jaw. “Right now my boobs are reserved for our babies, but you can come down here and love on my lips.”

  He grinned and leaned in, careful not to touch her breasts while giving her a soft kiss. “Mm… they’re sweeter.”

  Her lips curved around his as she played with his hair. “You can have them back in a little while. Benzio will be worn out from his long day, and I haven’t felt this rested in months.”

  He quietly laughed through one more kiss. Then he adjusted his shorts while motioning for her to exit the closet. “You’re turning me on. We better go before I vanish that dress.”

  She giggled as she scurried out of the house, pulling him along while traversing the lawn. Then she skipped up the stairs to her grandparents’ porch, jittery with anticipation. “Do they know we’re coming?”

  “Yeah,” Quin answered, opening the door.

  Layla rushed past him and flew through the foyer, her gaze darting around the busy living room. One, two… three babies – healthy and alert and swaddled in loving arms. Her heart sighed as her smile widened, and her eyes filled with happy tears as she approached Kaedan and showered him in kisses. She loved on Farrow next, then Lilyana, who opened wide to root at Layla’s cheek.

  “I’d say she’s ready for you,” Caitrin laughed, passing her over.

  Layla pulled her into a gentle hug, her eyes drifting shut as Lilyana’s familiar scent swirled up her nose. “I’m ready for her. I don’t know how it’s possible, but taking a break made me love them even more.”

  “Sit,” Morrigan insisted, leading Layla to the sofa. “You can feed them while I feed you.”

  Layla obeyed, and Quin took the spot next to her, visually searching his daughter since his hands were full with his sons. Layla noticed and pulled Lilyana from her shoulder, holding her up in front of Quin so they could get a good look at each other. Lilyana’s tongue rolled over her pout, still searching for food, but when she found her dad’s eyes, she blinked and gurgled.

  Quin smiled and kissed her nose. Then Layla cradled her on her thighs while getting situated. As soon as dinner was in sight, Lilyana began fussing for it, and she latched on as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. Even Kaedan managed to get a good flow within a couple of minutes, and tears trickled down Layla’s cheeks as she watched them hug her breasts, their tiny fingers kneading her cleavage.

  Quin caught Layla’s tears before they could fall on the babies. Then he turned his attention on Farrow, keeping him patient and entertained. “I guess nipple confusion isn’t an issue.”

  “I was worried,” Layla admitted, “but I don’t think they’ve ever latched on so fast.”

  Morrigan leaned over the back of the sofa, handing Quin a glass of water while smiling at the nursing infants. “It’s obvious they prefer you over bottles. The first time we offered them a fake nipple, they looked at us like we were crazy. It’s incredible how expressive they are.” She wrapped up the praise with a kiss to Layla’s head. Then she straightened and turned toward the kitchen.

  “I guess you enjoyed babysitting?” Layla asked, keeping her gaze glued to her children.

  “Don’t get me started,” Morrigan laughed. “Enjoyable doesn’t even come close to describing my day. I’ll be right back with sandwiches.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen, Caitrin followed, and Daleen and Serafin cleaned the living room while packing the babies’ satchel.

  “What Morrigan’s saying,” Daleen added, “is you can call on us to babysit anytime. It’s a good thing you had triplets, because we couldn’t get enough of them. Next time we’ll have to keep Benzio so we each have a great-grandbaby to love on.”

  Layla quietly laughed, glad her grandparents got the opportunity to do something they’d waited decades to do, but her focus stayed on her babies. Their auras permeated pure love and flowed toward her and each other, and the pull they had on her heart felt as physical as the suction they had on her breasts. It was heaven on earth. When she and Quin were together, he took her to another realm free of earthly troubles, but her babies grounded her, filling her reality with miracles.

  Too enraptured to eat, Layla kept her eyes down until the front door opened and Benzio ran in, already chattering about his day. When he reached Layla, his rambling paused, and he took care not to disturb Farrow’s meal while climbing onto the empty half of Layla’s lap. His small arms hugged her neck as he kissed her cheek, and she realized she’d missed him as much as she’d missed the triplets. The only difference was the biological connection she had to the infants, the one that kept them on her mind and set off alarms in her body when it was time to nurse.

  Quin had passed Kaedan and Lilyana to his parents, so he was ready when Benzio turned and jumped into a hug. Quin squeezed while asking about his day, and Benzio rushed to recount his time at the festival, his brain working faster than his mouth and taking him in directions that were tough to follow.

  Layla smiled at his excitement as she intently listened, and moisture once again filled her eyes, as if her heart could no longer contain the ocean of love stirred by her family. She’d never been more content, blessed with everything she needed and wanted, and though the moment was fleeting, vulnerable to the troubles that stalked her every move, it was a moment she’d always remember.

  Chapter Five

  The Vindicators claimed over a dozen hideouts in the U.S., and it had taken Alistair a month of listening to his dad bitch to locate them all. The vigilantes were far less organized than Alistair assumed, erasing any questions as to why they’d never taken on big threats; and since the majority of magicians were fun-loving hippies, the Vindicators spent more time talking about saving the world than actually doing so.

  Localized groups met up a few times a month in pub basements, hotel suites or forest shanties. Then they’d go over the minutes of the previous meeting and open the floor for concerns about magical crime. But more often than not, by the end of the meeting, they’d be drunk and gambling while planning parties to celebrate their good deeds.

  Invading the first few hideouts had been as simple as walking in. They housed the smaller chapters consisting of less than twenty members, and when the soused vigilantes were presented with the options to pledge their loyalty to the Dark Guild or parish, their true colors were revealed. Some of them were cowards and pissed themselves before submitting. Others were quick to switch sides, having joined the Vindicators for the sole purpose of exerting their power over others. A few of them tried to save face and claim morality, but none of them were prepared to die.

  Raid after raid, the Vindicators fell in line with the other new recruits, sharing their secrets and the locations of other hideouts, but they were slop
py fighters at best, and their skewed ideas of battle were naïve. Most of them had never faced a deadly threat until the Dark Guild entered their lives.

  Alistair kept his complaints to himself, biting his tongue every time he got an itch to ask his dad why they were putting so much effort into rounding up amateurs.

  Staying mum grew nearly impossible after the seventh raid, during which they invaded a private room of an Atlantic City casino only to find it empty. Evidence left behind pointed to the local chapter’s whereabouts, and Alistair rolled his eyes while going over the notes. “They’re working for the hexless. A crazy old bat by the looks of it.”

  A few ex-Vindicators were taking part in the raid, so Alistair called one of them forward. “Do the Vindicators have a habit of chasing the hallucinations of the hexless?”

  “Sometimes,” the soldier admitted. “If we… they… come across suspicious hexless reports that might involve magicians, they’ll investigate. Sightings of people flying; break-ins where the suspect vanishes into thin-air; locked room mysteries. Stuff like that.”

  Alistair continued to scowl while scanning the Vindicator’s report. “How about sasquatch sightings, alien abductions and running with werewolves? This woman’s obviously lost her mind.” He tossed aside the papers and took the dealer’s seat at a poker table. Then he shuffled the cards and passed out several hands. “Might as well get comfortable. We’ll have to wait until they return from their ghost hunt. So much for vigilantes seeking justice. They’re like children in a sleuth novel, making trouble by sticking their noses where they don’t belong.”

  He had to wait several hours before the local chapter returned from their ridiculous mission, and his patience was so thin he was tempted to kill the first asshole who walked in. The guy reeked of failure and regret, his head hung low and his shoulders hunched, but when he noticed the soldiers in royal-purple cloaks, he stumbled back and tried to make a run for it.

  Alistair snagged him with magic and yanked him into the room, and the rest of the Vindicators curiously followed, unaware of the threat. Guild members barred the exit before the newcomers could backtrack, and Alistair’s simmering impatience worked in his favor, gaining the captives’ compliance quicker than ever.