Impassion

by B. C. Burgess

  A loud laugh grabbed her attention and she looked up, watching three people zoom into the air, halt, then take off again, racing one another around the clearing. Their details diminished as they picked up speed, turning into colorful blurs, which soared two laps before pulling upright.

  As the trio turned and descended to earth, Layla realized two of them were her cousins who worked at Cinnia’s café—Brietta and Banning. The third was an unknown witch around Banning’s age—seventeen.

  Layla smiled as she watched them cross the lawn. Then she noticed they were headed her way and grew antsy. Apparently three years of loneliness had cursed her with a case of social anxiety. Quin stretched his fingers, carefully entwining them with hers, and she squeezed, glad she had someone holding her in place when she was so tempted to run.

  Banning reached the rose garden and quickened his pace, half-jumping half-flying onto the porch. Layla blinked, but stood firm, unsurprised by the enthusiastic approach.

  “Hey, Layla,” he greeted, a rambunctious ring to his fully matured voice.

  Comforted by his youthful attitude, Layla smiled. “Hi, Bann.”

  “You look nice,” he offered.

  “Thanks,” she returned, cheeks growing warm.

  He flashed a bright smile then flipped his baby blues to Quin. “Who won? Bri thinks she’s the goddess of the skies and beat us by a mile… Ow!” He shook his hand and glanced over his shoulder. “Damn, sis.”

  Nearly as hyper as her brother, Brietta bounded onto the porch and grabbed his hand. “That’s what you get for telling lies,” she scolded, but it sounded more like a song. She examined his palm then threw it down. “I didn’t hurt you. It was a teeny, tiny shock. Hi, Layla. It’s good to see you again.”

  “You, too,” Layla offered, mesmerized by Brietta’s multicolored, green eyes, just like the first time she’d seen them. She’d been in line at Cinnia’s Café in Cannon Beach—following the trail of bread crumbs her dad left her—when she’d come face-to-face with her first witch. “Should I call you Bri or Brietta?”

  “Either way. Sorry about the weird looks at the café the other night. I was shocked and really confused.”

  “I know the feeling,” Layla quipped.

  Brietta laughed, loudly and beautifully. “I bet. Anyway, we’re glad you’re here.” She wrinkled her nose and elbowed Banning in the ribs. “I need some competition in the air. Bann’s falling behind.”

  “You’re full of it,” Banning argued, ruffling her blond hair. “Tell her, Quin. Deflate this huge head of hers.”

  “Can’t do it,” Quin refused. “It wasn’t by a mile, but there’s no doubt she won.”

  “Ha,” Brietta taunted.

  Banning scowled and pulled her into a headlock. “Quin and Layla need to fly up there and serve you some humble pie.”

  He let go, and Brietta came up laughing. “Quin doesn’t count, but I might have a chance against the newbie. What do you say, Layla? Wanna race?”

  “Oh,” Layla mumbled, stomach somersaulting. She didn’t think she could make herself fly in front of all these people if her life depended on it.

  She was about to stutter a lame refusal when Quin cut in. “Not right now, Bri, but soon enough, so start practicing humble defeat.”

  “Tough to do when I’m racing slowpoke,” Brietta replied, jabbing her brother again.

  “Don’t forget Sky,” Quin countered, nodding toward the witch on the stairs. “I think she’s found her wings.”

  At the mention of her name, the witch leapt onto the porch. “Thanks, Quin.” She turned toward Layla, smiling as she held out a hand. “Hi, Layla. I’m Skyla Mochrie—Quin’s cousin.”

  Skyla, of course, was very pretty, the kind of girl all the boys want to date but can’t find the guts to ask out. Alternating between soft spirals and smooth strands, her hair looked like a waterfall of cinnamon and sugar, but her most noticeable feature was her inky blue eyes. Almond shaped and framed by long, glittering lashes, they were huge, like an endless night sky.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Skyla,” Layla returned, shifting her attention to the birds on her shoulders. Both had bright yellow heads, but one had a lime-green body while the other was turquoise.

  “Call me Sky,” she insisted. “These are my parakeets—Blue and LaLa.”

  “They’re beautiful,” Layla mumbled, in awe of their tame nature.

  “Thank you,” Skyla replied. Then she looked at Quin and pointed a thumb at Brietta and Banning. “So you think I have a chance against these two?”

  “Bann needs to worry,” Quin answered, “but catching Bri will take some work.”

  “Come on, man,” Banning argued. “Us guys have to stick together against these pixies.”

  “Not this time,” Quin countered. “Sky was less than a foot behind you.”

  “That’s because I carry more weight,” Banning claimed.

  Skyla giggled and poked his hard stomach. “Yeah you do, fatty.”

  In a flash of movement, Banning grabbed Skyla around the waist and tucked her under his arm. “Rematch time,” he challenged, shooting off the porch.

  Brietta laughed at Skyla’s flailing legs then turned back to Layla. “Sure you don’t want to join?”

  “It looks like fun,” Layla replied, “but I need more practice before joining a race. Besides, I still have a lot of people to meet before dinner.”

  “I guess you do. That’s okay. We have plenty of time. I’m excited you’re here. Sky’s great, but it will be nice having a witch closer to my age around.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty, so we should have lots in common. We’ll have to hang out soon.”

  “Definitely,” Layla agreed.

  Brietta grinned then glanced over her shoulder. “Guess I’ll let you get on with it. See you in a bit.” She flipped backward off the porch, landing on the walkway for a split second. Then she shot into the air, joining Banning and Skyla for another race.

  Layla laughed at her sprightly exit then smiled at Quin. “They seem like fun.”

  “They are,” he confirmed. “Are you ready to meet the others?”

  “Sure. Let’s see my grandparents first then go from there.”

  “Good plan,” he agreed, leading her down the stairs.

  As they approached Layla’s grandparents, the four of them stood and walked forward, accompanied by a fat, silver cat and a droopy basset hound.

  “Hi, sweetie,” Morrigan beamed, pulling Layla into a hug. “You look lovely this evening.”

  “Thank you,” Layla replied, turning toward Daleen, who also pulled her in.

  “I’m so excited for you,” Daleen whispered. “This night is going to be so special.”

  Layla smiled at her then moved to her grandfathers, standing up straight as she glanced between them. Not until she was within their reach did it occur to her how much she’d missed them.

  “Hey,” she greeted, “I missed you guys today.”

  Caitrin stepped forward and wrapped her in strong arms. “We missed you, too, sweetheart. Morrigan tells me you’re the most amazing witch she’s ever seen. I hear you made hard things look simple.”

  “Morrigan’s opinion is biased, but I think I did okay.”

  “From what I hear, okay doesn’t cut it.”

  “Of course it doesn’t,” Serafin agreed.

  Layla turned and wrapped Serafin’s waist in a tight hug. “Your opinion is biased, too.”

  “Yes it is,” he confessed, giving her a gentle squeeze.

  He let go, and Morrigan stepped forward, taking Layla’s shoulders. “Let me introduce you to some of our coven members.”

  “Okay,” Layla agreed, gluing her smile in place.

  They faced the nearby chairs, and Morrigan pointed to the first person on the left. “This is Kemble Kavanagh—Quinlan’s dad.”

  Kemble stood and stepped forward, smiling as his warm hand enveloped Layla’s. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Layla. We’ve been waiting
a long time for the opportunity.”

  Not only did Layla recognize Kemble from her parents’ memories, but by his similarities to his son—dark hair, dark eyes, and fetching dimples.

  “I feel like I’ve already met you,” she confessed. “I saw you in my parents’ memories.”

  “I’m honored,” Kemble replied, intently searching her face. Then he glanced at Caitrin. “She is a little piece of Rhosewen, isn’t she?”

  “More than a little,” Caitrin confirmed.

  “Rhosewen was a special witch,” Kemble added, finding Layla’s eyes. “We’re blessed to have her daughter with us at last.”

  “I feel blessed to be here,” Layla replied, and she meant it. She remained nervous, but her heart filled with wonder and warmth as she looked into eyes that witnessed so much of her mom’s life.

  “I’ll let you move on to the others,” Kemble offered, “before their patience runs dry.”

  “I should get on with it,” she agreed. “Or we’ll be here until morning. There are literally dozens of you.”

  Several people laughed, and Kemble gently squeezed her shoulder. “There’s always room for more, particularly one as lovely as you. Welcome home, dear.”

  “Thanks, Kemble. It’s good to be here.”

  From there Morrigan introduced Layla to six wizards related to Quin—his grandpa and great grandpa, his uncle and great uncle, and two cousins. One of the cousins had two wooly dogs at his feet, and Quin’s great grandpa Catigern had a hawk on his shoulder.

  The wizards remained in their chairs, but they reached out with friendly smiles, and Layla memorized their names and faces as she politely shook their hands. Remembering how they were related, however, was something that would take experience… and perhaps a little study time with a written family tree.

  Layla greeted the dogs last, happily rubbing their furry heads. Then Morrigan took her shoulders and turned her around. Four people stood at once, and Layla took a stumbling step back, but Morrigan’s dainty grip tightened and propelled her forward.

  “These fine witches and wizards are actually related to you,” Morrigan revealed, pointing to the woman on the left. “That’s Caitrin’s sister Cinnia, and her husband Arlen Giles; and that’s their daughter Enid, and her husband Kearny Gilmore. Enid and Kearny are Brietta and Banning’s parents.”

  Cinnia was the first to react, moving forward with shiny, turquoise eyes and a wistful smile. “Welcome,” she greeted, pulling Layla into a hug.

  “Oh,” Layla breathed, shivering as tingles ran from Cinnia’s arms into hers. Goose bumps stretched from her wrists to her shoulders, but she didn’t mention the odd occurrence. Instead, she hugged her great aunt back because it seemed like the right thing to do.

  “It’s so good to finally meet you,” Cinnia said, stepping away to get a better look.

  “You, too,” Layla returned. “Now I can thank you.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “Coffee. You’ve been supplying me with amazing coffee.”

  Cinnia laughed, loudly and beautifully like Brietta. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. I hear you have quite the weakness for coffee.”

  “Particularly yours. It’s the best I’ve had.”

  “Well anytime you need a jolt, just let me know.”

  “I don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into,” Layla warned.

  “I’d be delighted to find out,” Cinnia gushed, blindly reaching behind her. “Isn’t she wonderful, Arlen?”

  “We knew she would be,” Arlen agreed, stepping forward for a hug, which Layla accepted with reasonable comfort. “We’re glad you’re here,” he added. “It’s always a joy to welcome a new member. With you, the joy is tenfold.”

  “Hear, hear,” Cinnia advocated.

  “Thanks,” Layla replied, cheeks growing warm.

  “My turn,” Enid insisted, moving in for a hug, and it sent another tingle through Layla’s blood.

  “Welcome,” Enid whispered. “We’ve missed you so much.”

  When Enid leaned back, Layla found tears illuminating her multicolored eyes—steel gray lines bursting from her pupils like sunbeams over a powder blue background. Struck dumb by them, Layla didn’t notice Kearny’s approach until he spoke.

  “You look a lot like your parents,” he observed. “A blessed reminder of lost loved ones.”

  Layla found his eyes, which were also multicolored—forest green infused with pastel green swirls. “I can say the same,” she noted. “I saw you in the memories. You and my dad were close.”

  Kearny smiled and gave a nod. “Until Rhosewen swept him away.”

  “A trick her cousin quickly learned,” Layla noted, motioning toward Enid.

  “Indeed,” Kearny laughed, wrapping his arm around Enid’s shoulders. “Attending your dad’s wedding is the smartest decision I ever made. With your return, I reap yet another reward.”

  “The reward is mine,” Layla insisted.

  Morrigan stepped forward and took Layla’s hand. “These four and Brietta and Banning are your immediate family, but after tonight, you’ll call this entire coven family. If you ever need anything, we’re here to help, and we want you to ask.”

  Layla scanned the eleven people she’d just met, trying to ignore her warm cheeks. “That’s kind of everyone. I’m delighted to have such a big family.”

  “Your delight is important to us,” Caitrin asserted.

  Morrigan leaned close, hugging Layla as she whispered in her ear. “Need a break?”

  Layla shook her head no, so Morrigan stepped away and found Quin. “Would you like to introduce her to the others, Quinlan?”

  “I’d be honored,” he agreed, moving to Layla’s side. “If she’ll let me.”

  Layla looked over, wondering why he threw that last part in. “Sure,” she agreed, curbing her sarcasm.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Layla took his hand then turned to the others. “See you guys at dinner.”

  They waved goodbye, and Quin led her away, steering her toward a huge wooden table.

  After several silent steps, she looked up. “Why did you say that?”

  “Say what?”

  “If she’ll let me. You know better.”

  He scanned the air around her then found her eyes. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being overly friendly or presumptuous around the others.”

  Layla sighed and shook her head. “You can’t save me from embarrassment, Quin. It’s inevitable, so don’t tip-toe around me. I’m not saying you should pick me up and carry me, but you don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not.”

  He smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “So this is okay?”

  “If it’s okay with you, it’s more than okay with me.”

  He squeezed and kissed the top of her head. “How about that?”

  “It’s nice. I was already missing your touch. You’ve been spoiling me.”

  He pulled her hand to his lips, running kisses from her fingers to her wrist. “We could take a break and slip inside. I could touch you all over in there.”

  Heat from both embarrassment and desire rushed Layla’s veins. “Tempting, but maybe later.”

  “That’s an offer I can’t refuse,” he approved, raising his eyebrows.

  Layla timidly smiled, body flaming inside and out. “I still don’t see what you get out of the deal.”

  He lifted their hands and gave her bottom lip a tug. “Then you’ll have to look closer next time.”

  She hadn’t looked at all the last time. She’d closed her eyes when her shirt disappeared, and they didn’t open again until Quin stirred her from her dreams… dreams of him.

  “We’re almost to my mom,” he said, bringing her to a halt. “Would you like a chance to lighten your blush?”

  “Yes,” Layla mumbled, dropping her gaze to the ground. “Thanks for the warning.”

  He released her shoulders and touched her warm cheek. “Sure, but your worry is un
necessary. You’ll charm my mom as effortlessly as you charmed the others.”

  “Charmed?” she smirked. “Right. If that’s what you want to call it.”

  “I call it like I see it, and you’d see it, too, if you’d brave a glance at their auras. You leave a lasting impression, a lovely impression; there’s no reason to be embarrassed about it.”

  Layla looked at the group she’d just met and was rewarded with beautiful hazes filled with pink love, silver excitement, and her eye color. “You have a wonderful family,” she whispered, turning back to Quin. “It sheds light on why you’re so considerate. You’ve been raised by lovely people.”

  “And you’re about to meet the loveliest of them all,” he noted, leading her forward. “In my opinion anyway.”

  Layla looked forward as Quin released her hand and approached his mom, who had her back to them.

  “Time for a break,” he suggested.

  Her aura swelled as she spun around, wrapping his waist in a tight hug. “I felt my heart sigh, but I thought it was your dad.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “You know better,” she replied, patting his chest. Then they both turned toward Layla.

  “This is Cordelia,” he announced, “one of the sweetest witches you’ll ever meet.”

  The resemblances between mother and son were clear. Cordelia laid claim to Quin’s wavy hair, bronze skin, long lashes, and full lips. But her platinum hair and lilac eyes, which were more pink than purple, set her apart from the rest of the family.

  Two cats—one orange, one black—weaved through her legs until she ushered them aside and approached Layla. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” she greeted, pulling her into a hug. “We’ve waited far too long.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” Layla returned, “but it doesn’t really feel like the first time. I saw you in my mom’s memories.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. She was getting ready for her wedding, and you were feeding a tiny, baby Quinlan.”

  Cordelia’s expression turned wistful and quite lovely. “I remember… very clearly.” She cleared her throat and returned to the present. “We miss your mom around here, but it soothes the soul to finally have her daughter home.”