Impassion

by B. C. Burgess

  Chapter 16

  “WHAT TIME IS IT?” LAYLA asked, still cradled in Quin’s arms as he landed on the deserted lawn.

  Quin lowered her feet to the ground and took her hand, leading her home. “Around midnight.”

  “Oh no,” she whispered. “I didn’t get to talk to Travis today.”

  “You didn’t talk to him earlier?”

  “He didn’t answer.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll get to talk tomorrow.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed, feeling like she’d forgotten something. Then she remembered mid-stride. “Oh!”

  “What?” Quin asked, flashing his gaze over her aura.

  “I forgot to tell someone. I can’t believe I forgot.” She slapped her forehead, flustered by her recent absentmindedness. Until Quin came along, sweeping her into a blissful world absent responsibility, she had the sharpest memory of anyone she knew.

  Quin took her shoulders and turned her toward him. “Tell someone what?”

  “I talked to the man in charge of selling my house,” she explained. “Actually, he’s in charge of more than that. You could say he’s my financial lawyer. Anyway, he said a man came to his office looking for me, and the way he described him, he could have been talking about a wizard.”

  Quin straightened and tightened his grip. “What did he look like?”

  “Like the rest of you—tall and muscular. And he had long red hair and yellow eyes...”

  Quin cursed and turned, forcing her to follow as he crossed her rose garden.

  “Hey,” she objected. “Where are you going?”

  “To Caitrin. What else did your lawyer say?”

  “I don’t want to wake them up. We can tell them tomorrow.”

  “What else did he say?”

  “The guy wanted to know where I’d moved. That’s it.”

  “Did your lawyer tell him?”

  “No, and it made him angry, but he just walked away.” She huffed and pulled on his hand. “There’s no reason to wake them up, Quin.”

  “They would want you to wake them,” he countered.

  She dug her heels in and pulled harder. “Quin, stop. You’re scaring me.”

  She’d found his emergency brake, and he came to a halt, softening his expression as he faced her. “I don’t want you to be frightened, but this situation warrants it. It would be foolish to be unafraid.”

  “We don’t know that there’s anything to be afraid of.”

  “It’s not safe to assume there isn’t. On the other hand, it doesn’t hurt to prepare for trouble that may or may not come.” He started walking again, urging her along. “It’s best to be alert to the possible risks so we can make plans to protect ourselves.”

  “I get that, Quin. But don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

  He stopped on Caitrin’s landing and took her cheeks. “No. If you’re in danger, I’m not doing enough.” He abandoned her cheeks then turned toward the door, ringing the doorbell twice.

  The lights flipped on, and Layla rubbed the side of her neck, feeling like a teenager busted for underage drinking by the sheriff. She was guilty and scared and nervous and wanted to go home and curl up in bed

  “They would want us to come straight here with this information,” Quin reassured.

  Despite the encouragement, Layla’s cheeks burned when Caitrin opened the door, his bare chest inflated as he worriedly scanned her face and aura.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, ushering her inside. “Are you okay?”

  Morrigan rushed forward, taking Layla from Caitrin as she scanned the air around her company. “What’s wrong with you two?”

  Caitrin turned to Quin, and Layla knew by her grandfather’s tense posture and pulsing aura that his calm demeanor was cracking. “Why do you look like this, Quinlan?”

  Before Quin could answer, Serafin and Daleen flew downstairs. “What’s going on?” they demanded, flocking to Layla, who huffed and threw her hands in the air.

  “Everyone needs to calm down.” The room came to a standstill, and Layla flashed Quin an aggravated glance. “I’m fine. There is no emergency.”

  “That’s not true,” he countered.

  Layla scowled at him, but he just shook his head. “You can look at me like that all you want. It doesn’t change anything.”

  She rolled her eyes then headed for the couch, running a hand across the top of a baby grand piano along the way. Unable to curb her attitude, she flopped down on the sofa and crossed her arms, but then she softened when Caitrin’s basset hound curled up on her feet and Daleen’s cat stretched out on her thigh.

  Layla looked from the animals to Quin and raised her eyebrows. “Don’t keep them up any longer than you have to. Tell them what you need to tell them so they can go back to bed.”

  Quin moved to the couch and sat beside her. “I’m sorry you’re upset, but this is something we can’t ignore.” He kissed her hand then looked at her grandparents. “Layla’s lawyer might have been visited by a wizard.”

  Daleen and Morrigan gasped, clapping their hands over their mouths, and Serafin and Caitrin tensed, letting the curses flow.

  After a moment of heavy silence, Daleen shooed her cat out of the way and sat to Layla’s left; Morrigan moved behind the sofa and took Layla’s shoulders; and Serafin and Caitrin exchanged glances as they sat on the coffee table.

  “Tell us everything,” Caitrin insisted.

  Layla made no effort to retell the story, so Quin told it for her. “A tall, muscular man, with long red hair and yellow eyes visited Layla’s lawyer, questioning her whereabouts. When the lawyer refused to tell him, the guy looked angry, but walked away.”

  “See?” Layla said. “Nothing to worry about. We’ll talk tomorrow.” She tried to stand, but Quin, Morrigan and Daleen pulled her back down.

  “This most certainly is something to worry about,” Daleen disagreed. “If that man’s a wizard, you could be in terrible danger.”

  “Did that community near Broken Bow get back to you?” Quin asked, looking at Caitrin.

  “What?” Layla blurted. “Broken Bow, Oklahoma?”

  “Yes,” Caitrin answered. “And no, they haven’t honored my request to speak with them.”

  “There’s a coven near Broken Bow?” Layla whispered.

  “Yes,” Caitrin and Quin confirmed. Then they turned back to each other.

  Stunned by the news, Layla made to rub her head, but her hands were anchored to the couch. “I’m not going anywhere,” she noted, looking between Quin and Daleen. “You guys can let go.”

  Serafin leaned forward, resting his tense jaw in his palm. “Maybe you should go.”

  “What?” Layla exclaimed. “Are you suggesting I leave the community?”

  “Just for a while,” he confirmed. “Until we know what’s going on.”

  Panic bubbled as hot tears blurred Layla’s vision. “But I don’t want to leave. I just got here. I just met everyone.” Her chest stuttered as she thought about leaving the magical home she’d already fallen in love with, the people she already cared so much about. “I don’t want to leave,” she weakly repeated.

  “Is that our only option?” Quin asked. “Surely there are other ways to deal with this.”

  Serafin cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. “If someone, particularly Agro, has found out about her, the only thing we can do is take precautions. Her leaving would be the most thorough safeguard.”

  Layla sternly met Serafin’s stare. “You’re not listening. I don’t want to leave.”

  “We know you don’t,” he sympathized, “and we don’t want you to go, but we can’t let Agro find you.”

  Serafin’s sorrowful expression squeezed Layla’s heart, but she didn’t budge. “Say he does find me—is he aiming to kill me?”

  “No,” Caitrin answered, summoning a wooden pipe as he stood. He filled and lit the pipe as he crossed the room. Then he began pacing and puffing, sending his smoke elsewhere with a wave of hi
s hand. “He doesn’t want you dead. He wants to use you.”

  “Well I won’t let him.”

  “He won’t ask permission. He’ll stop at nothing to get his hands on you.”

  Layla’s nostril’s flared as she steeled herself to be stubborn and rude. “I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere. If you’re that worried about it, we’ll just have to figure something else out.”

  Quin raised an eyebrow as one corner of his lips twitched. “You’re a fire cracker.”

  “So,” she shot back, keeping her shield up. Then a terrifying thought struck her and her armor shattered. “Will you guys be in danger if I stay?”

  Quin shook his head and tucked her under his arm. “Our risk is the same either way.”

  He looked at Caitrin, who paused and met his meaningful stare.

  “You heard her,” Quin asserted. “She’s not leaving, and we’re not going to make her, so we need to work out another way. What else can we do to keep her safe?”

  Morrigan had been wringing her hands. Now she straightened her shoulders and moved to the phone. “There’s much we can do, and we’ll do it all.” She hit the call button and looked at Layla. “When was this man asking questions?”

  “Yesterday,” Layla answered. “What are you doing?”

  “Putting the coven on alert.”

  “But it’s after midnight. You’ll wake everyone up.”

  “It’s okay, sweetie. They’d much rather I do it than the Unforgivables.”

  Layla’s throat swelled. “Do you really think they could show up any moment?”

  “Yes,” Quin answered. “If they’re searching for you, this community will be a priority for them.”

  “Then maybe I should leave. I don’t want the coven hurt by this.”

  “They’ll come whether you’re here or not.”

  “Maybe, but if I’m not here, they won’t have a reason to hurt anybody.”

  Serafin leaned forward and squeezed her knee. “The Unforgivables don’t need reasons. We’re in no more danger with you here than we would be with you gone.”

  “I’m not sure I believe that,” she argued. “If they show up, and you guys try to protect me, they could... what if they...” She huffed, wanting to stomp her feet, but Caitrin’s dog kept them pressed into the carpet. “I don’t want you guys hurt because of me, damn it.”

  “It’s our duty to protect our family,” Daleen insisted. “If facing the Unforgivables is what that entails, that’s what we’ll do.”

  “It’s not fair,” Layla protested, watching Morrigan disappear into the kitchen. “What is she saying to them?”

  “We’re placing guards around the community,” Caitrin answered.

  Layla cringed at the thought of her new family spending their days and nights guarding their property... all because of her.

  “Don’t,” Quin ordered.

  “Don’t what?” she mumbled.

  “Don’t feel guilty for being here,” he clarified.

  “No,” Daleen gasped. “Never feel guilty for being here. This is where we want you to be.”

  Layla bit a fingernail—something she hadn’t done since the day of Katherine’s funeral. “Easier said than done. My being here has flipped everyone’s lives upside down.”

  Quin sighed and looked at Caitrin. “I’m taking her home. Let me know if you find out anything.” He stood and nudged the droopy dog at Layla’s feet. “Move, Hypnos.”

  The dog whined then meandered to Caitrin, and Quin offered Layla his hand.

  But she didn’t take it. “Why should I go home and sleep when everyone else is being pulled out of bed and told to guard the community?”

  “Because this is a stressful situation,” Quin answered, kneeling and resting his hands on her knees, “and I can tell you’re feeling the pressure.”

  “So? What about the pressure on everyone else? It’s not all about me, you know? There are other people here.” Alana’s precious face appeared in her mind’s eye, and her hands and lips trembled. “I would never be able to live with myself if any of you were hurt because of me.”

  Quin ran a tense hand through his hair then rubbed his jaw. “How can I make you see, Layla? This isn’t your fault. If the Unforgivables are searching for you, they’ll come here no matter what we do. You being here merely gives us an advantage we wouldn’t have otherwise, because we know to expect them.”

  “Hear, hear,” Serafin advocated. “We’re far better off with you here, Layla, in more ways than one.”

  “Now please let me take you home,” Quin pleaded, squeezing her knees.

  “Fine,” she huffed, “but it’s still not right, me sitting at home while everyone else is getting worked up.”

  “Not worked up,” he disagreed. “Prepared.”

  “Whatever,” she mumbled, letting him pull her from the couch.

  “Are you working tomorrow, Quin?” Serafin asked, getting to his feet.

  Quin looked at Layla, who scowled back.

  “Don’t you dare say no,” she warned. “You’re not putting your life on hold for me.” Then she looked in the opposite direction.

  “I guess that’s your answer,” Quin sighed.

  “Daleen and I will be here,” Serafin noted. “Call if you want company, Layla, or if you need to talk.”

  Layla nodded, but she didn’t say anything, nor did she look at him.

  Quin glanced at the haze around her then tapped into Serafin’s mind. ‘You’ll stay close to her while I’m at work?’

  Serafin agreed with a nod. Then Caitrin’s pipe disappeared as he crossed the room. “If they get close, I want you both to disappear without a moment’s hesitation. No second thoughts, no brave acts. This is non-negotiable, Layla. You can’t be seen by them.”

  Again, Layla nodded but didn’t speak.

  “You, too, Quinlan,” Caitrin added. “You’d be in almost as much danger as her.”

  “What?” Layla blurted, whipping her gaze around.

  Quin squeezed his eyes shut then looked at Caitrin. “I wish you hadn’t said that.”

  “What is he talking about?” Layla demanded.

  Quin sighed and met her panicked stare. “I’m a bonded child. You know I’m at risk.”

  “But... you’re grown. My dad said the risk is minimal for adults.”

  “Agro preys on children because it’s harder for him to find loyalty in adults, but that doesn’t mean he won’t resort to more effective methods of manipulation when he finds one he wants.”

  “He’ll try to force you?”

  “That’s always a possibility with Agro, especially if you’re a bonded child.”

  Layla’s aura darkened and swelled as she spun away from everyone, her shoulders shaking over quiet sobs.

  “Please don’t cry over me,” Quin insisted, turning her into a hug.

  “You think I have a choice?” she countered. “This is horrible. I hate it.”

  “I know you do.”

  “Take me home. I want to go home.”

  “Gladly,” he agreed, lifting her feet from the floor.

  Caitrin opened the front door for them then followed them onto the porch. “Don’t take any risks, Quinlan. Her safety comes first. Keep your mind open until we tell you to slam it shut, and let us know if you leave her alone.”

  Quin nodded then descended the stairs, his heavy heart beating against Layla’s hot tears.

  When he got her home, he lowered her feet to the bedroom floor, and she wiggled from his arms, entering the bathroom without a word. He stayed put, waiting for her return, but she bypassed him and got into bed, burying her face in a pillow.

  Quin ran a hand over his jaw as he considered the predicament. Then he filled his lungs and walked to the side of the bed. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked, and he couldn’t help but hold his breath as he waited for the answer, his heart skipping an unhealthy amount of beats.

  “No,” she replied, and his vitals calmed.

  “You’re not mad
at me?” he asked, floating to the spot beside her.

  “I’m mad,” she confirmed, “but not at you. I’m sorry I misdirected my feelings.”

  “Don’t be,” he insisted, sweeping her hair aside.

  He kissed the nape of her neck then trailed his lips to her ear. “I hate that you’re going through this, Layla. You’ve been here less than three days and you’re already dealing with the darkest side of magic. But we’ll figure this out. Then I’ll show you the brightest side. I promise.”

  “You can’t make that promise,” she countered, keeping her face hidden. “I’ve seen what the Unforgivables can do. I watched one of their spells torture my mom until her heart literally burst. I saw a storm of elemental magic rip Medea’s limbs from her body then twist her corpse like putty. And I was there when my dad died in a flash of agony provoked by a mere wave of Agro’s hand. I’ve witnessed the cold cruelty beneath the crimson cloaks, and I’ve seen the fire in Agro’s eyes when he’s about to destroy a life. The darkest side of magic shaped my life, Quin, and this situation I’m in is proof it can’t be stopped. So you can’t make that promise, and I wish you wouldn’t put that kind of pressure on yourself, because really, it would be in your best interest to stay away from me.”

  Quin struggled to breathe, his chest heavy with the burden her confession placed on his heart. He had no idea the imprint exposed the tragedies of her past in such vivid detail. “That must have been horrible to watch.”

  “That’s not the point. What matters is the carnage. I know what the Unforgivables are capable of, and I don’t stand a chance against them. Either I die, or I hide and let everyone else die for me. But that’s the story of my life, isn’t it?”

  Quin swallowed, hating the route her mind traveled. “Will you look at me?” he whispered, drifting his fingers down a turbulent sea of curls. “I miss your eyes.”

  Her aura expanded as her shoulders shook, and a choppy gasp wheezed through cotton as she kicked the bed.

  “Okay,” he soothed, nuzzling her neck. “You don’t have to look.”

  “Damn it, Quin. Stop being so nice to me.”

  “I won’t do that,” he refused.

  “I know,” she sighed. Then she rubbed her face in the pillow and looked at him.