Impassion

by B. C. Burgess

  Her jaw remained broken in several spots, and the bones he’d already healed still ached, but she was desperate to talk, so she gave it a shot. “Quin.”

  It was pitiful and slurred, but he heard her and moved his lips to hers. “Shh... Don’t talk. Just let us heal you. Please.”

  Her pout quivered as she took his cheeks and held him in place. “I thought I’d… never see you again.”

  “I’m here,” he assured. “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

  He tried to return to her jaw, but she tightened her hold as tears of physical agony and emotional ecstasy streamed down her temples. She meant to open both eyes, but only one obeyed, so she found his gaze with it. “I love you, Quin.”

  His face flexed as his shiny eyes reflected her battered image. Then his throat swelled as he wiped away her tears. “I know, angel. I love you, too, with every beat of my aching heart. But you have to let us heal you. We’ll talk all night once you’re better, but for now, please relax.”

  She tried to nod, but it hurt too much. Her entire face felt like it had exploded, and she couldn’t do a damn thing with it in pieces. She was ready for it to be better so she could look at him, really look at him, smile at him, and talk to him.

  She pulled his lips to hers, compelling him to kiss her. Then she moved his mouth to the part of her jaw that hurt the most. He began healing, and she closed her eye, trying to relax for him.

  She did fairly well, but then a nearby sob caught her attention and roused her senses. Hints of vanilla, magnolia and jasmine mingled with Quin’s scent, and Layla knew Brietta was crying beside her.

  She reached out, and Brietta took her hand, cradling it as she gently fiddled with her fingers. “I’m so sorry, Layla.”

  Layla squeezed her hand, bracing for an extra shot of pain as she mind searched her. ‘It’s okay, Bri. I’m okay. This wasn’t your fault.’

  Brietta sobbed again, so Layla pulled her down and blindly dried her tears.

  “They’re fixing you up,” Brietta whispered, kissing her palm. “You’ll feel better soon.”

  Layla ran her fingers through Brietta’s silky hair. Then she moved them to Quin’s face, urging him to a more painful area. She hated not being able to talk to the people she loved.

  Negative energy hovered in the room, and Layla wished she could clear it away, replace it with the appreciation and love clutching her. Sure, she was in agony and frustrated with her condition, but her heart was perfectly healthy. In fact, it beat harder and stronger than ever, and she didn’t even mind that it pounded against cracked ribs.

  After several minutes of tense silence, she thought her jaw might be healed enough for her to open her mouth without burning torture, so she attempted to speak. “What’s wrong with my eye?” Her voice was rough and slightly slurred, but understandable, and several relieved sighs drifted through the room.

  “It’s swollen shut,” Quin answered, lightly touching the wound. “Your brow bone’s cracked.”

  “Will you heal it next? It’s driving me crazy to only open one eye.”

  “Of course. I’ll do whatever I need to do to fix this, just point me in the right direction.”

  “Mkay. I think some of my ribs are broken.”

  Quin grumbled his disapproval. Then cool air rushed over Layla’s stomach as he ripped her dress open. He slipped one hand under the velvet, drifting it along her ribs. Then he stopped on one of the more painful areas while touching his lips to her brow. When she flinched, so did he.

  Serafin still touched her knee, and it felt much better. Amazing really—what magicians could do for injuries. Had she been taken to a hospital, she probably would have ended up on an operating table.

  Morrigan and Daleen continued to mourn, so Layla held out a hand and called for them. They rushed to obey, and Daleen took her hand while Morrigan stroked her forearm.

  “We’re right here, sweetie,” Morrigan whispered.

  Daleen kissed Layla’s palm then laid her cheek in it. “We’re sorry we let this happen, Layla, but we’re going to make it right.”

  Layla swallowed, trying to strengthen her voice for them. “I’m okay. I want you guys to know I’m okay.”

  “You will be,” Daleen encouraged. “You have the best working on you.”

  “I know,” Layla sighed.

  “There’s a long way to go,” Serafin confessed. “If I need to do something different, just let me know.”

  “You’re doing perfect, Serafin. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank us,” Caitrin insisted. “Just get better.”

  “I am. I’m already much better. Are Bri and Sky still in here?”

  “We’re here,” they answered.

  “I don’t want you guys blaming yourselves,” Layla pressed. “This isn’t your fault.”

  “Don’t fret over that,” Brietta countered. “We’re fine. You need to worry about getting bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

  “I’ll get right on it,” Layla agreed. “Did you get my messages?”

  “Loud and clear. You did well. We just wish there was something we could have done besides fly for help.”

  “I’m glad you flew for help. I didn’t want you anywhere near that guy.”

  “We know,” Skyla replied. “You yelled at us like a drill sergeant.”

  “Good. That was the point.”

  Quin moved his hand to a different rib. Then he slid his lips to her swollen eyelid, which didn’t take long to fix. “Can you open your eyes?” he asked.

  She raised her lids and blinked away blurriness, sighing as she searched his beautiful face. “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Are there any more broken bones?”

  “Something’s wrong with my cheek.”

  He grimaced as his aura flared, but he stayed outwardly calm as he lowered his lips to her cheek.

  Layla looked around and found at least a dozen people worriedly watching her, which would usually make her blush like crazy, but in facing her mortality, she’d gained insight into how much she valued her family. She was in the mood to appreciate what was fantastic about her life, and these people definitely fit the bill.

  Well, most of them. Finley stood away from the others, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at her.

  She boldly met his gaze, trying to figure out what made the man behind it tick. She appreciated his help and probably owed him her life, but she didn’t like the friction between him and Quin. Finley seemed to think he had a shot at taking over Quin’s prime position in her life, but he was on a futile mission and would be wise to find another.

  She looked away from him and found Caitrin, his eyes glistening like the sea as he stared at her. “Do you have any idea who did this to you?”

  “I think it was the same guy,” she answered. “The one who questioned my lawyer—red hair and yellow eyes.”

  Quin’s magic paused, and several coven members traded worried glances.

  “Who is he?” Layla asked. “I know he’s an Unforgivable, but why would he be working alone?”

  “His name is Farriss,” Caitrin explained. “He’s Agro’s brute enforcer, which makes him an extremely dangerous man. We’re lucky you’re alive.” He swallowed and looked at Finley. “We owe you many thanks for saving Layla from that maniac.”

  “It’s about time,” Finley icily returned.

  Layla narrowed her eyes on him. “I appreciate what you did for me, Finley, but if you can’t show my family some respect and understanding, I’ll have to insist you leave. We know nothing about you, so I’m sure you can understand what must have gone through their heads when they saw you carrying me in like this.”

  “You’re right,” Finley conceded, but his stance and voice stayed firm. “Just don’t expect me to appreciate being pinned the bad guy when I saved the day.”

  Quin raised his head. “You’re awfully hell-bent on being labeled the hero, Finley.”

  “Perhaps you’re just jealous you weren’t the hero today, Quin.”


  Quin took a calming breath before going back to work on Layla’s cheek, and she ran her fingers into his hair while watching Finley’s smug expression.

  Kemble walked into the room, stabbing a hole in the tension, and everyone save for Quin looked up.

  “How are you doing?” Kemble asked, meeting Layla’s stare.

  “Better now,” she answered.

  “Good,” he approved. “You had us pretty worried.”

  “I know. I’m sorry I scared everyone.”

  “Don’t,” Quin objected, finding her eyes. “Don’t apologize for this. It shouldn’t have happened. We should be on our hands and knees begging for your forgiveness. We tell you we’ll take care of you then let this happen…” His eyes narrowed as his jaw tensed, and Layla knew he was struggling with a temper she’d never seen before. “I won’t let it happen again,” he vowed. Then he returned his lips to her cheek.

  “Did you find him?” Caitrin asked, turning to Kemble.

  Kemble tore his gaze from Quin’s aura and found Caitrin’s stare. “Yeah. It’s Agro’s main man—the redhead. His body’s behind the storage shed.”

  “Get rid of it,” Caitrin instructed. “Now that we know who it was, there’s no reason to keep it around.” He paused and kissed Morrigan’s hand. “Any sign of Hypnos?”

  Kemble bowed his head as he answered. “Devlin still has his dogs out, and Grandpa Cat put Zenith on the search, but the trail goes cold a few yards from where we found the body.”

  Layla swallowed a lump as she looked between Morrigan and Caitrin. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Nonsense,” Morrigan replied, quickly composing herself. “You’re alive, and that’s absolutely the only thing that matters.”

  “Still...” Layla whispered. “I... I’m just so sorry.”

  “We are, too,” Caitrin agreed. “We love Hypnos, and we’ll mourn the loss if we don’t find him, but his life can’t hold a flame to yours. Now please stop worrying about us. You have enough on your plate.” He turned to Kemble. “Get rid of the body, post extra guards on the property line, and tell Devlin to give his dogs a rest. If they haven’t found Hypnos yet, they’re not going to. He’ll find his way home if he’s alive.”

  “Will do,” Kemble agreed, turning toward the bed. He filled his lungs like he was going to say something to Quin. Then he sighed and smiled at Layla. “Relax and get better, honey. I’m glad you’re safe.”

  “Thanks, Kemble.”

  Aside from her grief over Hypnos, Layla felt a million times better. Yes, her muscles continued to ache, and the mended bones still stung, but the pain was tolerable.

  Quin leaned back and pulled his hand from her dress. “Are there anymore bones out of place?”

  “That’s all the broken ones,” she answered. “I think. It’s hard to tell. I’m really sore.”

  “I’ll fix that, too, but it will take some time for you to feel like yourself again.”

  She took his cheeks and pulled him to her lips. “You were wonderful, Quin. Thank you.”

  “I should have been there, Layla. This never should have happened. I shouldn’t have let it.”

  She started to shake her head, but her body was not ready for that. “You’re not responsible for this,” she insisted, trying not to cringe.

  “I should have been there,” he repeated, “and I will be from now on.”

  She sighed, knowing he’d never agree with her. Then she ran her fingers along his tense jaw as she donned what she hoped was a cute expression. “May I have one more teeny tiny favor?”

  The corner of his lips twitched as he tilted his head. “Really? Coffee?”

  “Yes. I’d also accept a glass of water, and I’ll need help sitting up, so I guess that’s three teeny tiny favors.” She would have stuck out a pout, but figured her swollen lips were puffy enough. “Is three too many?”

  “No,” he answered, brushing his lips across hers. “I would do a million teeny tiny favors for you, and the really big ones are yours, too.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Unnecessary.” He floated from the bed and stood beside it. “I’m going to use magic to sit you up.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, relaxing as she closed her eyes.

  The pressure of his spell remained incredibly even and supportive as it eased her from the bed, but it still hurt like hell.

  Once her back was against a stack of pillows, he leaned close. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she answered, searching his eyes. They looked different than usual. Teeny specks of silver flashed in their dark depths.

  He kissed her forehead then straightened. “I’ll be right back.”

  Layla started to ask why he couldn’t summon the beverages. Then she glanced at his turbulent aura and knew. He needed a break, a chance to vent. “Okay,” she agreed. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be here.”

  He tried to smile, but it didn’t work out, so he turned and flew from the room. Cordelia watched him go, her face tear-streaked as she wrung her empty hands. Then she caved and flew after him.

  “How does your knee feel?” Serafin asked.

  Layla looked away from the empty hallway and found her grandfather’s stare. “Loads better. Thank you.”

  He covered her legs then moved further up the bed, gingerly taking her jaw in both palms. “Is there anywhere else that needs immediate attention?”

  “I think that’s all the broken bones, but I feel bruised all over.”

  After examining her cheek and brow, Serafin kissed her forehead and straightened. “The muscle strain will take some more work, and the mended bones will remain fragile for a couple of days, so you need to take it easy.”

  “Okay.”

  He moved away, taking Daleen under his arm, and it gave Layla a good view of the bright and airy room.

  “Where am I?” she asked.

  “Selena and Drystan’s bedroom,” Morrigan answered.

  “Oh,” Layla mumbled, searching the occupants of the room. Neither Drystan nor Selena were there. “I need to move. I don’t want Alana and Brayden seeing me like this.”

  “They’re in Cannon Beach,” Morrigan replied. “We’ll take you home before they get back.”

  “Oh. Okay. Good.”

  Quin flew into the room, calmer than when he left, and Cordelia followed, her condition unchanged.

  Quin helped Layla take a drink of water. Then he gave her control of the coffee while using magic to prevent spills.

  She sipped then happily sighed. “My hero.”

  Finley scoffed, and Quin’s expression hardened as he looked over. “Why are you still here? Are you waiting for a reward? Because I would gladly pay every penny I possess to get you out of my way.”

  “Keep your pennies,” Finley shot back. “I’d gouge my own eyes out before accepting money from you. I’m here to make sure Layla’s okay.”

  “As you can see, Layla’s recovering and in good hands.”

  “If she’s in such good hands, why does she look like a punching bag?”

  Quin’s aura pulsed and darkened with remorse, and with that, Layla was done with Finley.

  “That’s enough,” she calmly interjected, afraid to get worked up. It hurt like hell just to talk above a whisper. “I appreciate your help, Finley, but Quin’s a member of this family, and we won’t let you treat him that way. Obviously you don’t like him, which is fine, whatever, but he’s staying, and since you can’t show him some respect, you need to leave and not come back.”

  Quin slipped his fingers into her hair, sliding a thumb across her uninjured cheek. “It’s okay, Layla. If Finley has a problem with me, I prefer he get it off his chest now rather than later.”

  Ignoring Quin, Finley kept his narrow gaze on Layla. “Kicking me out is how you show your gratitude? If it weren’t for me, you’d be dead.”

  Quin’s aura swelled, swimming with crimson as he pulled his fingers from Layla’s hair. “Saving her life doesn’t give you the right to disrespect it, and
she doesn’t owe you a damn thing, so this is the point where you wish her well and leave. If you don’t remove yourself, I’ll do it for you.”

  Finley’s posture remained carefree as he cracked an incredulous smile. “You’re overly confident, Quin.”

  Everyone shifted as Quin made to follow through with his threat, but Layla grabbed his hand, spilling coffee across her arm as pain pierced her wounds. “Ow,” she grumbled.

  Quin carefully pried her fingers from the mug. Then he set it aside before cleaning the mess. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. but I don’t want you moving from this spot no matter what he says.” She looked at Finley, pissed she had to be discourteous toward someone who’d saved her life. “You’re on thin ice, you know. Everyone here is prepared to defend Quin with their lives, so say what you need to say then leave. If you feel I haven’t thanked you enough, leave your address and I’ll send a card.”

  Finley’s expression was hard to read, but he clearly wasn’t happy. “I don’t need a card.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “I want to help you.”

  “You already have, and I’m beyond thankful, but there’s nothing more I can say, and I’m fine now, so you can leave.”

  “Once you hear what I have to say, you may not want me to leave.”

  “I doubt it,” she returned, searching Quin’s profile.

  Finley sighed and dropped his attitude. About damn time.

  “You have deadly enemies after you,” he pointed out, “and I can help. I can protect you better than anyone here.”

  Everyone stirred as they curiously looked him over, and Layla cocked her unscathed eyebrow. “You say Quin’s overly confident, yet you think you can match the protection of twenty-seven people. Your head must have gotten jarred more than mine today.”

  “I’m sure that’s how you feel,” Finley replied, “because you don’t know any better, but I’m telling the truth. I’m more powerful than they are, and I can offer you protection they can’t.”

  “I’ve heard enough,” Layla mumbled. “You need to leave.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “No.”

  “I’m as powerful as you are,” he claimed.