Impassion (Mystic)

by B. C. Burgess

  The woman sat on the ground, along with Banning, Brietta and Skyla; and the kids were on the move, playing between the grownups and a furry pile of animals, which included two golden retriever puppies and a fluffy white lamb.

  As Layla and Quin drew nearer, a little girl with strawberry-blond curls ran toward them on teeny yet speedy legs, her steps light and hyper like a pixie. Extremely bright and mostly white, her aura had a few indistinct ribbons of color swimming through a wispy river of love.

  “Qwinwin!” she squealed, jumping from several feet away.

  Layla’s heart lurched as Quin reached up, grabbing the child by her waist and pulling her to his chest. “That was a good leap,” he praised, calm as ever. “You almost pulled me up there with you.”

  Her round cheeks pinched with a grin as her royal purple eyes sparkled. “I’ve been pwacticing.”

  “I can tell,” Quin replied. “Pretty soon you’ll out-fly Bann.”

  “That’s what Bwietta said.”

  Quin laughed then looked at Layla. “This little angel is my cousin—Alana Driscol. She recently turned two. Didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Alana confirmed, holding up two tiny fingers. “I tunned two.”

  Layla already loved the precious, little girl. It had to be true. That was the only explanation for the rapid swelling of her heart; for the quick shift in emotion that rattled her chest. “Two is a special age,” she noted.

  “How ode awe you?” the toddler asked, reaching for Layla’s cheek.

  “Twenty-one,” Layla answered.

  “Twenty-one is a pwetty age,” Alana offered. “I wike you’we eyes.”

  “Thank you. You have pretty eyes, too.”

  “They’we puple.”

  “Yes. A very pretty shade of purple.”

  “So you’we Waywa, huh?”

  “Yes I am.”

  Alana looked at Quin with raised eyebrows and a proud pucker. “We wuv Waywa.”

  “Yes we do,” he confirmed.

  “Wiw you stay?” Alana asked.

  “I would love to stay,” Layla answered. Then she spared Quin a glance before returning her gaze to Alana. “I’ve never seen such a beautiful baby. She’s adorable.”

  “And she knows it,” he replied. “She’s the youngest in the coven, and she and her brother are the only children, so they’re rotten.” He nudged the angelic child with his nose. “Aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Alana confessed. “Spoiwed wottin.”

  “No,” Layla breathed. “You’re wonderful.”

  In awe of the child, she couldn’t look away, but Alana was more fascinated with Quin’s attention. Taking his cheeks in her little palms, she forced him to meet her stare.

  “Can we go fowr a wide in a wittwe whiwe?”

  “Sure,” he agreed.

  Alana flashed a smug smile at Layla. “Qwinwin’s my favewit to wide with.”

  Layla wanted to hold her, but settled for staring at her. “And why is Quinlan your favorite?”

  “Because he’s the fastist.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “The funnist!”

  Layla laughed as she raised a hand to her expanding heart. “I’d love to see you fly sometime.”

  “You can watch when Qwinwin takes me,” Alana offered. Then she kissed one of his dimples. “Otay, put me down.”

  Quin kissed her forehead then lowered her feet to the ground, and she skipped after one of Skyla’s birds.

  “I’ve never seen anything like her,” Layla whispered, raptly watching her go. “Are all magical babies that smart?”

  “Yes,” he answered, “if they’re reaching their potential. We’re blessed with extraordinary concentration and memory.”

  “Oh yeah. Well are they all that beautiful?”

  Quin laughed as he urged her forward, and she forced her attention to the other child, who was older and rowdier than Alana. He was somersaulting in mid-air—dodging Banning’s grasping hands while trying to catch the bubbles shooting from Brietta’s fingertips—but when he noticed Quin’s approach, he froze mid-flip, upside down. Both of them cocked an eyebrow as their eyes briefly met. Then the boy shot toward Quin like missile.

  Quin released Layla’s hand, but not to gently pluck the boy from the air. Instead, he braced himself, grunting as the child slammed into his chest. Without so much as a step backward, Quin laughed and flung the boy over his shoulder. “You almost got me,” he lied, tickling his calves. Then he spun him around and placed his feet on the ground. “This is Brayden—Alana’s older brother. He’s five and full of fire, so watch him.” He ruffled Brayden’s fine, red hair. “This is Layla.”

  Acting very mature for a five-year-old, Brayden looked up with bright eyes that were several shades of brown and purple, and cordially stretched out a hand. “Hi, Layla. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Layla returned his smile and shook his little hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Brayden.”

  As soon as she let go, his maturity melted away, and he maneuvered his head from Quin’s grasp and soared onto his back. Wrapping both arms around his target’s neck, he pulled and squeezed with purpose, but Quin wasn’t fazed.

  “You’re getting strong,” he humored him, “but you have a long way to go before you’ll take me down.”

  After one more fruitless tug, Brayden flipped to the ground. “I got Bann yesterday.”

  Quin laughed as he glanced at Banning, who shrugged as he gave an excuse. “The little squirt caught me off guard.”

  “Did not,” Brayden argued. “I’m just getting stronger than you.”

  “Is that so?” Banning asked, jumping to his feet and moving away from the witches. “Give it a go then, muscle man.”

  He didn’t have to wait long before Brayden shot toward him. Then he pretended to struggle as they wrestled on the ground and in the air.

  Layla keenly watched, amused and slightly shocked. Then Quin diverted her attention by nudging her toward a woman with pale yellow eyes and honey hair.

  “This is Selena Driscol,” he revealed, “Alana and Brayden’s mom.”

  “You have lovely children,” Layla offered, reaching for Selena’s outstretched hand.

  “They’re rotten,” Selena countered, “but thank you.”

  “Waywa wants to see me fwy,” Alana announced, playing with her mom’s hair.

  “She’ll get to see you do more than that,” Selena returned. “She’ll be here for a long time.”

  Quin squeezed Layla’s shoulder and motioned to the ground. “Do you want to sit?”

  “Sure,” she agreed, seating herself next to Alana, who abandoned her mom’s hair to play with Layla’s.

  “I wike youw haiwr,” she said. “It’s curwy wike mine.”

  “Your curls are beautiful,” Layla replied, watching the ringlets reflect the sun. She wanted to take Alana in her arms and cover her in sweet kisses, but she somehow refrained from smothering a child she barely knew.

  “I wish it was wong wike youwrs,” Alana added.

  “It will be someday,” Layla assured.

  “That’s what mommy says,” Alana pouted. “I asked if I could use magic on it, but she said I’d apweciate it more if I gwow it.”

  “That makes sense,” Layla approved. “If you want long hair, someday you’ll have it, and it will be natural and beautiful, something you can take pride in.”

  “Natuwal and beautiful,” Alana repeated. Then she turned her attention to the curl she held, watching it as though it were deeply interesting.

  “What do you think about your magic, Layla?” Brietta asked.

  “I think it’s wonderful,” Layla answered, still staring at the toddler, “but there’s a lot I don’t know.”

&n
bsp; “Sure,” Brietta conceded, “but we can help with that. I’d love to watch you learn. Your situation fascinates me—to grow up hexless when you’re one of the most powerful magicians in the world, maybe even the most powerful.” She paused and shook her head. “It’s going to be crazy. You’ll be learning some wild stuff really quickly. Who knows what that’s like?”

  Layla cheeks burned as insecurities crept in, threatening to suffocate the comfort she’d found in the children. Quin took her hand, giving it a squeeze, and she smiled at him before finding Brietta. “I don’t know what it’s going to be like either, Bri. I’m sure I’ll be as amazed as anyone.”

  Brietta’s grin widened. “Do you want to show us what you’ve learned so far?”

  “Give it a break,” Quin scolded.

  Brietta frowned at him then guiltily bowed her head. “Sorry, Layla.”

  “Don’t be,” Layla insisted, glancing at Quin. “She has a right to ask.”

  “You don’t have to prove anything to us,” he insisted. “Just tell Bri no if you don’t feel like performing her tricks. She’s well-intentioned, but she’s pushy and tends to suck on her foot.”

  Brietta summoned a pine cone and chucked it at him, but it burst into flames halfway there, turning to ash then catching the breeze.

  “Nice try,” he laughed.

  Brietta huffed and stuck her tongue out at him. Then she smiled at Layla. “He’s right. You don’t have to prove anything to us. And if I get too pushy, which I sometimes do, just tell me to shove off. But if you don’t want to show us, would you like to tell us?”

  “Sure,” Layla agreed. “I’ve done several little things, like heating up coffee and cleaning the dishes, and I got to play with fire the day I found out about everything. Then today I learned to fly, conceal myself, and lighten my aura...”

  “Nuh-uh,” Brietta interrupted. “You can already lighten your aura?”

  “A little, according to Daleen and Morrigan.”

  “That’s amazing,” Selena commended.

  “Yeah it is,” Brietta added. “I can’t lighten mine. It barely makes a difference when I try. Will you show us?”

  “Um... sure,” Layla agreed, “but I don’t know how well I’ll do under pressure.”

  “Don’t feel pressured,” Quin insisted. “If it doesn’t work, you’ll be no worse off than Bri.” He smiled and winked at Brietta, who stuck her tongue out again.

  Layla laughed at their banter then closed her eyes, trying to vacuum her emotions. A full, unpredictable feeling squeezed her insides, and she figured it must be working, but then a chorus of gasps snapped her concentration.

  She looked around, finding Brietta, Skyla and Selena staring at her with wide eyes and open mouths. “I guess it worked?” she asked, looking at Quin.

  “Yes,” he answered, “and it’s improved since you showed me earlier.”

  “Really? That’s fantastic.”

  He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Yes it is.”

  “That was very impressive,” Selena noted.

  “Yeah it was,” Skyla agreed.

  “There have been times that trick would have saved my butt,” Brietta added. “May we see your concealment spell?”

  “Sure,” Layla answered. Then she closed her eyes, attempting to blend in like an extraordinary chameleon.

  “Come back,” Alana pleaded, and Layla immediately ceased her efforts to disappear.

  “Thank you,” Alana sighed. “I want to pway with youw haiwr some more.”

  Layla grinned at the toddler, forgetting all about the magic she’d performed. “You can play with my hair all you want, sweetie.”

  Alana’s face and aura brightened. Then she sat in Layla’s lap and wrapped a long spiral around her fingers.

  Layla tentatively lifted a hand then gently ran her fingers through the toddler’s silky locks. “Is it okay if I play with your hair?”

  “Yes,” Alana agreed. “It feews good.”

  Enraptured by the child, Layla felt utterly peaceful sitting that way, like she’d found a piece of her herself she didn’t know was missing, like something foreign yet necessary had adhered to her heart.

  “Looks like Alana has more than your hair wrapped around her fingers,” Selena teased.

  “Is that okay?” Layla asked, quickly looking up.

  “Of course,” Selena laughed. “She has everyone wrapped around her fingers.”

  “I can see why. She’s adorable.”

  “Yes, but let her get away with too much, and she’ll use you to her advantage. She’s a clever, little witch.”

  Alana looked up with sparkling eyes and an ornery grin. “I’m a cwever, wittwe witch.”

  Layla laughed, once again yearning to smother the baby in kisses. “Well if you ever feel like wrapping me around your fingers, just let me know.”

  “Otay,” Alana beamed, grabbing another spiral.

  “Looks like you’ve met our littlest angel,” a voice rang out.

  Layla looked up, finding Morrigan floating toward them.

  “I have,” Layla answered, “and she’s too cute for words.”

  Morrigan knelt and tapped the toddler’s nose. “What do you think, Alana? Do you like our newest member?”

  “I wuv Waywa,” Alana corrected. “She said I could wap hewr awound my fingews.”

  “Of course she did,” Morrigan laughed, straightening as she held out her hands. “Ready for dinner?”

  “Yes,” Alana answered, soaring into her arms, and Layla’s heart sighed as she watched them turn toward the table.

  The others got to their feet to follow, but Quin stayed seated, taking his turn with Layla’s hair. “I guess you like children?”

  “I’ve never been around one long enough to know,” she answered, tearing her gaze from Alana, “but if they’re anything like her, yes I do.”

  He smiled, and Layla couldn’t help but watch his lips, awash with a powerful urge to be in his arms. She glanced at the family then scooted closer, and he wasted no time wrapping her in a hug.

  “I like that,” he said.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You leaning on me,” he answered. “I know it’s hard for you.”

  “It’s getting easier.”

  “I can tell.”

  “I’m sure you can. You pay very close attention to me.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “No, but I worry I’m keeping you from things you’d normally do. I don’t want you putting your life on hold for me.”

  Too late, Quin thought, burying his face in her hair. She’d already taken center stage in his life, blurring everything around her, constantly distracting him from the rest of the world. She’d grabbed him the moment he laid eyes on her; now nothing else compared. When he wasn’t with her, he was thinking about her, his stomach and chest restless until he returned to her. He couldn’t imagine going on with life the way he used to. It would be an extremely unpleasant experience to try.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he insisted, tightening his hug. “I’m not missing anything.”

  After a long, indulgent moment, he pulled his face from her curls and scanned her aura. “Do you feel more comfortable now that you’ve met everyone?”

  “Yes, but the embarrassment will return. It’s inevitable.”

  “It’s okay if it does. It won’t change anything besides the color of your cheeks.”

  “And their temperature,” she added, smiling up at him.

  He glanced at the table, then back. “May I kiss you? No one’s looking.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, and he leaned in, barely touching his lips to hers.

  “I’ll give you a better one later,” he promised.

  “I’ll
hold you to it,” she countered.

  He stole another quick kiss then slid his arm under her knees. “Ready for me to carry you to dinner?”

  “No,” she blurted, clutching his shirt. Then she got the joke and relaxed. “You’re a funny, funny guy, Quin.”

  “I like teasing you,” he confessed.

  “I know,” she whispered, laying her cheek to his heart. “I like it, too.”

  Chapter 14

  The setting sun’s rays dipped into basalt fissures as Agro flew over the Craters of the Moon National Monument—miles of cracked lava fields and sparse sagebrush that reached for the fading light with pale, prickly fingers.

  In the distance, Agro could see the Pioneer Mountains, which was all that stood between him and Ketchum, Idaho.

  He’d sent Farriss ahead of his slow moving unit with orders to sneak into the census office of Blaine County for a list of residents with the surname Callaway. If Farriss managed to keep a low profile and find something useful, Agro’s web would soon grow. The witch’s adopted mother held a loan in Ketchum long ago. Perhaps she haled from the area and left behind a family, perhaps Layla had visited them on her way to the coast. If the theories held water, Agro would sniff her out.

  After navigating over snowy peaks, Agro ordered his army to descend into a dense cluster of grand firs burgeoning from the western side of the mountains.

  “Scout the area,” he instructed, “and set up camp.”

  A soldier in his teens rushed to unpack the boss’ tent, but Agro waved him away. “Don’t bother. I won’t be sticking around.”

  No, he’d spend his night visiting every Callaway in the County, looking for his witch. As anxious as he was to get to Oregon and interrogate her birth family, Ketchum was on the way, and he’d leave no stone unturned.

  After thirty minutes of impatient pacing, he received a mental message from a soldier standing guard to the west. ‘Farriss is entering camp, sir.’

  Agro halted and looked up, counting the seconds until the brute’s aura came into view. The haze swam slowly, its flow sporadic, its moody colors bleeding into dark sky.