Guthrie found the guard’s curious stare and set him to task. “Have someone prepare breakfast. Everyone will need sustenance for their journey.”
“What journey?” a gruff voice cut in.
Everyone looked over, watching the camp’s commander emerge from his tent with a witch in a skimpy, red slip. Paying little attention to the crowd, the woman took her leave, and the commander gave her ass a slap before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His blond hair and beard were in need of grooming, and his puffy eyelids bore witness to his disturbed slumber. But at thirty-two-years-old, he had youth on his side and stood tall and sturdy. He was also a bonded child and had a thick and solid power-band to prove it.
“Guthrie,” he laughed, tossing his hands up in welcome. “Damn, man, I haven’t seen you in six years.” He threw an arm around Guthrie’s shoulders and looked to the other newcomers, quickly spotting Lynette. A grin twitched his facial hair and exposed a perfect row of shiny teeth. “Lady Lyn, you’re aging like a fine wine.”
Lynette snorted and rolled her eyes. “You’re full of shit, Token. More like a used mattress.”
“Do I sense some tension?” Token asked, turning his olive-green gaze on Guthrie.
Guthrie left the question unanswered and addressed his unit. “If you want to eat, you better do it.”
The soldiers hastened away, and after a moment’s hesitation, Lynette followed.
“Got any food in here?” Guthrie asked, giving Silestra some air as he entered the commander’s tent.
Token followed him in and gestured toward a sofa. “Sure. Take a seat. How have you been, man?”
While Token put together a tray of cheese and crackers, Guthrie scanned the impressive expanse of the commander’s opulent quarters. “I’m Agro’s new lieutenant.”
“No shit?”
“No shit,” Guthrie mumbled.
Token set the tray on the coffee table and poured two glasses of wine. “Congratulations are in order then.”
That was a lie, and both men knew it, but they played the roles they’d played most their lives. “Thanks, Toke,” Guthrie replied. “Got any meat?”
“It’s on its way. So what happened to the last guy?”
“Missing.”
“Flee?”
“Probably not.”
“Dead then.”
“Most likely.”
A witch entered the tent with a tray of ham then promptly made her exit, and Guthrie took a few bites before looking at the commander. “Have you heard any news?”
Token crossed his arms over his broad chest, holding his bicep in one hand and his glass in the other. “I know the boss is after a witch. All the commanders received orders to search for her, and I was told to move north. We were about three hours down the coast. I’ve been sending out teams to gather local gossip, but we don’t know anything more than a name and that she’s a bonded child.”
“The bonded child,” Guthrie corrected.
Token’s forehead wrinkled as he took a swig. “You’ll have to explain.”
“How old were you when you were brought into camp?”
“Seven.”
“Then you may not remember.”
Token grabbed a piece of ham and sat on the sofa’s armrest. “Remember what?”
“Nineteen years ago, two bonded children bonded with each other.”
“What? That’s impossible.”
“Most magicians would agree, but I saw them. Their lights were bigger and brighter, and their power-bands put others to shame. When Agro found out about them, he set out to acquire their child.”
“Of course.”
“But he was fooled into thinking the woman died while their child was still in the womb and too young to survive. The father sacrificed his life to ensure Agro believed the lie.”
Token gave an impressed nod and took another swig. “Now the truth’s out?”
“Yes. The witch is alive, and we’ve been on her trail for nearly a month, but we haven’t been able to catch her. When we do manage it, we’re going to have a fight on our hands. Her parents are long gone, but her grandparents and their coven are prepared to die for her.” Guthrie paused, taking the time to chew and swallow a bite. Then he charged on. “And it seems Agro is prepared to do the same. He’ll stop at nothing to get this witch.”
“And that’s why you’re here,” Token surmised, slowly running his gaze over his luxurious abode. “Calling the troops home.”
“Yes, all those I can gather by Thursday night. I also need to make a trip to southern Nevada to buy a couple of soothsayers.”
Token rose from the sofa and moved to the entrance of his tent, moving one flap aside so he could see the soldiers eating breakfast. “And the children? Will they accompany us?”
“No. I need your weakest soldiers to take the children to a camp near Lake Tahoe. The witch’s family wants us to believe her trail leads to the area, and Agro wants them to think we’ve fallen for it. Once the children’s handlers get them settled, they’re to make public appearances and ask blatant questions regarding the witch, so word will get back to her family that we’ve moved on. Then, once they let their guard down, we’ll move in. Unless the new soothsayers prove useful, which is about as likely as the witch turning herself in. Of all the visions Agro’s yanked from soothsayers over the past nineteen years, none of them have pertained to the witch or her family.”
Still gazing outside, Token gave a nod. “Lynette seems on edge.”
“That bitch is crazy,” Guthrie replied.
Token loudly laughed as he turned into the tent and grabbed a piece of cheese. “I see your passion for each other still burns.”
“That’s one way to put it. So, how do your soldiers measure up? Anyone worthy enough to lead besides yourself?”
“Lead in what way?”
“Excluding those taking responsibility for the children, most of the soldiers need to head to Oregon, but I need a trustworthy unit to take your map and collect the rest of the troops in California. They have two nights. They need to report to Agro before the sun rises on the third.”
“I have a handful who can handle the task,” Token assured. “What would you have me do?”
“You’ll go with me. When we’re done in Nevada, I need to hit Wyoming and Montana.”
“Shit, man. Are we starting a war?”
“We’ve already cleaned out Washington, Oregon, and Idaho, but Agro’s been on edge and skimmed us down to around seventy soldiers. We’ll be lucky to double it within the time limit he’s given me.” Guthrie ushered Silestra up his sleeve as he stood. Then he downed his wine and headed for the exit. “And yes, Agro’s preparing for war. We’ll either capture the witch or die trying.”
“But it’s one witch.”
Guthrie halted and turned, finding his comrade’s stare. “A witch favored by the Heavens, Token. You’d be wise to remember that from now on. This is no ordinary hunt. The stakes are higher than ever, and the boss is following this one through no matter the cost.”
Token took a long look at his comfortable quarters – a luxury he may never experience again. Then he found Guthrie’s stare and gave a nod. “I’ll set the soldiers to task.”
Chapter Six
The first time Quin awoke to a gold and silver haze floating around him and Layla, conflicting emotions crashed over him, squeezing his heart as the organ soared. He'd received the most amazing gift life could give – she was tucked into his chest, her warm breath a tingling channel for the peace and desire she instilled in him – and he was beyond grateful for the gift, but wicked talons lurked in the shadows, threatening to swoop in and grab his angel away.
Everything had changed. The situation was completely different now, but the danger remained and had strengthened. He and Layla would never be able to live a risk free life. Overnight they'd become the most dynamic witch and wizard the world had ever known, and there was no doubt in Quin's mind they were the only two of their kind, making them a delicacy covet
ed by every evil magician in the world. And not only would wicked magic users want control over them; common magicians would view them as an intriguing freak show set up for the entertainment of others. The two of them might as well have targets painted on their backs.
Quin had already considered a life in hiding, and it wasn't an appealing idea. He loved his family and cherished his home. When his friends had been mentally preparing to someday leave their communities, he'd refused to consider it, telling himself it would take an angel to separate him from his coven. Well, he had his angel now, and he’d follow her anywhere, but she didn't want to leave either. And who the hell could blame her? She'd grown up with only one person to love and to be loved by. Now she had a whole slew of them, twenty-six people who’d give their lives for her; twenty-six people she’d die for. She'd just gotten her hands on it; of course she didn't want to let it go.
He looked down at her long, onyx spirals. Then he watched her peaceful aura flutter around them, holding more ribbons of color than any other aura he'd seen. Twenty-six of the distinguishable cords – those representing their coven – quivered and flowed a little faster than the rest, drawing attention away from the thinner and wispier strands. Then there was the thick band of sparkling dark-brown, which flowed like an espresso river sprinkled with pulsing stars, so bold and so substantial it looked tangible.
No, he didn't want to leave, but if that's what it would take to keep her from harm, that's what they’d do. The sacrifices would be difficult to make; they’d miss much of what life had to offer, but the emptiness would never compare to what they’d feel if they lost each other. Through all the worry and fear, every second they spent in each other's arms was a blessed second, and Quin would turn away from the rest of the world in a heartbeat to hold Layla’s breathing body against him.
Her aura continued to flow peacefully, but Quin knew that would change the moment she awoke and started worrying about the difficult decisions facing them. He despised the notion. He wanted her to wake up and feel the pure wonder of it, not the worry of it.
Taking a chance, he moved his arms from around her and replaced them with magic. Then he carefully floated her further up his body. She stirred, but he had no problem adjusting his spell to her movements. After catching a glimpse of her serene expression, he slowly rolled her over. Then he gently lowered her back to the bed. Her aura picked up speed when she made contact with the blankets, so he quickly formed his body to the back of hers and touched his lips to her ear.
“Layla, my perfect angel, are you ready to wake up?”
She smiled and stretched against him, then rolled back into a ball, but she didn't open her eyes or seem fully awake when she mumbled his name.
He gave her earlobe a nibble then moved his mouth to the back of her neck, listening as her sigh whispered across his pillow. He reached up, finding her parted lips with his fingertips. Then he trailed his hand down her torso, emitting soft shocks that twitched her stomach and vibrated her aura. When he got to her thighs, he slipped his hand between them. Then a whoosh of magical warmth flowed from his palm, igniting sensitive nerve endings and jolting her awake for an intoxicating morning romp.
Once the rush ebbed and their muscles melted into sated mush, they both sighed as fulfillment replaced urgency.
He remained submersed in curls, and after a deep breath, he mumbled into them. “You're amazing.”
She wiggled, moving her neck closer to his lips. “You're the perfect alarm clock.”
He laughed, and shivers shot through their bodies.
“What could I do?” he breathed. “You looked stunning sleeping in my arms, so beautiful and bright. When my naked angel tempts me, I bite.”
“Tell you what, feel free to wake me up anytime, because apparently temptation is the root of all that's wonderful.”
He laughed again, and it included a combined twitch. “You're heavenly,” he whispered, blindly finding her cheek, “in so many ways.”
“I can't believe it's like this,” she replied, turning her lips into his palm. “Each time it gets better, which is crazy, because the first time was insane. I mean, how are we ever going to get anything done?”
He laughed yet again, a little harder this time, and tingles shot through their bloodstreams, turning his laugh into a groan that muffled into her neck.
“See?” She'd won her debate. “Productivity has become impossible.”
“I'm okay with that.”
“We're going to have to be. We're pathetic when it comes to controlling ourselves, and neither of us wants to change. We'll just have to surrender and live the rest of our lives like this.”
“I'm okay with that.”
She kissed and nuzzled his palm. “Me, too, but I think we should figure out a safe way to drink coffee. We don't want to burn ourselves.”
He hugged her tightly and took a deep breath. Then he left her hair and shifted away.
“No,” she protested, quickly rolling over. “Don't go. I don't want coffee. I want you.”
He smiled as he scooted closer. “You got me, love, forever. But we need coffee if we're going to keep up this regimen.” He brushed her hair from her face as he glanced at her aura. Then he found her shiny, emerald eyes. “It's also one in the afternoon, and I need to call your grandparents to check in.”
“Oh.”
As she processed the comment, her brow wrinkled over her cute nose, so he reached up and smoothed it. “What's on your mind, Layla?”
“Are you going to tell them we bonded?”
“Not over the phone.”
“Then how will we do it?”
“Well, I guess we should have them come see for themselves. They won't believe it otherwise, and I'd rather not leave the inn until we've talked to them.”
Layla’s mouth fell open as her eyes widened. “You're going to invite them over like it's no big deal then let them walk in on this shocker?”
“I'll ask them and my parents to visit; tell them we need to talk. And yes, they'll have to just walk in and see it.”
“Oh,” she murmured, biting her lip. “You're calling them now?”
“Do you want me to wait?”
“I don't know. It's kind of scary.”
“What's got you scared, angel?”
“Well, it's like I'm a sixteen-year-old about to tell my parents my boyfriend knocked me up or something.”
He laughed and caressed her pout. “It's nothing like that.”
“Kind of. I mean, we're basically saying hey, we had sex, and now we're committed for life. We understand it's going to be hard. Will you help us? If that isn't eerily similar, I don't know what is. Besides, I'm scared they’ll get really upset. The last time they walked into a situation like this, it was the first step in a disastrous journey that ended with the deaths of their children. How will they see anything other than bad memories when they look at us?”
“Okay,” Quin soothed, “I see your point, but you’re forgetting how much resilience your grandparents have, how much appreciation they have for life, and how much love they hold for you. Yes, they'll be scared and worried, but above all, they'll be happy for us.”
“Maybe.”
“No, Layla Love, not maybe. They know what it's like.”
Layla stared into his eyes – into his soul and all the sincerity it held – and his reassuring words soaked in, loosening her tight stomach while allowing for a smile. “It's perfect, you know.”
“Yes it is, and it's nothing like a teen pregnancy, no matter how you spin it.”
Her smile stretched. “But the analogy sounded good, right?”
His dimples appeared as he kissed her grin. “Yes it did. You are witty with your words, my love, and you make me smile.”
Her expression softened as she moved a forefinger to one of his dimples. “I love your smile, Quin. It makes my life better.”
“Your smile is like a shiny star, Layla, and I'm not the only person who treasures it. Your grandparents will need time t
o process the shock and worry, but in the end, they’ll want to celebrate your happiness. So, should I invite them over now, or wait? Either way I need to call to check in.”
“I guess now. They're going to know eventually…” She paused, eying him as her lips twitched into a sly grin. “Just like when a teenage girl gets pregnant.”
He laughed and lightly tickled her neck. “You're sticking to that analogy?”
“No,” she giggled. “I just wanted to see your dimples get deeper.”
His grin widened as he gave her a kiss then another. “I'll call them while I get your coffee.”
“Okay,” she agreed, pretending to examine her fingernails. “I'm going to go take a shower.”
“Oh yeah?” he laughed, sliding his fingertips down her back. Then he softly patted her butt. “Go for it. I’ll bring your coffee to you.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Is coffee an analogy in this case? Because that would be lovely.”
He laughed as he pulled her into hug and buried his face in her hair. “Take a long shower, my love, and I'll meet you there.”
“Mmm... That sounds much tastier than coffee.” She playfully bit his neck then pushed on his shoulders. “Hurry up and make your phone calls, then come get clean with me.”
Following one more kiss, he rolled out of bed and headed for the parlor, and Layla boldly watched him go, surprised by how unabashed she was to do so. Her embarrassment from the night before seemed unreasonable now… and downright foolish, because he was fine as hell.
With tremendous effort, she shifted her attention from his gorgeous body to his aura, and her eyes widened. The haze covered a bigger area than before, the colors were bolder, and his power-band was almost twice the size of her grandparents’ power-bands. “Your power-band is different,” she noted. “It’s much bigger.”
“I know,” he replied. “You should see yours.”
She foolishly looked down at herself, like she’d actually see it, and of course she couldn't. But she could see shiny, golden swirls and silver rivers, which seemed lost without Quin beside her. The silver strands usually looped around both their bodies, like they were trying to tie them together, but with him out of reach, the glittering bands repeatedly stretched out then curled back in, as if beckoning him. She’d never seen anything like it in another magician’s aura or bonded light, not even her parents’.
The Bond Page 5