More tears slipped from her lids, and he quickly kissed them away while working his fingers into her hair. With her cheeks momentarily dry, he moved his lips to hers, and she could feel herself getting sucked in, just as she could feel herself being pulled back. She was halfway between the dark state-of-mind their troubles generated, and the glorious peace-of-mind their relationship provided. If someone stood in her brain, they could look to the left and see a black abyss, then look to the right and see a bright and beautiful haze.
Layla turned toward the light, snapping the chains stretching from the dark while moving toward the silver wisps sweetly summoning her. No wasted moments. There was still so much she wanted to do with him, so much she wanted to show and tell him; sides of him she wanted to see and words she wanted to hear. There were parts of him she had yet to touch, and ways he had yet to touch her. But she couldn’t do any of that while dwelling on what-ifs, so she said to hell with the fear and pulled him closer, losing herself in his passionate embrace.
Chapter Eleven
The blaring lights of Las Vegas came into view long before Guthrie reached Vortigern’s institute, which was located on a more secluded plot of sand west of Vegas.
Given Vortigern’s association with Agro, it was safe to assume his institute was guarded, so Guthrie signaled for his unit to land more than half a mile outside Vortigern’s property. Guthrie could see the institute in the distance, lights flickering in the windows of a sprawling Santa Fe style ranch, and he spotted a few shadowed figures patrolling the land, their concealed auras shimmering under a full moon.
The closest of the figures approached, and Guthrie ordered everyone to stay put as he met the guard halfway. The exchange was short and civil. Then Guthrie patiently waited for Vortigern, who soon flew across the desert with a handful of teenage magicians in tow.
Vortigern eyed the twelve guests as he gracefully landed, his tall frame thinner than most wizards, but what he lacked in muscle, he made up for with his piercing stare – pale-blue and full of mystique. Guthrie had seen that look before, in a soothsayer who’d lasted about a year in Agro’s camp before losing a few fingers due to inaccuracy; it was the wise and wandering gaze of a man who’d been practicing mental magic far too long. The prolonged strain on the brain tended to drive the best of them mad.
“Vortigern,” Guthrie greeted.
“That’s who I am,” Vortigern returned. “Who are you?”
“Guthrie – first lieutenant of the Dark Elite.”
Vortigern subjected the claim to mental evaluation, the way all men of his sort did. Then he looked to Guthrie’s companions. “And what does Agro’s finest want with me?”
“Soothsayers. And we’d appreciate a break within the safety of your compound while we broker a fair deal.”
“Agro doesn’t play fair,” Vortigern laughed, “but only a fool denies the man service. Come on in. We’ll strike our deal over a hot meal. Have you traveled far?”
By the time Guthrie stepped into the largest of the adobe buildings, Vortigern had invited everyone to stay the night, and since Guthrie’s current plan was to sleep under the stars in the middle of the desert, he humbly accepted.
“Your hospitality is warmly received,” he returned, scanning the institute’s modernized interior. They’d gathered in a living room that seemed to double as a lobby. Witches and wizards milled around, the majority of them under thirty, and for the most part, they appeared in good spirits. Only a few wore the expressions of captives, which was exactly what they were – brainwashed girls and boys torn from their homes at an age too young to remember.
“First let’s fill your stomachs,” Vortigern suggested, leading his guests down a corridor. “Then we’ll attend to business.”
The meal was the finest Guthrie had eaten in a long time, and it was served by skimpily clad witches. When dessert was delivered, Guthrie caught Lynette’s eye and knew his appraisal of their servers hadn’t gone unnoticed. Not that he gave a shit what Lynette thought. He still wasn’t sure why he’d brought her to Nevada instead of sending her with the soldiers scouring California. It had been a last minute decision, one brought on by those damn eyes, their violet depths a reflection of his fractured soul.
As the dishes were cleared, Vortigern invited everyone to his library for a drink, which eventually turned into a full blown party. Quality booze, potent cannabis, and unrestrained sexuality flowed freely among magicians who’d been denied simple pleasures far too long, and Guthrie kept an eye on things from a comfortable chair in the corner, unwilling to deny his comrades a good time.
Vortigern stayed on the fringes as well, keeping Guthrie’s scotch filled while playing host through commands to his students, all of whom addressed him as Master Vortigern, and some of whom doubled as party favors.
Guthrie had worked out the details of Agro’s order by his second round of drinks; now Vortigern was explicating the theory of negative energy and how it relates to a person’s aura and well-being. Guthrie couldn’t care less, but he gave the impression he was listening as he drowned the lecture in liquor.
Scanning the long room, he found Token hooking up with a witch, and it made him think of Lyn, who’d been surprisingly quiet. He searched the sea of faces, but didn’t find her. Three others were missing as well.
“Problem?” Vortigern asked.
“Some of my soldiers are missing,” Guthrie answered, leaning forward to rise.
“Relax,” Vortigern insisted, pouring another round. “They retired to their room. I had a student lead the way. If I’d known you were coming, I would have been better prepared. As it is, I only had two rooms to offer you. I’m afraid your soldiers will be sleeping together tonight.”
“You’ve offered more than expected,” Guthrie noted. “Agro will hear of your hospitality.”
“Don’t bother. He won’t give a shit.”
Guthrie swallowed a smirk then downed his drink. “Well know that your kindness wasn’t lost on my comrades.”
“They looked weary,” Vortigern replied, sweeping his gaze across the room.
“You wouldn’t know it now,” Guthrie laughed. “I need to rein them in.”
“I’m surprised you refrain from joining them. Or does a man of your status get enough fun in camp?”
“A man of my status doesn’t know the meaning of the word.” Guthrie stood and turned to his host. “But a soft bed, I can appreciate.”
“I’ll have one of my girls show you the way,” Vortigern allowed. “Let your comrades play. We’ll lull them to sleep soon.”
Guthrie scanned Vortigern’s aura, looking for a hint of betrayal, but the man had proved himself an ally on all accounts. Even the deal had gone down smoothly. His best soothsayers, he claimed, were away on a job, but he offered the best of those in his reserve.
“Then I’ll let them play,” Guthrie agreed. But before following a young student from the library, he interrupted Token’s fun and placed him in charge of those staying up.
The scotch hit Guthrie’s head as he navigated the institute’s hallways, but he wasn’t so impaired he felt comfortable being alone with a scantily-clad witch who was so much younger than him. To Vortigern’s credit, Guthrie hadn’t seen any teenage witches thrown into the sexual games taking place in the library, but he had no doubt the institute held ugly secrets beneath its fancy surface.
“This is it,” the girl announced, motioning down a hallway with two doors. “The first room is for your soldiers; the second is yours.”
Guthrie headed for the second door without looking back at the young witch.
Being a man of few indulgences and accustomed to the fact, he hadn’t considered what his chamber might look like, so he entered the room without the slightest anticipation. Then he stumbled to a stop.
There, in a room bigger than the boss’ tent, and on a bed bigger than any he’d slept on, lay two witches – Lynette and another woman, one of Vortigern’s students.
“There you are,” Lynette gree
ted, rising from the bed. “Look what I found.”
Guthrie glanced between the temptation on the mattress and the one walking toward him. “Where did you find her?”
Lynette rolled her eyes. “Relax, Guthrie. She was eager to play along when our host made the suggestion.”
“So this was all Vortigern’s idea.”
“Mmhm….”
Guthrie looked at the witch on the bed, his voice strained by undeniable arousal. “How old is she?”
“Twenty. And she likes being told what to do. Don’t you, sweetheart?”
The woman cooed an agreement, and Lynette turned her back on Guthrie, shaking her ass as she returned to the bed. “See? All we’re missing is you. Now stop being so damn uptight and get over here.”
Guthrie pulled Silestra from his sleeve while shedding his clothes. Then he sent the snake on its way as he approached the bed and looked down at the student’s face.
Lynette stood on the mattress, bringing her eyes level with Guthrie’s. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
He swallowed, his gaze boring into Lyn’s. “Yes, she’s pretty… and acting of her own free will about as much as we are.”
“You want it, though.”
“Her? Yeah. Your schemes? No.”
Tracing the tattoos stretching up his neck, Lynette leaned close and whispered in his ear. “This could be your life, Guthrie… every night… forever.”
She nibbled his earlobe, and he shuddered and closed his eyes. “You’re a succubus, Lyn.”
“No,” she softly disagreed, sending a chill down his spine. “I am the light leading your way.”
Chapter Twelve
Layla and Quin had no problem figuring out how to conceal their bonded lights. They'd succeeded on the first try, and while it was uncomfortable, it wasn't as bad as keeping their auras hidden. Having their auras pulled in resulted in mood swings, like they could emotionally explode with a nudge, whereas having their bonded lights trapped inside filled them with so much love, they thought their hearts might burst with it. Still an emotional feeling, but at least it was limited to pleasing emotions.
The worst part of hiding the hazes, they soon found out, was not being able to see each other's. Layla burst into tears the first time she saw Quin bereft of his aura and bonded light. Until that moment, she'd never seen him conceal his aura... ever. The only time she'd seen him without it since he first revealed it to her was when she hid it for him, and the two instances had only lasted a few minutes. His aura was as much a part of him as anything else; to see him pull it in was a complete shock. But that wasn't what pushed her to tears.
Bonding with him had been the most wonderful and life-altering experience she'd had, and the one thing she held most dear was his love for her, so when she looked at him and could no longer see visual proof of those two things, her heart protested. That mixed with the overwhelming love she held for him, and the fact that her aura and bonded light were clammed up, triggered a breakdown.
Quin was quick to soothe her, releasing his aura and bonded light as he took her in his arms. Then he distracted her with a kiss when he sucked the lights back in. Seeing him without them still stung Layla’s heart, but she didn't burst into ridiculous sobs.
Their strengthened powers made it easy to transfer their belongings to the house, and after donning their cloaks and saying a quick goodbye to Karena's best room, they flew from the rose-covered terrace into the night. He quickly pulled her against him. Then he held her there all the way home.
They landed in the middle of their deserted lawn around midnight, and they leaned into each other as they sighed. No matter how beautiful the suite was, it didn't provide that warm and cozy feeling that accompanied a family.
Keeping their hazes hidden, they walked to Caitrin and Morrigan's, eager to get the greeting over with so they could go home.
As Quin reached up to knock, the door swung open to Caitrin, who offered a relieved smile and moved aside, motioning for them to enter. The rest of Layla grandparents and Quin’s parents were seated in the living room, but Layla and Quin ignored them as they moved into each other and released their lights.
“That's better,” she sighed, vanishing their cloaks. Then she shamelessly touched her cheek to his bare chest.
“Yes it is,” he agreed, intently searching her aura.
Layla kissed his heart. Then she took his hand and moved further into the room. “Sorry we're so late.”
“Don't apologize, sweetie,” Morrigan insisted, rising from the couch. “Are you guys hungry? I can have something ready in two minutes.”
They were starving, but they didn't want to eat there. Layla met Quin's stare with a smirk, and he grinned as he forced his gaze away. “Thanks, Morrigan, but we'll eat when we get home.”
“How about coffee then?”
“Yes,” they answered, and Layla's cheeks flushed as she buried her face in Quin’s chest.
Kemble quietly laughed, and Morrigan's lips twitched with a knowing smile. “Have a seat,” she suggested. “I'll be right back.”
Quin and Layla obeyed, sitting beside each other on the couch, but she steadily moved closer as he steadily pulled her in. By the time Morrigan returned with their coffee, Layla was on his lap. “Thanks,” they replied, taking their mugs.
“Made any plans?” Quin asked, his lips alternating between her hair and his mug.
“Yes,” Caitrin answered, summoning chairs for Morrigan and himself. “But before going much further, we need to let the rest of the family in on the secret. We've asked them to be here at four tomorrow. If it's okay with you, they'll find out then.”
Quin found Layla's eyes then returned his gaze to Caitrin. “That's fine. The sooner they know, the sooner we can relax when we're home.”
“Will they be able to stay a while?” Layla asked. “I haven't seen all of them since Friday.”
Everyone smiled as Caitrin answered. “They'll stay for dinner.”
“Good. I miss them.”
“They miss you, too, sweetie,” Morrigan assured.
Quin's coffee was half gone, and he yearned to get Layla alone. “Have you made any other plans?” he asked, watching her lips part around the brim of her mug.
Kemble laughed again, tearing his gaze from Quin’s aura so he could pull Cordelia onto his lap; and the other mates reached for each other as Caitrin answered the question. “We've found a few possible locations to test your magic. We hope to settle on one by tomorrow afternoon.”
“We've also brainstormed ways to stall Agro,” Serafin added. “We want him to wait as long as possible before making his move, but there isn’t much we can do. The fact that we've moved some of our members out of the community is the best leverage we have, so we've told the locals to be honest about our family staying elsewhere should someone approach them for information. If we can keep Agro believing we're expecting him, maybe he'll give it more time before moving in. There’s no guarantee, though, so be prepared to flee if he comes.”
Layla straightened and scowled at her grandpa. “No.”
Then Quin scowled at her. “What do you mean no?”
“He'll kill them, Quin. I'm not leaving while everyone else stays and dies. I already told you that.”
“You haven't learned to protect yourself, Layla. If he shows up tomorrow and we walk onto that lawn, we’ll die. We need a plan and some help before facing him.”
“If we don't walk onto that lawn, everyone else will die. Then where would we be? Stuck with no help, that's where.” She gulped the rest of her coffee and sent the mug to the table. “I understand we need a plan before facing him, but we need a contingency plan in case he shows up before we’re ready, because I'm not leaving this community and hiding unless everyone goes with me.”
Quin grimaced at her then turned to Caitrin. “Do you know where he's camped?”
“We have a general idea,” Caitrin answered.
“We need someone watching him,” Quin insisted. “I know it sounds d
angerous, sending one of our own to spy, but if Layla or I cast our concealment spells on them, they could fly right over the Unforgivables' camp without being noticed.”
“Yes, I suppose you're right.”
Layla twisted and looked at Quin. “If it's that easy, why don't I just conceal myself and go cut his throat in his sleep?”
Everyone gasped as Quin's face drained of color. “I don't like hearing you talk that way, Layla.”
“Well I'm not going to apologize. I know it sounds cruel and a little shady, but he's wreaked havoc on my life, and I'm tired of it.” Her jaw flexed as her eyes narrowed. “You feel the same way.”
“Of course I do. I wouldn't hesitate to cut Agro's throat, but I don't like hearing my angel talk that way. I’d do anything to keep his blood from staining your hands.” He took a calming breath. Then he swept his fingertips across her heart. “Besides, it would be impossible. Our concealment spells would keep the Unforgivables from seeing us fly over their camp, but if we moved closer the spells would break. They set magic around their settlement to keep people from entering undetected.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders sagged as her chest deflated. “Why didn't you just say that in the first place?”
Quin sighed as he softly tugged on her pucker. Then he looked at Caitrin. “If we have someone watching him, we can empty the community before he gets here. That way no one will have to face him until we're ready.”
Layla perked up. “I like that idea… as long as the spy stays safe.”
“It's better than walking out to an execution,” Caitrin agreed. “We'll speak with the coven and ask for volunteers. In the meantime, you are leaving if he shows up.”
“No,” Layla refused.
“Layla...”
“No,” she interrupted. “I'm being forced to face him with you beside me, so it's only fair you’re forced to face him with me beside you.”
The Bond Page 11