Deception (12 page)

“Don't be so sad,” Brietta insisted, pulling Layla into a hug. “We'll be fine, and we'll visit nearly everyday.” She leaned back, faking a stern expression as she pointed. “Now you need to be careful and stay safe. Understand?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Layla agreed. Then she pulled her into another hug. “When can I see you again, Bri? We need to make a date.”

“How about tomorrow?”

“Really?”

“Sure. Quin and I can take you out. What do you think?” she asked, looking at Quin. “Want to take her to Mount Hood tomorrow?”

“Good idea,” Quin agreed. “Around two?”

“That works. We'll eat lunch before heading over there.”

“Perfect,” Layla approved, feeling lighter than before. “Thanks, Bri. You're pure sunshine.”

“I know,” Brietta boasted, tossing her golden hair around, but then she sobered. “Now stay out of trouble, Layla Love, and I'll see you tomorrow.”

Layla gave her one more hug. Then Brietta flipped over Quin and landed on his back. “See ya, Quin.”

“See ya, Bri,” he returned, patting her arm.

She kissed his cheek while tugging on his hair. Then she let go and flew to her parents.

“Bri's an angel,” Layla noted, moving into Quin’s chest.

He hugged her tightly as he ran a palm down her hair, but just as she was getting comfortable, he let go. “Let's say goodnight to your grandparents then go to our magical room.”

“Sounds like heaven,” she sighed, letting him tuck her under his arm.

“Do you need to call Travis and Phyllis?” he asked.

“It’s late,” she replied. “I’ll call them tomorrow.”

They said goodnight to the ten family members who remained in the community, then headed for Caitrin and Morrigan's house. Halfway there they passed Finley, who sat in the same spot he'd been all afternoon. Not once had he gotten up to eat, drink or use the bathroom; and his gaze never strayed from Layla.

She averted her face as she walked by, a tinge of sympathy tugging on her heart, but she refused to reward Finley with attention when he wasn’t willing to earn it. She’d stated her condition, and it was such a simple request – respect Quin. But that seemed to be the one thing Finley couldn’t do, so after hours of making himself available to her, he was ignored and left alone on the lawn.

The enchanted guestroom was even more beautiful than Layla remembered, so she rushed her bathroom routine, anxious to return to the moonlit meadow. Quin was already on their blanketed hill, magnificently stretched out in nothing but pajama pants, so Layla stripped down to her panties and crawled to the spot beside him.

“That was sexy,” he praised, pulling her closer.

She crossed her arms on his chest and propped her chin on them. “You’re sexy.”

He laughed as he brushed her hair back and took her cheeks. “I bet that’s the first time those words have ever left your mouth.”

“Did it sound stupid?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“No,” he assured. “It sounded like beautiful music.”

He drifted a finger down her spine, and she shivered while watching his eyes. Their espresso depths were very expressive, sometimes conveying more than his mouth, but they didn’t tell her everything she wanted to know.

“There’s something I want to ask you,” she said, taking an unexpected plunge.

“Shoot,” he offered.

Now that she’d jumped, she feared delving deeper, so it took her several nervous seconds to go on. “Why haven't you told me about your dreams?”

“What do you mean? You've never asked.”

“Not your average dreams,” she clarified, but then she paused, afraid to say more. She didn't understand why he hadn't told her and worried he didn't want her to know.

“What are you asking, Layla? And why are you so worried about asking it?”

“I don't want to upset you.”

“That’s highly unlikely, so out with it.”

She kissed his heart then looked back up, but she didn’t explain herself.

“Come on, love,” he coaxed. “You're making me worry. What is it you want to know?”

She slid a fingernail from his pecs to his throat. Then she took his cheek, dipping her thumb into a shallow dimple. “Why haven't you told me you have recurring dreams about me?”

His eyebrows shot up then furrowed. “Where did you hear that?”

“From the same person who told me about you dating Caitlyn. Is it true?”

“I’d really like to know who told you these things. Was it someone in the coven?”

“No.”

“I'm not looking for revenge, Layla. I just want to know whose stories you're hearing.”

She sighed then caved. “A witch named Maeveen. So is it true?”

“Maeveen, huh. She is a nosy one, isn't she?”

“I don't know. I don't know her, but she seems to know me.”

“She doesn't know you, and she and I aren't close enough for her to broadcast my personal life to people.”

“Why won't you answer me, Quin? What's going on?”

He shifted her into the crook of his arm then rolled onto his side, sweeping her hair back while giving her a kiss. “Yes,” he finally confessed. “Ever since I can remember, which is a long time, I've had recurring dreams about you.”

“Why haven't you told me about them?”

“Because I don't want you to think they're the reason I care about you. I was afraid if you found out about them, you’d think the only reason I want you is to fulfill my dreams, or to see if the real woman compares to the dream woman.”

“Do I?”

“No. You're way better than my dream Layla. For one thing, she never had a face. She was just a beautiful blur of colors. For another, she didn't have a personality really, more like an emotional presence. And most importantly, I couldn’t touch her. She slipped through my fingers every time I tried.”

“Why do you think you had the dreams?”

“I don't know. I've been asking myself that for years. Maybe I had them because I'd heard the coven talk about you. But now that I know and love you, I like to think I was meant to find you at Cinnia's cafe, and the dreams were a way of keeping you fresh in my mind until then.”

“Did I talk in the dreams?”

“Sometimes.”

“Did I sound like me?”

“Yes. When I was young, so were you, but the adult dream Layla sounded like you do when you're feeling confident.”

“What kind of things did I say?”

“You were my angel even then. If I was upset about something, you’d appear in my dreams and let me vent; if I was excited about something, you’d keep the celebration going all night. I could talk about anything and you’d listen, and you encouraged every decision I’ve ever made. The dreams were always there when I needed them to be.”

“And sometimes when you didn't.”

He took a deep breath then sighed it out. “Maeveen has a big mouth.”

“Maybe. Is what she said true? Did the dreams cause problems with your relationships?”

“Yes. I’m sure you can imagine why.”

“I can imagine it being hard on everyone involved.”

He shook his head, leaning close as he laid a thumb on her lips. “I felt guilty for hurting the women who couldn’t handle it, but I never wished the dreams away. They were as much a part of me as my magic, and when everyone else was gone, I still had my angel to keep me company.”

“Do you still have them?”

“Nope. My dream Layla hasn't visited me since the night before I met you. One week ago tonight, she was officially replaced by you. I dream about you every night, Layla, and now you have a gorgeous face and a beautiful personality to go along with your reassuring words. Those dreams got me through everything, and I’ll never regret having them, but I have the real Layla now, and I don’t want it to go back to the way it was before. I want you to know that above everything else. Those dreams were special to me, but not as special as you are. And not because of the dreams. I love you because of who you are and what you do for me here and now, not because of what you did for me then.”

“I like that you dreamed about me,” she whispered. “I wish I'd had a dream Quin to keep me company. It would have made things easier.”

“I’d do anything to make things easier on you, Layla.”

“I know. You're my hero.”

“I want to be, but I don’t always feel like I am.”

“What? Why not?”

He smoothed her creased forehead then smiled, but his shiny eyes exposed his sorrow. “Because I can’t beat all the bad guys.”

“That’s not all a hero does,” she countered, laying a hand on his chest. “You make my heart beat, Quin, like never before, and you can make it melt, too. I’m not looking for a knight in shining armor. I want a man who speaks to me like you do, looks at me and touches me like you do. Oh, and who loves to get me coffee like you do.”

He laughed, and she quickly moved a forefinger to one of his dimples.

“That’s my idea of a hero,” she added, “and you already got the job, for as long as you’re willing to keep it.”

“Forever,” he insisted.

“You sure about that?” she asked. “Apparently I’m a lot of work.”

“You’re a blessing beyond measure. It’s a pleasure to speak to you and look at you, and touching you is a thrill most men would kill for.”

“And all you have to do is keep up with my coffee addiction.”

“I’ll do much more than that, Layla.”

“I know, Quin. It was a joke.”

“I realize that, but I’m as serious as I’ve ever been. I was raised on a wave of love and witnessed its evidence every day, physical and emotional examples of a word too few can define, so I know what I want out of life, and I’ve searched for it for years, but it wasn’t there until you came along. The way I feel when I'm with you is exactly how I want to feel, and I’ll devote the rest of my life to keeping it that way.”

“That’s a big commitment to make after a mere week.”

“I don’t care about the time frame. Like I said, I know what love is, and despite being raised on a wave of it, I know how rare it is. To disregard how I feel about you would be foolish, and I’d regret it for the rest of my life.” He paused, his expression thoughtful as he wrapped a curl around his finger. “That doesn’t mean I expect a commitment from you. If you feel a week is too short to know if you want to spend the rest of your life with me, that’s okay. It’s more than okay, it’s reasonable, and you have the rest of my life to figure it out.”

“Doesn’t that make you sad, though? The idea of a one-sided commitment?”

“No. I feel grateful for every minute I get to spend with you, and a commitment isn’t necessary for us to enjoy each other.”

“That’s true, because I’ve enjoyed you from the beginning.”

“Beautiful music to my ears,” he approved, sweeping his gaze over her body. Then he magically dressed her in one of his t-shirts. “Did Maeveen say anything else I should know about?”

“Just that you’re a heartbreaker.”

He frowned and found her eyes. “She said that?”

Layla nodded, and he looked down, his jaw flexing as his aura slowed. “I didn’t know.”

“Come on, Quin. How could you not know? You’re the most observant man I’ve ever met.”

“I never took their hearts, Layla. I realize I’ve hurt some feelings in the past, but the bigger crime would have been letting them believe I was their man.
I was always honest with them about my intentions, and I did my best to steer clear of emotional involvement.” He paused, his throat fluctuating as he swallowed. Then he raised his gaze to hers. “I didn’t know they consider me a heartbreaker, and I regret giving them a reason to, but please know I’ve never asked for a heart I didn’t intend to keep whole, and I’ve only asked for one.”

She raised questioning eyebrows and pointed to her chest.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his lips twitching into a smile. “This one.”

She flashed a smug grin, and he laughed as he kissed it. “Anything else I need to know about your conversation with Maeveen?”

“No. I believe we’ve cleared everything up.”

“Good,” he approved, giving her another kiss. Then he offered up his chest. “Want your usual spot?”

Layla grinned as she gave him one more kiss. Then she tucked herself in to the most heavenly place on earth. After nuzzling his pecs for several seconds, she laid her ear over his heart. “Hey.”

“Hey back.”

“You may not expect my commitment, but there’s something you’re forgetting.”

“What’s that,” he asked, burying his face in her hair.

“I’m a slave to my addictions,” she whispered, “and you’re one of them.”

Chapter 8

“Curse the hexless,” Agro muttered, tugging on his collar as he entered yet another hotel, this one in downtown Seattle. It had taken twenty soldiers five hours to track the name Layla Callaway, but they’d finally hit the jackpot. Now Agro was there to claim the prize.

He crossed the lobby with Guthrie in tow, but they didn’t approach the front desk. Instead, they headed for the elevators. Agro halted and pressed the button, but Guthrie continued down the corridor to a men’s restroom.