Deception (41 page)

“That sounds like fun,” she agreed.

He smiled and traced her grin. “Then that's what we'll do.”

Chapter 27

The atmosphere hummed with musical laughter as the young group of magicians shared their wine and tossed around spells like candy at a parade. Challenges, no matter how big or small, were accepted like air, and the losers endured their positions in stride, never getting upset about defeat or having a spell tossed in their face.

Layla was awestruck and slightly intimidated by the rowdy magicians, so she stayed quiet and unobtrusive, and they let her, keeping their curiosity and questions to themselves.

Quin was an active part of the conversations, but only if he was directly addressed. Otherwise, he kept his face in Layla's hair and his lips on her neck. She knew he was using her pulse to judge her reactions to the situation, and since his aura didn’t give her cause for concern, she didn’t feel guilty about being the center of his attention.

Weylin emptied the last jug then jumped to his feet, and the rest of the wizards stood as well. Quin gave Layla a tight hug before lowering her feet to the ground. Then he removed his shirt and held it open for her.

She beamed as she slipped her arms in and pulled his collar to her nose, but he pulled it back down and gave her a kiss laced with magical heat. “It's time for our game,” he whispered. “Let Bri keep you warm, and don’t be afraid to call me if you need me.”

She pulled him into another kiss then smiled. “Have fun.”

He gave her butt a soft pat before turning away, and she stifled a pucker as she watched him go.

“Sit,” Brietta instructed, tugging on Layla’s hand. “They have to get ready first.”

Layla sat next to her cousin and leaned close. “How are they supposed to play hockey here?”

“It's not like hexless hockey,” Brietta answered, pointing toward the guys.

Layla looked over to find Weylin digging into his bag and tossing shoes to the other wizards. The footwear looked normal, like running shoes, but then Quin flipped one of his shoes over, and several small blades began extending and retracting from different spots along the sole, the toe, the heel, and the sides.

“The shoes are magically enhanced for the sake of precision,” Brietta explained. “Each player can mentally adjust twenty different blades to any position they need them at any given moment.”

Layla was about to ask what they’d play on when Kennet spoke. “Should I put up the rink?”

“Sure, Ken,” Weylin laughed. “You do that, and not only will we be here all day waiting for you to get the job done, our game will last for about ten minutes before the damn thing cracks and breaks. You put it up, Quin. I don't want to play on a lopsided slab. This is the only game I've gotten in two months. I want the best.”

“Then you're asking the wrong person,” Quin returned, double-checking his shoes.

Weylin looked up from the laces he was magically tying and raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me your angel can cast a better ice rink than you?”

“She's never tried, but yes, I have no doubt hers would be better than mine.”

“Go for it, gorgeous,” Weylin insisted, flipping his gaze to Layla.

Her eyes widened as her cheeks flamed. “I don't know what you're wanting.”

Quin looked up and smiled. “It’ll be easy,” he assured, throwing three tiny fireballs across the clearing. They each hit a different tree, branding the bark with an X. Then the flames extinguished as Quin continued. “Throw a block of ice up there, and have it stretch from that far tree halfway out over the clearing. Make sure there's a clearance of fifteen feet between the edge of the rink and the three trees I've marked, and it needs to be thirty feet off the ground and five feet thick. Make the surface as level as possible, both top and bottom, but we don't want it squared off. The edges need to be rounded, no sharp corners at all. Like an elongated pancake.”

“Give her a break,” Weylin interjected. “It doesn't have to be that damn perfect.”

Quin looked at him and raised his eyebrows. “It will be.” Then he turned back to Layla. “If you feel like messing with it. If not, I'll do it.”

“I'll give it a shot,” she agreed. “Thirty feet up and five feet thick?”

“Yep. My marks are thirty feet high, so go by them.”

She looked to the other half of the clearing, mentally measuring the distance between the trees Quin had marked. Then she summoned an image of what he’d described and flicked her fingers toward the sky. A huge slab of ice appeared, and she set a spell to keep it in place before grinning at Quin.

He winked at her then looked at Weylin. “Why don't you fly up there and let us know just how perfect it is?”

Weylin shot into the air and examined the rink’s details, making sure the surface was level and smooth; measuring its depth and height and clearance from the trees; and searching for rough edges, which he didn't find. He flew higher to get a bird's eye view. Then his loud laugh echoed through the clearing. Layla laughed, too, and everyone looked at her with furrowed brows.

“You're right,” Weylin shouted. “Its details are flawless.” He laughed again and shook his head. “Your angel might have put it there, Quin, but it's got your name written all over it.”

Quin looked at Layla for an explanation, but she didn’t offer him anything more than a wink. He raised a dark eyebrow then soared into the air, and the others followed, leaving Layla behind. She watched as Quin flew over the rink and looked down. Then her insides fluttered as he smiled and raised a hand to his heart, his aura pulsing with pleasing colors.

If her magic had done what she’d meant it to, he’d found his name written in the center of the ice with emerald-green rose petals – thousands of them forming huge cursive letters.

After staring at the rink for several seconds, he headed back to earth, and Layla stood to greet him. “Did it work?”

He landed in front of her. Then his hands were on her waist, picking her up and pulling her into a deep kiss. Her lungs emptied, and he inhaled the hot breath, gliding one hand to her butt as the other slipped into her hair.

Her knees shook, aching to wrap around his hips and pull him even closer, and her buttocks twitched under his firm fingers. When he pulled his lips from hers, he moved them to her neck, and she shuddered while clutching his shoulders. “I guess that's a yes,” she breathed, throbbing from head to toe.

He worked his way back up to her mouth and kissed her hard and deep. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“It's not that special.”

“You’re wrong.” He kissed her again, rushing her with magical warmth. Then he lowered her feet to the ground. “I'm going to go get this game over with.”

“Okay,” she pouted.

“I'll make it worth your wait,” he promised, softly tugging on her bottom lip with his thumb. Then he soared above the rink, absorbing one more bird’s-eye view of her work before landing on it. “Let's get started,” he called. “I have plans.”

“I bet you do,” Brynton taunted, punching him in the shoulder.

Quin glanced at Brynton’s shoes, and the laces snaked into a jumbled mess. “Good luck getting that knot out,” Quin jeered, and Brynton cursed as he knelt.

“That was a good idea putting rose petals in the ice,” Brietta commended, taking Layla's hand. “It makes for a prettier background.”

Layla turned her smile from Quin to Brietta. “Thanks.”

“Sure. Let's get a better seat.”

“What do you mean?”

“We don't want to crane our necks. Let's hover.”

The two of them floated to a spot level with the ice. Then they stopped and crossed their legs, at ease sitting in mid-air. Caitlyn and Maeveen rose as well, but instead of hovering next to Brietta like Layla assumed they would, they positioned themselves a few yards away. Determined to ignore the unspoken insult, whatever the motivation behind it might be, Layla turned her attention to the rink. The wizards had split into two teams of three, and two blocks of ice shaped like goals had appeared on opposite ends of the rink.

“What will they use for hockey sticks?” Layla asked.

“They don’t use sticks,” Brietta answered. “They're allowed to use their feet and their magic to move the puck, but that's it. No hands. And the puck can't leave the ice.”

“But doesn't that mean they could play the entire game standing still?”

“No, because if a player has magical control over the puck, they have to be within two feet of it. If someone captures it from too far away, not only does the other team get possession of the puck, but the guilty player gets one hell of a ribbing. It's an amateur's foul, so you probably won't see it. Oh, and you’ll know when someone has a magical hold on the puck by its color; it will glow the same color as its captor’s eyes.”

“May the players leave the ice?” Layla asked.

Brietta flashed a wide grin. “Yes, and that's what makes it so much fun to watch. Well, that and the fact that the rink is two-sided. When the puck goes over the edge, so do they.”

Layla’s mouth fell open. “They play upside down?”

“Yep, and it's a whole different theory when they’re upside down. Instead of jumping, they release their magic and let gravity do the work, but then they have to catch themselves and rise back up, feet first. Now, where the puck is concerned, they have to take over for gravity, because if it falls from the ice while they're upside down, the last team with control over it gets the penalty, and possession goes to the other team.”

“So why use feet at all?” Layla asked, watching the wizards gather in huddles. “Why not use magic the whole time?”

“A couple of reasons,” Brietta answered. “One, it’s mentally exhausting, and two, magic and physical force are balanced in this game. It’s easier to break a player’s magical hold with physical force, and it’s easier to steal a physical possession with magic, so you’ll see a lot of exciting turnovers.”

Quin was the captain of one team, with Nevyn and Kegan on his side, while Weylin was captain over Brynton and Kennet. The huddles broke as they glided toward the center of the ice. Then they looked at Brynton, who hadn’t moved and was getting pissed at his laces.

“All right, Quin, fix them or we'll be here all day.”

Quin looked at the laces, which loosened and retied into neat bows, and Brynton grumbled as he joined his teammates. As soon as all six wizards stood in a circle, Weylin tossed a puck high into the air.

Layla had her eyes on Quin, who had his eyes on her, but then he winked and turned his attention to the puck, which caught fire as it reached its apex. The flames toppled to the ice, sizzling into smoke as they hit the rink’s cold surface. Then chaos erupted.

The puck glowed the same color as Kennet’s eyes as his magic pushed it toward Brynton and Weylin, both of whom stretched out a foot in anticipation. But Kegan moved faster than Kennet’s magic and took physical possession, using a toe to tap the puck toward Nevyn, who was halfway to their goal. Quin darted after the puck, taking magical control to ensure its path to his teammate, but Weylin caught up and flipped over him, intent on stealing it away. Quin barely glanced up then slid feet-first beneath Weylin’s incoming blades, completing the pass to Nevyn. No one was around to block Nevyn’s shot, so the puck glided into the icy goal. A green notch carved into the goal’s frozen frame, but there was no break to be had. The puck immediately floated to the rink's center and caught fire, and the six players were beneath it, ready to repeat the process.

“So what do you think?” Brietta asked.

Layla wasn't sure what to think. Her heart nearly exploded when Quin slid beneath Weylin's bladed shoes, and by the look of things, that wouldn't be the only close call. Everywhere the puck went, razor sharp blades went, and she didn't understand how injuries hadn't already occurred. Their bodies were constantly a split second from colliding, and they didn't hold back when they slid under, flipped over, or plowed in front of each other.

“It's definitely exciting,” Layla answered, “but kind of scary.”

“You're forgetting,” Brietta countered, “we can heal ourselves.”

“That doesn't mean it's okay to get hurt.” Layla cringed as Weylin and Brynton rushed together in front of Quin, who had to forgo his magical hold on the puck and shoot into the air to avoid a collision.

The puck slid over the edge, and Layla struggled with the urge to hide her eyes as the game turned upside down. Every time someone's feet left the ice, it looked like they were going to fall on their heads, and in an effort to make sure the puck didn't plummet to earth, they were bunched in a raucous cluster, trying to stay within two feet of the puck while battling for control. And apparently throwing elbows wasn't out of the question, because they physically wrestled for prime positions.

Brietta reached over and squeezed Layla's hand. “It's okay, Layla. The players hardly ever get seriously injured, and Quin doesn’t ever get injured. Really, it's unfair to even have him in the game. He has way too many physical and magical advantages.”

“Physical?” Layla mumbled, too nervous to tear her gaze from Quin.

“Yeah,” Brietta confirmed. “He’s more dexterous than others. It’s a perk unique to bonded children. You guys move and react faster than us, and your physical endurance exceeds ours.”