Deception (6 page)

Read Deception Online

Authors: B. C. Burgess

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: Deception
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“Forgot what?”

“This room. It’s where my parents bonded.” She tilted her head and cocked an eyebrow. “I was conceived in this room.”

“Then it's a very special room,” Quin noted.

“It is a special room,” she agreed, her voice muffled by a lump. “It’s where he asked her to marry him.” She held up her right hand, flashing the zultanite and diamond wedding ring. “Where he gave her this.”

“Will you be okay staying here?”

“Um… I think so.”

“But you’re not sure.”

“I am,” she insisted.

Quin took her word for it and carried her to the attached bathroom. “I'm going to use one of the other bathrooms and find you something to sleep in. Having your bare chest against mine is a dream come true, but I think you should sleep in clothes until the danger passes.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “May we keep our shirts off until we fall asleep?”

“I was hoping you’d ask, and yes we can.” He kissed her forehead then left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Layla turned to the sink and splashed water on her face, heavy-hearted, guilty, and at a loss for resolutions. Her new world was falling down around her, and if they didn’t come up with a way to stop Agro soon, all of them would die.

She sighed as she flipped off the light and opened the door, finding Quin standing nearby in a clean pair of pajama pants, his appearance ever tidy. Even the small lock of hair that always fell over his forehead looked like it belonged there, the tip of its wave parallel to the slanted end of his eyebrow. Once in a while he pushed it back, but it always returned.

“You move with super hero speed,” she noted, sliding the straps of her dress off her shoulders. “I’ll never be able to keep up with you.”

“I’d never leave you behind,” he vowed, watching her gown fall to the floor.

She tucked her fingers into his waistband and pulled him to the bed. Then she crawled to the pillows and lay on her back. “I believe you.”

After helping himself to a long look at her body, Quin moved to the spot beside her and propped his head on his hand. He reached for one of her curls as he spoke – something about healing her – but she didn’t comprehend. The image of him lying like that, in that room, was all too familiar. Only her memory wasn't of a man with shiny dark eyes. It was of a man with bright emerald eyes.

Tears blurred her vision as she reflected on her existence. Her parents’ love and sacrifice, the coven's endangerment… her life – it had started much like this, moments after her dad lay in that room, just as Quin was lying, and looked at her mom, just as Quin was looking at her.

A lump consumed her throat as Quin's dark eyebrows pinched together. “Layla?”

“You have to move,” she blurted, squeezing her eyes shut. “We have to do something different, lie a different way or… something.”

“Oh,” he exclaimed.

Layla felt his weight leave the mattress and opened one eye, finding him standing beside the bed. “I’m sorry,” she offered, already missing his warmth. “But I can't handle the similarities. It's weird and too much to take in.”

“I get it. You don't have to explain.”

“Thank you.”

“Should we change rooms?”

“Can we make it look different? Maybe if we move the bed and I face the wall. There are enough pillows to hide the headboard.”

Quin scanned the room then smiled. “Close your eyes.”

“Okay,” she agreed, grinning as she obeyed.

Several minutes passed before he crawled into bed, but she patiently waited, beyond thankful for all the ways he took care of her. His body heat crept over her right side as he scooted close. Then he laid his fingers over her heart and kissed her lips.

“That was tasty,” she whispered, licking her grin.

He kissed her again then leaned back. “Open your eyes.”

She did, and her lungs yanked in air as she glanced between him and his creation. “Oh my god, Quin. It's beautiful.”

They were surrounded by a night sky complete with distant planets, a bright cratered moon, and a constellation of her name. She leaned up, sweeping her gaze left to right, and her mouth fell open. Lush, green grass covered the floor, and the furniture and walls had disappeared, replaced by gently rolling hills, dark sky and more bright stars. Layla leaned over and pulled at the comforter, finding the illusion of a grass covered mound where the bed should be.

“Oh my god.” She straightened and found Quin’s eyes. “You have got to be my imagination running away with me. You can't be real.”

“You like it?”

“Are you kidding? It's perfect. You're perfect. The things you do for me… they’re incredible.”

“I want you to be happy,” he replied, touching her smile.

She sobered as she took his hand, her forehead wrinkling over moist eyes. “I don’t need to be spoiled to be happy with you. You’re not my slave.”

“Don't,” he objected.

“Don’t what?” she countered.

“Don't take anything Finley spews at you to heart. I know that’s where this is coming from, but he’s wrong. I do things for you because I love you, not because you demand them of me, and this coven takes care of you because you’re part of the family, not because we feel indebted or subservient. The only reason Finley made those remarks is because he doesn’t understand the bonds we share.”

“I guess,” she conceded, returning his hand to her heart. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For loving me, and for giving me so much. Someday I’ll find a way to make you as happy as you make me.”

“You made me the happiest man on earth the day you walked into my life. Mission accomplished.”

“We’ll see,” she countered, smiling as she pulled him in for a kiss. “I love you.”

He grinned and raised his eyebrows. “Now that makes me happier than I deserve to be.”

Chapter 4

Agro hated hexless fashion – the constricting cuts, conservative coverage, and itchy material. And he hated hexless establishments – their mundane style and mediocre service. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d donned slacks, a collared shirt, and a pair of shoes to mingle with the untalented breed.

“May I help you, sir?” the receptionist asked.

Agro watched Guthrie disappear around a corner. Then he turned to the desk. “I’m looking for a guest.”

“Name?” the woman asked, perching her fingers over her keyboard.

“Layla Callaway.”

The receptionist furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. “You’re too late. She checked out several days ago.”

“You know her?”

“No, but you’re not the first person to ask about her.”

“Is that so?” Agro hummed. “When did she check out?”

“Last weekend.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“No.”

Agro took a calming breath and forced a smile. “Will you tell me what room she was in?”

“Why? She hasn’t been here for days.”

Lacking a suitable answer, Agro considered reaching across the desk and taking the woman by her spiky hair, just long enough to read her mind. Then Guthrie emerged from the hallway and gave a slight nod.

“I suppose you’re right,” Agro conceded. “Thank you for your time.”

“Okay,” she replied, raising a sarcastic eyebrow.

Agro’s nostrils flared as he turned away, his distaste for the hexless growing.

He wasted no time exiting the hotel. Then he treaded down the sidewalk and met Guthrie at the corner. “What did you find?”

Guthrie removed his gloves and dug into a pocket. “Her registration form. She checked in last Thursday, then out Sunday night.”

Agro took the evidence and memorized the information. Then he crumpled the card and tossed it in a nearby trash can. “So Belinos spoke the truth.”

Guthrie smirked and raised his left sleeve, offering his snake some air. “That hot little number you used for leverage did the trick. To Seattle then?”

“I’m afraid so,” Agro grumbled, motioning for Guthrie to walk with him. “But we’re days behind her. She could be anywhere by now.”

“The male bonded child is ahead of us as well. Perhaps he’s found her.”

“Perhaps,” Agro agreed, nodding at a parking garage attendant before entering the cement structure. “And that would mean they’re either heading this way, or they’re already here. Unless, of course, he hasn’t found her, in which case they could be moving further away.”

“That’s quite a predicament, sir.”

“Yes it is.”

“Are you sure she’s worth it?”

Agro halted and turned, pressing knuckles into Guthrie’s tattooed neck as he took him by the collar. “You’re new to your position, so I’m going to forgive that slight, but if you ever question my intentions again, I’ll rip out your throat and feed it to your snake. Layla is no ordinary witch. She is an untapped mine of unimaginable power; power that will be mine at all costs. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Guthrie replied, remarkably stoic.

“Good,” Agro approved, “because I’m tempted to rip out your throat just for the hell of it, so now’s not the time to test me.” Pushing the lieutenant away, Agro vanished his shoes and shirt and donned his cloak. “Conceal yourself. We’re taking our fastest soldiers to Seattle. I want to be there by daybreak so we can rest. Then we’ll continue the hunt tonight.”

“Yes, sir,” Guthrie replied, slipping on his cloak. Then both wizards melted into the shadows and flew from the garage.

Chapter 5

Layla blinked her eyes open to Quin’s chest and sighed, trying to recall the circumstances in which she fell asleep. Oh yeah, he’d been healing her.

“Good morning,” he whispered, running a hand down her hair. “How do you feel?”

Tingles slid across her scalp, and she magicked her teeth clean before smiling at him. “I just woke up in a starlit meadow with a handsome man’s arms around me. I feel like I’m still dreaming.”

“I like that,” he approved, leaning in for a kiss. “But it’s two in the afternoon. How does food and coffee sound?”

“Delicious.”

“Why don’t you go take your shower while I get you something to wear? Then we'll check on our family before finding food.”

“What about coffee?”

“I’d never make you wait that long for coffee. I'll get you a cup before I go.”

“My hero,” she sighed.

“My angel,” he returned, sliding his hands to her butt. “My extremely sexy angel. It turns me on to see you in my t-shirt.”

She leaned back and looked at the shirt swallowing her. “When did you put this on me?”

“After I finished healing you.”

“Oh.” She smiled at him. “I like it, too.”

“Come here,” he said, pulling her into a hug.

She happily tucked in, listening to his heart while he played with her hair.

“Your coffee's ready,” he eventually whispered.

“I would give it up for you,” she offered.

He hugged her tightly then let go. “You’re as sweet as your coffee, but I’d never make you give up what you love.”

She smiled and kissed his chest, then worked her way off their magical hill. When her feet found soft grass, she giggled and wiggled her toes. “You're something else,” she mumbled, shaking her head as she walked to the bathroom.

Upon her return, she nearly trampled through a garden of pink and white rain lilies he’d summoned while she was away. “Pretty,” she approved, skirting the flowers.

Quin stood nearby with a steaming cup of coffee, so she reached out with both hands, taking the mug in one and his heart in the other. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome. Do you care what I bring you to wear?”

“Not really.”

“Then I'll bring you another one of my shirts.”

She sipped then grinned at him. “I'll wear your shirt all day if that's what you want.”

“It looks amazing on you, but I want you to be comfortable.”

“I am comfortable.”

“Would you be comfortable wearing it in front of the rest of the family?”

“Oh,” she mumbled, blushing at her exposed legs.

“That’s what I thought,” he laughed. “I’ll get a dress from your closet. Care which one?”

“Hero’s choice,” she offered.

“Excellent,” he approved. “Morrigan and Daleen are downstairs if you need anything. If I'm not back by the time you're done showering, you can throw on my shirt and go see them.”

“You always beat me.”

“I don't want to keep you waiting,” he explained, leaning in for a kiss. Then he headed for a door camouflaged in night sky.

“Quin,” she called.

“Yeah?” he replied.

She smiled as she lifted the hem of her borrowed shirt. “I'll need underwear.”

“Right,” he agreed, flashing deep dimples. “Be back soon.”

Layla watched him go. Then she sat on the soft grass, drinking her coffee while gazing at the stars and smelling the lilies. Their creator was amazing. He was handsome and smooth, and he devoted his time to beautifying her world, to giving her snippets of peace from the pain and violence ravaging every other aspect of her life. And she drank his generosity in, submersing herself in his euphoric clouds every chance she got.

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