Impassion (Mystic) (26 page)

Holding the cluster of fire in his fingers, he raised his hand and twisted his wrist, enlarging the flames as they swirled into a cyclone. With another flick of his wrist, the burning tornado spiraled into the bonfire.

“For the sake of argument,” he answered, “you can call me a fire child.”

Layla stared at hot coals as she nodded, unimpressed. She’d seen better fire magic than that. Quin treated her to a magnificent blaze the day she discovered magic.

An image suddenly flashed through her brain so clearly, she glanced around, wondering if she’d actually seen it. The vision had come and gone quickly, so she didn’t have time to observe all the details, but it had looked like the bonfire she was staring at, only from a different angle… or a different perspective.

She scanned the nearby magicians, looking for murmuring lips or twitching fingers, but the only one paying attention to her was Finley, who seemed concerned.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, rubbing her head.

The unexplained image flashed again, slow enough to catch the details, and it
was
the fire she was looking at—the exact same scene her eyes beheld, but from a different point-of-view, a different mental outlook.

Jittery and confused, Layla struggled to hide the head trips. “I’m going to take off, Finley.”

“Is it something I said?”

There it was again, traveling slower still, more distinct in its details each time it flashed by. It felt like her brain had divided in two, splitting her focus right down the middle.

“No,” she answered, glancing at Finley. “I have somewhere I need to be.”

Another vision hit her, but this time it was different. The scene remained the same, but it was captured from a bird’s eye view and from a long distance away. Nerves on fire, Layla itched to jump up and run, but forced herself to remain outwardly calm.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Finley asked. “You seem lost.”

That was one way to put it. She needed to leave so she could figure out what was going on. “I’m fine…” she started, but she trailed off when a flash of color sped to the ground, silently landing halfway down the beach.

Everyone looked at the aura, watching its swift approach, and Layla swallowed a painful lump, worried she’d found the danger her family warned her about.

The aura merged with firelight, and a tall figure in a black cloak removed his hood.

“Quin?” Tessa asked.

“No shit,” Liam mumbled. “What brings you here, man?”

Quin didn’t respond or glance in their direction. His black eyes stayed glued to Layla as he maintained his purposeful pace, his jaw tight, his fingers flexing.

A rush of relief had fluttered Layla’s stomach when he first dropped his hood. Now her insides clenched. He was angry. Really angry. She steeled herself for his reprimand, knowing it would be immensely hard to take. He’d never said a harsh word to her, but by the look on his face, that was about to change.

Tessa rose from her driftwood chair and stood in Quin’s path, flirtatiously flipping her hair. “I hear you’re single again. Looking to get over your heartbreak?”

She could have been invisible by the way Quin stared through her, not saying a word as he bypassed the obstacle, which did not suit Tessa at all. She huffed and rotated, bitterly propping her hands on her hips.

“What’s up, Quin?” Shiela asked, but he ignored her as well.

Layla watched his cold determination and was compelled to shrink away, cower in fear before a side of him she’d never seen. Her stomach and chest felt empty and tight, and her heart pounded in her ears. When he finally reached her, she braced, digging chewed fingernails into rough bark.

She flinched when he reached out, expecting him to yank her from the log. But he didn’t. He merely held out a palm covered in electric burns and quietly spoke. “We’re leaving, Layla.”

Tessa and Shiela gasped; and Liam and Kira looked at their friends in confusion.

Noticing their stares, Shiela quickly mouthed an explanation.
Her name is Layla
.

Realization hit Kira right away, but Liam was slow on the uptake. “So?”

Shiela rolled her eyes and mouthed her clarification.
The
mysterious Layla
.

“Oh, yeah,” Liam hummed, raising his eyebrows. “Interesting.”

Quin acted as though he hadn’t heard a word. Not one thing about his face and posture changed, but his tone sharpened when he repeated his demand. “We’re leaving, Layla. Now.”

Finley rose and stepped forward, and Quin responded, turning to scan the empty air around him.

Shorter and thinner than Quin, Finley was the little guy, but his uniquely muscular build was exacerbated by tension, bolstering his intimidating form. His veins pulsed, and his oceanic eyes churned with frothy waves. “Are you the reason she was sitting alone in the freezing rain when I found her?”

“Easy, Finley,” Liam warned. “I’m not sure you want to be doing that.”

The advice fell on deaf ears, as neither Finley nor Quin acknowledged it.

“I don’t know you,” Quin pointed out.

“I don’t give a shit,” Finley returned.

Quin stared for another moment. Then he looked at Layla and softened his tone. “Let’s go home.”

“She’s just fine right here,” Finley objected.

Quin’s extended hand clenched into a fist as his gaze shifted, and Layla shot to her feet, her line of sight landing between expanded chests. Both wizards looked at her, but only Quin seemed to see her. Finley was pissed and unfocused.

“Who is this guy?” he seethed. “He seems to think he owns you.”

Layla pushed her shoulders back and tilted her chin up. “Thank you for your concern, Finley, but you have no idea what’s going on, so I suggest you stay out of it.” She turned to the others and waved. “It was nice meeting you guys.”

She didn’t expect a response from the gawking group, and sure enough, she didn’t get one, so she sighed and turned to Quin, finding a cloudy moon in his shiny eyes. “Let’s go,” she said, stepping closer.

He threw his cloak around her while sweeping her feet off the ground, and without the slightest hesitation or a solitary goodbye, he shot toward the sky.

Layla stayed nestled in his arms, silent and still, but her head and heart were disasters. He was so angry with her, and she could hardly blame him. She still felt awful about shocking his hand, and now she felt guilty for making him fetch her. But what could she do about it? She still didn’t know how to handle their relationship, and her heart remained bruised from his lack of honesty and understanding. To top it all off, they would be landing soon, and there would undoubtedly be four angry grandparents waiting for them.

Quin cast a layer of magic around Layla as he carried her home, but the precaution was unnecessary. His embrace was desperate enough to secure ten witches. He’d never been so weighed down with regret and felt dreadful from his head to his toes. Of all the places Layla could have gone, she’d stumbled into a gathering of untrustworthy magicians, including a complete stranger with things to hide. And Quin had no one to blame but himself. He should have toughened up and given her the space she asked for, but it was within her that he found his strength, so her request was crippling. Like the air he breathed, she was vital to his existence. How was he supposed to stay away when he’d surely suffocate without her?

They were almost to the community, so he slid one hand to her head and one to her hip, trying to feel enough of her to last him until next time... whenever that may be. He tucked his chin in, moving his cloak aside. Then he breathed deep, filling his lungs with her heavenly scent.
Damn
. He’d messed up the best thing he’d ever gotten his unworthy hands on.

Quin tightened his hold as gravity shifted, and Layla tensed for the barrage of disappointment that would soon fly her way. His muscles fluctuated as he landed. Then he lowered her feet to the grass and flipped his cloak away.

As expected, her grandparents were waiting, and Daleen and Morrigan rushed forward, pulling her into a shared hug. Layla let them, but she kept her eyes on Quin, whose gaze glittered as he turned to her grandfathers.

“I’m very sorry,” he offered, meeting their stares. Then he dropped his head and walked away.

Layla fought hot and heavy tears as she watched his back. She wanted to run to him and apologize for her behavior; tell him he didn’t do anything wrong and ask him to come home with her. She wanted to be back in his arms right now and all night. The urge was so strong, her feet tried to shuffle toward him. Only her grandmothers’ arms kept her in place. She slammed her mouth shut and sucked her lips in, biting them in an effort not to call his name and beg him to come back. Tears reigned victorious, bursting from her lids, and she squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head so she wouldn’t have to watch him disappear.

Her grandmothers passed her to her grandfathers, but she barely noticed. Her heart was too swollen and sore over Quin. She’d only known him for four days, yet she was crushed, absolutely demolished.

By the time her grandparents stepped back to look at her, Layla didn’t have the energy to fear their reprimand. She deserved harsh words and would let them soak in; punish her for her stupidity. Maybe that would ease her broken heart.

“I’m sorry,” she offered, making a pitiful attempt to hide her sorrow. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“No you shouldn’t have,” Serafin agreed, but he didn’t look angry, only relieved.

“Do you have any idea what kind of danger you put yourself in?” Morrigan asked, pleading with bloodshot eyes.

“I shouldn’t have left,” Layla repeated. “It was inconsiderate of me to make you worry. I’ll try not to let it happen again.”

Her grandparents stepped forward, touching her shoulders, face and hair.

“Yes,” Daleen confirmed, “we were so worried about you. But don’t be sorry because you made us worry. Be sorry because you put yourself in danger.”

“How much danger am I going to get into on the beach?” Layla countered.

“More than you think,” Caitrin answered. “We’ll figure this out, Layla. Then you can come and go as you please. No one will tell you how to live your life, but for now, please put your safety first.”

“I understand,” she conceded. “I’m sorry for my immaturity. I’ll try to control my emotions better from now on.”

“Go get some sleep,” Serafin suggested. “This conversation is over. We won’t mention it again, and we don’t want you feeling guilty over it. Just give us some time to make sure you’re safe before leaving by yourself again. Please.”

Layla nodded, but she would feel guilty no matter what anyone said. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.” She turned and headed for her lonely house, but she only made it halfway there before Caitrin called her name.

“Yeah,” she replied, morosely turning back.

“Your magic’s improving quickly,” he noted. “I can barely see your aura.”

“Oh,” she breathed, foolishly looking down. “I didn’t know… forgot I pulled it in.”

“You hide it very well,” he observed.

She shrugged. “Guess that’s a good thing.”

“It can be,” he agreed. “But you’re home now, sweetheart. You don’t have to hide anymore.”

“Oh.” She’d been holding in the haze so long it had become effortless, and the strengthened emotions seemed natural. “Guess I don’t.”

But the aura stayed hidden as she turned and dejectedly shuffled home.

Chapter 20

L
ayla’s swollen eyes and tortured
mind drifted open early Wednesday morning, but she wished they’d stayed closed. Waking up in her new bed without Quin’s arms around her hurt like hell.

She curled into a ball and resumed her crying binge from the night before. She’d cried for hours, soaking her pillow and chafing her throat, and when at last she drifted to sleep, she dreamed about Quin, sweetly, and that hurt like hell, too.

He’d spoiled her. Every morning he’d hugged her tight, kissed her head, and summoned her coffee. Now she was lying alone with
no
coffee. He’d become as much a part of her life as anything surrounding her; now he was gone.

She wanted him back, damn it. Caitlyn be damned, Layla wanted Quin back. In that moment of lonely desperation, she was willing to deal with every crazy witch in the world just to feel his arms around her.

Blah!
He’d made
her
crazy. She had to get a grip. Quin wasn’t there, and she had to deal with that.

She rolled out of bed and headed for the shower, but halfway across the room something out of order caught her eye. She looked at the coffee table, and found the bouquet of flowers Quin made her the day he introduced her to magic. Arranged in a blown glass vase, the multicolored roses and stargazer lily flourished—a little stick man tied to their stalks with a yellow wildflower. Next to the bouquet, emitting a wispy swirl of steam, sat an oversized mug of coffee.

Layla sank to the floor and started bawling again. Quin still touched her, but from a distance now, and she wasn’t okay with that.

After a long moment of blubbering, she literally slapped sense into herself and crawled to the table, getting a whiff of the flowers as she took the cup. Doctored just the way she liked it, the coffee was perfect, but she didn’t sigh her satisfaction. The best coffee in the world lost much of its appeal when Quin wasn’t there to give it to her. Still, she took
one
more sip before setting it down.

In an effort to find a feeling of self-worth or success, Layla spent the day practicing magic. Everything from showering to fixing meals and cleaning up messes was mapped out in her mind before becoming a magical reality. If she needed it, she summoned it. If something needed moved, she swept her hand in that direction. If she needed to move, she floated or flew. While hovering over her deck beneath falling rain, she evoked air, water, earth and fire, and found them equally easy. But no matter what she did, she couldn’t fine one shred of excitement, not one sliver of hope, not one iota of peace.

For two hours she sat at the kitchen table, staring at nothing as she magically picked miniscule bites from a tasteless sandwich. Then she spent an hour sitting on the bathroom vanity, watching the way her body tensed when she pulled her aura in, and the way her expression shifted when her mind changed.

After biting a nail until it bled, she began floating around the house in search of a distraction, which she discovered in the turret room.