Impassion (Mystic) (31 page)

Chapter 22

C
old air rushed over Layla’s
fingertips and toes, but it didn’t penetrate her cloak, and the contrasting temperatures sparked refreshing tingles.

“I’m going to lean forward,” Quin warned.

“Mmkay,” she murmured, nuzzling under the collar of his cloak. Only when she touched her lips to him, finding proof of his presence in the air slipping over her tongue, did she feel secure.

Gravity pulled on her backside as he leaned against her, so she used magic to stay afloat.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she answered.

“I’m going to loosen my grip,” he added, “to give you some breathing room, but I won’t be letting go, so don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.”

Cold air parted around them as Quin flew forward, gradually gaining speed while loosening his hold. He looked up, stretching his throat over her lips, and she grinned as she slid her mouth to the other side of his neck.

“I’m thinking this is the only way to fly,” he mumbled.

She giggled and dipped her kisses lower, parting her lips as she gripped his sides and lifted herself into him.

“Yes,” he decided, “this is definitely the best way to fly.”

Keeping her eyes closed, Layla used her sense of touch to explore him, and after a while she forgot they were invisible.

Gravity eventually shifted, tugging on her feet, and she knew he’d flipped upright. When his muscles flexed, she thought he’d landed and expected him to lower her feet to the ground. What she did not expect was the way he swiftly tilted her back, scattering her equilibrium.

She fell away from his neck, landing in his hands as his magic swelled around her. Then his palms slid to her butt, pulling her against him as his tongue parted her lips and stole her breath.

Layla jolted as heat shot from her chest to her groin, veins pulsing against his brazen arousal, which throbbed through a pair of shorts, two cloaks, and a dress to fill the feminine V between her legs. His lips trailed down her chin as the magic holding her head softened, opening her throat to him. Then he covered it in hot kisses while pressing his arousal further between her thighs.

Her panties moistened and shifted under the pressure, and her toes pointed as her legs shook. She was so worked up, he could have taken her right there in the middle of… wherever they were, and she would have thanked him for it, but she knew better. Time and again he’d proven himself adept at denying his urges, so she was only teasing herself. Still, she rubbed against him a few more times before going limp.

His lips returned to hers, curving with a grin as he softly kissed. Then he hugged her to his chest and flipped upright.

Layla released her concealment spells as their feet touched earth. Then she rested her forehead to his thumping chest, making a noble effort to steady her breathing and heart rate. When she licked his lingering flavor from her lips, a surge of blazing blood rush to tender areas, and her recovering lungs took another hit.

“Mmm...” she purred. “That was fun.”

“Definitely the best trip I’ve ever made. Close your eyes.”

“They have been the whole time.”

“Good. Keep them closed.”

Cold air rushed over Layla’s back as her cloak disappeared. Then the temperature dropped further when he stepped away.

After a few chilly seconds, he spoke. “That dress looks great on you. It makes me want to magic it away.”

Layla smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Are you making me keep my eyes closed just so you can look at me?”

“No, but I had to take advantage. I’m only human.”

“Only,” she mumbled, smile stretching. Then his lips were on hers, softly kissing as his hands warmed her arms.

“We’re going to walk,” he warned, wrapping one arm around her shoulders.

He slowly compelled her forward, and Layla turned blind senses to her surroundings. The earth was uneven, with moss, trees trunks and brush; and the wind whispered through foliage as ocean waves crashed and distant thunder rumbled. He’d brought her to the beach, she guessed. She’d soon feel sand beneath her feet.

Instead he led her onto smooth stone, and she whipped her head up, suddenly dying to know where they were. He laughed, apparently amused by her confusion, and she wrinkled her nose, still trying to guess their location.

He eventually halted then moved behind her, covering her shoulders with his palms as he whispered in her ear. “When I tell you to open your eyes, don’t be frightened by what you see.”

“Okay,” she agreed, getting a strong whiff of salty air. “Are you about to push me in the ocean?”

“Never,” he assured, moving her hair aside. “You can look.”

He kissed the nape of her neck as she opened her eyes and gasped in the view. They stood on the edge of a tall cliff, with the black ocean glittering below, a storm brewing on the horizon, and a silver moon dangling high in the sky.

Layla instantly recognized the scene, but it took a few seconds of wonderment to figure out why. “I had a dream about this place!”

His lips left her neck as he straightened. “You did?”

“Yes, the night I turned twenty-one. I was standing just like this.” She paused as a blush heated her cheeks. “Only… I didn’t have any clothes on and no one else was there, but everything else was the same.”

“Sounds like a good dream,” he murmured, lowering his mouth.

Lightning illuminated distant clouds as the tip of his tongue slipped over the nape of her neck, and goose bumps consumed tingling flesh. “It felt the same, too,” she recalled, “like I was charged.”

“Are you cold?”

“No. It feels great.” Her hot blood contradicted the cold wind, spiking her adrenaline.

Quin slid his kisses to her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” she corrected. “I can’t believe I’m here. I was so disappointed when I woke up from that dream. I remember thinking I could walk off the cliff and fly to the moon, and I felt no fear of testing the theory, but I woke up too soon.”

“Hmm... I bet you’re a natural soothsayer.”

“A what?”

“A soothsayer, someone who communes with ethereal energy to foresee the future.”

“There was something about that in my parents’ memories,” she mumbled. Then she remembered. “It didn’t work. The soothsayers couldn’t help them.”

“Even the best soothsayers can’t guarantee their predictions,” Quin explained. “The magic is fairly easy, but the results are unpredictable and often flawed.”

“Easy?” she repeated. “Yeah right.”

“I’m serious. Most of us can summon hazy premonitions if we devote ourselves to the task, and some omens have a habit of hitting anyone in their path.”

“Then why are we having such a hard time tracking down the Unforgivables?”

“Your grandparents have tried to summon useful visions, but there are several people involved, and a lot of decisions that need to be made. Furthermore, there are ways magicians can block their intentions from those who seek them, including the ethereal souls who guide our visions.”

“Ethereal souls? Like dead people?”

“You could say that,” he answered, smiling at her doubt.

Layla felt the conversation diving deeper than she wanted to go, so she leaned into him and smiled at the moon. “This is wonderful, Quin. Thank you for making my dream come true.”

“My pleasure.” He kissed her cheek then straightened and moved to her side. “Would you like to play with magic? Take a few shots of post-power euphoria?”

“Yes,” she agreed, body tingling more intensely. “What kind of magic would you like to see?”

“Let’s work on your elemental magic, see if any of them suit you better than the others. Are you cold?”

“Yeah, but it feels great. How should I start?”

“How about I start, and you try to match me?”

She tore her eyes from the moon and smiled at him. “Are you turning this into a contest?”

“No. You’d beat me at my own game. If not tonight, soon enough. I just thought I’d give you a better idea of what to try.”

“Oh. Good thinking. You go first.”

He laughed as he lifted a palm toward the sky, and the wind picked up, tickling Layla’s scalp.

“You’re starting off easy,” she accused, raising a palm, and the wind blew harder, whipping her curls into tangles.

Quin smirked as he pointed toward the distant storm, and a flash of lightning cut through the air, striking much closer than the other bolts.

Layla’s mouth fell open as her hair follicles bristled. “I didn’t know we could do that.”

“We can summon storms out of nothing if we want, but our coven doesn’t. We try not to make large impacts on earth’s natural progression, and the only place we make small impacts is within our community, with Alula’s blessing of course.”

“Alula?”

“The goddess of flora…”

Layla held up a palm, signaling him to stop. “Not right now.”

He zipped his smiling lips, and she pointed toward the flashing storm clouds, pulling three bolts of lightning closer to the cliff. They simultaneously struck sea and sky, provoking a loud clash of thunder that rumbled the ground, and Quin laughed as he shook his head.

“You’re already showing me up.”

“You could have done that,” she countered. “You’re just taking it easy on me.”

“Then I’ll have to upgrade my spells.”

He waved a hand around his head, but nothing happened, and for several seconds Layla watched their surroundings in confusion. Right as she was about to comment on the lack of magic, small white blooms danced in on summoned wind, creating a cyclone around her and Quin.

“Pretty,” she commended, spinning in a circle.

She came to a halt and took his hand, recalling the tenacious wildflower every walk through Oregon’s forests had yielded. It was the same species of flora Quin’s stick man picked to prove magic does exist. Layla knew there had to be a slew of them nearby, so she waved a hand then waited, hoping the magic would work.

Several anticipatory seconds later, a barrage of yellow, red and blue petals floated from the timber, joining the white blooms to create a colorful tornado. Layla snatched a blue petal from the air. Then she transformed it into an entire flower and handed it to Quin, unable to stifle her pride.

“Show off,” he teased, turning the single flower into an entire bouquet before handing it back.

“You’re one to talk,” she laughed, fiddling with soft petals. “So what are the rules about making something that doesn’t already exist? I’ve seen you create flowers, yet you carry dishes in your bag.”

“That’s a good question,” he replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Give me a second to figure out the best way to answer.”

Layla played with her flowers as she waited, happily tucked into his warm side.

“Okay,” he began, “I’ll try to keep it short, but I should start by telling you there aren’t any laws in the magical world, because there isn’t a system to enforce them. Obviously the hexless lack laws pertaining to magic, and even if they did have rules applicable to our lifestyles, they would have no hope of enforcing them. As for magicians upholding magical law, it’s a bad idea. We would destroy more lives than we would save if we tried to govern one another. Imagine giving magical ability to all the elected officials in the hexless world, both corrupt and honorable, and you’ll understand why. If we let other people rule over us with a magical fist, corruption will inevitably follow, and it would turn into a mess that would affect everyone. So, if I want to create a plate, I can, and nobody has a legal right to stop me. But our family has guidelines we choose to live by, and creating objects that don’t harmonize with nature is a power we avoid, because once you create something, it’s here to stay. We can transfer it somewhere else, or we can alter it, but we can’t undo it. The things we vanish go somewhere, and it’s our responsibility to make sure they go somewhere appropriate. Therefore, our family only creates objects that can be discarded in an environmentally sound way.” He paused, grinning as he raised his eyebrows. “We wouldn’t want to anger Alula.”

“Right,” Layla smirked, “Alula. So the rule is there are no rules?”

“That makes it sound like anarchy, but yeah, basically.”

“But if magicians can do whatever they want and get away with it, how is it not anarchy?”

“Because most of us are peaceful, and even more of us are grateful for what we have and respectful of other peoples’ space and ideals. Even covens with less than admirable traits tend to steer clear of those who don’t share their beliefs. Magicians have it easy when it comes to everyday living. Our powers bless us beyond belief, creating calm and satisfied lifestyles. We don’t need more, but we won’t yield what we have, so we’re quick to protect ourselves and our neighbors, and we guard our right to live in peace with a fierceness no lawman or judicial system can match. Because of that, Agro and his dogs are the minority, and if we value this world, we must keep it that way.”

Layla contemplated this for several seconds, thinking about how much the moment she was in contrasted with the world Agro was in. A huge part of her wished she could remain swept away with Quin, ignoring the rest of the world and all its problems, but she didn’t think her bleeding heart would ever allow such a reprieve, so she vowed to embrace the relief Quin provided like it was her last dose.

She smiled at him then tossed the wildflowers into the air. As the bouquet broke apart, the flowers transformed into bright blue butterflies.

Layla watched them with wide eyes, proud and amazed, and Quin watched them with his mouth hanging open. He reached out, compelling a butterfly to perch on his palm. Then he pulled it close for an examination.

“Amazing,” he breathed, looking at Layla. “How did you do that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know the anatomy of a butterfly?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I like them. I did a biology report my sophomore year for extra credit. So that was okay? Creating them?”

“That was fantastic,” he commended, sending the butterfly to play. “There’s a long standing debate on the morality of it, but if done right, I see no harm in creating a creature that wouldn’t otherwise get the chance to live. It’s extremely difficult, though. Not only does it require advanced magic, it requires advanced brains and uncommon knowledge. Amazing,” he repeated, shaking his head.

“Do you think they’ll die?” she asked, suddenly questioning her morality.

“Of course they’ll die,” he answered, “but whether it’s sooner or later, they lived longer than they would have without you.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“They’re beautiful,” he soothed, kissing her cheek, “and the world is a better place with them in it.”

He turned back to the ocean, and the flowers and butterflies drifted away. “Apparently you have no problem with earth and air. Would you like to play with the water now?”

“Yes,” she answered, following his gaze to the ocean. The cliff rose at least a hundred feet above waves, and she stared over the edge, wondering what possibilities lay in wait with a sea at their disposal.

A large swell crashed against the rock below, but instead of receding, it rushed up the cliff face and softly splashed over the ledge, misting them with freezing water.

“That’s crazy,” she exclaimed, scooting closer to the edge. “I want to try.”