The Seahorse Who Loved the Wrong Lynx (14 page)

And what was that? Her mate? Her children? She’d never had any

interest in them, not before Nicolas had showed up. Why now?

As if guessing his thoughts, his mother—no, Bella—laughed

again. “Come on. Move it.”

“I can take her out,”
Layton said through their bond.
“I have my
dad’s power. I could immobilize her.”

Normally, Preston wouldn’t have risked his dad. After all, any

mistake could prove lethal to Nicolas, and Preston had never seen

Layton use his power, not to such an extent, at least. But he trusted his mate, and he knew Layton would not do anything that could be

dangerous for Preston’s dad.

Obviously sensing Preston’s acceptance, Layton attacked. Bella’s

eyes widened, but it was only for a moment, and she didn’t get the

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chance to do anything. Layton’s power crackled through the air,

immobilizing her.

Instantly, Preston rushed to her side and released his father from

her grip. “Dad!” he growled at Nicolas. “Come on, Dad, I know

you’re in there. Wake up.”

A silent tension seemed to slither over Nicolas’s body. For a brief, horrible moment, Preston thought his dad would not reply. But

finally, Nicolas blinked, his expression dazed and pained. “Can’t

move,” he said in a choked murmur. “Magic.”

Sweat beaded his brow, and even those few words appeared to

take a huge effort. Preston knew he could not snap his dad out of

whatever spell had been placed on him just by using words. Clearly, it was only Nicolas’s personal strength that even allowed him to speak.

“We need to find Rhys,” he told Layton. “Maybe he can help.”

Layton nodded, but before they could go through with their plan, a

wave of power surrounded them. A foolish little rhyme reached

Preston’s ears.

“Tick-tock

You’re on the clock.

No sense to pout

There’s no way out.”

It would have been amusing, except it was spoken in a serious

voice that sounded like a strange cross between a child’s voice and an adult’s one. And then there was a song, a hypnotizing song. Preston couldn’t quite make out the words, but he suddenly felt mellow, and

he couldn’t move a muscle.

In front of them, the boy they’d seen earlier appeared, followed by

the strange woman. The woman gave them a strange smile, and

Preston noticed her teeth were very sharp. “Gotcha.”

* * * *

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Life was often an accumulation of events that made little or no

sense. Once upon a time, Skylar had told Layton that even the

smallest decision could affect the course of one’s life and that of other people. He’d given the example of one his friends, Carson. Years

back, when Carson had been a lamb, he’d taken a leap of faith and

mated a wolf, Brody. Later, they’d adopted Angel and Clark, two

good friends of Layton’s. But their choices had changed life for many of their friends, bringing together people who might not have met

without their involvement.

As the group of Sidhe ushered him and Preston into an adjoining

room, Layton wondered what choices had brought them to this point.

It just seemed amazing that they’d suddenly have not only Preston’s

mother ready to attack them, but also a warlock who looked like a

child, a siren, and a group of warrior Sidhe. And where was

everyone? The Pierce mansions were always very well guarded,

something which Layton had learned stemmed from an old attack,

before Layton had even been born. So how had these people gotten

inside so easily? Had they killed his parents? God, he hoped they

weren’t hurt. At least Morgan had gotten away. Layton would never

forgive himself if something happened to his brother.

The room where they were taken was empty. Layton had half

hoped there would be other people around, someone who could tell

them what had happened, but no such luck. In spite of their efforts to fight back, even Preston’s dad, Nicolas, had been taken someplace

else. The guards had also confiscated Layton’s cell phone, leaving them with no way to contact reinforcements.

Preston’s mother and their nemesis had recovered from Layton’s

attack and was currently sitting in front of them, glaring. The warlock child and the siren were also there. Whatever spell the siren had cast was being enforced by her presence. Or perhaps the warlock had done

something as well. Layton had no clue, but he was frustrated because his own power should have been able to fight this.

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He’d been right to fear people with magic. Shape-shifters in

general were wary of magic and mythological creatures. Since

meeting Alexis, Layton himself was more disinclined to judge before

understanding someone, but this particular situation clearly illustrated the reason behind shifter distrust.

For the moment, there was nothing he could do but wait. And

wait, he did. Preston’s mother just eyed them with a sort of angry

satisfaction that Layton couldn’t quite understand while the other two soon lost interest and seemed bored. Were they waiting for someone?

If so, how did that fit with the original idea that Bella Valentino was behind it all?

“I’m not sure she ever truly planned it,”
Preston said through their bond.
“Years back, Nicolas was kidnapped, and she was

involved, but according to my father, she’d been pushed into it. She’s
a follower, not a leader.”

“Then who started this?”
Layton inquired.
“Why?”

Their minds worked furiously as they tried to figure out the

puzzle. It simply made no sense. Whoever was behind it all must be

someone very powerful. Otherwise, these guys would never have just

waited around like this. Any moment now, Layton’s parents would

come back, and then these guys would be in trouble. Even with their

amazing magic, they could not take a furious Byron Cunningham.

And God, would he be furious.

And then the door opened and a familiar blonde walked in.

“Hello, Mr. Cunningham, Mr. Mckenna,” Elder Adele Mercier said.

“What a pleasure to see you.”

Layton wanted to kick himself. Of course. He’d seen her

snobbishness just earlier that day and instinctively sensed that

something darker was hiding under the façade of politeness. Had his

parents been fooled, too, or did they have a plan in place? Honestly, Layton didn’t imagine his parents going along with the Sidhe elder’s plot if they’d known about it.
Fuck.

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She made her way to where Preston and Layton were standing. “I

don’t like shifters. I don’t like demons. And I like shifters who mix with demons even less.” Briefly, Layton wondered what had

happened to Rhys if she disliked him so much. He could not focus on

that, though, not with her so close. Her hand was like a claw when it cupped Layton’s cheek, her fingernails digging into Layton’s flesh.

“But that’s not what it’s all about.”

Layton had no doubt that was the case. A ten-year-old spell meant

that she’d planned this long before Layton had even met Alexis. So

what did that mean?

“You shifters are animals. Your idiocy led the humans to find out

about our existence. You need to be punished, and the Sidhe can do

that, once our magic focuses on you. You will be wiped out like you

deserve.” She chuckled. “You and yours played right into my hands.

With all of your parents’ ideas of peace between races, they’ll turn to war once their precious children are killed.” She laughed. “You know I’d lost hope that you would ever realize it. I had to come up with another plan. Just goes to show you, things always work out for the

best.”

Layton remembered the attack on the academy, when a

skinwalker had pretended to be Alexis to frame him for several

killings. It ended up with an explosion that had burned half of

Alexis’s face and killed the skinwalker. They never had found out

whether the skinwalker had been in involved in a bigger plot or not. It seemed those questions might be answered after all.

In a way, she was right. Magical races begrudged shifters for

revealing the existence of the supernatural to humans. While humans

could not in normal circumstances oppose the Sidhe or any other

species, they were dangerous for isolated individuals. Even if hate crime was illegal, rogue human hunters still made plenty of victims. It was a problem Layton’s father had been struggling against for a while now. Not to mention that Layton’s family had been directly involved

in those events.

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But Layton had never been one to blame himself for someone

else’s actions. He knew that, even without the interference of the

insane shifter who’d changed shapes in the middle of a stadium, the

existence of the paranormal world couldn’t have been kept a secret

from society forever. In fact, whether the Sidhe wanted to accept it or not, many governmental agencies had already been aware of it by the

time the entire thing had happened.

But Elder Mercier was clearly beyond reason. She sighed in faux

distress. “If only you hadn’t discovered who exactly created the spell.

Just the knowledge that it was our kind who enchanted Layton would

have been enough. But no. You had to go and prod at it. Oh, well.

Perhaps it’s better this way. After all, death is always a better

incentive for war.”

Did all evil geniuses like to talk about their evil plan? It reminded Layton about something his father had once told him.
Never delay. If
you’re going to take someone on, do it as quickly as possible. Every
second that passes brings the opportunity that something will go
wrong.
It might have seemed like a strange piece of advice to give one’s son, but it was just the way their world was built. Even Layton’s dad, gentle Skylar, acknowledged it.

What she was saying made sense, in a weird, twisted way. She

wanted war between the races, but she didn’t want her name involved

or herself to be personally at risk. Obviously, she was quite certain of the success of her plan if she’d chosen to come here now. In Layton’s opinion, that was a gross miscalculation.

Whatever Layton had thought, the elder decided they’d had

enough conversation. “Well, enough chatter. Bella, would you like to do the honors?”

A cold chill swept over Layton’s skin. That didn’t sound

promising. No, it didn’t sound promising at all. The female lynx got up and smirked in obvious satisfaction.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

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As she approached them, she passed the elder Sidhe, who petted

her hair. Bella turned toward Adele, giving the Sidhe a besotted look.

On her part, Adele had an indulgent smile, like one would give to a

favorite pet. A pet. That was what Bella Valentino meant to the Sidhe elder. How could Bella not see it?

And yet the female lynx seemed either oblivious or uncaring.

After the brief, wordless exchange, she stood in front of Layton and his mate, smirking. Suddenly, her fingernails were replaced by claws.

She ran one of the sharp claws over Layton’s cheek. Layton

suppressed his fear as she drew blood.

Once upon a time, Layton had not been afraid of dying. Even

when he’d been in the car crash, he’d taken it in stride, too caught up in his emotional mess of a love life to care that the accident might have wiped all that away. Perhaps the Cunningham strength gave him

a sort of fearlessness, the knowledge that he could face whatever

dangers came his way and still come out on top. But since then, many things had happened, and one of the most important ones was that he

was pregnant. He might be able to survive whatever Elder Mercier

and her cronies had planned, but his child could not. And then there was Preston. Clearly, Preston’s mother had it out for her own kids.

Who knew what her insanity would make her do?

Bella’s clawed hand hovered in the air. Layton tried to move, tried

to do anything to stop her. His frantic struggles might have paid off, except he was in a room with three powerful magic users, and he had

a feeling that the spell previously on him made it easier for them to control him.

In his mind, he could hear Preston desperately crying out.

“Layton! Oh, God, lovely!”

Before Layton could move a muscle, the lynx’s hand swooshed

down. Thin trails of fire rushed over Layton’s face as her claw raked over his cheek. He tried to scream, but not even his vocal chords were working. He tried to find refuge in the pain and push his attacker

away, but it was futile.

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Bella then pierced his shoulder with her sharp claws and pushed

him down to the floor. She kicked at him, apparently finding some

perverse satisfaction in torturing him in front of Preston. As she

moved to hit his stomach, a strength he didn’t know he had kicked in.

His bond vibrated with power, and all of a sudden, Layton could

move. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he rolled away from her,

narrowly avoiding the attack. A roar echoed in the room, and Layton

shot to his feet just in time to watch his mate turn into his lynx shape.