Impassion (Mystic) (18 page)

“Oh god,” she breathed, turning her blazing face into his side. If he said a little, it had been a lot, which meant Cordelia knew exactly how much the new girl felt for her son and what kind of feelings they were.

“It’s okay,” Quin insisted, coming to a standstill.

“No,” Layla squeaked, fighting hot tears. “It’s humiliating.” Bursting into sobs on her new family’s lawn wasn’t an option she was willing to accept, so she kept her face buried in his side as she took deep breaths.

Quin turned and wrapped his other arm around her. “Do you want to go inside for a while?”

“No. That would make it worse. I’d never be able to come back out.”

“I’m sorry, Layla. I hate that I made this harder on you.”

“It’s not your fault. You’ve been wonderful, and I don’t regret what we’ve done. I just don’t like that my aura broadcasted it to your mom. I’ll be better in a minute... I hope.” She thought she might have control over the tears, but knew her face remained mortified.

Quin rubbed her back and kissed her head. “Take all the time you need.”

“Is everyone staring at me?”

“Only your grandparents. They’re worried about you.”

“Will you do that mind thing and tell them I’m okay? Tell them I asked you to.”

His lips left her hair, then returned a few seconds later. “They want you to know it’s okay to take a break.”

“No,” she refused. “I’ll just have to deal with the embarrassment. It’s not like the family’s causing it. It’s my problem. A problem I can’t fix or run away from.”

“It will get better,” he assured, “once you get familiar with us and your aura. Eventually, you’ll start accepting your feelings, because you’ll realize we accept them. My mom doesn’t think anything bad about you. She already adores you.”

“How do you know?”

“Her aura. You’re written all over it.”

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“I am saying it to make you feel better, but only because it’s true. She already loves you because you’re Rhosewen’s daughter. Meeting you merely sealed the deal. And it certainly doesn’t hurt your case that I’ve been walking on air for three days.”

“Oh,” Layla breathed, heart and belly fluttering.

“See?” he encouraged. “Accepting how you feel will make things easier. Everyone here is exposed, and we all have feelings we’re ashamed of, but rather than judge each other for what we see, we use the knowledge to support the people we love. Once you get used to living this way, you’ll start to appreciate the intimacy auras provide.”

“I hope so, because this sucks.”

“I can tell. Will you look at me? Your grandparents are the only ones watching.”

After a deep breath, she met his stare, and he took her cheeks in his palms. “You’re beautiful, Layla, inside and out. Not one person here would disagree with that.”

“They probably think I’m an immature fool.”

“No they don’t. We understand you’re not used to your aura. If anything, they’re sorry you’re going through this.”

“I don’t want them feeling sorry for me either.”

“I know you don’t, but it’s part of the deal. When you have this many people who care about you, you have to accept their love as well as their sympathies. If they felt the way you do, would you be able to blow it off?”

“No, and I see your point.”

“Good, because that’s a big part of what you’re getting yourself into. We don’t pull away from each other around here. If we need something, someone’s willing to provide. It’s a wonderful advantage, and it makes a lot more sense to accept it than to push it away.”

“I want to accept it. I don’t know why it’s so hard.”

“Because it’s unfamiliar. Besides never having to deal with your aura, you’ve been alone for three years. It will take more than a few days to adjust to our way of life.”

“I guess.”

“In the meantime,” he added, “try to stop worrying about what we think of you. You’re not on trial, and we’re not a jury. This is your family, and they’re going to love you no matter what your aura looks like.”

“I’ll try,” she agreed. “But my face will stay red.”

“We’ll see,” he replied, tugging on her pout. “Are you ready to meet the rest of them?”

She took a deep breath then gave a nod. “Lead the way.”

He did, and she offered her grandparents a wave to let them know she was okay. They smiled and waved back, but Layla figured they would watch her until they were sure she was comfortable with her surroundings.

“Quinlan,” a woman greeted, and Layla looked forward as Quin released her hand.

Tall and extremely graceful, the approaching woman had long, black hair; an angular face housing mint green eyes; and wide set lips framed by deep dimples.

Layla knew right away she was closely related to Quin. Then her suspicions were confirmed when Quin greeted the woman with a hug. “Hey, Grandma.”

The woman fiercely squeezed his waist. Then she took his biceps and scanned his face. “I haven’t seen you in two days. You look different.”

“I’m taller,” he joked.

“That must be it,” she laughed.

They turned their dimples on Layla, who donned her most polite smile and gave a small wave. “Hi.”

“This is my grandma Rhiannon,” Quin revealed.

“And you, my dear,” Rhiannon said, leaving her grandson behind, “need no introduction.” She took Layla’s shoulders and kissed her forehead. “Welcome home, Layla. It’s so good to finally meet you.”

“You, too,” Layla returned. “You have a lovely family.”

“We sure do. Come meet a few more.”

They approached three women, and Rhiannon introduced her sister-in-law and niece at the same time. Layla shook their hands, admiring their flaming red curls and purple eyes. Then she turned toward the third witch, a woman with cinnamon hair and amber eyes.

“And this is my daughter,” Rhiannon announced. “Karena Mochrie.”

“The owner of the inn,” Layla recalled, reaching for her hand. “Your rooms are amazing.”

“Thank you,” Karena returned. “You’re welcome to stay anytime. It’s a family perk.”

“One of many,” Layla noted.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Rhiannon cut in, “so you better finish up the introductions. We’ll all be good friends soon.”

“I look forward to it,” Layla replied, waving as she took Quin’s hand. Then she was steered in the opposite direction, heading for the only coven members she hadn’t met—one woman and two children.

The woman sat on the ground, along with Banning, Brietta and Skyla; and the kids were on the move, playing between the grownups and a furry pile of animals, which included two golden retriever puppies and a fluffy white lamb.

As Layla and Quin drew nearer, a little girl with strawberry-blond curls ran toward them on teeny yet speedy legs, her steps light and hyper like a pixie. Extremely bright and mostly white, her aura had a few indistinct ribbons of color swimming through a wispy river of love.

“Qwinwin!” she squealed, jumping from several feet away.

Layla’s heart lurched as Quin reached up, grabbing the child by her waist and pulling her to his chest. “That was a good leap,” he praised, calm as ever. “You almost pulled me up there with you.”

Her round cheeks pinched with a grin as her royal purple eyes sparkled. “I’ve been pwacticing.”

“I can tell,” Quin replied. “Pretty soon you’ll out-fly Bann.”

“That’s what Bwietta said.”

Quin laughed then looked at Layla. “This little angel is my cousin—Alana Driscol. She recently turned two. Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Alana confirmed, holding up two tiny fingers. “I tunned two.”

Layla already loved the precious, little girl. It had to be true. That was the only explanation for the rapid swelling of her heart; for the quick shift in emotion that rattled her chest. “Two is a special age,” she noted.

“How ode awe you?” the toddler asked, reaching for Layla’s cheek.

“Twenty-one,” Layla answered.

“Twenty-one is a pwetty age,” Alana offered. “I wike you’we eyes.”

“Thank you. You have pretty eyes, too.”

“They’we puple.”

“Yes. A very pretty shade of purple.”

“So you’we Waywa, huh?”

“Yes I am.”

Alana looked at Quin with raised eyebrows and a proud pucker. “We wuv Waywa.”

“Yes we do,” he confirmed.

“Wiw you stay?” Alana asked.

“I would love to stay,” Layla answered. Then she spared Quin a glance before returning her gaze to Alana. “I’ve never seen such a beautiful baby. She’s adorable.”

“And she knows it,” he replied. “She’s the youngest in the coven, and she and her brother are the only children, so they’re rotten.” He nudged the angelic child with his nose. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Alana confessed. “Spoiwed wottin.”

“No,” Layla breathed. “You’re wonderful.”

In awe of the child, she couldn’t look away, but Alana was more fascinated with Quin’s attention. Taking his cheeks in her little palms, she forced him to meet her stare.

“Can we go fowr a wide in a wittwe whiwe?”

“Sure,” he agreed.

Alana flashed a smug smile at Layla. “Qwinwin’s my favewit to wide with.”

Layla wanted to hold her, but settled for staring at her. “And why is Quinlan your favorite?”

“Because he’s the fastist.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“The funnist!”

Layla laughed as she raised a hand to her expanding heart. “I’d love to see you fly sometime.”

“You can watch when Qwinwin takes me,” Alana offered. Then she kissed one of his dimples. “Otay, put me down.”

Quin kissed her forehead then lowered her feet to the ground, and she skipped after one of Skyla’s birds.

“I’ve never seen anything like her,” Layla whispered, raptly watching her go. “Are all magical babies that smart?”

“Yes,” he answered, “if they’re reaching their potential. We’re blessed with extraordinary concentration and memory.”

“Oh yeah. Well are they all that beautiful?”

Quin laughed as he urged her forward, and she forced her attention to the other child, who was older and rowdier than Alana. He was somersaulting in mid-air—dodging Banning’s grasping hands while trying to catch the bubbles shooting from Brietta’s fingertips—but when he noticed Quin’s approach, he froze mid-flip, upside down. Both of them cocked an eyebrow as their eyes briefly met. Then the boy shot toward Quin like missile.

Quin released Layla’s hand, but not to gently pluck the boy from the air. Instead, he braced himself, grunting as the child slammed into his chest. Without so much as a step backward, Quin laughed and flung the boy over his shoulder. “You almost got me,” he lied, tickling his calves. Then he spun him around and placed his feet on the ground. “This is Brayden—Alana’s older brother. He’s five and full of fire, so watch him.” He ruffled Brayden’s fine, red hair. “This is Layla.”

Acting very mature for a five-year-old, Brayden looked up with bright eyes that were several shades of brown and purple, and cordially stretched out a hand. “Hi, Layla. It’s nice to meet you.”

Layla returned his smile and shook his little hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Brayden.”

As soon as she let go, his maturity melted away, and he maneuvered his head from Quin’s grasp and soared onto his back. Wrapping both arms around his target’s neck, he pulled and squeezed with purpose, but Quin wasn’t fazed.

“You’re getting strong,” he humored him, “but you have a long way to go before you’ll take me down.”

After one more fruitless tug, Brayden flipped to the ground. “I got Bann yesterday.”

Quin laughed as he glanced at Banning, who shrugged as he gave an excuse. “The little squirt caught me off guard.”

“Did not,” Brayden argued. “I’m just getting stronger than you.”

“Is that so?” Banning asked, jumping to his feet and moving away from the witches. “Give it a go then, muscle man.”

He didn’t have to wait long before Brayden shot toward him. Then he pretended to struggle as they wrestled on the ground and in the air.

Layla keenly watched, amused and slightly shocked. Then Quin diverted her attention by nudging her toward a woman with pale yellow eyes and honey hair.

“This is Selena Driscol,” he revealed, “Alana and Brayden’s mom.”

“You have lovely children,” Layla offered, reaching for Selena’s outstretched hand.

“They’re rotten,” Selena countered, “but thank you.”

“Waywa wants to see me fwy,” Alana announced, playing with her mom’s hair.

“She’ll get to see you do more than that,” Selena returned. “She’ll be here for a long time.”

Quin squeezed Layla’s shoulder and motioned to the ground. “Do you want to sit?”

“Sure,” she agreed, seating herself next to Alana, who abandoned her mom’s hair to play with Layla’s.

“I wike youw haiwr,” she said. “It’s curwy wike mine.”

“Your curls are beautiful,” Layla replied, watching the ringlets reflect the sun. She wanted to take Alana in her arms and cover her in sweet kisses, but she somehow refrained from smothering a child she barely knew.

“I wish it was wong wike youwrs,” Alana added.

“It will be someday,” Layla assured.

“That’s what mommy says,” Alana pouted. “I asked if I could use magic on it, but she said I’d apweciate it more if I gwow it.”

“That makes sense,” Layla approved. “If you want long hair, someday you’ll have it, and it will be natural and beautiful, something you can take pride in.”

“Natuwal and beautiful,” Alana repeated. Then she turned her attention to the curl she held, watching it as though it were deeply interesting.

“What do you think about your magic, Layla?” Brietta asked.

“I think it’s wonderful,” Layla answered, still staring at the toddler, “but there’s a lot I don’t know.”

“Sure,” Brietta conceded, “but we can help with that. I’d love to watch you learn. Your situation fascinates me—to grow up hexless when you’re one of the most powerful magicians in the world, maybe even
the
most powerful.” She paused and shook her head. “It’s going to be crazy. You’ll be learning some wild stuff really quickly. Who knows what that’s like?”

Layla cheeks burned as insecurities crept in, threatening to suffocate the comfort she’d found in the children. Quin took her hand, giving it a squeeze, and she smiled at him before finding Brietta. “I don’t know what it’s going to be like either, Bri. I’m sure I’ll be as amazed as anyone.”