Impassion (Mystic) (3 page)

“He did very well,” Layla whispered, closing the curtains on tears.

Her chest shuddered over a shaky breath as she fought to maintain control, but her defenses shattered when Quin vanished her cup and pulled her into a hug.

“It’s okay to cry,” he assured, and that’s exactly what she did, all over the spotless, white cotton spanning his sturdy shoulder.

“I’m afraid it will never get easier,” she confided, “to think about what they went through... what they did for me, and for each other.”

“Time will help,” he encouraged. “It will shadow the bad memories and let the wonderful things you saw shine through.”

“The good memories make me cry, too.”

“The heart can be cruel in that aspect, but we’d be lost souls without the ability to love so deeply it hurts. You probably saw a few of those souls in the imprint. We’re far better off; even with the ache love sometimes lays on us.”

His words were comforting, but it was his touch that calmed her lungs and soothed her heart.

She turned her head, finding his neck with the tip of her nose, and her lips twitched as his scent rushed her senses. Though her eyelashes remained moist, the tears had stopped, and she owed it to the man sheathing her in consoling warmth. He was good at pulling her out of the dark, succeeding where so many had failed since Katherine’s stroke.

“I feel like you’re the only person who knows me now,” she confessed.

One of his hands slid up her back, navigating through curls to lift her cheek from his shoulder. “I want to know you better. Will you let me?”

She struggled to breathe as she flipped her gaze between his eyes and mouth. They were seductive and hypnotic and mere inches away, tugging on her like a magnet. “Yes.”

His eyes twinkled as he leaned in, barely touching his lips to hers, and she clutched his t-shirt as her heart stuttered. Her reaction amused him, pulling the corners of his mouth toward chiseled cheeks, but it didn’t stop him from pressing closer.

His fingers flexed in her hair as his tongue parted her lips, and she closed her eyes, surrendering to a sea of satiny flesh. When their mouths stilled, they both shivered and sighed, feeling like they’d rediscovered something lost.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you a dozen times this morning,” he revealed. “It’s been difficult to refrain.”

“Don’t,” she whispered.

“Don’t what?” he returned.

She took his wrists, pulling his hands from her cheeks to her hips. Then she slid her palms to his hard biceps. “Refrain from kissing me.”

Shocked by how aware she was of her body, his body, and the bed beneath them, she squirmed, unfamiliar with the heat searing her inner thighs. No way was she ready to have sex with him. She’d known him less than three days. But her hormones must have missed the memo, because body parts that had never pulsed before pulsed now, humidifying her panties.

Quin must have sensed her unease, because he pulled one of his hands from her hip and took her hot cheek. “If I don’t refrain, we’ll never get anything done.”

This did nothing to stifle Layla’s desire, but it did ease her embarrassment. “Are you on a schedule?” she challenged.

His aura pulsed, brightening gorgeous features set with deep dimples. “Nuh-uh,” he answered, taking her by the waist. Then he pulled her to his lips for a much longer kiss.

Chapter 2

B
ody pulsing, Quin struggled to
keep his kiss slow and his hands idle. Tingles slid from his lips to his toes, arousing every inch along the way, but he quelled his cravings, using willpower and magic to redirect blood flow.

Taking a calming breath, he slowly backed away and touched Layla’s swollen pucker. “That was a very good kiss.”

Her lips pulsed and curved beneath his fingertip, but her gaze shifted away, landing on the air around him.

“What’s that mean?” she asked.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” he returned. “I can’t see it.”

“Oh yeah. I mean the way it’s moving. It’s flowing really fast.”

Quin filled his lungs as he glanced at her aura. Then he met her stare. “It means I’m stimulated.”

“Oh,” she breathed, eyes widening. “Is mine doing that?”

“Yes, and it’s beautiful.”

She quickly dropped her gaze, face flushing bright red.

“Why does that embarrass you?” he asked.

“Because I don’t live like this,” she answered. “I’m not used to having everything I feel laid out for everybody to see.”

“I can imagine that’s overwhelming, but there isn’t anything in your aura to be ashamed of, and you don’t have to be embarrassed around me, because I am used to it.”

“Don’t you get tired of it? Having your emotions analyzed by others without your permission?”

“Sometimes auras are inconvenient, but they’re too useful and beautiful to regret.”

She slowly raised her gaze to the air around him. “They are beautiful.”

“Yes.” He was watching hers and had to shake his dumb expression away. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes. Can you see that in my aura?”

“No, but I’m hungry.”

Layla glanced at the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the curtains. “What time is it?”

“Two in the afternoon.”

“Really? How long did I sleep?”

“A solid eight hours.”

She carefully looked him over. “Did you sleep?”

“Quite peacefully,” he assured.

“Good,” she approved. “How long did the memories take?”

“About three hours.”

“It felt like months.”

“I’m sure.”

“You stayed the whole time?”

“Yes.”

“Did I do anything weird? Like talk or move around?”

Quin watched her blush, appreciating the color, but wondering if her embarrassment would ever subside. “No. You didn’t say anything, and you barely moved.”

“Bet that was boring,” she replied, wrinkling her nose.

“Right,” he laughed, holding out his hands, and their refilled coffee mugs appeared.

She beamed and accepted the cup with cream. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Breakfast will be ready soon.”

“Who’s making it?”

“Cinnia.”

“Did you do that mind searching thing again?”

“Yes. Would you like to share an apple while we wait?”

“Sure.”

A large, pink apple appeared on his shoulder then rolled down the outside of his arm into his hand. The fruit split away from the core and peel into eight even pieces. Then it floated into the air while the inedible parts disappeared.

“Have one,” he suggested, taking one for himself.

Layla smiled as she pulled a piece of apple from mid-air. “That was fancy. Do you do everything with flair?”

“No, but sometimes it’s fun to play with your food.”

She laughed as she took a bite, and he watched her chew, noting she was far less insecure about it than with their last meal.

After swallowing, she licked her fingers clean and flashed a mischievous smile. Her gaze turned toward the floating apple, narrowing in concentration, and one wedge of fruit flew away from the others, flipping several times before spiraling toward her mouth.

She opened up then grinned as she chewed. “You’re right. It is fun to play with your food.”

“That was impressive,” he commended.

“Yeah right,” she smirked.

“I’m serious. You just found out about magic yesterday, and you’re already performing it with ease.”

Her smile slipped away. “Doesn’t that make sense? I mean, that’s what all this is about, isn’t it? Me being some sort of super witch? That’s why my parents had to...” She stopped talking and grabbed another slice of apple, nibbling as she stared at nothing.

“Yes,” Quin confirmed, “you’re an extremely special witch, but it’s not your fault things turned out the way they did.”

“I know it’s not my fault, but it’s a result of me.”

He took her chin and lifted her gaze. “Now that you’ve seen their memories, you know how much your parents loved you. They wouldn’t go back and change the fact that you were conceived for anything. They would change the way things ended for them, but you, they’d keep.”

“I know,” she whispered. “They loved like they breathed. And not just me—each other, even before they bonded. They were hooked the moment they met.”

“Some would call that fate.”

“Or a disaster waiting to happen.”

He shook his head. “Do you think Aedan and Rhosewen would have given up one second of their time together in order to live a longer life?”

“No, I really don’t.”

“Me neither. Some things are worth dying for. Love is one of them, and you’re another.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“I’m not the only person who feels that way,” he added. “This entire coven would lay down their lives for you.”

“I would never want them to.”

“I know, but we’re protective of our family.”

“I saw how wonderful they are in the memories,” she recalled. Then her face and aura brightened. “I saw you as a baby.”

“Yeah?” he asked, grabbing a piece of fruit.

“Yes, you and your parents, on my mom and dad’s wedding day. How long did you have to stay in Alaska?”

“We came back about a year after Aedan’s death.”

“I’m sorry your family had to leave. That must have been hard on them.”

“We stayed with my mom’s family, so it’s not like we were lonely, and my parents are happy wherever they are as long as they’re together.” He waved a hand, vanishing the remaining pieces of apple. “Breakfast is in the kitchen.”

“Oh. Okay. So is it true I’m unlike anyone else?”

Quin waited for her to scoot off the bed. Then he took her hand and led her down the hallway and through the living room. “As far as we know there isn’t another like you, but there might be and we just don’t know about it. It’s not something one would shout to the world if they know what’s good for them. Not with people like Agro around.”

“So what does it mean?”

“Which part?”

“Well, I know bonded children are magically stronger, but what’s the difference between them and me?”

“Our coven has speculated about that for more than twenty-one years, but we have no way of knowing what to expect. Odds are you’re substantially more adept than other bonded children.”

“Is that what I’m called? A bonded child?”

“We’ve referred to you as a twice bonded child before, but there isn’t a title for what you are.”

He opened a swinging door, and she entered a spacious kitchen furnished with brand new, high-end appliances. The shiny counters and gadgets formed a horseshoe to her right, and to her left, illuminated by half a dozen, westward windows, stood a long, wooden table set for breakfast.

Quin pulled out a chair, and Layla took a seat in front of a plate of pancakes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he returned, taking the chair across from her.

She began eating, seemingly lost in thought, so Quin stayed quiet through his meal, trying not to stare too much.

Halfway into her pancakes, she set her fork down, drained her milk then got to her feet. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“There’s one off the hallway, one in the master bedroom, and another upstairs. Your grandma stocked the one in the master bedroom for you.”

“There are three?”

“Yes.” He stood and vanished their mess. “Would you like me to show them to you?”

“No. I’ll just use the one in the bedroom.”

“Okay,” he agreed, taking her hand. “I’ll use the one off the hall.”

When they reached the first door in the hallway, he released her hand and walked to the second. He smiled and winked before disappearing through it, and Layla’s heart fluttered as she entered the bedroom.

Opposite of the bed were two closed doors, and Layla couldn’t remember which one led to the bathroom. She tried the one on the left and ended up in a huge walk-in closet full of clothes. She wanted to look around, but needed the other door worse.

When she entered the bathroom, she halted and clutched the doorjamb, vividly picturing Rhosewen standing naked in front of the mirror. This was where she found out she was pregnant. This was where the pain began.

Layla’s chest tightened as tears stung her eyes, and she had to force her jelly legs inside. She quickly closed the door and leaned against it. Then she took a shaky breath and scurried across smooth marble.

After answering nature’s call, she walked to the vanity and washed her hands. As she looked in the mirror, she couldn’t help but visualize her mom staring back at her, and a sob burst from her chest. Heart twisting, she cringed and leaned on the vanity, rinsing her hands while trying to stem the tears, but more spilled with each shuddering breath.

“Oh god.” How was she supposed to live in a house full of memories that make her bawl? A house teeming with ghostly impressions she’d experienced firsthand. She could feel Rhosewen’s curse kicking in, pain shooting through her shins and spine, and yet, this intimate moment with her mom was invaluable, one of only a few Layla knew.

A soft knock on the door jolted her upright, and she scrambled for a tissue as Quin’s voice floated into the bathroom. “Layla?”

“I’m fine,” she replied, but her voice cracked, giving her away.

She wiped her face as she turned off the water. Then she tried to smooth her hair as she walked to the door. The moment she opened it, Quin pulled her into a hug.

“I’m okay,” she assured. “I just... I just...”

“You don’t have to explain, Layla. I know it must be hard to look around this house after what you’ve seen.”

“I don’t know if it will ever get better.”

“I think it will.”

“I hope so.” She took a deep breath and made sure her face was dry. “I’m okay now. It just came out of nowhere. One second I had control; the next it broke.”

He leaned back and found her eyes. “That’s okay, you know?”

“It’s going to have to be. I have no choice.”

“That’s not true. You don’t have to be here.”

“What else would I do? Return to Oklahoma like the average girl next door?”

“I beg that you don’t, but we could leave for a while if you’d like. Go to the beach or something.”

Layla was tempted, but she’d buried her head in the sand long enough. People were waiting for her to pull it together, and she already felt guilty for making them wait so long. “That wouldn’t be fair to my grandparents.”

“They’ll wait,” he assured.

“No,” she refused. “They’ve waited long enough. Did they even sleep last night?”

“They got some rest when you did.”

“Good,” she approved, speculating about the reunion. “I’m kind of scared to meet them. I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“Stop analyzing yourself,” he suggested, “and just do what comes natural. Emotions will be running thick when you meet, and everyone in the room will have to deal with them.”

“They’ll drown in mine,” she mumbled. “But I guess it’s time to stop being a wuss and meet the family who’s sacrificed so much for me.”

“I wish you wouldn’t feel that way. The sacrifices your grandparents made are the last things on their minds right now.”