Retribution (34 page)

Quin closed the distance between them and picked her up. “I agree, but it's not invincible. A powerful spell could shatter it.”

“Oh. Well it's better than nothing.”

He smiled as he searched her face, finding contentment in her happiness – a miracle considering the stress they were under. “Are you ready to go home, my love?”

She grinned and gave a nod. “More than ready.”

“Tuck in,” he instructed. “I'm going to let the guards know how to get through our shield. Then we'll be on our way.”

She sighed and moved her face to his neck. “Perfect.”

The lawn remained active when Quin and Layla landed, so they stayed outside for a short visit and dinner, but as soon as Layla finished eating a couple of chocolate chip cookies, Quin ushered her inside.

She was still checking for crumbs when he closed the front door and swept her off her feet.

“Breakfast at seven, huh?” she asked, trying not to look too disgruntled.

He vanished their cloaks as he carried her down the hall. “Yeah, and it’s already eleven. I rushed you home for a reason.”

Her mood lightened as she raised her eyebrows. “So we can take the ride we missed last night?”

He halted in the middle of the bedroom and lowered her feet to the floor. “Yes.”
 

Her smile widened as she vanished his shorts. Then she looked at her dress, intent on getting it out of the way as well.

“Wait,” he interrupted, lifting her chin.

Her eyebrows drew together as her cheeks flamed, and he laughed while lowering his mouth to her throat. “Why are you blushing, Layla?”

“Why are you telling me to keep my clothes on?”

He laughed again, slipping aside lace so he could kiss her shoulder. “You don’t think I want to see your naked body?”

“Well, I thought you did. Then you went and told me to keep my clothes on.”

He stepped behind her and swept her hair out of the way, kissing the nape of her neck as he unclasped her necklace. “I never said that.”

She started to argue then paused. “I guess you didn't. You told me to wait.”

“Yes,” he confirmed, sending her jewelry to the dresser.

“Why?” she asked.

His fingers followed the dip between her shoulder blade, nimbly pulling buttons from their loops. Then he brought her hair behind her and slid her other sleeve aside, showering that shoulder in kisses too. “Because I want to do it.”

“Oh,” she breathed.

He moved his lips to her ear, softly nibbling before whispering into it. “I've been undressing you for almost two weeks now, and I have yet to take my time and appreciate the process.”

“I see,” she mumbled, inert save for the shivers running down her neck and chest.

Every time he showed her something new, no matter how big or small, she felt flutters in her belly, warmth in her heart, and her muscles would freeze as her brain sped, wondering what was coming next. It was the same feeling she got when she first met him, the same sensations she experienced the first time he kissed her. She got them all the time really, so one would think she’d get used to them, but it was like the first time every time.

He moved in front of her and smiled, the same kind of smile he gave her when they met. Then he tucked his fingers into her neckline, taking hold of the material loosely covering her chest. “Physically undressing you is a pleasure I haven't had the good sense to pay heed to, and I’d hate to miss out on it completely.”

He pulled down, and her breasts spilled free, a feeling she was learning to love. His palms cupped their weight, his thumbs toying with her nipples until they were hard, and his chest expanded with a deep breath.

Licking his lips, he found her eyes. “You make my mouth water, Layla. You know that, right?”

She shook her head no, but she didn't speak. She couldn't. She was fighting the sudden urge to throw herself into him, to press her chest to his. A moment before she'd been frozen. Now she struggled to hold still and let him take his time. And she was rewarded for her patience, basking in his adoration while bursting with love for him. She could never begin to describe the way he made her feel about herself; and when he looked at her, touched her, and spoke about her like she was a heavenly gift, she could feel her love for him grow. It made the butterflies in her stomach turn flips. It made her heart lighter than air as it thumped harder than ever. It weakened her knees, sent chills up her spine, quivered her lips, and tightened her throat. All while her desire for him spread heat through her veins and pulsed tender areas.

“Well you do,” he insisted, pulling her bodice to her waist. Then his hands traveled her exposed curves, as if memorizing her proportions. “Before you, I wouldn't have been able to envision a body this beautiful no matter how long I thought about it or how creative I got. For years I fantasized about the way you’d look, a
lot
, and my mind came up with dozens of exceptionally beautiful women, but none of my dream girls could turn me on half as much as you do.” He tilted her chin up and gave her a soft kiss. Then he knelt, pulling her dress over her hips and letting it fall to the floor. “And it's been that way since I met you…” His gaze roamed from her feet to her face. “…two weeks ago tonight.” Dipping his fingers into the top hem of her panties, he pulled them down while moving his mouth to her hip, but his hungry eyes stayed on hers. “I’ve never wanted anything like I want you.”

She trembled, trying not to become a puddle on the floor as her head and heart screamed
take me!

His kisses trailed down the crease of her thigh, and two of his fingers dipped between her legs, coming out slick with moisture. Gripping her backside with his free hand, he sucked her essence from his fingers. Then he looked up and flashed a smile. “You taste incredible.”

Her lungs emptied as her knees gave out, but he caught her in a summoning spell and hovered her feet from the floor. Laying her back in mid-air, he opened her flimsy legs. Then he pulled her to his mouth and began to feast.

His fingers opened her up to him, emitting magical vibrations that seeped into all the right places, and she arched back, letting out the scream that had been building in her diaphragm from the moment he began undressing her. He had her legs over his shoulders and his magic beneath her, keeping her safely elevated, and while the freedom somehow strengthened the sensations, she was out of control with no way to hold herself together.

She gripped her own breasts, desperate to clutch something,
anything
, as she jolted in mid-air. Then her muscles grew rigid as her fingers and toes flexed. She stretched back, giving free rein to whatever was sure to burst from her chest, and the result was a carnal yell that wasn’t very pretty, but it seemed to please him, like she’d just put the whipped cream on his sundae.

Her spasms eventually ceased, and his fingers stopped vibrating, but he continued to kiss and lick moist and swollen flesh. When her hands fell from her chest, his incredible tongue trailed up her stomach then flicked one of her nipples.

“You make my mouth water, Layla,” he repeated, moving to her other breast. “You know that, right?”

She tried to answer him, but in her thunderstruck state, she merely squeaked.

That wasn’t what Quin wanted to hear, and he raised his head, watching her face as he carried her to the bed. Laying her on her back, he moved between her legs. Then he pulled her knees to his waist as he licked her lips. “Have I shown you, love? Have I proven how much I crave you?”

Her aura thickened and flared, exploding with shiny, dark-brown ribbons and vibrant swirls of dazzling pink, and her bonded light practically solidified, glittering as if set with millions of tiny diamonds.
 

Quin's mouth fell open as he stared at the lustrous air bathing him in warmth, and a tear slid down Layla's temple. She quickly brushed it away, but another followed, and he caught her hand before she could get rid of it.

Moving his own fingertip to the teardrop, he pulled it from her temple. Then he transformed it into a rose petal – brown and green like those that bloomed at her parents' memorial. Placing the petal in her hand, he closed her fingers around it. Then he leaned through the magnificent lights and brushed his lips across hers. “I couldn’t have hoped for a more beautiful answer. Thank you.”

She dropped her petal and moved her hands to his cheeks, grasping them like her life depended on it. “I love you so much, Quin.”

Sliding one arm under her back, he braced her while easing into her body. Then he tilted her head to the side, whispering in her ear as he slowly worked her up. “The word love doesn’t do us justice, angel.”

No, what they had betrayed the boundaries of human language and couldn’t be described, only felt… and it felt amazing.

Chapter 23

Guthrie watched Agro’s newest victim crumple to the floor of the tent, a mere bag of bones wrapped in crimson velvet.

“Is it so hard to remain inconspicuous?” Agro raged. “You’re magicians for fuck’s sake.”

Taking the dead man by the collar, Guthrie dragged him outside while Agro questioned the rest of the soldiers tasked with spying on the Conn/Kavanagh businesses. Guthrie had already talked to them and knew they hadn’t heard anything useful. Most of the shops were closed, and even if they were open, the soldiers couldn’t get close enough to hear a damn thing.

“Multiple magicians guarded the entrances,” one soldier said of the inn.

“Four tending one counter,” another said of the café. “I could feel their eyes on me the moment I stepped on the deck.”

“And the bookstore?”

“Closed.”

One soldier dared to enter an establishment and was immediately questioned. Instead of spinning a likely tale, the idiot fled, and that’s why Guthrie was turning the man’s body to dust. Guthrie knew the soldier was a dead man as soon as he heard about the incident. The soldier knew it, too, but that didn’t stop him from entering Agro’s tent – a condemned member of the flock following the will of his shepherd... his executioner.

Guthrie reentered the tent as the rest of the spies rushed out, happy to still have their lives. “Do I need to deal with them?” Guthrie asked, turning toward the boss.

“No,” Agro answered, slouching into his chair. “I’m giving them the weekend to get the job done. Dolan has the same, and if someone doesn’t come up with some answers…” His voice rose as his fist smashed into his armrest. “…I’m going to burn this whole fucking state down.”

Guthrie stood quiet and still, waiting for the fit to pass, which it did, but then Agro stared off into the distance, as if he’d forgotten Guthrie was there.

Guthrie cleared his throat, and Agro slowly turned his head. “What?”

“What would you have me do, sir?”

“Go check on the soothsayers. If they haven’t done any good, kill one to motivate the other. Tell the survivor they have one day to prove useful or I’ll start taking a finger every few hours.”

Guthrie bowed his head and turned toward the exit, already picturing the soothsayers’ faces – a witch in her twenties and a middle-aged wizard, the latter of whom would no doubt sacrifice his life for his feminine companion. Guthrie numbly made his way to their quarters, clearly seeing the distraught expression the woman would wear when she watched the life drain from her savior, clearly seeing the everlasting scars the terrifying moment would etch into her soul. Not that she’d suffer long. Unless she somehow managed a miracle, she’d follow her friend to the afterlife in a couple of days.

A waste. That’s what it was. All of it. All for one witch.

Guthrie paused outside the soothsayers’ tent and looked over, making eye contact with Lynette. She sat outside her sleeping quarters, eating a meal by herself. Her aura looked wistful and quiet, and her gaze didn’t waver.

Guthrie swallowed, finding himself drawn to her calm confidence. Then he broke eye contact and returned to his deadly task. Maybe afterward, he’d pay Lyn a visit, let her wipe away the memories he was about to make.

Chapter 24

With less than four hours of sleep, Layla and Quin forced themselves out of bed and began getting ready to join over sixty people for breakfast.
 

Quin was manually dressing Layla in an outfit of his choice when she realized she didn't know who, exactly, she was having breakfast with. “Should I know who the Owen/Sullivan coven is?” she asked, painting her toenails to match her eyes.

Quin finished tying the white, satin belt of her bright yellow dress. Then he summoned her chrome tourmaline jewelry. Magically lifting her hair, he fastened the necklace. Then he dropped her curls and picked up her hand, kissing her palm while wrapping the bracelet around her wrist. Once his task was complete, he took a step back and ran his gaze from her head to her toes. “Perfect,” he praised. “Like sunshine and lemonade.”

She smiled and pulled him closer, kissing the skin over his heart. “Thank you.”
   

“Mmm... thank
you
. The pleasure is all mine.”

“Nope. You don't get all the pleasure. Sorry.”
 

He laughed as he raised her knee-length skirt to her thighs. Then he picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. “To answer your question, no, I guess you don't know who the Owen/Sullivan coven is, but you know a few of their members.”