Retribution (5 page)

He lifted a palm to her cheek as he worriedly searched her face, and she reassured him with a small smile. “Help me get everyone coffee?”

“Of course,” he agreed, taking her under his arm. Then they headed for the kitchenette. “Does everyone want some?”

Mumbles of agreement floated through the room as six more seats were summoned to the table, and within seconds the golden family was gathered with fresh coffee in hand.

Caitrin summoned a pipe and lit it with a flaming fingertip. Then he passed it to Morrigan, who took a pull before passing it to Daleen. Layla curiously watched the exchange while sniffing the air, but every time someone exhaled smoke, they waved a magical hand and swept the fumes away.

When Daleen passed the pipe to Serafin, who also partook, Layla raised an eyebrow at Quin. “What are they smoking?”

“Cannabis,” he answered, as casual as ever, like they were passing around tea and cookies.

Layla flipped her stunned gaze to Kemble, who took his turn before passing the pipe to Cordelia.
 

“Are you serious?” Layla asked, turning back to Quin.

He smiled as he tucked a curl behind her ear and smoothed her wrinkled brow. “Yes. It’s a natural relaxant; eases stress and helps us think calmly when emotions are high.”

“Do you smoke it?”

“Sometimes.” He slid a forefinger down her nose and lightly tapped the tip. “You've never tried it?”

“No. I’ve seen people smoke it, but I thought it was bad for you.”

“Smoking isn’t good for your lungs, but we're healers, so that's not an issue for us.”

“It's also illegal,” she pointed out, and several people in the room laughed.

“We don't live by the government's rules,” Quin returned, accepting the pipe from his mom. “And the law doesn't make much sense in the first place. Luckily for the hexless, state legislatures are catching on. Medical marijuana is legal in Oregon.”

“It is?”

“Yep.”

“Hmm… So you guys wait until I’m bonded into the family to spring the drugs on me?”

Again, several people laughed, and Quin smiled as he wiggled her nose. “You’ve seen Caitrin smoke it.”

“I have?”

“Yes, and you’ll see it again. Most magicians smoke as often as they drink.” He paused and held up the pipe. “Would you like to try it? Few people could benefit from its calming effect more than you. You’ve had a shitty week.”

“Um… I probably shouldn’t. I don't know how, and I don't want to be stupid.”

“It won't make you stupid, Layla. I promise.”

“I've seen people smoke it, and they’d get goofy.”

“Do they look stupid or goofy?” he asked, motioning to the others.

Layla looked at them, noting their auras were more peaceful than before, and their expressions held calm amusement as they watched her and Quin's conversation. “No, I guess they don't, but they've done it before. It might be different with me.”

“It's your choice, love, but I promise it would merely relax you.”

Layla stared at the pipe, thinking it would be an interesting experience if nothing else, and the relaxation he spoke of was tempting. “I don't know, Quin. I feel weird about it.”

“How about I help you, and you just inhale a small amount?”

“How would you do that?”

He stared at her face for a moment, then her aura. Then he winked and tucked the stem of the pipe in his mouth. Layla watched closely as he lit the weed and sucked, and when he pulled the pipe from his lips, he pulled her to them, kissing while releasing half the smoke into her mouth. His mental voice invaded her head, telling her to inhale as he deepened his kiss, and she lazily obeyed, so wrapped up in him she practically forgot about the herb. The smoke hotly entered her lungs. Then it rolled from her nostrils, but she was concentrating on the softness of his lips and tongue, so she barely noticed.

The weed… or his mouth… or a combination of the two, made her melt, and he enhanced the experience by blindly passing the pipe along and wrapping her in a warm hug. A long and blissful moment passed before he pulled his lips from hers. Then he searched her eyes and aura before kissing her nose. “How do you feel? Stupid or goofy?”

Layla’s lips twitched with humor as she wiped his taste from them, trying to separate her reaction to his kiss from her reaction to the weed. Both had been instantaneous, but while his kiss was powerful, the herb had a more subtle effect, and neither had been unpleasant. She just felt more at ease with everything, a little tingly... and hungry for his mouth. “No,” she assured. “Stupid and goofy aren't in the list.”

“Relaxed?”

She grinned, and it was probably a goofy grin, but it had nothing to do with the cannabis and everything to do with the throb between her thighs. “Sure.”

His dimples deepened as he glanced at her aura. Then he stole one more kiss before summoning her coffee from the table and heating it up. “Good. Lean back while we figure out our next move.” He carefully passed the mug over then looked at Caitrin. “Let's start with the most pressing issue. Agro. He’s tiptoeing around now, but that won’t last forever.”

Caitrin took Morrigan's hand and leaned back in his chair. “No it won’t. We tried to lead him to Lake Tahoe, but judging by the fit he threw on our lawn Saturday night, it doesn’t look like he took the bait.”

“How long do you think we have before he makes his next move?” Quin asked.

Caitrin shrugged. “He’s probably still nursing soldiers back to health and trying to replace those he slaughtered on our lawn. We might get another day or two of peace before he shows up… we might not. He's too volatile to predict.”

Quin closed his eyes and nodded, and Layla studied his features, knowing he was contemplating decisions no one should ever have to face.

“What do you think Agro would do if he saw Layla and me?” he asked, opening his eyes.
 

An uncomfortable beat of silence passed as everyone traded glances. Then Serafin leaned forward to answer. “He won’t dismiss the situation, but that's the only certainty I can offer.”

“Let's hear the guesses,” Quin insisted.

“The guesses,” Serafin mumbled, resting his chin in his palm. “He’d probably be disappointed at first, but then he’d realize all the ways your union could benefit him. He’ll no doubt want what the two of you have to offer, but it's hard to say which path he’d choose or how he’d go about walking it. He isn't getting any younger, so he may break his own rules and try to force you both into his troops, or he may gamble on longevity and deem your offspring a higher priority. Either way, the results aren't pleasant.”

“What about the rest of the magical world?” Quin asked. “What do you think about them seeing us?”

Everyone shifted as Serafin responded. “There would be negative ramifications, a lot of them, but dealing with them is worth considering since the alternative is quite heartbreaking.”

Layla straightened and looked at her grandfather. “What alternative?”

“A life in hiding, and not just from the Unforgivables – from everyone. And not just for a while – forever. No social life in the magical world, and no public appearances near coven populated areas, which is about every beautiful location in the world. It would all have to end if you choose to keep your status a secret.”

“Even if we conceal our auras?”

Serafin frowned and gave a shrug. “Of course that would help you maintain your anonymity, but every time you step out with hidden auras there's a chance something will have them snapping free, so you'll be taking a risk no matter where you go. Besides, constantly concealing your auras isn't an ideal option. I know you handle it well, but over time it will start to wear on you. Prolonged concealment can bring a magician down to a level that's difficult to recover from.”

Layla sent her untouched coffee to the table and tucked her face into Quin's neck. “And what are the negative ramifications that would accompany an open life?”

“You’ll be under constant scrutiny,” Kemble predicted.

“And treated like objects,” Caitrin added. “If word travels, which it likely will, they'll come from miles away to see if it's true. Oregon will swarm with foreign magicians asking questions about you.”

“If word travels,” Serafin noted, “you could have more than curious eyes headed your way. Every greedy magician in the world will want a piece of you. Agro would be a drop in the cauldron if the world was alerted to your union.”

Layla’s chest felt heavy and tight, pressing on her lungs and making it hard to breathe. “Are there a lot of magicians like Agro?”

“Yes,” Serafin answered. “Agro’s currently the top terror in the states, but there are a few groups based in other countries that are trouble on all accounts. And if there was any truth to Finley’s claims, one of them already has you on their radar.”

“So those are our options,” she mumbled. “Stay hidden from everyone and everything, or face a life of constant scrutiny and lurking danger.”

No one answered, so they might as well have said a big fat yes.
 

Layla moved her mouth to Quin's ear and whispered. “I'll be right back.”

She unfolded herself from his lap and flew to the bedroom. Then she numbly walked to the bathroom and seated herself on the vanity. She needed to think, and she didn’t want to do it with her loved one’s voices bouncing in her head, so she stared at the mirror and contemplated her and Quin’s options, as pitiful as they were.

She laid her hands in her lap and stretched her fingers, thinking about what she was capable of. Why were the two most powerful magicians in the world being pushed around? It wasn’t fair, and she was already sick of it. She and Quin hadn't hurt anyone, yet they were being punished, and it seemed there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it, which was ridiculous considering they held more power than anyone. She didn’t want people to fear her; she didn’t want to revel in her power and hold it over people’s heads. Nor did she want to live in fear. And she shouldn't have to, damn it. And Quin shouldn't have to give up his home and the life he'd made for himself simply because he'd gained uncanny power. If anything, the increased magical ability should expand his opportunities, not limit his options.

She raised her hands, watching summoned flames ripple from her flesh. Then the fire turned to ice as she grasped it in her fists, letting the cold sink its teeth into her joints.

She was done hiding. She and Quin deserved a happy life, and while they might find contentment hidden away with only each other to love, they’d miss out on the world around them. Her parents didn't die so she could live a life severed from the world. They died to give her a full and free life, and she wasn't going to let it slip away so easily. If someone was going to get it, they’d have to rip it from her cold, dead hands.

Chapter 3

Quin's eyes stayed on the bedroom door as he flexed his empty hands, catching sporadic snippets of the discussion taking place around him.
Damn
. He couldn't concentrate when he couldn't see her, and she'd been gone for at least ten minutes.
 

He was leaning forward to stand when the bedroom door opened and Layla walked through it, floating the clothes from the closet with her. Quin paused, his hands on his knees as he watched her send their wardrobe to the foyer and walk to the kitchenette. She grabbed a plate of chocolate chip cookies off the bar. Then she turned and leaned against the counter, finding his stare as she ate her snack.
 

“Want one?” she asked, holding up a half-eaten cookie.

Quin shook his head no, wondering what conclusions she'd reached in her absence.
 

She looked to the others and raised her eyebrows. “Anyone else? They're really good.”

They silently shook their heads no, and Quin scooted to the edge of the sofa, resting his elbows on his knees while freeing his itchy hands. “What are you doing, Layla?”

“Eating a cookie,” she answered, her smile genuine and easy.

He couldn't help but smile back. “I can see that. What's with the clothes?”

“We're going home,” she announced. Then she summoned a carton of milk, poured a glass, emptied it, then filled it again.

“Are you tired of Karena's best room?” Quin asked, conflicted about the emotions in her aura.

She blissfully sighed and sent the milk to the fridge. “No. I love this suite. I hope you'll bring me here again and again.”

“Sure, love. Anytime.” He glanced at the clothes then found her eyes. “So why are you in such a hurry to leave?”
 

She watched him while she finished her second glass of milk, her gaze meaningful, her jaw set. By the time she lowered the cup and wiped her mouth, Quin knew what was coming.

“I'm done hiding, Quin. And you're not going to start.”

Everyone looked from her to Quin, who had to swallow a lump to find his voice. “Layla Love...” He didn't know what to say, how to tell her the thought of her facing endless danger terrified him, stole his breath and tormented his heart.
 

Keeping her gaze locked on his, she slowly shook her head. “That's not how I want to live; it's not how my parents wanted me to live, and it's not how you should have to live. We're going home and living our lives exactly the way we want to.” She magically cleaned her glass and placed it in the cabinet. Then she turned her back on everyone and rested her palms on the counter. “If we'll be placing the coven in danger by coming home, we'll move, but I'm not leaving Oregon. We'll build a house nearby. That's fine with me. That's an option I can live with.”