Retribution (64 page)

Layla intently met Brietta's stare, trying to ignore the fact that Daleen and Morrigan were putting something in her curls. “I'm not like you, Bri. I didn't know what you've known for years. Before Quin, I'd only kissed three guys, two of them once.” She looked down, her cheeks burning as she quietly continued. “And I'd only had sex once… if you want to call five uncomfortable minutes in the cab of a pickup truck sex.”

The women who weren't members of her coven gasped, but her own family watched her with sad eyes and auras, and her grandmas had stopped fussing with her hair.

Layla swallowed her embarrassment and urged Morrigan and Daleen to continue doing whatever it was they were doing. “Don't feel sorry for me. I'm doing just fine now.” She looked at Brietta, who remained speechless. “But you see my point. Quin might as well have been dealing with a virgin, a scared and insecure virgin. I think Kegan would have shown you the same consideration if that's what he thought you needed.”

Brietta tilted her head and smiled. “Maybe.” Then she turned to a table and grabbed a pile of blue and green chiffon wrapped in silver chains. “So it's no wonder you're so shy.”

“That's part of the reason, yes.”

“Well,” Morrigan interrupted, “there's no time for modesty now. We’re ready for you to lose the robe.”
 

Layla tensed as her gaze snapped to her grandma. “What?”

“It's okay, honey,” Daleen soothed. “There's no reason to be embarrassed. You're absolutely beautiful. Now lose the robe or I'll have to vanish it.”

Layla's entire body flushed with heat as she glanced around. At least thirty witches were there, and some of them were practically strangers.
 

Brietta flashed a cheeky grin while holding her arms out, baring her body with comfort. “It's no big deal, Layla. We all have the same parts, and we're all blessed with beautiful bodies. I say be grateful and show off how lovely you are.”

Layla sighed and squeezed her eyes shut, mentally pumping herself up. “Fine.” She found Brietta and pointed. “Stop staring at me. It messes with my head and you know it.”

Brietta returned her attention to the material in her hands, attempting to hide her grin. “Okay, okay. I won't stare.”

Morrigan laughed as she slipped Layla's robe off her shoulders. “Brietta's an ornery one, isn't she?”

“She has it down to an art form,” Layla agreed, trying to ignore the air hitting her unclothed body, “and she makes it so damn cute. It's like looking into the eyes of a puppy that just crapped on your floor. Do you love on her? Or get stern with her? It's a toss-up every time.”
 

Brietta laughed as she looked up to respond, but then she fell silent, doing exactly what she said she wouldn't – curiously staring.

“Bri!”

“I'm sorry, Layla, but I didn't know you wore underwear. They're shocking.”

At that, everyone looked at Layla's white, lacy panties, and her arms shook in an effort not to hide herself. “
My
attire's shocking?”
 

“They're cute,” Brietta replied, leaning around to peek at Layla's backside.
 

Morrigan ran her hands down Layla’s arms, leaving shimmering trails that seemed to glow. “I'm surprised you still wear them.”
 

“I like them,” Daleen offered, giving Layla's legs the same shiny treatment.

“Does Quin like them?” Brietta asked.

Layla's mouth fell open. “Bri!”
 

“What?”

“You're feisty today.”

“I know,” Brietta confessed, wrinkling her nose. “So does he?”

Layla's lips twitched into a smile, but she kept them sealed as she awkwardly stood there, letting Morrigan move her underwear aside and add sparkles to her hips and rear.

“He does,” Brietta assumed. “That's one reason you still wear them.”

“You got me, Bri,” Layla confessed. “Maybe you should get yourself some. See what they do for Kegan.”

“I just might, Layla Love, I just might. So, anymore tricks up your sleeve?”

Layla shook her head no, but she gave Brietta a wink, leaving her to wonder. Then her eyes widened on Daleen's hands, which were sliding over her breasts, making them shimmer, too. “May I ask why you're decorating me with glitter?”

Daleen and Morrigan froze, glancing at each other before nervously looking at Layla. “Do you not like it?” Morrigan asked.

“I didn't say that,” Layla countered. “It's pretty. I’m just wondering why you're going through all the trouble of tinseling me up like a Christmas tree.”

“We just want to draw attention to your brilliance,” Daleen answered. “As you can see, we're all dressing more glamorous than usual.”

“Why?”

“To look pretty,” Brietta answered. Then she huffed at the material in her hands and held it out to Cinnia. “Here, grandma. I can't figure the damn thing out.”
 

Morrigan stepped closer to Layla and played with her hair. “It's okay, right?”

“Sure,” Layla agreed. What could it hurt to let her grandmas play?

“Good,” Morrigan approved, “because you look even more stunning than usual. Do you like the stones on your nails? They’re rainbow moonstones.”

Layla looked at the gem on her thumbnail, admiring the light blue sheen radiating from the depths of its pearly shell. “They're pretty.”

“They emanate good energy,” Daleen revealed. “We've added them to your hair and clothing as well.”

“My clothing?” Layla asked, looking up.

“Yes,” Daleen confirmed, adding an iridescent luster to Layla’s face. “Morrigan and I made you something to wear tonight. It's loaded with gemstones, and held together with silver – a feminine metal that protects and calms.”

“Oh,” Layla mumbled, nervous about what they had planned.

“It will look lovely, darling,” Daleen assured. “You'll shine like the star you are.”
 

Daleen moved behind Layla, messing with her hair and whatever she and Morrigan had put in it, and Layla's gaze fell on Brietta, who was dressed and ready and looked like a sparkling, ocean goddess. The outfit she wore was the skimpiest and prettiest Layla had ever seen – sheer material in turquoise and sea-green, hugging Brietta's perfect form while adding little coverage to the silver bikini barely hiding her intimate areas.
 

“What do you think?” Brietta asked, noticing Layla's stare.

“You look beautiful,” Layla whispered, “like a goddess.”

Brietta happily hummed and clapped her bejeweled hands. “I can't wait to look in the mirror.”

“You'll like what you see,” Layla assured.

“I hope so,” Brietta returned. “Playing dress up is the only reason I volunteered for this.”

“Don't,” Layla scolded.

Several people jolted, and Brietta shrank back. “I'm sorry, Layla. I shouldn't have said that, but you know I didn't mean it.”

“I do, but please don't joke about that. It's not funny and it ruins the moment.”

“Okay. I really am sorry. So I look pretty?” she asked, half smiling, half puckering.

Layla grinned, confirming all was forgiven. “You look gorgeous. Very easy on the eyes. I don't want to look away.”

“Just wait ’til you see yourself.”

“I'm naked, Bri.”

“Not for long,” Morrigan noted, vanishing Layla's underwear as Daleen magicked a new ensemble onto her glittering body.

Several people gasped their approval, and tears flooded her grandmas’ eyes. “Oh, sweetie,” Morrigan whispered, touching Layla's cheek. “Your radiance could light up the darkest night.”

“Stunning,” Daleen agreed.

“Quinlan will love it,” Cordelia assured.
 

“Maybe a little too much,” Brietta teased. “We might lose his attention for good once he sees you.”

Layla's cheeks flamed. Then she looked down, choking at the cleavage staring back at her. “I'm supposed to wear
this
out
there
?” she blurted, pointing from what could hardly be called an outfit to the tent's entrance.

“Yes,” Daleen answered. “Most witches will be wearing less than this, so I promise it's not too revealing. You look perfect, and there's absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.”

“She's right,” Brietta offered. “It covers more than mine, and you really do look amazing. You make the rest of us look like crones.”

“Impossible,” Layla mumbled, making sure all her private parts were covered while trying to figure out how she’d find the courage to walk around in such risqué attire.

“Stop fidgeting,” Brietta demanded, grabbing Layla's hand. Then she pulled her close, placing her at her side. “Someone get us a mirror. If I still look pretty standing next to Layla, I'll know I'm in good shape.”

A large, oval mirror floated across the room and landed with its back to them. Then Cinnia placed her hand on top. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Brietta answered, and Layla gave an insecure nod.

Cinnia spun the mirror around, and Brietta gasped while twisting and turning so she could see herself from every angle, but Layla just stood there, staring at a woman she didn't recognize.

Literally sparkling from head to toe, she exuded traits she’d never seen so clearly in her reflection – confidence, strength… and sexiness.

She looked at her hair – ringlets threaded with silver fibers, giving the onyx spirals a platinum sheen. The crown of her head held a delicate, silver circlet embedded with grains of rainbow moonstones; and countless silver strands cascaded from the band, dangling miniscule gems down the length of her curls. A thicker braid of silver scattered with larger stones wrapped around the back of her neck, intersected at her collarbone, then separated into much thinner chains that scalloped over her breasts. It looked like her nipples might find their way through if she moved the wrong way, but she knew better. She could feel silk beneath the metal even if she couldn't see it. Her stomach was bare, just shimmering skin, a belly button, and a fragile-looking silver chain poised on the curve of her waist, sprinkling her sides with dainty jewels. The curves of her hips held a bejeweled, silver belt draped with two strips of white silk, one in the front and one in the back, which reached halfway down her thighs… or, to be more precise, between her thighs, providing minimum coverage to her most intimate body part. Like the stringy bra, she could feel more silk beneath the skimpy loincloth, but she couldn't see it. What she did see were the outer curves of her butt and thighs, which weren’t the least bit hidden by the transparent fabric flowing from the sides of the belt. The same wispy material fluttered from thin silver bands wrapping around her biceps and upper thighs, and more fine-spun silver circled a couple of her toes.

Morrigan and Daleen watched Layla's reflection as they knelt, adding silver bands to her ankles. Then they stood and dressed her wrists in feminine, silver bracers.
 

Brietta was celebrating her own outfit, performing a sexy sashay away from the mirror while looking over her shoulder at her backside. “I do believe I pull this look off perfectly. Maybe I should start dressing like this all the time. What do you think, grandma? Can I wear this to work?”

“It would definitely keep the customers pouring in,” Cinnia laughed, “but they won't be able to look away from you long enough to read the menu.”

“Then I'll serve them the most expensive item.”

“That's my clever girl,” Cinnia approved. Then she magically donned her own glamorous ensemble.

Layla still hadn't said anything, and Morrigan couldn't take her silence any longer. “So what do you think, sweetie?”

Layla blinked at the image, the confident, strong and sexy image. But it was an illusion. She didn’t feel any of those things.

Swallowing a lump, she looked at her grandmas. “It's beautiful. You did a lovely job making it.”

“That's not what I meant,” Morrigan clarified, finding reasons to touch her here and there. “What do you think of the whole package? Not just the clothing.”

“Oh,” Layla mumbled, looking at the mirror. “I feel like a fictional character. It's hard to believe that's me in there.”

Morrigan smiled and sighed. “You're not telling me what I want to know, Layla. Do you feel pretty?”

Layla turned away from the mirror, flipping her gaze between Morrigan and Daleen. “I've never felt more glamorous than I do now, but...” She paused, glancing back at her scantily clad and glittery reflection. “I don't think I can wear it. There's no way I'll be comfortable walking around in front of people dressed like this. I'm sorry.”

Brietta's strutting halted as she scowled at Layla. “No way,” she protested, shaking her head while walking forward. “You're not taking that off. You
can't
.” Her expression turned pleading as she shook Layla’s shoulders. “You look
so
pretty. You have to wear it. How could you keep such an enchanting sight from the people you love?”

“That's not fair,” Layla returned. “And stick that lip back in. It will do you no good.” She lifted her chin and looked away from Brietta's pitiful face. “I can't walk out there like this. I’d die of embarrassment before I ever made it to the battle.” She turned toward her grandmas, feeling like a brat, and her eyes moistened as she spoke to them. “I'm sorry. It's so beautiful, and I appreciate the thought you put into it, but I can't get past the unease.” Guilt tightened her throat, and she dropped her ashamed gaze to the floor. “I'm sorry.”