Retribution (66 page)

She nonchalantly looked up at him, checking if he was searching the air around her, and he did, in fact, glance at what must have been her aura, but he didn't react to what he saw, which was a sign of success. As soon as she was inwardly celebrating her achievement, she realized she shouldn't have been so cocky, because the test wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

“Would you like to do the honors?” he asked, holding up two leather bands.
 

“Um…” Using magic to steady her hand, she reached for them. Then she looked between the bands and her severed curl. “I don't know how.”
 

“Here,” he offered, taking back one of the leather strips. Then he worked half of the hair out of her other hand. After looping the curl several times to make it more compact, he magically adhered it to the inside of the band. Then he handed it back before taking the other. “I'm surprised you let them cut your hair.”

She had both strips of leather back in her palm, but she didn't look up. “How should I tie them?” she asked, holding absolutely still. The alternative was a speeding heart, numb and shaky muscles, a lot of tears, and a pale face. Damn it. She was a mess on the inside.

“With magic,” he answered.

“Right,” she returned, forcing a laugh. “Of course.”

“Is something wrong, Layla?”

Damn it. “No,” she lied, and guilt seeped through her veins like poison, crippling her defenses. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you're not looking at me. In fact, you're not moving at all. You could replace the statue of Aphrodite at the Louvre.”

“You flatter me,” she replied, still not looking at him, but she discontinued her effort to look away from him and moved to his side. Time to attempt the impossible – tie the bands without losing it.

“You're hiding from me,” he realized, looking between her aura and face. “You've learned a new trick.”

“Quin,” she whispered, her heart bubbling with love for his sincere attention to detail. But she didn't say anything else as she pulled his arm from his side and wrapped the leather strap around his bicep.

“Why?” he quietly asked, his aura darkening.

She didn't answer. She couldn't. She merely moved her face closer to his arm, pretending to concentrate on her task, but she was really hiding the moisture in her eyes as she secured the dreaded armband with magic.

She walked behind him to get to his other arm, but when she glanced at his back, she halted, examining the symbol depicted between his shoulder blades in what looked like metallic-gold paint. It was a symbol she'd seen many times before – two sprigs of leaves crossing at the stalks, their fronds stretching out away from each other before curving back in to form an incomplete circle, like a horseshoe. It reminded her of wings, or the leafy crowns toga clad Romans wore, but she had no idea what it meant. She reached up and gingerly touched the design, half afraid it might rub off on her finger, but his skin felt the same as always, and her fingertip didn't turn gold.
 

“Is there gold embedded in your skin?” she asked, moving to his bicep. Then she pulled it from his side so she could put a damn armband around it.

“Yes,” he answered, narrowing his eyes on her. “It's a laurel wreath, a symbol of victory. Now why don't you try answering mine?”

She was almost done, damn it, but his sharp tone had her hands shaking, making it impossible to secure the strap, so she stopped trying and looked at him. “I can't, Quin. Please drop it.”

“No,” he sternly refused, drawing the attention of bystanders.

“Please, Quin,” she breathed.

“No, Layla. I won't have you lying to me. That's not how this is supposed to work.”

“It's not like that,” she countered, returning her gaze to the band as she once again tried to fasten it.

“Yes it is,” he insisted. “You're purposefully keeping things from me.”
 

“I just...” Her voice trailed off as she moved closer to his arm, angry her fingers and magic wouldn't do what she wanted them to. “I just...” The band slipped from one of her hands. “Damn it.”

“Forget the damn armband,” Quin ordered, grabbing her wrist before she could go back to her attempt.

“I’d love to,” she shot back.
 

He moved her in front of him and took her other wrist. Then he pulled her to his chest so she couldn't turn away. “Look at me.”

His rough demand and untamed handling of her wrists had her moist eyes snapping to his, and her lungs emptied as her fingers and toes went numb.

“Stop – lying – to me,” he fiercely ordered, but then his temper melted, softening his expression and voice. “Do you have any idea how much you're hurting me right now?”

Her eyes widened as tears rolled from their corners, and he intently watched them as he continued. “Do you have any idea how it makes me feel to know you're coming up with magic for the sole purpose of hiding things from me? Do you know how terrified I am that you're going to make a habit out of lying now that you can get away with it? Why are you doing this? What is it that has you risking my trust?”

“Quin,” she cried, dropping her ashamed face to his chest. “I'm sorry... I'm so... sorry...”

As her tears found Quin’s flesh, every muscle in his body flexed, his wounded heart leaping into his throat, but he wouldn’t cave. “Then stop doing this, Layla. Don't hide from me.”

Dark blue and brown fog rolled from her body, polluting the bright haze around her until it was practically black, and everyone gasped as Quin’s lungs deflated.

Wrapping her in a hug, he carried her away from the others. Then he sat on the ground with her on his lap. He didn't ask her to explain herself, and she didn't offer, so he just held her while watching her honest aura.

Once her sobs quieted and the sad hues thinned out, allowing the prettier colors to shine through, he leaned her back and wiped the moisture from her sparkling cheeks. “No more hiding, Layla. You don't have to explain your feelings if you don't want to, but at least give me the opportunity to figure them out for myself. I don't know how you managed to manipulate your aura. I don't want to know, and I don't ever want to see it again, not for my benefit.”

She nodded as she averted her bloodshot gaze. “I shouldn't have, Quin. I'm sorry.”

“Do you want to tell me why you did?”

“No.”

“Fine. Please don't do it again.”

“I won't,” she assured, still looking at her lap.

“Layla.”

“Yeah?”

“Why won't you look at me?”

“Because I'm ashamed, Quin. I lied and I hurt you. I did it all wrong. I did exactly what I didn't want to do.” She covered her face with a shaky hand. “I don't want to lose your trust… I hate the thought.”

“Hey,” he whispered, once again forcing her to look at him. “I do trust you, Layla, more than I've ever trusted anyone, because I know you, inside and out.”

“No, Quin. I've ruined it. You'll always wonder now.”

“You're allowed mistakes, love. I have no doubt you had the best intentions when you hid your feelings from me, but now you know that doesn't work. It hurts us both, so I trust you not to repeat this mistake. I know you have no problem hurting yourself, but me, you'll protect.”

She nodded, and he sighed. “Well you need to realize what hurts you, hurts me, whether you hide it or not, so stop trying to be my martyr. We're supposed to be sharing our lives, not hiding them from each other.”

“Times are bad right now, Quin. I have more terrifying shit going through my head than I know what to do with. I can't unload it all on you. There's not enough time for that.”

“I understand that, but going out of your way to keep your fears out of your aura won’t solve anything. It will only distract us both, and it's sure to cause the inevitable release to last twice as long.”

“I won't do it again, Quin. I promise.”

“I believe you.” He stood then lowered her feet to the ground. “I'm all ears if you decide you want to talk about what started this whole thing.”

“I know,” she mumbled. “Please don't be offended if I don't.”

“It takes a lot more than that to offend me,” he assured, reaching for her cheek.

Her chest rose with a shaky breath as she turned her face into his palm. “I love you, Quin.”

He pulled her into a tight hug and kissed her head. Then he leaned back and found her shiny eyes. “It's time to leave, angel. Are you all set?”
 

Her heart jumped into an unnatural race, and he loosened his hold on her.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“It's not your fault, love.”

She scanned the lawn, taking several seconds to stare at her house. Then she sighed and looked at Quin. “Did I mess up Daleen and Morrigan's handiwork?”

“No. It's set with magic, so you look exactly the same as you did before the tears – beautiful, stunning, angelic... Call it what you want. You look like a heavenly dream come true, and I’d follow you anywhere, anytime.”

“Thank you.”

He kissed her sparkling nose. “You're welcome. Now, would you like to put that armband on me?”

Her aura swelled with sadness as she looked at the leather strap in her hand. “Could you have your mom do it?”

He intently watched the haze around her, trying to figure out why the accessory caused her such anguish, but he couldn't make any sense out of it. “Sure,” he replied, relieving her of the armband.

And it lessened her load far more than he realized.

Layla let him lead her to his mom, but she looked away when Cordelia fastened the leather strip around his bicep.

“All set,” Cordelia announced, patting his arm. “Now get down here and let me kiss you.”

After letting his mom kiss his cheek, he turned to Layla and carefully raised her hood over her hair. “Ready?”

She wasn't. She wasn't ready at all. She’d never be ready to leave her home without knowing she'd come back.

He leaned in and touched his forehead to hers. “Don't forget the bright side.”

She swallowed a lump as she gave a sad nod. Then she hovered up his body and tucked her face into his neck. “Let's go.”

Chapter 45

The time consuming trip north gave Layla's heart time to slow down to an almost normal pace, which gave Quin the opportunity to hold her tightly.

She spent the journey concentrating on forgiving herself for her lie, because she refused to spend what little time they had left hiding her shameful face. She wanted to be the woman Quin loved when they landed. She owed him that and so much more.

When he alighted on the land shield camouflaging their army, he instructed her to lift the concealment spells on their bodies, and she obeyed while pulling her face from his neck. He smiled when he found her eyes. Then he pulled her into a kiss, keeping her there until the rest of their party caught up.

“So what do you think, Quinlan?” Caitrin asked. “Will we let them see our lights now, or are we still keeping them under wraps?”

“Layla and I won't show ours this soon, and since they probably realize she's related to you, I suggest you don't either, but I won't demand it of you.” He looked at his parents. “They already know I'm a bonded child, so you two don't need to hide anymore.”

All those involved agreed, and Caitrin knelt, touching his hand to the invisible shield. White fog rolled out from beneath his palm, and a loud thrum pulsed from the clearing below. “I'd say they're almost ready,” Caitrin noted, smiling up at everyone. “Shall we join them?”

“Hell, yeah,” Weylin agreed, flipping through the smoky opening.

The majority of his family followed him with similar enthusiasm. Then Banning dove in, and Brietta wasn't far behind as she pulled Kegan along. After glancing in the hole, she turned into his chest. Then she flashed a cheeky smile and fell backward, forcing him to fall with her.

Layla wasn't sure what all the excitement was about, but it seemed fun.

“Ready?” Quin asked, squeezing her hand.

“I don't know,” she answered. “But who cares? Let's go.”

They both walked forward and stepped into the fog. Then they floated out of the way of the opening and slowly drifted toward earth.
 

The atmosphere felt charged and bubbly; and a brisk and catchy beat swirled up around them, rising from a large assortment of instruments manually played by an array of magicians. Layla smiled at them, but then she focused on the details of the dynamic clearing, and her eyes widened as her cheeks warmed.

The witches and wizards who were dancing, playing music, drinking, or lounging around watching everyone else, had gone glamorous as well, and many of them wore outfits that couldn't really be classified as such since they provided less coverage than a swimsuit. None of the men had shirts, and there wasn't one conservatively dressed female in the glade. In fact, aside from the mercenaries and herself, no one wore a cloak, and some of them might as well have been wearing nothing at all. Many of the witches displayed their breasts as though it was perfectly normal behavior, and a few of the wizards had nothing but leather and metal bands keeping them from flashing the world.