Impassion

by B. C. Burgess

  “That’s amazing,” Selena commended.

  “Yeah it is,” Brietta added. “I can’t lighten mine. It barely makes a difference when I try. Will you show us?”

  “Um... sure,” Layla agreed, “but I don’t know how well I’ll do under pressure.”

  “Don’t feel pressured,” Quin insisted. “If it doesn’t work, you’ll be no worse off than Bri.” He smiled and winked at Brietta, who stuck her tongue out again.

  Layla laughed at their banter then closed her eyes, trying to vacuum her emotions. A full, unpredictable feeling squeezed her insides, and she figured it must be working, but then a chorus of gasps snapped her concentration.

  She looked around, finding Brietta, Skyla and Selena staring at her with wide eyes and open mouths. “I guess it worked?” she asked, looking at Quin.

  “Yes,” he answered, “and it’s improved since you showed me earlier.”

  “Really? That’s fantastic.”

  He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Yes it is.”

  “That was very impressive,” Selena noted.

  “Yeah it was,” Skyla agreed.

  “There have been times that trick would have saved my butt,” Brietta added. “May we see your concealment spell?”

  “Sure,” Layla answered. Then she closed her eyes, attempting to blend in like an extraordinary chameleon.

  “Come back,” Alana pleaded, and Layla immediately ceased her efforts to disappear.

  “Thank you,” Alana sighed. “I want to pway with youw haiwr some more.”

  Layla grinned at the toddler, forgetting all about the magic she’d performed. “You can play with my hair all you want, sweetie.”

  Alana’s face and aura brightened. Then she sat in Layla’s lap and wrapped a long spiral around her fingers.

  Layla tentatively lifted a hand then gently ran her fingers through the toddler’s silky locks. “Is it okay if I play with your hair?”

  “Yes,” Alana agreed. “It feews good.”

  Enraptured by the child, Layla felt utterly peaceful sitting that way, like she’d found a piece of her herself she didn’t know was missing, like something foreign yet necessary had adhered to her heart.

  “Looks like Alana has more than your hair wrapped around her fingers,” Selena teased.

  “Is that okay?” Layla asked, quickly looking up.

  “Of course,” Selena laughed. “She has everyone wrapped around her fingers.”

  “I can see why. She’s adorable.”

  “Yes, but let her get away with too much, and she’ll use you to her advantage. She’s a clever, little witch.”

  Alana looked up with sparkling eyes and an ornery grin. “I’m a cwever, wittwe witch.”

  Layla laughed, once again yearning to smother the baby in kisses. “Well if you ever feel like wrapping me around your fingers, just let me know.”

  “Otay,” Alana beamed, grabbing another spiral.

  “Looks like you’ve met our littlest angel,” a voice rang out.

  Layla looked up, finding Morrigan floating toward them.

  “I have,” Layla answered, “and she’s too cute for words.”

  Morrigan knelt and tapped the toddler’s nose. “What do you think, Alana? Do you like our newest member?”

  “I wuv Waywa,” Alana corrected. “She said I could wap hewr awound my fingews.”

  “Of course she did,” Morrigan laughed, straightening as she held out her hands. “Ready for dinner?”

  “Yes,” Alana answered, soaring into her arms, and Layla’s heart sighed as she watched them turn toward the table.

  The others got to their feet to follow, but Quin stayed seated, taking his turn with Layla’s hair. “I guess you like children?”

  “I’ve never been around one long enough to know,” she answered, tearing her gaze from Alana, “but if they’re anything like her, yes I do.”

  He smiled, and Layla couldn’t help but watch his lips, awash with a powerful urge to be in his arms. She glanced at the family then scooted closer, and he wasted no time wrapping her in a hug.

  “I like that,” he said.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You leaning on me,” he answered. “I know it’s hard for you.”

  “It’s getting easier.”

  “I can tell.”

  “I’m sure you can. You pay very close attention to me.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “No, but I worry I’m keeping you from things you’d normally do. I don’t want you putting your life on hold for me.”

  Too late, Quin thought, burying his face in her hair. She’d already taken center stage in his life, blurring everything around her, constantly distracting him from the rest of the world. She’d grabbed him the moment he laid eyes on her; now nothing else compared. When he wasn’t with her, he was thinking about her, his stomach and chest restless until he returned to her. He couldn’t imagine going on with life the way he used to. It would be an extremely unpleasant experience to try.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he insisted, tightening his hug. “I’m not missing anything.”

  After a long, indulgent moment, he pulled his face from her curls and scanned her aura. “Do you feel more comfortable now that you’ve met everyone?”

  “Yes, but the embarrassment will return. It’s inevitable.”

  “It’s okay if it does. It won’t change anything besides the color of your cheeks.”

  “And their temperature,” she added, smiling up at him.

  He glanced at the table, then back. “May I kiss you? No one’s looking.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, and he leaned in, barely touching his lips to hers.

  “I’ll give you a better one later,” he promised.

  “I’ll hold you to it,” she countered.

  He stole another quick kiss then slid his arm under her knees. “Ready for me to carry you to dinner?”

  “No,” she blurted, clutching his shirt. Then she got the joke and relaxed. “You’re a funny, funny guy, Quin.”

  “I like teasing you,” he confessed.

  “I know,” she whispered, laying her cheek to his heart. “I like it, too.”

  Chapter 14

  THE SETTING SUN’S RAYS DIPPED into basalt fissures as Agro flew over the Craters of the Moon National Monument—miles of cracked lava fields and sparse sagebrush that reached for the fading light with pale, prickly fingers.

  In the distance, Agro could see the Pioneer Mountains, which was all that stood between him and Ketchum, Idaho.

  He’d sent Farriss ahead of his slow moving unit with orders to sneak into the census office of Blaine County for a list of residents with the surname Callaway. If Farriss managed to keep a low profile and find something useful, Agro’s web would soon grow. The witch’s adopted mother held a loan in Ketchum long ago. Perhaps she haled from the area and left behind a family, perhaps Layla had visited them on her way to the coast. If the theories held water, Agro would sniff her out.

  After navigating over snowy peaks, Agro ordered his army to descend into a dense cluster of grand firs burgeoning from the western side of the mountains.

  “Scout the area,” he instructed, “and set up camp.”

  A soldier in his teens rushed to unpack the boss’ tent, but Agro waved him away. “Don’t bother. I won’t be sticking around.”

  No, he’d spend his night visiting every Callaway in the County, looking for his witch. As anxious as he was to get to Oregon and interrogate her birth family, Ketchum was on the way, and he’d leave no stone unturned.

  After thirty minutes of impatient pacing, he received a mental message from a soldier standing guard to the west. ‘Farriss is entering camp, sir.’

  Agro halted and looked up, counting the seconds until the brute’s aura came into view. The haze swam slowly, its flow sporadic, its moody colors bleeding into dark sky.

  “About time,” Agro scolded. “And you bring bad news.”

  Farriss alighted and bowed hi
s head. “There are no Callaways in Blaine County, sir.” He offered proof of his claim, and Agro snatched the piece of paper from his hand.

  “Figures,” he simmered, scanning the evidence before turning it to ash.

  He looked to the moon as he thumbed the smoky quartz encrusted in his belt, wondering how far he should dig. “Widen the search to include Ada County,” he decided. “Boise is the most likely option as well as the county seat, so we’ll start there. I want to eliminate this possibility before visiting her family.”

  “I’ll put together a unit,” Farriss offered, “then head that way.”

  “Four,” Agro instructed.

  “Sir?” Farriss returned.

  “I only want four soldiers in the unit,” Agro elaborated. “The best we have on hand. I’m going with you.”

  “With all due respect, sir, we’re merely searching the hexless…”

  “I want my witch,” Agro snapped. “I know her scent, and her energy is easily detected among the hexless if you have half a brain and a nose for power. I’m going with you.”

  “As you wish,” Farriss agreed. “I’ll gather the party.”

  “Make sure they can be discreet,” Agro added. “Now’s not a good time to raise alarms in the hexless capital of Idaho.”

  He turned to enter his tent, finding nothing but cones and needles, and his chest expanded as he scanned the nearby soldiers. “Where’s my tent?”

  A young man cleared his throat as he slowly stood, a bowl of soup cupped in his trembling hands. “Well, sir, you… you said don’t bother.”

  Agro narrowed his eyes on him. Then he snapped his fingers and pointed. “Right. No tent. Get my cloak.”

  Chapter 15

  LAYLA HAD NEVER SEEN SUCH a diverse spread of food—dozens of dishes piled with perfectly prepared appetizers, entrées and desserts, as if each of the twenty-eight magicians had ordered a separate five course meal. But Layla practically ignored the food as she raptly watched the scene from her spot between Quin and Morrigan.

  As talking quelled eating, a cloudy moon overtook the clearing, and floating flames illuminated the table. The people, however, were lit by colorful auras. Soon the food and platters disappeared, leaving behind the beverages, and Caitrin stood, stealing the coven’s undivided attention.

  “Tonight is a special night,” he announced, suspending the silence. “We’re gathered to welcome not one, but three new members into our coven, and each of them already holds a special place in our hearts. Serafin and Daleen have been in our lives for over twenty-one years, always displaying the benevolence and loyalty our family fiercely regards. Any coven would be lucky to have them, but they’ve chosen ours. It’s an honor to welcome you,” he conveyed, squeezing Serafin’s shoulder. “We couldn’t be more thrilled with your decision to make our home your own.”

  “The honor’s ours,” Serafin replied, smiling at Layla. “There’s nowhere else we’d rather be.”

  Caitrin looked at Layla as well, and as everyone’s eyes followed, Layla’s cheeks ignited.

  “And you, Layla Love,” Caitrin proclaimed. “We’ve waited so long for this moment. By coming home, you’ve renewed hope and mended a family that’s been broken since the day your parents left. Words simply cannot convey how much this means to us. We can only hope you’ll be as happy here as we are to have you here, because only then will you understand the enormity of your homecoming.”

  His welcome was beautiful, but Layla’s lungs froze as she tried to swallow a painful lump. It didn’t work. Not that it mattered; her voice had run away with her nerve. She was a fool drowning in a sea of silence as an audience watched, wondering why she refused to speak and save herself. She squeezed her eyes shut, searching for a dose of bravery, and while she found solace in Quin’s warm hand as it took hers under the table, her confidence barely improved.

  Well, time to show them who you really are, a bumbling idiot. “Thank you,” she offered, forcing herself to look around. “It’s an honor to join such an amazing family.” Her body and voice shook, so she cleared her throat and clutched the edge of the table. “Everyone’s been wonderful. I look forward to learning more.” A small whoosh of air escaped her lungs as she looked down, so flushed with embarrassment she surely glowed.

  “Then let’s not delay,” Caitrin returned, “and make it so.”

  He raised his wine into the air, and the rest of the coven followed suit. “To Serafin,” he called, and everyone echoed the name. Even the pets joined in, barking, mewling and twittering their agreement. “To Daleen,” Caitrin prompted, and the coven repeated him as he turned his gaze on Layla. “To Layla.”

  “To Layla,” the coven chorused.

  Then Caitrin looked to his goblet as he raised it higher. “And to a healthy and happy family.”

  “Hear, hear,” the family exclaimed. Then everyone drank as hair-raising excitement and heart-swelling love charged the atmosphere.

  Amazed by the tradition, Layla followed everyone’s lead, and the hot humiliation faded as warm tingles awakened her pulse.

  When the wine glasses were placed on the table, they disappeared, and everyone got to their feet. Quin stood and pulled out Layla’s chair, and she took his hand, rising as witches and wizards soared into the air.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “The clearing you learned to fly in,” Morrigan answered. “That’s where the ritual will be performed.”

  Caitrin stepped forward and squeezed Layla’s shoulders. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” she answered, and she was. Adrenaline inundated her veins, spiking her enthusiasm.

  Her grandparents took turns kissing her cheek then flew away without her, so she looked at Quin. “Ready?”

  He smiled. Then he squeezed his eyes shut as a tiny voice spoke from beside them. “May I wide with you, Quinwin?”

  Layla looked down at Alana then up at Selena, who quickly approached. “Not tonight, Alana. Quin’s riding with Layla.”

  “Oh,” Alana mumbled, puckering teeny lips.

  “I don’t mind,” Layla blurted. She would not be the one to put that look on Alana’s face. “You can ride with Quin, Alana, and I’ll fly beside you. How does that sound?”

  “Yeah,” Alana approved. “Then you can see me fwy.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Selena interjected.

  “I want to,” Layla insisted. “It sounds fun.”

  “It wiw be,” Alana assured, waving her mom away as she soared into Quin’s arms.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” Selena pressed.

  “Positive,” Layla answered.

  “Okay,” Selena agreed. “Be good, Alana.”

  “I’m aways good,” Alana boasted, bouncing on Quin’s arm.

  Selena laughed then shot toward the sky, leaving them alone on the lawn.

  “That was sweet of Layla, wasn’t it?” Quin asked, nudging Alana with his nose.

  “Yes,” Alana agreed. “That’s why I wuv her.”

  “The pleasure’s mine,” Layla countered, smiling at the toddler. Then she blushed as she looked at Quin. “We’ll get our chance, right?”

  “Right,” he confirmed, shifting Alana to his chest. “Are you two beautiful girls ready to fly?”

  “I’m weady,” Alana answered, laying her cheek to his.

  Layla watched them for a moment—gentle giant and pint-sized pixie. Then she smiled at the sky. “Me, too.”

  “On three then,” he said. “One... two... three...”

  Alana squealed as they shot into the air, and Layla watched her face, laughing at the wonderment in her wide eyes.

  When Quin leveled out with his back to the ground, Layla leaned forward, slightly disoriented by the vastness around her, endless cloudy sky and unnerving freedom. Without familiar landmarks to guide her, not even a distant aura, she was lost, so she stayed close to Quin, anxiously flipping her gaze from him, to the toddler in his arms, to the dark trees below.

  Quin stifled l
aughter as he watched Layla’s concentration.

  With his stare glued to her, his speed suffered, and he had to remind himself multiple times to pay attention to his route. It was damn difficult. Layla had him spellbound—her uncloaked body alluringly silhouetted against purple clouds; her expression intrigued and fastidious; her onyx spirals recklessly flowing behind her as her stimulated aura called his name. Only the child in his arms kept him from answering.

  Unsurprising, really—the fascination he felt. He’d been captivated since their first meeting, mesmerized by every step she took and every word she spoke, even those uttered through insecurities. She was perfect, yet her beauty and magnetism continually strengthened. Quin spent years imagining what she would look like, contemplating her attributes and personality traits, and he often scolded himself for setting the bar too high, for creating a fantasy no woman could ever fulfill, not even the mysterious Layla. As it turned out, he never imagined her well enough, beautiful enough or sweet enough, and he vastly underestimated the affect she would have on him.

  He wondered what he’d done, for mankind or the Heavens, to deserve the attention of the most exquisite creature to walk the earth. He also questioned his ability to keep her attention, a challenge only a fool would ignore. He wasn’t the only man who’d throw himself at her feet with the hopes of catching her eye as she walked over him, and she would be meeting the others soon—hordes of handsome wizards clamoring over each other for a chance to impress her, all of them ingrained with magic, charisma, and an unrelenting desire to gain the coveted attention of the most beautiful witch in the world.

  Yes, keeping her would be a challenge, but Quin relished the opportunity. He hadn’t suffered true defeat since he was fifteen, and he’d never been more determined to win. If someone wanted to take Layla from him, they had their work cut out for them.

  Smoky firelight rose from a gap in the trees, and Quin slowed, securing his hold on Alana as he floated upright and headed for earth. Layla, however, stayed in the air, mouth hanging open as she scanned the breath-taking view.

  Smaller than the lawn, with a large bonfire leaping from the center, the ritual clearing glowed with bright auras—a sea of rainbows dancing around roaring flames. Layla never wanted to forget the astonishing view, so she closed her eyes, making sure she had it memorized.