Impassion

by B. C. Burgess

  “I will.”

  A moment of silence. Then he spoke again. “I know this is difficult, Layla, and I understand you’re used to dealing with things on your own, but we don’t have to do that around here. It’s different, I know, but if you give it a chance, you might find it fits.”

  “I’ll work on that,” she replied, unsure what else to say.

  He sighed then cleared his throat. “Call or come by if you need anything.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  “Bye, Layla.”

  She hung up and stared at the phone, wondering why it was so easy to slip into a lonely life, yet harder than hell to slip out.

  Her stomach growled, so she headed for the kitchen, hoping Morrigan followed through with her plans to stock food. After starting a pot of coffee, Layla opened the fridge to find it full of her favorite snacks, including the most perfect looking apples she’d ever seen. Knives, however, were nowhere to be found.

  “Oh yeah,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes.

  With a wave of her hand, she peeled and sliced her apple. Then she leaned against the counter, watching the coffee brew as she ate.

  Finally, with average caffeine in hand, she walked outside and settled herself in the middle of the lawn. Though the rain had slowed to a drizzle, it quickly saturated her hair, and her butt got soaked the moment she sat. She didn’t mind getting wet, but it left her susceptible to the icy breeze dipping into the clearing.

  She closed her eyes, imagining an invisible, rainproof dome sheltering her body, and the wind stilled. When she opened her eyes, she found the rain hitting her spell only to splash away or trickle downward, like a bubble under a waterfall.

  She magically dried her hair and sweatshirt. Then she sipped her coffee while watching the outside world blur. A tranquil moment—sitting somewhat warm and halfway dry as her magic did exactly as she intended. But the peace shattered when a flash of color landed outside her dome.

  “That’s a nifty umbrella,” said a confident female voice. “Who’s under there?”

  Layla dropped her spell, tensing as her gaze landed on a stranger—a witch around twenty with pretty clothes and a bright aura.

  “I don’t know you,” the woman pointed out.

  “Why would you?” Layla asked.

  “Because I know everyone in this coven,” the woman answered. “I’m Maeveen. I live in a community southeast of here, in the Willamette National Forest.”

  Layla scanned the witch from top to bottom, trying to decide if she could be trusted. The coven was supposed to be guarding the property, so apparently they didn’t mind Maeveen coming in, but Layla was surprised Serafin hadn’t ushered her inside first. Guess it’s okay, she decided, offering a hand. “Nice to meet you, Maeveen. I’m Layla.”

  Her hand went unnoticed as Maeveen’s green and gold eyes grew huge. “The Layla? As in—the mysterious Layla?”

  Layla stiffened, attempting to lighten her aura without closing her eyes. She felt it work, but couldn’t tell how well. Why was this woman calling her the mysterious Layla when Quin claimed no one outside the coven knew about her mysterious past?

  Maeveen still hadn’t accepted her hand, so Layla dropped it and played dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who’s the mysterious Layla?”

  Maeveen tilted her head. “Quin’s mysterious Layla.”

  “What?” Layla blurted, nearly losing her grip on her aura. “Quin has a mysterious Layla?”

  Maeveen propped her hands on her skinny hips, looking confused. “Are you lying?”

  “About what?”

  “You really don’t know about Quin’s mysterious Layla?”

  “No, I really don’t.”

  Maeveen curiously stared for a long moment. Then she flipped her auburn hair behind her shoulders and sat. “Quin’s going to kill me for talking about this. He may not even know I’m aware of it, but I’m sure he assumes. He isn’t an idiot.”

  “Aware of what?” Layla asked, trying not to sound too interested.

  “He has recurring dreams about someone named Layla,” Maeveen explained. “Always has.”

  Layla’s eyes widened as her brain sped. What? Quin has recurring dreams about her? And he never told her? Her internal rant halted, and she narrowed her eyes on Maeveen’s aura. “How do you know?”

  “Because girls talk,” Maeveen answered. “Nearly every girl he’s been with has heard him say the name Layla in his sleep. He doesn’t even try to deny it. When his women ask about it, he confirms he’s been dreaming about someone else, and he doesn’t offer too many apologies either, no explanations or excuses, nothing. If his women can’t handle it, or if they suggest he purge the dreams, he’ll bow out. The idea alone is a deal breaker.”

  Layla swished the revelation around in her head, trying not to look as shocked as she felt.

  “So are you her?” Maeveen asked, smiling like a teenage girl getting the juicy details of her best friend’s first kiss.

  “I have no idea,” Layla mumbled. “I didn’t even know there was a her.”

  “Hmm…” Maeveen hummed, filling in the details herself. “This must be why he broke Caitlyn’s heart yesterday.”

  Layla snapped her head up, ignoring the pain that shot through her neck. It was nothing compared to the cinderblock that knocked the air from her lungs. “Caitlyn?”

  “The woman he’s been dating,” Maeveen explained. “She’s a member of my coven.”

  Layla felt sick and wondered if she looked it. “I didn’t know he was dating anyone.”

  “He’s not now. Yesterday afternoon Caitlyn got home from a weekend trip to find Quin on her porch. She knew it was over the moment she saw his aura. Now I know why.”

  “That’s horrible,” Layla whispered. “Were they close?”

  Maeveen harrumphed as she leaned back, letting the rain hit her face. “Sure. They were about as close as Quin gets to any woman, but that’s not saying much.”

  Layla needed to know more, but didn’t want to add fuel to the gossip session by asking.

  As it turned out, she didn’t have to. Maeveen was more than willing to throw gas on the fire. “I think it was about a month ago that he finally asked her out, but they’ve only gotten together two or three times since. I can say with certainty he wasn’t committed, but Caitlyn has liked him for a while, and he knew that, so his interest was genuine if not long-term. I told Caitlyn it would be that way, but she already knew and wanted to give it a try. Some women never heed the warnings, you know? I wasn’t the only witch warning her about Quin, but she remained hopeful.”

  Layla nearly gagged, barely finding the ability to speak. “Why would she need warned about Quin?” She was terrified to hear the answer, and Maeveen made her sweat before giving it.

  “Because he’s a heartbreaker and always has been. He’s dated a lot of women, and they’re never good enough.”

  “He says that?” Layla gasped.

  “No,” Maeveen laughed. “Of course not. Quin would never say that, and it’s not like he purposely breaks women’s hearts. But that’s part of his appeal, isn’t it? He’s insanely smooth and can make a girl feel special while being honest about his inevitable departure. If a woman wants his attention, she has to make peace with the fact that it’s temporary, because the moment she starts hoping for a long-term relationship, he’ll cut her loose; no second chances, no hesitations. Snap, just like that.” She snapped her fingers, like the words didn’t stress her point enough. “That doesn’t stop girls from trying, though. They’re always throwing themselves at him, hoping they’ll be different, and sometimes he’ll treat one to a few amazing dates before saying so long.” She paused, grinning as she raised her eyebrows. “At least I’ve heard the dates are amazing. I’ve never been with him myself. I crushed hard on him for a while, but he never had any interest in me, so I wisely got over it.”

  Layla didn’t respond. She was too busy digesting the chest-clogging, throat-tightening, downright heartbreaking revelati
on. Her relationship with Quin had just been flipped upside down, and she had no idea how to handle it. Her insides tangled and squirmed, making it hard to breathe.

  “You’re very good at hiding things,” Maeveen noted, getting to her feet. She twisted this way and that, magically drying her backside. “I’m here to speak with Karena about the inn. It was nice meeting you.”

  “You, too,” Layla offered, keeping her eyes on her coffee.

  After counting to thirty, Layla looked up, watching Maeveen disappear into Karena’s house. Then she slowly got to her feet and dragged them home.

  What in the hell was she supposed to do now? Quin hadn’t exactly betrayed her, but he should have known better. Or had he betrayed her? She wasn’t sure. She just assumed he was single and never thought to ask. And how dumb was that? Of course he was dating someone. He was gorgeous and could literally and figuratively sweep a woman off her feet. Why on earth would he be single?

  Then there was Caitlyn, a witch who really liked Quin, had been spending time alone with him for weeks. Now she’d been rejected. Not because Quin was unhappy with her, not because he didn’t care about her, not because she was unlikable, but because someone new came along and stole his interest.

  Layla imagined Maeveen telling Caitlyn about Quin’s newest conquest, and it made her nauseous. She hated being the other woman, the outsider who ruined everything. It felt awful.

  Chest tight and aching, she refilled her coffee and shuffled to the back deck, scooting a chair beneath the overhang. The rain filled her ears with plinks, clicks and drips, but she barely registered nature’s song. She was too busy dealing with the sadness and uncertainty churning her gut. Her prince charming had a flaw, and the more she sat there and thought about it, the bigger it became.

  “Damn him,” she scorned, punching her thigh. Then she burst into tears, deciding it was as much her fault as it was his. He didn’t even kiss her until she asked him to. Maybe his relationship with Caitlyn was the reason why. Maybe he planned to end things with her first. Or maybe he only ended things with Caitlyn because Layla had thrown herself at him.

  “Damn him,” she breathed, dropping her face into her hand.

  “Layla?”

  She snapped her head up, nearly falling from her chair as Quin’s voice hit her like a hurricane. She had no idea she’d been sitting there that long. She needed more time to think before facing him. The pain was fresh, her mind was scattered, and her heart was raw, but ready or not, he was approaching from the south side of her house.

  He stepped into the backyard, and she looked in the opposite direction, trying her damnedest to conceal her aura.

  When Quin saw Layla’s beautiful haze retract, he froze mid-stride, flipping his gaze to the fingers tugging on her left sleeve.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “I don’t want to talk right now,” she returned. “You should leave.”

  Quin’s hand flew to his chest, gripping his heart as his lungs deflated. It was the first time she’d asked him to go, and it hurt like hell. He took a few tentative steps, and she flinched like he’d thrown a punch.

  “What’s going on?” he repeated, searching what was left of her aura—a river of wispy white fog hugging her trembling body. “What happened?”

  “Just go, Quin.”

  “Not until you tell me what happened.”

  “You broke your promise,” she whispered. “You’ve already broken it, and you didn’t even mean to. And that’s why promises are stupid.”

  Panic rolled Quin’s stomach as he slowly approached the deck. “What did I do?”

  “You’ve made everything harder.”

  “I don’t understand, Layla. Please look at me.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  His fingers curled into a fist as his speeding heart took another blow. “Okay, don’t look at me, but please tell me what’s going on.”

  “You were dating someone, Quin.”

  Shit. “Where did you hear that?”

  “Is it true?”

  He dropped his guilty head. “Yes.”

  “Then where I heard it isn’t an issue.”

  Shit. He didn’t know how to fix this. “None of that matters, Layla. It wasn’t a serious relationship.”

  “I understand it wasn’t serious, but if you think it doesn’t matter, you’re sadly mistaken, because it’s mattering the hell out of me.”

  “I didn’t expect you to come along,” he countered. “If I’d known you were about to walk into my life, I would have spent every waking minute waiting for you.”

  “Of course you weren’t going to sit around waiting for someone you didn’t know was coming. Who does that? But you were dishonest by not telling me about her. I had no idea about her, even when we... even when you...” Her shoulders shook as she yanked in a choppy breath. “That’s not the point. How can you expect me to be okay with this? You’ve put me in an awful position, made me face awful decisions.”

  Quin wanted to throw himself at her feet and beg her not to do this, but he knew it would serve no purpose but to make him look insane. Shit. He had to fix this. “I understand you’re upset, Layla. You have every right to be, but nothing has to change. The decisions have already been made...”

  “That’s not the point,” she snapped.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and roughly ran a hand down his face, trying to calm his frantic heart. “Then tell me what the point is.”

  For a long moment she stayed silent, trembling from head to toe as she wiped her face. Then she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “I’m so grateful for what you’ve done, Quin. You constantly go out of your way to help me, and I really do appreciate it... all of it. And I... I care about you so much, but this thing between us just seems like a bad idea now. We’ll always have the connection we made last night, which was wonderful and I’ll never regret it. But our… relationship, or whatever this is, can’t be good for us. It’s built on dishonesty and drama.” She paused, looking down at her lap. Then she abruptly stood and headed for the north side of her house. “I need to be alone right now.”

  Quin couldn’t find the strength to give her space and was right behind her. “I don’t believe that, Layla, because this relationship is good for me.”

  She didn’t respond, and his heart practically burst from his chest as it raced after the angel leaving him. “Damn it, Layla, stop.”

  He grabbed her wrist, spinning her around, and what he found nearly broke him. Swollen lids and red cheeks, and a sad gaze that dropped him lower than he’d ever been. She’d shed a river for him, and no matter how recently she wiped them away, the tears still plagued her.

  He ached to take her face in his palms and kiss the soreness away, but knew it would either piss her off or make her cry harder, so he merely squeezed her wrist. “This isn’t over, and I don’t understand why you think it has to be.”

  “Really? You don’t understand? The Unforgivables have already targeted this coven because of one rejected witch. I’m already paying for Medea’s spite, and my dad wasn’t even dating her when he met my mom. All this with you, me and... and Caitlyn, it all happened over a weekend. Boom, everyone’s flipped on their heads, and now I’m the other woman, the witch who came along and messed everything up. I hate the way it feels to be that woman, and I hate thinking about the way Caitlyn’s feeling. I’m sad for her; she’s been tossed aside. And who do you think she’s going to blame for that? This whole damn situation is entirely too familiar; and I don’t want to watch it run its course. I’ve seen what things like this can do to a family, and that’s one part of my parents’ sad history I’m not willing to repeat.” She tried to pull away, but his grip stayed firm. “That’s just one reason why this isn’t good for me, Quin. The list goes on. Now please let go.”

  He held tight, searching for a way to make her stay, but she gave him no choice. Her eyes narrowed and shifted downward, and a sizzling current of electricity shot from her wrist into his h
and.

  “Shit,” he blurted, stumbling back.

  The jolt subsided, relinquishing control of his muscles, and he raised his smoldering palm, flexing fingers around blackened flesh. Surprised and impressed by her power and accuracy, he gawked at the wound. Then he found her eyes, watching a fat teardrop fall to her cheek.

  Her face drained of color as she mouthed the words I’m sorry. Then she turned and walked away. Right before rounding the corner of the house, she spoke over her shoulder. “I’m leaving for a while. Tell my grandparents not to worry.”

  “No,” Quin shouted, heart lurching as he rushed forward, but by the time he turned the corner, she was gone.

  He shot into the air, searching ground and sky. “Layla! Please don’t do this!” No response, no aura, no body; he couldn’t spot one shimmer of evidence.

  He searched for her mind and immediately made a connection, but it felt like he’d linked to a hall of mirrors that had stolen Layla’s warm glow. Powerful yet jumbled brainwaves collided with his, bouncing at him from every direction as he tried to communicate and locate.

  “Layla!”

  No answer; and the unreliable mind connection quickly faded.

  “Shit.”

  She’d left him… left because of him. Now she was in grave danger. Shit, shit, shit.

  He scanned the earth and sky once more, finding nothing. Then he flew to Caitrin and Morrigan’s, his heart hurting like hell and drowning in guilt.

  Chapter 19

  ANGRIER AT HERSELF THAN EVER before, Layla flew toward what she hoped was Cannon Beach, tears raining from her burning eyes.

  Sickened by what she’d done to Quin, crushed by what her existence was doing to the coven, and defeated by her lack of control, she overflowed with regret, like she might burst any second and bleed her accountability on the treetops. She was a passenger on a frightening rollercoaster, and the grim reaper was at the switchboard, surely laughing with wicked delight as he pulled levers and pushed buttons.

  She flew west for about twenty minutes before finding the ocean. Then she followed the coast south until she spied Haystack Rock—a giant, basalt rock signaling the shoreline of Cannon Beach.