Impassion

by B. C. Burgess

  He kissed the nape of her neck as she opened her eyes and gasped in the view. They stood on the edge of a tall cliff, with the black ocean glittering below, a storm brewing on the horizon, and a silver moon dangling high in the sky.

  Layla instantly recognized the scene, but it took a few seconds of wonderment to figure out why. “I had a dream about this place!”

  His lips left her neck as he straightened. “You did?”

  “Yes, the night I turned twenty-one. I was standing just like this.” She paused as a blush heated her cheeks. “Only… I didn’t have any clothes on and no one else was there, but everything else was the same.”

  “Sounds like a good dream,” he murmured, lowering his mouth.

  Lightning illuminated distant clouds as the tip of his tongue slipped over the nape of her neck, and goose bumps consumed tingling flesh. “It felt the same, too,” she recalled, “like I was charged.”

  “Are you cold?”

  “No. It feels great.” Her hot blood contradicted the cold wind, spiking her adrenaline.

  Quin slid his kisses to her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I love it,” she corrected. “I can’t believe I’m here. I was so disappointed when I woke up from that dream. I remember thinking I could walk off the cliff and fly to the moon, and I felt no fear of testing the theory, but I woke up too soon.”

  “Hmm... I bet you’re a natural soothsayer.”

  “A what?”

  “A soothsayer, someone who communes with ethereal energy to foresee the future.”

  “There was something about that in my parents’ memories,” she mumbled. Then she remembered. “It didn’t work. The soothsayers couldn’t help them.”

  “Even the best soothsayers can’t guarantee their predictions,” Quin explained. “The magic is fairly easy, but the results are unpredictable and often flawed.”

  “Easy?” she repeated. “Yeah right.”

  “I’m serious. Most of us can summon hazy premonitions if we devote ourselves to the task, and some omens have a habit of hitting anyone in their path.”

  “Then why are we having such a hard time tracking down the Unforgivables?”

  “Your grandparents have tried to summon useful visions, but there are several people involved, and a lot of decisions that need to be made. Furthermore, there are ways magicians can block their intentions from those who seek them, including the ethereal souls who guide our visions.”

  “Ethereal souls? Like dead people?”

  “You could say that,” he answered, smiling at her doubt.

  Layla felt the conversation diving deeper than she wanted to go, so she leaned into him and smiled at the moon. “This is wonderful, Quin. Thank you for making my dream come true.”

  “My pleasure.” He kissed her cheek then straightened and moved to her side. “Would you like to play with magic? Take a few shots of post-power euphoria?”

  “Yes,” she agreed, body tingling more intensely. “What kind of magic would you like to see?”

  “Let’s work on your elemental magic, see if any of them suit you better than the others. Are you cold?”

  “Yeah, but it feels great. How should I start?”

  “How about I start, and you try to match me?”

  She tore her eyes from the moon and smiled at him. “Are you turning this into a contest?”

  “No. You’d beat me at my own game. If not tonight, soon enough. I just thought I’d give you a better idea of what to try.”

  “Oh. Good thinking. You go first.”

  He laughed as he lifted a palm toward the sky, and the wind picked up, tickling Layla’s scalp.

  “You’re starting off easy,” she accused, raising a palm, and the wind blew harder, whipping her curls into tangles.

  Quin smirked as he pointed toward the distant storm, and a flash of lightning cut through the air, striking much closer than the other bolts.

  Layla’s mouth fell open as her hair follicles bristled. “I didn’t know we could do that.”

  “We can summon storms out of nothing if we want, but our coven doesn’t. We try not to make large impacts on earth’s natural progression, and the only place we make small impacts is within our community, with Alula’s blessing of course.”

  “Alula?”

  “The goddess of flora…”

  Layla held up a palm, signaling him to stop. “Not right now.”

  He zipped his smiling lips, and she pointed toward the flashing storm clouds, pulling three bolts of lightning closer to the cliff. They simultaneously struck sea and sky, provoking a loud clash of thunder that rumbled the ground, and Quin laughed as he shook his head.

  “You’re already showing me up.”

  “You could have done that,” she countered. “You’re just taking it easy on me.”

  “Then I’ll have to upgrade my spells.”

  He waved a hand around his head, but nothing happened, and for several seconds Layla watched their surroundings in confusion. Right as she was about to comment on the lack of magic, small white blooms danced in on summoned wind, creating a cyclone around her and Quin.

  “Pretty,” she commended, spinning in a circle.

  She came to a halt and took his hand, recalling the tenacious wildflower every walk through Oregon’s forests had yielded. It was the same species of flora Quin’s stick man picked to prove magic does exist. Layla knew there had to be a slew of them nearby, so she waved a hand then waited, hoping the magic would work.

  Several anticipatory seconds later, a barrage of yellow, red and blue petals floated from the timber, joining the white blooms to create a colorful tornado. Layla snatched a blue petal from the air. Then she transformed it into an entire flower and handed it to Quin, unable to stifle her pride.

  “Show off,” he teased, turning the single flower into an entire bouquet before handing it back.

  “You’re one to talk,” she laughed, fiddling with soft petals. “So what are the rules about making something that doesn’t already exist? I’ve seen you create flowers, yet you carry dishes in your bag.”

  “That’s a good question,” he replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Give me a second to figure out the best way to answer.”

  Layla played with her flowers as she waited, happily tucked into his warm side.

  “Okay,” he began, “I’ll try to keep it short, but I should start by telling you there aren’t any laws in the magical world, because there isn’t a system to enforce them. Obviously the hexless lack laws pertaining to magic, and even if they did have rules applicable to our lifestyles, they would have no hope of enforcing them. As for magicians upholding magical law, it’s a bad idea. We would destroy more lives than we would save if we tried to govern one another. Imagine giving magical ability to all the elected officials in the hexless world, both corrupt and honorable, and you’ll understand why. If we let other people rule over us with a magical fist, corruption will inevitably follow, and it would turn into a mess that would affect everyone. So, if I want to create a plate, I can, and nobody has a legal right to stop me. But our family has guidelines we choose to live by, and creating objects that don’t harmonize with nature is a power we avoid, because once you create something, it’s here to stay. We can transfer it somewhere else, or we can alter it, but we can’t undo it. The things we vanish go somewhere, and it’s our responsibility to make sure they go somewhere appropriate. Therefore, our family only creates objects that can be discarded in an environmentally sound way.” He paused, grinning as he raised his eyebrows. “We wouldn’t want to anger Alula.”

  “Right,” Layla smirked, “Alula. So the rule is there are no rules?”

  “That makes it sound like anarchy, but yeah, basically.”

  “But if magicians can do whatever they want and get away with it, how is it not anarchy?”

  “Because most of us are peaceful, and even more of us are grateful for what we have and respectful of other peo
ples’ space and ideals. Even covens with less than admirable traits tend to steer clear of those who don’t share their beliefs. Magicians have it easy when it comes to everyday living. Our powers bless us beyond belief, creating calm and satisfied lifestyles. We don’t need more, but we won’t yield what we have, so we’re quick to protect ourselves and our neighbors, and we guard our right to live in peace with a fierceness no lawman or judicial system can match. Because of that, Agro and his dogs are the minority, and if we value this world, we must keep it that way.”

  Layla contemplated this for several seconds, thinking about how much the moment she was in contrasted with the world Agro was in. A huge part of her wished she could remain swept away with Quin, ignoring the rest of the world and all its problems, but she didn’t think her bleeding heart would ever allow such a reprieve, so she vowed to embrace the relief Quin provided like it was her last dose.

  She smiled at him then tossed the wildflowers into the air. As the bouquet broke apart, the flowers transformed into bright blue butterflies.

  Layla watched them with wide eyes, proud and amazed, and Quin watched them with his mouth hanging open. He reached out, compelling a butterfly to perch on his palm. Then he pulled it close for an examination.

  “Amazing,” he breathed, looking at Layla. “How did you do that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you know the anatomy of a butterfly?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I like them. I did a biology report my sophomore year for extra credit. So that was okay? Creating them?”

  “That was fantastic,” he commended, sending the butterfly to play. “There’s a long standing debate on the morality of it, but if done right, I see no harm in creating a creature that wouldn’t otherwise get the chance to live. It’s extremely difficult, though. Not only does it require advanced magic, it requires advanced brains and uncommon knowledge. Amazing,” he repeated, shaking his head.

  “Do you think they’ll die?” she asked, suddenly questioning her morality.

  “Of course they’ll die,” he answered, “but whether it’s sooner or later, they lived longer than they would have without you.”

  “I guess that’s true.”

  “They’re beautiful,” he soothed, kissing her cheek, “and the world is a better place with them in it.”

  He turned back to the ocean, and the flowers and butterflies drifted away. “Apparently you have no problem with earth and air. Would you like to play with the water now?”

  “Yes,” she answered, following his gaze to the ocean. The cliff rose at least a hundred feet above waves, and she stared over the edge, wondering what possibilities lay in wait with a sea at their disposal.

  A large swell crashed against the rock below, but instead of receding, it rushed up the cliff face and softly splashed over the ledge, misting them with freezing water.

  “That’s crazy,” she exclaimed, scooting closer to the edge. “I want to try.”

  “Go for it, but don’t try too hard or you’ll soak us, and it’s not time for that yet.”

  “Yet?” she asked, flipping her gaze to his.

  He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t respond, so Layla smirked as she looked at the waves. “Ready?”

  “Yep,” he answered, leaning over to watch.

  A frothy wave crashed into dark stone then flowed upward, lapping over the ledge to drown their feet.

  Layla laughed and wiggled her toes in icy liquid. With each amazing feat she accomplished, the thrilling tingles intensified and her enthusiasm doubled. “That was wonderful. But it’s a good thing we don’t wear shoes. I hate wet shoes.”

  “You could dry them now.”

  “That’s true, but this is way better.” She brought another wave to their perch. Then she jumped and splashed in the water, giggling at her immaturity.

  Quin laughed with her, wanting to scoop her up and kiss her all over. When she managed to let go of her insecurities and worries, she had the most amazing spark for life, and it turned him on in ways he never imagined. She was the most spirited witch he’d ever met, innocently and honestly so. When she allowed it, she could be purely uninhibited, and even under full exposure she maintained her angelic shine. For her to bare it all was nothing short of divine. To lay eyes and ears and hands on her when she revealed the depths of her soul was an unparalleled phenomenon. She was a sea of emotions; she bathed in them, but they showered him, dousing him in the realization that she could be as happy as she could be sad. Both emotions grabbed hold and ran away with her, forcing her to ride out the pain or embrace the pleasure. He understood why, and found it to be one of his favorite things about her. She could love, hurt and enjoy life more than anyone else he knew, and while it made for an emotional roller coaster, the benefits were well worth the ride.

  She looked at him—her smile brilliant and natural, her round eyes wide and sparkling with vim—and his lungs froze as his heart stopped. He already knew he could spend the rest of his life with her. He’d loved her longer than he’d known her. But at that moment, he realized he was utterly in love with her.

  His lungs refilled as his heart began beating, but the organ had grown, and it thumped harder than ever before. This woman held his life in her delicate hands, and he never wanted her to stop clutching him. The fact that he’d known her less than a week didn’t concern him, but it did excite him. What she’d done to him in five short days was incredible, life-altering... heavenly. He couldn’t imagine what possibilities lay in wait. He had to find out and would do everything in his power to make sure he got the chance. That would be his purpose in life—to keep this woman wanting him, and to keep her life from being taken away from him. Nothing else mattered in comparison.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her smile melting away.

  “Nothing,” he answered, shaking his head clear. “I was just admiring you.”

  “Oh.” Her gaze shifted to his aura. “I guess you like what you see?”

  He hesitated to tell the whole truth, but if he was anything at all, he was a man who said what he felt, and this was the strongest feeling he’d ever experienced.

  He pulled her against him then took her cheeks, training her eyes on his. “I love what I see, Layla.”

  “Oh,” she breathed, her lips puckering into a perfect little o.

  He kissed it, not giving her a chance to respond. When he pulled away, he stayed close, making sure she didn’t feel trapped.

  “Quin, I... that’s...”

  He quickly stopped her struggle with another kiss, then another. “You don’t have to say anything,” he assured. “Just let me say it, and let me kiss you. That’s more than I deserve.”

  “But I...”

  He pulled her into another kiss, keeping her there longer than before.

  Layla did love him. She’d known it to be true the moment she faced living without him. But she couldn’t form the words in her head without feeling like an idiot, so how was she supposed to deliver the proclamation from fumbling lips?

  He pulled away, and she kept her mouth shut, smiling through her blush.

  Approval lit his features as he gave her another kiss. Then he took her hand and turned toward the ocean. “So, we’ve worked them all but fire. I might be able to give you some competition with this element.”

  Her sealed lips broke apart with a grin. “Are you challenging me?”

  “Just to a friendly competition. I doubt there will be a loser.”

  “Okay, I accept, but you have to give me a break, because I don’t know my limitations.”

  “You’re limitless. My only advice is to try to avoid burning down the forest.”

  “I’ll do my best to keep the fire that way,” she laughed, pointing toward the moon.

  “Do you want me to go first?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she answered. “I’ll try to do what you do.”

  “I’ll start simple,” he offered, holding out a hand, and fireball a
bout the size of a recliner shot from his palm, soaring several yards before losing height and succumbing to the sea.

  Layla grinned and squared her shoulders. She hadn’t made a fireball that big yet, but she was confident she could make one bigger. She held out a hand, squinting as she built the fire in her head. Then she popped her lids up and exhaled. A burning sphere twice as big as his shot from her palm, and it traveled twice the distance his had before falling to the water.

  Layla wiggled, body pulsing with pleasurable heat, and Quin smirked as he cocked an eyebrow.

  “You’re not making this fair,” he noted. “Maybe you should go first.”

  “I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

  He glanced at the air around her then found her face. “I’ll go first one more time. Then it’s your turn to lead.”

  “Deal.”

  He raised his hand, and a flame bigger than a Volkswagen burst from his palm, but rather than soar to sea, it stopped twenty feet away and formed a heart. With a flick of his wrist, several small puffs of fire zoomed toward the middle of the heart then converged to spell Layla’s name.

  She grinned at him then shot her own fire into the heart, twisting the flames into his name and placing it below hers.

  She tilted her head and tapped her lip. Then she reached way out and swept her hand in a large circle. Seven gold fireballs shot toward the outer edges of the heart then transformed into flaming phoenixes, their blazing beaks hissing and crackling as they circled the symbol.

  Quin grinned at her then turned back to their creation, raising his hand once more. The biggest fireball Layla had ever seen shot from his palm, its flames electric blue. Then the sphere separated, forming three giant Pegasus with wingspans stretching at least ten feet. The powerful trio galloped and flapped until they reached the heart. Then they soared in the opposite direction of the blazing mythical birds.

  “Wow,” Layla breathed, resting her cheek on his bicep. “Do you get to see stuff like this all the time?”

  “I’ve never seen a fire display this beautiful,” he replied. “We make a good team.”

  “I agree. It will be fun to see what else we can to do together.”