Impassion (Mystic)

by B. C. Burgess

“Oh,” she breathed, smiling despite her concern. “That’s good to know, but I don’t want to upset our families.”

  “Why would they be upset?”

  “You said they’d be disappointed in you for kissing me.”

  “Only because they didn’t want me making things harder on you.”

  “So it won’t make them uncomfortable? Seeing us together?”

  “They already know how I feel about you,” he answered. “They’ve seen it in my aura, so they expect us to walk onto the lawn together. On the other hand, they would find it weird if we walked out there and went our separate ways.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we don’t hide things around here. There’s no point. Our auras give us away. If you and I try to conceal our relationship, they’ll just think it’s foolish we’re bothering. What we feel will be obvious whether we’re standing next to each other or across the lawn from each other.”

  “I see. So you’ll stay with me?”

  He smiled and kissed her red cheek. “Until you ask me to go.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I beg that you don’t.” He kissed her other cheek. “What else can I do to make your evening easier?”

  “Just having you next to me will help.”

  “Beautiful music to my blessed ears.” He kissed her nose then her lips. “Now, are you ready to meet your family, or would you like to wait a while?”

  “Um...” She looked down, chewing her lip again. “Maybe I should change.”

  Quin lowered her feet to the ground and stepped back, running his gaze down her body. “I don’t see why. You look stunning; the most beautiful thing I’ve seen, and I’ve seen a lot of beautiful things.”

  She blushed and whirled a toe in the grass. “You don’t think this shirt is... inappropriate?”

  He laughed and stepped forward, sweeping her off her feet. “Why would I find that shirt inappropriate?”

  “Well, it’s revealing.”

  “This?” he asked, lowering his mouth to her cleavage. It was barely any; far less than he was used to, but the flushing flesh got his blood pumping like never before. He softly ran his lips across what little he could see. Then he straightened and found her face. “You look beautiful, Layla, not the least bit inappropriate, and you’ll see that for yourself when you step out there.”

  She remained bright red, so he decided to tease her. “Or, if you’d like, I could carry you out there. Then everyone will know right away how I feel about you.” He turned toward the side of the house. “I could take you from person to person, introducing you as my Layla Love.”

  She grinned and touched one of his dimples. “Stop teasing.”

  “Who says I’m teasing?” he countered, taking a few steps. “I’m going to introduce you to my family.”

  “No!” she blurted, clutching his shoulder.

  “Why not?” he asked, taking another step.

  “Don’t you dare, Quin. That would be embarrassing.”

  Another step. “Not for me.”

  Her grip tightened as her spine straightened. “If you don’t stop walking, I’ll... I’ll...”

  “You’ll what?” he asked, laughing at her panic as he took a few more steps.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw her move, and before he could look over, her mouth was on his neck. He froze as her soft lips stretched across tight flesh. Then he forced himself to relax so she could suck him in.

  “Mmm...” he mumbled. “You’re good. I’ll never be able to compete with you.”

  Her lips came together then swept back and forth across charged skin. “At least I have the edge in one area,” she approved, smiling up at him.

  “You have it in all of them,” he assured. “Now, are you ready to walk out there?”

  “Yes, but I need to use the bathroom first. I don’t want to have to turn right back around.”

  “Good thinking,” he agreed, carrying her up the deck stairs and through the back door. When he reached her bedroom, he lowered her feet to the floor and gave her a kiss. “I’ll use the other one. See you in a second.”

  Layla watched him disappear into the spare bathroom. Then she turned into the bedroom, unable to stifle her cheesy smile or calm her fluttering heart.

  Chapter 13

  Layla steeled herself for the meet and greet as she washed her hands, but her knees remained weak when she walked to the hallway.

  Quin straightened from the wall, and his aura swallowed her—emerald ribbons floating through forest green rivers.

  “Stop worrying about me,” she insisted. “I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re nervous.”

  “Yes, and I’m sure I’ll spend the entire night blushing, but I can’t help it and neither can you.”

  He slid his hand under her hair and took the back of her neck, tilting her face up. “Your blush is beautiful.”

  His mouth found hers, and her heart jolted as her bottom lip trembled around a whoosh of air.

  “There’s that beautiful blush now,” he added, sliding his lips to her cheek.

  Sensitive nerve endings twitched and tickled, and an embarrassing laugh burst from her mouth into his chin. His lips paused on the tip of her nose, curving toward deep dimples. Then he dipped her into a passionate kiss.

  When he pulled her upright, she rested her forehead to his chest while trying to catch her breath. “If you keep doing stuff like that, I’ll never make it onto the lawn.”

  “We can cancel dinner and stay inside,” he offered, slipping his fingers beneath the shoulder of her shirt.

  “Yeah right,” she smirked. “Disappointing my grandparents like that is not an option. Daleen and Morrigan glowed like the sun when I agreed to this.”

  He abandoned her shirt and stepped back. “Then you’re ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Taking her hand, he led her to the front door; and while she found comfort in his warm palm, her heart rate was on the rise.

  “Your fingers are going to fall off if you don’t give them some blood,” he advised, touching the inside of her wrist.

  She looked at the hand clutching his, finding white fingers. “Sorry.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he pressed.

  “Yeah,” she insisted, trying to steady her lungs. “It’s going to be great, right?”

  “Right,” he confirmed, offering a reassuring smile.

  Layla took a deep breath as he reached out. Then she slowly exhaled as he opened the door. He gave her a nudge onto the porch, and her lungs refilled with a gasp as she stumbled to a standstill, pausing on the fringe of a scene that transcended the most fantastic fairy tales.

  Surrounded by gorgeous houses and majestic trees, twenty-six glowing magicians mingled on the lawn, their happy voices and cheerful laughter filling the clearing with music so serene it soothed the soul. Wearing dresses or skirts and beaming with unmistakable confidence, the women moved like liquid among muscular men, who anticipated every turn of the feminine current with attitudes as laidback as their carefree clothes. Exuding an air of charisma, mystery and magnetism, not one of them wore shoes, and every move their active bodies made was executed with calm grace.

  Layla found her grandparents, easily picking them out by their bonded lights, which shone a little brighter than the rest of the emblazoned hazes. She smiled and waved at them, and they beamed as they waved back.

  Layla scanned the lawn, looking for another set of bonded lights, but she couldn’t find them. “Where are your parents?” she asked.

  “Dad’s next to Caitrin,” Quin answered, “and mom’s the blond by the dinner table. Their bonded lights are dulled by the distance between them.”

  Layla looked for his dad first, and immedi
ately made eye contact.

  Damn. She quickly dropped her gaze as her stomach flipped and her cheeks burned. She didn’t expect him to be watching. Now she felt rude because she couldn’t look back. Instead, she looked for Quin’s mom, who was also watching. Damn.

  Layla swallowed a lump and looked down, struggling to catch the breath they’d stolen with their curious stares. She didn’t blame them for their intrigue. Aside from the obvious reasons everyone else had, they probably wanted to know what had kept their son so busy over the weekend. Layla truly hoped they weren’t already disappointed by what they’d seen.

  A loud laugh grabbed her attention and she looked up, watching three people zoom into the air, halt, then take off again, racing one another around the clearing. Their details diminished as they picked up speed, turning into colorful blurs, which soared two laps before pulling upright.

  As the trio turned and descended to earth, Layla realized two of them were her cousins who worked at Cinnia’s café—Brietta and Banning. The third was an unknown witch around Banning’s age—seventeen.

  Layla smiled as she watched them cross the lawn. Then she noticed they were headed her way and grew antsy. Apparently three years of loneliness had cursed her with a case of social anxiety. Quin stretched his fingers, carefully entwining them with hers, and she squeezed, glad she had someone holding her in place when she was so tempted to run.

  Banning reached the rose garden and quickened his pace, half-jumping half-flying onto the porch. Layla blinked, but stood firm, unsurprised by the enthusiastic approach.

  “Hey, Layla,” he greeted, a rambunctious ring to his fully matured voice.

  Comforted by his youthful attitude, Layla smiled. “Hi, Bann.”

  “You look nice,” he offered.

  “Thanks,” she returned, cheeks growing warm.

  He flashed a bright smile then flipped his baby blues to Quin. “Who won? Bri thinks she’s the goddess of the skies and beat us by a mile… Ow!” He shook his hand and glanced over his shoulder. “Damn, sis.”

  Nearly as hyper as her brother, Brietta bounded onto the porch and grabbed his hand. “That’s what you get for telling lies,” she scolded, but it sounded more like a song. She examined his palm then threw it down. “I didn’t hurt you. It was a teeny, tiny shock. Hi, Layla. It’s good to see you again.”

  “You, too,” Layla offered, mesmerized by Brietta’s multicolored, green eyes, just like the first time she’d seen them. She’d been in line at Cinnia’s Café in Cannon Beach—following the trail of bread crumbs her dad left her—when she’d come face-to-face with her first witch. “Should I call you Bri or Brietta?”

  “Either way. Sorry about the weird looks at the café the other night. I was shocked and really confused.”

  “I know the feeling,” Layla quipped.

  Brietta laughed, loudly and beautifully. “I bet. Anyway, we’re glad you’re here.” She wrinkled her nose and elbowed Banning in the ribs. “I need some competition in the air. Bann’s falling behind.”

  “You’re full of it,” Banning argued, ruffling her blond hair. “Tell her, Quin. Deflate this huge head of hers.”

  “Can’t do it,” Quin refused. “It wasn’t by a mile, but there’s no doubt she won.”

  “Ha,” Brietta taunted.

  Banning scowled and pulled her into a headlock. “Quin and Layla need to fly up there and serve you some humble pie.”

  He let go, and Brietta came up laughing. “Quin doesn’t count, but I might have a chance against the newbie. What do you say, Layla? Wanna race?”

  “Oh,” Layla mumbled, stomach somersaulting. She didn’t think she could make herself fly in front of all these people if her life depended on it.

  She was about to stutter a lame refusal when Quin cut in. “Not right now, Bri, but soon enough, so start practicing humble defeat.”

  “Tough to do when I’m racing slowpoke,” Brietta replied, jabbing her brother again.

  “Don’t forget Sky,” Quin countered, nodding toward the witch on the stairs. “I think she’s found her wings.”

  At the mention of her name, the witch leapt onto the porch. “Thanks, Quin.” She turned toward Layla, smiling as she held out a hand. “Hi, Layla. I’m Skyla Mochrie—Quin’s cousin.”

  Skyla, of course, was very pretty, the kind of girl all the boys want to date but can’t find the guts to ask out. Alternating between soft spirals and smooth strands, her hair looked like a waterfall of cinnamon and sugar, but her most noticeable feature was her inky blue eyes. Almond shaped and framed by long, glittering lashes, they were huge, like an endless night sky.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Skyla,” Layla returned, shifting her attention to the birds on her shoulders. Both had bright yellow heads, but one had a lime-green body while the other was turquoise.

  “Call me Sky,” she insisted. “These are my parakeets—Blue and LaLa.”

  “They’re beautiful,” Layla mumbled, in awe of their tame nature.

  “Thank you,” Skyla replied. Then she looked at Quin and pointed a thumb at Brietta and Banning. “So you think I have a chance against these two?”

  “Bann needs to worry,” Quin answered, “but catching Bri will take some work.”

  “Come on, man,” Banning argued. “Us guys have to stick together against these pixies.”

  “Not this time,” Quin countered. “Sky was less than a foot behind you.”

  “That’s because I carry more weight,” Banning claimed.

  Skyla giggled and poked his hard stomach. “Yeah you do, fatty.”

  In a flash of movement, Banning grabbed Skyla around the waist and tucked her under his arm. “Rematch time,” he challenged, shooting off the porch.

  Brietta laughed at Skyla’s flailing legs then turned back to Layla. “Sure you don’t want to join?”

  “It looks like fun,” Layla replied, “but I need more practice before joining a race. Besides, I still have a lot of people to meet before dinner.”

  “I guess you do. That’s okay. We have plenty of time. I’m excited you’re here. Sky’s great, but it will be nice having a witch closer to my age around.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty, so we should have lots in common. We’ll have to hang out soon.”

  “Definitely,” Layla agreed.

  Brietta grinned then glanced over her shoulder. “Guess I’ll let you get on with it. See you in a bit.” She flipped backward off the porch, landing on the walkway for a split second. Then she shot into the air, joining Banning and Skyla for another race.

  Layla laughed at her sprightly exit then smiled at Quin. “They seem like fun.”

  “They are,” he confirmed. “Are you ready to meet the others?”

  “Sure. Let’s see my grandparents first then go from there.”

  “Good plan,” he agreed, leading her down the stairs.

  As they approached Layla’s grandparents, the four of them stood and walked forward, accompanied by a fat, silver cat and a droopy basset hound.

  “Hi, sweetie,” Morrigan beamed, pulling Layla into a hug. “You look lovely this evening.”

  “Thank you,” Layla replied, turning toward Daleen, who also pulled her in.

  “I’m so excited for you,” Daleen whispered. “This night is going to be so special.”

  Layla smiled at her then moved to her grandfathers, standing up straight as she glanced between them. Not until she was within their reach did it occur to her how much she’d missed them.

  “Hey,” she greeted, “I missed you guys today.”

  Caitrin stepped forward and wrapped her in strong arms. “We missed you, too, sweetheart. Morrigan tells me you’re the most amazing witch she’s ever seen. I hear you made hard things look simple.”

  “Mo
rrigan’s opinion is biased, but I think I did okay.”

  “From what I hear, okay doesn’t cut it.”

  “Of course it doesn’t,” Serafin agreed.

  Layla turned and wrapped Serafin’s waist in a tight hug. “Your opinion is biased, too.”

  “Yes it is,” he confessed, giving her a gentle squeeze.

  He let go, and Morrigan stepped forward, taking Layla’s shoulders. “Let me introduce you to some of our coven members.”

  “Okay,” Layla agreed, gluing her smile in place.

  They faced the nearby chairs, and Morrigan pointed to the first person on the left. “This is Kemble Kavanagh—Quinlan’s dad.”

  Kemble stood and stepped forward, smiling as his warm hand enveloped Layla’s. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Layla. We’ve been waiting a long time for the opportunity.”

  Not only did Layla recognize Kemble from her parents’ memories, but by his similarities to his son—dark hair, dark eyes, and fetching dimples.

  “I feel like I’ve already met you,” she confessed. “I saw you in my parents’ memories.”

  “I’m honored,” Kemble replied, intently searching her face. Then he glanced at Caitrin. “She is a little piece of Rhosewen, isn’t she?”

  “More than a little,” Caitrin confirmed.

  “Rhosewen was a special witch,” Kemble added, finding Layla’s eyes. “We’re blessed to have her daughter with us at last.”

  “I feel blessed to be here,” Layla replied, and she meant it. She remained nervous, but her heart filled with wonder and warmth as she looked into eyes that witnessed so much of her mom’s life.

  “I’ll let you move on to the others,” Kemble offered, “before their patience runs dry.”

  “I should get on with it,” she agreed. “Or we’ll be here until morning. There are literally dozens of you.”

  Several people laughed, and Kemble gently squeezed her shoulder. “There’s always room for more, particularly one as lovely as you. Welcome home, dear.”