The Bond

by B. C. Burgess

  He reached for her face, and she closed her eyes, letting tingles flood her nerve-endings as his fingertips drifted across her forehead and down her nose, coming to a rest on her pulsing lips.

  “That's a beautiful solution, my love, and if that's what you want, that's what we'll do. When it's safe enough.”

  She opened her eyes and managed a smile. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Layla.”

  “So we're going home?”

  He hesitated then sighed. “I don't know. It's a big risk, and I'm not as ready as you are to take it.”

  “I don't want to leave. I'd rather stay and face the danger.”

  “We're talking about our lives, Layla.”

  “We're not helpless, Quin. We're the exact opposite of helpless. You and I can do anything we set our minds on. Surely we stand a good chance against anything they can throw at us.”

  “You want to face them?”

  “Only if we have to.”

  “If we don't leave, we'll have to face them.”

  “Then that's what we'll do.”

  “Layla...”

  “No, Quin. I don't want to hide. I don't know much now, but if you help me, I'll be able to defend myself better than anyone else in the world. The last thing I want is for one of us to get hurt, but we're not weak. We can live without hiding like meek rabbits.”

  “I don't know if we can.”

  She huffed and straightened her shoulders, her jaw set, her chin tilted. “We can. Finley lived in the magical world without being hunted, so can we.”

  Quin's eyes flashed as his voice hardened. “Finley did it all wrong.”

  The pain and anger in his aura tugged on Layla’s heart, but she held firm. “He did do it wrong, but we'll do it right. He was crazy, but he made a valid point beneath the nonsense. Why is our power punishing us? Obviously I don't believe I should get everything handed to me, but I shouldn't have everything taken away either.”

  Quin stood silent for a long moment, and Layla could tell he was reading her, trying to decide if he had a chance at changing her mind. “What are we going to do about Agro?”

  She shrugged. “Let him find me. What can he do? He'll never be able to sway my loyalties, and there won't be any children for him to take. I'm no longer his perfect treasure.”

  “If he can't use you, he'll kill you. He might slaughter everyone in sight when he realizes you’re bonded and there’s nothing for him to gain by it.”

  “Well, we can't have that, can we?”

  “No, we definitely cannot.”

  She searched for answers, but came up with nothing. “I’m still not hiding, so let’s figure out a solution.” She pulled Quin to the sofa and urged him to sit. Then she made herself comfortable on his lap as she looked at the others. “Any ideas?”

  The women watched her with bloodshot eyes, a result of the tears they'd shed for her desperate situation, and the men watched her with wrinkled brows, still shocked by her stubbornness. Layla watched them right back, determined to get her way.

  After a full minute ticked by with no answer, she dropped her gaze and played with Quin’s fingers. “When was the last time someone tried to kill Agro?”

  Their silence stretched; the sad hues in their auras growing bolder.

  Layla kissed Quin’s pinky then moved to the next finger. “Is anyone going to answer me?”

  Serafin caved and cleared his throat. “It's been twenty-nine years since the last group, but I’m sure there have been individual attempts.”

  “How many in the group?”

  “Around forty. They tracked down his camp and invaded it.”

  “Any survivors?”

  “No.”

  Layla had showered Quin's left hand in kisses, so she laid it in her lap and took the other. “Tell me about the group. Was it a coven?”

  A quiet moment passed, and Layla thought they were going to refuse to answer, but then Serafin sighed and came to the rescue. “They were from five different covens that had suffered losses at Agro's hands. They wanted revenge, so their strongest joined together and planned for several months before marching to their deaths.”

  “When you say their strongest, how strong were they?”

  “Above average, but if you're asking if any of them had bonded powers, the answer is no.”

  “No bonded children?”

  “No, but Agro does have bonded children.”

  “A lot of them?”

  “Too many.”

  “But they lead the other groups, right? They're not with him.”

  “Many of them lead other troops, yes, but the outfit he travels with consists of his strongest soldiers and a handful of bonded children. He usually has a few sets of twins on hand as well.”

  “Twins?”

  “Yes. Multiples are more powerful than singles. They absorb a fraction of each other's ability while still in the womb. Much like bonding, but not as potent.”

  “Oh.” She was playing with Quin's forefinger now, and she smiled as she kissed it. “Do you guys want to see something cool?”

  Everyone looked at her like she was crazy, and she laughed as she looked at Quin, who stared back with an odd mixture of admiration and dread. Her laugh abruptly died, but her smile stayed in place as she reached for a hidden dimple. “Want to show them our new trick?”

  “Sure,” he agreed, taking her hand. Then he kissed her finger and looked at the others. “Layla's brilliant and taught me a new trick, and she did it before we bonded, so I can't imagine what she'll teach me next. Go for it, angel.”

  Her smile stretched as she licked her lips and held up his hand, and everyone intently watched her touch his forefinger. His chest expanded with a deep, slow breath, and Layla could tell he was pleased by the sensation of her fire. His flame-free hand crept into her hair as he reached up with the other. Then a grape-sized fireball unfurled from his fingertip.

  The others watched and waited for the new trick, and Layla giggled as she glanced at Quin. He laughed as well. Then he hugged her to his chest and looked at their family. “That was her fire, not mine.”

  “What?” they exclaimed.

  “Yep,” Quin confirmed. “Layla decided she wanted to combine our fire spells before they left our bodies, so she filled me with her fire, like it was the easiest thing in the world to do.”

  Serafin stood and moved closer. “She didn't burn you?”

  “Nope. The temperature of my skin doesn't change, and the inside merely warms up.” He held out his hand for Serafin to examine, then took it back. “I can add my own fire to hers for a stronger effect. Do it again, love. Just the fingertip. We don't want to burn down Karena’s best room.”

  “No we don't,” she agreed, touching her forefinger to his.

  He added his own magic then pushed the combined spell from his fingertip, creating a fireball almost twice the size as the one before. “That was about sixty percent hers; forty percent mine.”

  Serafin took Quin’s hand and closely eyed the spot Layla had touched. Then he handed it to Caitrin so he could do the same.

  “Are you sure it's her fire?” Caitrin asked.

  “Positive,” Quin answered. “Let her show you.”

  “Ooh fun,” Layla approved, reaching for Caitrin’s hand.

  He let her take it, and she eagerly watched his face while touching his forefinger. When her fire found him, his eyes widened and his aura pulsed. “I can't believe this.”

  “Cast it,” she insisted.

  He did, marveling at the flame that rolled from his flesh. “How did you figure out you could do that?”

  “I just tried it, and it worked.”

  “Let her show you, Serafin.”

  Caitrin moved aside, and Serafin took his place, letting Layla repeat the process. “Amazing,” he praised, flashing a broad smile.

  “Thanks,” she returned. “Does everyone want to feel?”

  Those still in their seats replied with a resounding yes, so Layla kisse
d Quin's jaw then rose from his lap. One by one she placed magic into fingertips, and one by one tiny fireballs were flipped into the air. When she got back to Quin, she reclaimed his lap and picked up his wrist, placing all five fingers to his.

  “I want to try something,” she said, filling his hand with fire. Then she let go, but kept her mind on the flames. “It’s still there, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Layla looked away and slowly scanned the room, focusing on the calming palette, the open floor plan, and the pretty art adorning the walls – anything but the magical fire in Quin’s hand.

  “How about now?” she asked, returning her gaze to his. “Still there?”

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I stopped focusing on it, but I guess it won't go away until it's shot. You probably shouldn't add your own to that,” she warned, glancing at his hand.

  He smirked and raised his palm, shooting a fireball about a foot in diameter toward the ceiling. The flames fizzled before getting there, and Quin quickly waved a hand, vanishing the smoke before it hit the alarm.

  “Amazing,” Serafin repeated. Then he offered Caitrin his hand. “See if you can do it.”

  “I'll most likely burn you,” Caitrin warned.

  Serafin squared his feet with his shoulders. “I'm ready for it.”

  Caitrin touched the back of Serafin’s forefinger, and Serafin softly cursed while jerking his hand away. “No, it didn't work.” He took a moment to heal the burn. Then he cocked an eyebrow at Caitrin. “One more shot, my old friend. Then you'll have to find someone else to practice on.”

  Caitrin smiled as he attempted the magic again, and Serafin cursed louder the second time. “No, it's definitely not working.” A devilish grin youthened his features as he reached for Caitrin's hand. “Let's see if mine's any better.”

  Caitrin laughed and prepared himself for a burn, but still yanked his arm back when his skin singed. “You're not getting two attempts,” he refused, shaking his head.

  Layla laughed then glanced at her grandmas. “Let the ladies try.”

  So they did. Daleen was the first to try, burning Serafin with the attempt. Then Morrigan had to be coaxed into testing the magic out on her mate.

  “If you’re not going to try it on me,” Caitrin insisted, “grab Serafin’s hand, because I want to know if you can do it.”

  Morrigan was obviously tempted to take him seriously, but after a deep breath, she clutched his hand and touched his finger.

  Caitrin sucked in a deep breath when her fire hit him, and Morrigan murmured an apology as she healed the burn, a tear skating down her cheek.

  Caitrin dried her cheek as soon as his finger was healed. Then he looked down the line. “What do you think, Kemble? Will you bother trying?”

  “I am curious,” Kemble replied, turning deep dimples on Cordelia. “What do you think, love? Want to hurt me?”

  She returned his grin and grabbed his wrist. “Of course. You know how much I like torturing you. It's my favorite pastime next to hammering nails through my feet and pouring lemon juice on my self-induced paper cuts.”

  He laughed and kissed her nose. “Torture away.”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she touched her finger to his, but her attempt was no more successful than Morrigan’s and Daleen’s.

  “Who wants to be my lab rat?” Kemble asked, looking between Caitrin and Serafin.

  “I say Caitrin does it,” Serafin answered. “He offered me up like a pig for slaughter just moments ago.”

  “Guess I deserve that one,” Caitrin laughed. “Get it over with, Kemble.”

  Kemble gave it a try, but his magic couldn't successfully penetrate skin without burning it. “Sorry,” he offered.

  Caitrin shrugged and passed his hand to Morrigan for healing. “Have you tried it, Quinlan?”

  Quin sobered and tilted his head. “Do you think I’d try that on her?”

  “No.”

  “I told him he could,” Layla interjected.

  “And of course I refused,” Quin added.

  Layla scowled then grinned at him. “You're stronger now. I bet you'd have no problem doing it.” She held out her hand, and he actually took it… so he could pull her fingers into a kiss.

  “No,” he refused.

  “Of course not,” she whispered. “So who's going to be Quin's lab rat?”

  Kemble stood and approached the sofa. “Ready when you are.”

  Quin grimaced at his dad’s hand. Then he found Layla’s stare. “Just make it so, huh?”

  “Yep,” she answered. “I think you'll do fine. Then you can try it on me.”

  Quin watched her eyes for a moment then turned his attention on his dad’s hand. After staring at his mark for several seconds, he touched it, but only summoned fire into his own fingertip. Merely pushing the flames toward his goal seemed doomed to fail, so he decided to transfer them without passing through skin. He used the concept all the time with objects, so why not do it with fire? Fire constructed by imagination – malleable and harmless in its current state, warm but not hot, formulated but not created. If it would remain that way through the transfer, it would be painless for his father, who’d then be set with the task of making it a reality. Quin took a steady breath before releasing the heat from his finger. Then he let go of his dad’s wrist and looked up.

  Eyes wide with wondrous comprehension, Kemble raised his hand and flicked a small fireball toward the ceiling.

  “See?” Layla beamed, taking Quin's hand. “I told you it would work.”

  “It was easy,” Quin confessed, pulling her closer. “The concept is simple.”

  “What concept?” Kemble asked.

  “Just transfer it,” Quin answered. “We use the theory all the time with objects.”

  “I tried that,” Daleen interjected. “It didn't work for me.”

  “So did I,” Caitrin added. “On my second try.”

  Serafin raised his hands, remembering. “I didn't notice it at the time, but now that you mention it, I received two different types of burns with you, Caitrin. Your first try singed the outer layer of skin, while the second, and Daleen's attempt, burned beneath the flesh as well. So in all likelihood, it did work in that you successfully transferred it, but the fire was in the form of an attack rather than a delivery, which is natural for the spell. When it leaves our bodies it's very real and will burn whatever it touches, but apparently our newest bonded mates are somehow handing over an incomplete spell, one that's missing the final component, the act of turning it into a reality. They give us the product they create, but we have to turn it on, physically and mentally make it happen.”

  Quin took Layla’s jaw and brushed his thumb across her lips. “I'm glad I didn't try it on you before we bonded. If Caitrin and Daleen failed, I would have failed.”

  “Hmm…” she hummed. “Maybe. So you transferred it, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “That's not how I do it.”

  “It's not?”

  “No.”

  “What's your theory?”

  “It's hard to explain. I never even feel the magic. I don't summon it in myself first. I summon it straight into you. Like... if I were you, or part of you. Or vice versa, I guess.”

  Everyone contemplated this as they stared at her. Then Quin looked at Serafin. “What do you think? Has she figured out how to manipulate other people's magic?”

  “It's hard to say,” Serafin answered, “but I doubt it. It sounds like she's combining… or incorporating, I should say, herself into others. She's not manipulating their magic. Like you said, it's definitely hers. She's just giving them the short-term ability to possess what's hers, the power and the body to handle it. I can't say for sure, but I imagine she can cast any spell she wants using a foreign body. She's working her magic through others.”

  “Have you heard of another magician doing the same?” Quin asked, ever intrigued by his angel.

  “No,” Serafin answered, “and here's why
. All of us, with practice, can bend, break, heal and manipulate a body and its physical functions, inside and out. And we can negatively affect another's spells by magically tweaking the brain with corporeal force, which scrambles the senses. We can even boost another's magic with emotional encouragement and physical contact, which is simply a manipulation of the psyche, a stimulation of soul and personality. But we can't make a person do what they're not meant to do. We can't make their magic and body surpass what they were made to handle. We can't create within them something that wasn't there to begin with. We can speed up a heart, but if we pump it faster than it was made to withstand, it's going to bust. If we provide a body with magic it's not built for, it's going to break or burn or freeze or explode. I have a feeling Layla can prevent those consequences. Now keep in mind this is all speculation, but from what little information we have, I’d say that, with a touch, she gains... an equal of sorts, and somehow, while that equal remains cognizant, in control of their mind and body, she's in there, too, molding their bodies to meet her requirements while mentally operating from within. She's, in a sense, living inside them, raising them to her level.”

  Quin found Layla's face and smiled. “Does that sound right?”

  “Kind of,” she answered, “but I never really thought of it like that. I didn't put that much consideration into it.”

  “Thinking up and performing that kind of magic is probably as natural to you as hovering is to everyone else.” He paused and ran a forefinger down the bridge of her nose. “No wonder it feels so good when you share your magic. You become part of me, and I can't think of anything more pleasing than that. You're incredible.”

  “Thank you, but it sounds kind of creepy – living in someone else. Not you of course. I could live in you forever. But others.”

  “You're not, though. You're doing it with a touch. It's wonderful magic, Layla.”

  “I guess.”

  “I know,” he countered. Then he kissed the tip of her nose and looked at Serafin. “I'm not working the magic like she is. Does that mean I shouldn't fill people with a full dose of heat?”