Deception (24 page)

She found the purple glow of the moon through a gap in the branches, reverently watching as a cloud drifted aside to reveal a bright portion of the orb's cratered surface. It was the closest thing to a star up there, and really, it was much more inspiring than tiny flashes of distant, burning rock. And it was much more fitting to look at while thinking about her hero. Quin wasn't a distant star so easily obscured by dark clouds; he was a constant light, clearly visible through the stormiest nights.

Her heart gave a forceful beat then faded, and tears streamed from the corners of her eyes as her lashes headed for her cheeks.

The edges of her world darkened, her final vista growing blurry. Then a flash of movement caught her attention, and she flipped her lids back up. Her vision cleared, and one of her eyebrows twitched as a large hawk silently soared through the glade.

“Layla,” Finley shouted. “Stop trying to kill yourself. It won't work.” He reached back, and his open palm whipped across her face.

Her head snapped to the side, but she forced it to snap back, flipping her gaze to the treetops across the clearing. Her heartbeat quickened, shifting from a sporadic thrum to a forceful throb, and she lowered her eyes to Finley. “You shouldn't have done that,” she whispered.

Now that she was breathing, he relaxed and reached for the lace poised on her upper thigh. “Why's that?”

Her alert gaze shifted, and a blood-red haze enveloped them, wiping the confident smirk off Finley's face. Before he could speak or turn, a large arm wrapped around his neck and yanked.

“Quin,” Layla breathed, catching a glimpse of his eyes. The dark rings around his dilated pupils glinted silver as they flashed over her, but they were his, and they were beautiful.

Chapter 15

Eyes wide and mouth twisted, Finley grasped at the air in front of Layla’s face, his other hand tugging on her underwear before slipping away. Her hips jerked forward. Then the magic holding her up ceased and she fell to the ground. Forgetting the pain, she whipped her head up, trying to catch her breath as Quin tossed Finley across the clearing.

Surprise had gotten the best of the twice-bonded wizard, but he quickly recovered and flipped upright. In the same fluid movement, he launched an attack, and Layla screamed as a ball of fire shot toward her true hero.

Quin threw out a hand, but instead of aiming it toward the deadly spell charging him, he aimed it at Layla. Her throat swelled as fog rushed from the ground, forming a pearlescent dome between her and the world. Then her heart leapt into her larynx as Quin shot straight up, barely dodging the fireball. Timber shattered with an earsplitting snap, and needled branches burst into crackling flames.

Layla ran her gaze over the nacreous fog while fighting the bindings on her wrists, but Finley’s magical cords stayed strong despite his preoccupation. She reached for the mist and tried to push through it, but it was as solid as the ground beneath her. Quin had put her in a shell.

Damn it. She was incapable of helping, and the prospect of watching Quin die made her blood run cold.

Finley cursed, and Layla looked over, finding him standing on the ground shooting deadly spells into the air one right after another. Ears buzzing, Layla flipped her gaze to the sky and found Quin’s aura, but he was moving too quickly for her to make out his details.

The sky burst with color, and she kept losing track of the darting blur of crimson, but she could tell by the lack of return fire it was taking all of Quin's energy to stay alive.

Finley stopped shooting spells, and Layla held her breath as she watched his pupils swiftly follow Quin's movements. Three seconds later, his hand twitched, and Layla’s heart dropped as a tortured yell echoed through the clearing.

She looked up, watching through a pool of tears as Quin’s aura expanded and quivered around his flexed form. Then the haze snapped back in as he plummeted toward earth.

“No!”

She pressed her palms to the pearlescent fog, trying to grab him with a hovering spell, but he kept falling, the details of his tense body quickly coming into view. She glanced at the ground below him, imagining loose soil as soft as a feather bed. Then she flipped her gaze back up, forcing herself to watch while begging for a miracle. Just as her heart seized in her cold chest, the miracle came.

Quin was only a few yards from the ground when a shiny, amber orb surrounded him, halting his descent and fending off Finley's torture spell. Layla’s lungs yanked in air as a bright aura swooped into the clearing. Then her heart resumed beating as Quin’s dad pulled him to his previous height. Quin shook off the attack as he and Kemble faced Finley, and Layla slumped and sobbed, inundated by a temporary dose of relief.

The spells started flying with such commotion, it was impossible to follow who was casting what, and Layla lost sight of Quin every time he dodged. She scanned the fringes of the sky, looking for additional miracles, and a surge of hope fluttered her overwrought heart when she spotted five pulsing glimmers in the distance – four of them bright golden, one of them light golden. Her grandparents and Cordelia. It
had
to be. They were a long way away still, but they were coming, flying in behind Finley, and the arrogant bastard didn't even know they were there.

He constantly spit curses as he battled, enraged by the circumstances, and the longer his adversaries survived, the angrier he got. He stopped throwing spells and scanned those coming toward him. Then he bellowed and tossed his hands up, exploding all the incoming threats at once. Sparks rained down as burning timber crackled, and Finley flew toward Layla while keeping his eyes on the sky.

Quin roared and dropped into a dive, darting around a barrage of burning arrows. Then he stretched his hands out and flipped upright, sweeping his palms up with him. The earth trembled, and Layla braced herself as a massive wave of water rushed from the ground between predator and prey. The crest swelled at least twenty feet into the air then curled toward Finley.

Layla strained her wide eyes on Finley’s blurry form, hoping to see him get slammed to the ground, but when he turned vertical, the wave solidified.

Now a wall of ice, the water magic had served its purpose by keeping him from reaching her; and even though he immediately burned the frozen whitecap to the ground, he couldn't advance. He was too busy fending off the spells Quin and Kemble were casting from thirty feet away.

Finley huffed as he raised both palms, shooting two streams of lightning toward father and son, and Layla's heart halted as her terrified gaze raced the sizzling bolts.

Apparently Quin and Kemble anticipated the move, because they swept their hands out in unison, and the lightning's deadly course shifted. A thundering boom shook the earth as electricity drilled into the ground, and half the clearing's vegetation turned to ash.

Layla flipped her gaze to Finley, finding his lips lifting into a malicious smile, and her stomach sank as she looked at Quin, but it was Kemble who was in trouble. Finley had gotten a magical grip on him, and he catapulted him into the flaming forest.

Layla looked away from the smoke Kemble disappeared through, heartbroken by the possible outcomes and terrified of Quin fighting alone, but when she turned her desperate gaze on her hero, she found him confidently glaring at Finley. He didn't seem the least bit concerned about his own life.

A flash caught Layla’s eye, and she looked to the left, gasping as five sparkly cords unfurled from the sky. They snaked through the air with incredible speed as they descended behind Finley, who didn’t know they were there until they snapped around his ankles, wrists and head. He roared as the shiny cords secured his appendages. Then the opposite ends of the magical ropes were grasped by Layla’s grandparents and Cordelia.

The five of them landed, and Serafin walked forward, taking in the slack as he followed his rope to Finley’s skull. Keeping his emerald gaze locked on his target, Serafin reached for the crown of Finley’s head, and the cord flattened and stretched, covering his skull like a helmet. His arms and legs were splayed apart, pulled taut by those holding the cords, and he bellowed as he struggled to free himself.

Everyone held firm, and the lack of magical retaliation proved the effectiveness of Serafin's mind shield.

The pearly shell surrounding Layla evaporated. Then an oversized t-shirt appeared on her shivering body. She sharply inhaled, and Quin’s scent flooded her senses as she looked up, watching him land in front of Finley. A few tense seconds passed as he glared into his captive’s eyes. Then Layla jolted when he roared in his face.

“Your power is useless now!”

Quin’s voice had never sounded so hateful, angry or rough, not even close, and his aura was different, too. The haze pulsed and twisted around flexed muscles like a bloody storm cloud, reflecting off Finley's fair skin and swallowing Serafin’s bonded light.

“Now it’s your turn to be the victim,” Quin seethed, nearly shoving a forefinger through Finley's breastbone.

Finley stopped tugging on his bindings and met Quin's stare. “Their magic won't hold forever.”

“It will hold long enough.”

The grass ruffled to Layla's right, and she cowered as she whipped her head around.

“It’s okay,” Catigern whispered, crouching beside her.

He reached for her head, and she flinched, traumatized by Finley’s harsh touch.

“Finley’s spells,” Catigern explained. “Have they lifted?”

Layla looked down, surprised to find she could pull her wrists apart. “Kemble,” she stammered, pointing to the forest. “You have to help Kemble.”

Catigern’s gaze calmly followed her gesture, and Layla looked, too, finding Kemble emerging from the smoke. He was healing himself with one hand while spraying water magic at the burning timber, and both Layla and Cordelia sighed.

Catigern rose to help with the fires, and Layla looked at Quin, finally free to go to him, to throw her arms around his neck and squeeze. Bracing a palm in the grass, she pushed herself up, but her shaky legs couldn’t hold her weight and she fell on her broken face. She’d forgotten she was in such bad shape.

“Help her, Dad,” Quin demanded.

Grasping at cool greenery, Layla stifled sobs by clenching her teeth. Then Kemble spoke from beside her, his warm palms closing around her vibrating biceps. “Try to relax, Layla, and let us finish this.”

Layla lifted her teary gaze, hoping to find Quin’s eyes, but Finley snickered, reclaiming everyone’s attention. Quin wrapped his hand around his own fist, bracing his right arm as he rotated, and his elbow made solid contact with Finley’s jaw. A loud crunch resounded through the clearing, and Finley laughed while spitting blood and teeth at Quin’s feet.

“What are you going to do, Quin? Kill me?”

“Yes,” Quin confirmed, taking him by the throat, “but not before I beat the shit out of you.” Then his fist came down for two quick jabs.

Finley's cheekbone sliced through skin as blood poured from his nose, and his head swayed as his cocky sneer wavered.

Cordelia sobbed and looked away, but she didn’t say anything or relinquish her grip on the magical cord attached to Finley’s wrist.

Ignoring his mom’s cries, Quin kept his gaze glued to Finley, who seemed intent on running his mouth no matter how broken his face was. “Go ahead, Quin, kill me. Then you’ll have no one but yourself to blame when Layla dies . . . ” The taunt flowed into a tortured howl, and his expression twisted as he flopped within the confines of his restraints.

Layla didn't know what Quin was doing to him, just that it was horrible to watch. She tried to get to her feet again, but stayed low in case she fell. Sure enough, after two small steps, she succumbed to gravity and returned to the grass.

Kemble still held her arms, but he wasn’t putting any pressure on them. “Please hold still, Layla. You need extensive healing.”

She didn’t reply and had no plans to obey. She was just waiting for a decent dose of strength.

Finley's face went limp, and he gasped while trying to compose himself. “Then you’ve made your choice. Her blood will be on your hands.”

Quin grabbed Finley’s right fist and forced it open. “Whose blood is this, you sick piece-of -shit?”

Before Finley could answer, his fingers were snapped backward, cracking at the bloodstained knuckles. He snarled at the sky, ejecting a fine mist of crimson spit; and Quin left his fingers hanging to stand in front of him.

“I’ll die before letting her blood stain my hands,” Quin quietly vowed. “And until that day, I’ll spend my time eliminating those who choose otherwise. When I’m done with you, I’ll move on to Agro.”

A laugh scraped Finley’s throat as his deranged eyes widened. “You are in over your head, mama’s boy. This won’t end with Agro. He’s just the beginning. They’ll find her, and they’ll take her, and there will be nothing you can do about it.”

Quin stood motionless, his aura vibrating as his muscles rolled. “Who?”

Finley wickedly laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Read his mind,” Quin demanded.

Serafin hesitated as he looked at Finley’s head. “It will weaken the shield. It could be a ploy.”

“Shit.” Quin took Finley by the throat. Then he was nose to nose with him. “Who are you talking about?”