Retribution (2 page)

“Guthrie,” he laughed, tossing his hands up in welcome. “Fuck the Heavens, man, I haven’t seen you in six years.” He threw an arm around Guthrie’s shoulders and looked to the other newcomers, quickly spotting Lynette.
 
A grin twitched his facial hair and exposed a perfect row of shiny teeth. “Lady Lyn, you’re aging like a fine wine.”

Lynette snorted and rolled her eyes. “You’re full of shit, Token. More like a used mattress.”

“Do I sense some tension?” Token asked, turning his olive-green gaze on Guthrie.

Guthrie left the question unanswered and addressed his unit. “If you want to eat, you better do it.”

The soldiers hastened away, and after a moment’s hesitation, Lynette followed.

“Got any food in here?” Guthrie asked, giving Silestra some air as he entered the commander’s tent.

Token followed him in, magically donning a pair of shorts as he gestured toward a sofa. “Sure. Take a seat. How have you been, man?”

While Token put together a tray of cheese and crackers, Guthrie scanned the impressive expanse of the commander’s opulent quarters. “I’m Agro’s new lieutenant.”

“No shit?”

“No shit,” Guthrie mumbled.

Token set the tray on the coffee table and poured two glasses of wine. “Congratulations are in order then.”

That was a lie, and both men knew it, but they played the roles they’d played most their lives. “Thanks, Toke,” Guthrie replied. “Got any meat?”

“It’s on its way. So what happened to the last guy?”

“Missing.”

“Flee?”

“Probably not.”

“Dead then.”

“Most likely.”

A witch entered the tent with a tray of ham then promptly made her exit, and Guthrie took a few bites before looking at the commander. “Have you heard any news?”

Token crossed his arms over his broad chest, holding his bicep in one hand and his glass in the other. “I know the boss is after a witch. All the commanders received orders to search for her, and I was told to move north. We were about three hours down the coast. I’ve been sending out teams to gather local gossip, but we don’t know anything more than a name and that she’s a bonded child.”

“
The
bonded child,” Guthrie corrected.

Token’s forehead wrinkled as he took a swig. “You’ll have to explain.”

“How old were you when you were brought into camp?”

“Seven.”

“Then you may not remember.”

Token grabbed a piece of ham and sat on the sofa’s armrest. “Remember what?”

“Twenty-two years ago, two bonded children bonded with each other.”

“What? That’s impossible.”

“Most magicians would agree, but I saw them. Their lights were bigger and brighter, and their power-bands put others to shame. When Agro found out about them, he set out to acquire their child.”

“Of course.”

“But he was fooled into thinking the woman died while their child was still in the womb and too young to survive. The father sacrificed his life to ensure Agro believed the lie.”

Token gave an impressed nod and took another swig. “Now the truth’s out?”

“Yes. The witch is alive, and we’ve been on her trail for nearly a month, but we haven’t been able to catch her. When we do manage it, we’re going to have a fight on our hands. Her parents are long gone, but her grandparents and their coven are prepared to die for her.” Guthrie paused, taking the time to chew and swallow a bite. Then he charged on. “And it seems Agro is prepared to do the same. He’ll stop at nothing to get this witch.”

“And that’s why you’re here,” Token surmised, slowly running his gaze over his luxurious abode. “Calling the troops home.”

“Yes, all those I can gather by Thursday night. I also need to make a trip to southern Nevada to buy a couple of soothsayers.”

Token rose from the sofa and moved to the entrance of his tent, moving one flap aside so he could see the soldiers eating breakfast. “And the children? Will they accompany us?”

“No. I need your weakest soldiers to take the children to a camp near Lake Tahoe. The witch’s family wants us to believe her trail leads to the area, and Agro wants them to think we’ve fallen for it. Once the children’s handlers get them settled, they’re to make public appearances and ask blatant questions regarding the witch, so word will get back to her family that we’ve moved on. Then, once they let their guard down, we’ll move in. Unless the new soothsayers prove useful, which is about as likely as the witch turning herself in. Of all the visions Agro’s yanked from soothsayers over the past twenty-two years, none of them have pertained to the witch or her family.”

Still gazing outside, Token gave a nod. “Lynette seems on edge.”

“That bitch is crazy,” Guthrie replied.

Token loudly laughed as he turned into the tent and grabbed a piece of cheese. “I see your passion for each other still burns.”

“That’s one way to put it. So, how do your soldiers measure up? Anyone worthy enough to lead besides yourself?”

“Lead in what way?”

“Excluding those taking responsibility for the children, most of the soldiers need to head to Oregon, but I need a trustworthy unit to take your map and collect the rest of the troops in California. They have two nights. They need to report to Agro before the sun rises on the third.”

“I have a handful who can handle the task,” Token assured. “What would you have me do?”

“You’ll go with me. When we’re done in Nevada, I need to hit Wyoming and Montana.”

“Shit, man. Are we starting a war?”

“We’ve already cleaned out Washington, Oregon, and Idaho, but Agro’s been on edge and skimmed us down to around seventy soldiers. We’ll be lucky to double it within the time limit he’s given me.” Guthrie ushered Silestra up his sleeve as he stood. Then he downed his wine and headed for the exit. “And yes, Agro’s preparing for war. We’ll either capture the witch or die trying.”

“But it’s one witch.”

Guthrie halted and turned, finding his comrade’s stare. “A witch favored by the Heavens, Token. You’d be wise to remember that from now on. This is no ordinary hunt. The stakes are higher than ever, and the boss is following this one through no matter the cost.”

Token took a long look at his comfortable quarters – a luxury he may never experience again. Then he found Guthrie’s stare and gave a nod. “I’ll set the soldiers to task.”

Chapter 1

Cannon Beach, Oregon
 

Karena’s Royal Suite

The first time Quin awoke to a gold and silver haze floating around him and Layla's naked bodies, conflicting emotions crashed over him, squeezing his heart as the organ soared. He'd received the most amazing gift life could give – she was tucked into his chest, her warm breath a tingling channel for the peace and desire she instilled in him – and he was beyond grateful for the gift, but wicked talons lurked in the shadows, threatening to swoop in and grab his angel away.

Everything had changed. The situation was completely different now, but the danger remained and had strengthened. He and Layla would never be able to live a risk free life. Overnight they'd become the most dynamic witch and wizard the world had ever known, and there was no doubt in Quin's mind they were the only two of their kind, making them a delicacy coveted by every evil magician in the world. And not only would wicked magic users want control over them; common magicians would view them as an intriguing freak show set up for the entertainment of others. The two of them might as well have targets painted on their backs.

Quin had already considered a life in hiding, and it wasn't an appealing idea. He loved his family and cherished his home. When his friends had been mentally preparing to someday leave their communities, he'd refused to consider it, telling himself it would take an angel to separate him from his coven. Well, he had his angel now, and he’d follow her anywhere, but she didn't want to leave either. And who the hell could blame her? She'd grown up with only one person to love and to be loved by. Now she had a whole slew of them, twenty-six people who’d give their lives for her; twenty-six people she’d die for. She'd just gotten her hands on it; of course she didn't want to let it go.

He looked down at her long, onyx spirals. Then he watched her peaceful aura flutter around them, holding more ribbons of color than any other aura he'd seen. Twenty-six of the distinguishable cords – those representing their coven – quivered and flowed a little faster than the rest, drawing attention away from the thinner and wispier strands. Then there was the thick band of sparkling dark-brown, which flowed like an espresso river sprinkled with pulsing stars, so bold and so substantial it looked tangible.
 

No, he didn't want to leave, but if that's what it would take to keep her from harm, that's what they’d do. The sacrifices would be difficult to make; they’d miss much of what life had to offer, but the emptiness would never compare to what they’d feel if they lost each other. Through all the worry and fear, every second they spent in each other's arms was a blessed second, and Quin would turn away from the rest of the world in a heartbeat to hold Layla’s breathing body against him.

Her aura continued to flow peacefully, but Quin knew that would change the moment she awoke and started worrying about the difficult decisions facing them. He despised the notion. He wanted her to wake up and feel the pure wonder of it, not the worry of it.

Taking a chance, he moved his arms from around her and replaced them with magic. Then he carefully floated her further up his body. She stirred, but he had no problem adjusting his spell to her movements. After catching a glimpse of her serene expression, he slowly rolled her over. Then he gently lowered her back to the bed. Her aura picked up speed when she made contact with the blankets, so he quickly formed his body to the back of hers and touched his lips to her ear.

“Layla, my perfect angel, are you ready to wake up?”

She smiled and stretched against him, then rolled back into a ball, but she didn't open her eyes or seem fully awake when she mumbled his name.

He gave her earlobe a nibble then moved his mouth to the back of her neck, listening as her sigh whispered across his pillow. He reached up, finding her parted lips with his fingertips. Then he trailed his hand down her torso, emitting soft shocks that twitched her stomach and vibrated her aura. When he got to her thighs, he slipped his hand between them, completely covering the smooth entrance to her body. Then a whoosh of magical warmth flowed from his palm, igniting sensitive nerve endings and jolting her awake.

Her arm flew behind her, frantically searching him out, and he abandoned her thighs to grab her hand. He pulled the inside of her wrist to his lips, kissing it until she relaxed. Then he stretched her hand over her head and placed it in his idle palm.

His freed fingertips trailed down her arm and side, finding their way to her inner thigh, and with a little tug, she was open to him, surrounding his erection with humid heat. His heart pounded against her shoulder blade as he lowered his lips to her ear. Then he whispered her name as he pushed inside her body, his passage tight and swollen from the night before.

She cried out, her insides flexing as her hips jerked, and he made to pull away so he could heal her. But before he could free himself, or even murmur an apology, she arched and forced him deeper. A shaky breath lodged in his throat, nearly choking him as his arm flew to her torso, and her wrist slipped from his other hand with ease. She reached behind her, clutching his jaw as she tilted her head back. Then she held his cheek to hers while moving against him in a way that can’t be learned, not by time nor experience. Only instinct driven by pleasure moved like that.

“Damn,” he mumbled, trying to maintain his sanity, but he hadn’t expected such a carnal reaction. She’d yanked away his control in more ways than one, leaving surrender his only option.

His twitchy fingers came to a rest on her collarbone, and his forearm kept her close as her lungs and hips quickened, spurred by an oncoming wave of pleasure.

He sharply inhaled, and her palm slid from his jaw, her rapid breathing in sync with her flexing core. Her breast cuddled his arm as she found his hand. Then she locked their fingers together and squeezed. His chest deflated as he firmly pulled her closer, and she used magic to keep it that way as she arched and undulated, welcoming deepened thrust with pulsing insides.

Her head rolled, gliding moist and parted lips across his cheek, and as her breathy exclamation floated over his jaw, intense tingles erupted, making him feel as light as air as they pushed him over the edge. His chest rumbled as he buried his face in her hair, drowning his senses in her heavenly bouquet. Then a rush of relief launched him into a fit of spasms.
 

Several sensational minutes passed before their muscles melted into sated mush, and they both sighed as fulfillment replaced urgency.

He remained submersed in curls, and after a deep breath, he mumbled into them. “You're amazing.”

She wiggled, moving her neck closer to his lips. “You're the perfect alarm clock.”
 

He laughed, and shivers shot through their bodies.

“What could I do?” he breathed. “You looked stunning sleeping in my arms, so beautiful and bright. When my naked angel tempts me, I bite.”