Retribution (20 page)

“I guess it didn't do any good against summoning spells either,” she noted.

His grin widened. “And for that, I'm thankful.” He leaned in and gently bit her pout, which promptly curved into a smile.

“Are you my consolation prize?” she asked.

“You didn't fail,” he countered, carrying her toward the chairs.

She tensed and looked around. “Where are you going?”
 

“To sit down.”

“Why? I need to practice.”

“You will. Let's take a break and watch other people practice.”

“But this is important, Quin.”

He stopped walking and met her stubborn stare. “I know it's important, Layla, but you don't have to learn it all at once, and I want you to take a break.”

“But I don't need a break.”
 

“Not even for one of Cinnia’s mocha shakes?”

She opened her mouth to refuse then closed it again to reconsider. But she couldn’t be swayed. “I don't need a shake. I need to learn.”

He watched her for several seconds then brought in the closer. “
I
need you to take a break. Please.”

Yep, that's all it took. “Okay. We'll take a break.”
 

“Thank you, angel.”

She playfully scowled and pointed at him. “But I want my shake.”

Once Quin got Layla on his lap, he had no problem keeping her there, and soon they were concealing their auras and bonded lights in anticipation of their next guest.

The witch flew into the clearing at noon and made a smooth landing, running her pink and purple gaze over the family. “What a fabulous looking group.” She lowered her hood and flipped her silver hair behind her shoulders. Then she walked forward with long and lithe strides.
 

Morrigan and Caitrin met her halfway, and Morrigan beamed while opening her arms. “Cece! It's been too long.”

“Yes it has,” the woman agreed, giving Morrigan a tight hug. “Forty years too long.”

Morrigan pulled away and scanned her friend. “You don't look any different.”

“Liar, but thanks anyway. I believe the last time I saw you my hair was brown.”

Morgan laughed and tousled the witch's sterling strands. “I guess it was, but the silver looks beautiful and goes great with your eyes.”

“Thanks, sweetie. I'm just glad it went silver instead of gray.”

“You’d look lovely either way.”

The guest took Morrigan’s cheek and smiled. “Sweet as always, Morrigan. I've missed you.”

“I've missed you, too, Cece.”

Caitrin stepped forward, resting a hand on Morrigan’s back while looking at their company. “Welcome, Cecelia. It's wonderful to see you looking so well.”

Cecelia stepped back and scanned him from head to toe. “You look just as I remember, Caitrin. Why hasn't anyone else gone silver?”
 

He laughed and offered her his arm. “I think the silver looks more natural than the brown. Perhaps you were simply a late bloomer.”

“Late indeed,” Cecelia replied, slipping her arm into the crook of his elbow while taking Morrigan's hand. “This happened two years ago.”

“I'm so excited you're finally meeting my family,” Morrigan said, leading her friend to the circle of chairs.

“Me, too,” Cecelia agreed. “It will be nice to put faces to the names. I feel like I know them already. Your letters and phone calls are always so in-depth and full of love; breaths of fresh air.”

“I'm proud of my coven,” Morrigan bragged, tilting her chin.

“And for good reason,” Cecelia replied, scanning the faces around her. “They're lovely.” Her gaze stopped on Layla and Quin, but if she was confused by their missing auras, she didn't show it. “Quite lovely indeed. So,” she chirped, looking at Morrigan, “would you like to make the introductions or should I?”

“I would
love
to make the introductions,” Morrigan gushed. “Everyone, this is Cecelia. She became one of my best friends when we were teenagers in Virginia. Now she lives in Nova Scotia.” She began pointing to each of the witches and wizards, announcing their names and giving brief descriptions.
 

Cecelia did, in fact, know a lot about the people she was meeting, and every once in a while she’d bring up certain accomplishments or funny anecdotes she'd heard from Morrigan.
 

When at last it was time to introduce Layla and Quin, Morrigan led Cecelia closer. “This is Layla. She's new to our coven.”

“You're stunning,” Cecelia observed, shaking Layla’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you,” Layla returned. “You're very lovely yourself. Your aura as well.”

Cecelia smiled, keeping Layla's hand as she intently searched her face. Then she cocked a perfectly arched eyebrow. “You're an extraordinary witch, aren't you, Layla?”

Layla blushed and shrugged. “I wouldn't say that.”

“I would,” Quin interjected, offering his hand to their guest.

Cecelia's smile stayed in place as she accepted the gesture and sized him up. “You're not so average yourself, young man.”

“This is Quinlan,” Morrigan explained, “the son of Kemble and Cordelia.”

“The bonded child,” Cecelia recalled.

“Yes,” Quin confirmed, glancing at her aura. “I assume you can relate.”

“Then you assume correctly.”

“You’re a bonded child?” Layla asked, scanning Cecelia's aura.

“Yes,” Cecelia laughed. “Does that intrigue you?”

“Yes,” Layla mumbled, blushing again.

“Don't be embarrassed,” Cecelia insisted. “I only ask because you seem to be more extraordinary than Quinlan and I combined.”

“Oh.” Layla bowed her head and moved closer to Quin. “I'm not competing.”

Cecelia's smile broadened as she glanced at Morrigan. “Who is this stunning creature?”

“Well...” Morrigan mumbled, looking at Quin, who shrugged, giving her silent permission to tell their secret. Morrigan’s aura brightened as she grinned and turned to her friend. “Cece, you're about to see something amazing, something you'll never forget.”

“It must be big,” Cecelia observed, laughing at her friend.

“Bigger than big. Are you ready, paying attention, excited?”
 

“Yes, sweet Morrigan. I'm all those things. Now quit teasing me and tell me the big news.”

Morrigan stopped bouncing and proudly looked to Layla. “This stunning creature is none other than my granddaughter.”

Cecelia's expression sobered as her gaze snapped to Layla. “Rhosewen and Aedan's child?”

“The one and only,” Morrigan answered.

Cecelia looked at her with wide eyes. “How have you kept this secret for so long?”

Morrigan’s smile fell as she met her friend’s stare. “Her life depended on it.”

“Of course,” Cecelia conceded, finding Layla again. “My, my, sweetie. Yes you are an extraordinary witch.”
 

“That's only part of the news,” Morrigan added.

“There's more?”

“Oh yes, there's more. Three days ago, Quinlan and Layla bonded.”

“What?” Cecelia gasped.

“Yep,” Morrigan confirmed. “Let the lovely hazes go.”

Quin and Layla were thrilled to obey, enveloping their guest in sparkling fog and bright colors.
 

“Wow,” Cecelia whispered. “It's...
 
it's beautiful.” She shook her head in amazement then sadly found Layla’s face. “And incredibly dangerous.”

After getting comfortable, the family listened to Cecelia’s story, and while it was heart-wrenching for Layla to hear, she handled the sadness better when her aura wasn’t stifled. Having the emotions on the outside, however, had a disadvantage. Each time she felt a particularly strong surge of sadness, her aura reacted, making everyone gasp or stare. The first few times this happened Layla apologized. Then she decided to ignore their shock, because she couldn't say sorry every time she experience strong feelings. She’d be saying it all the time.

Cecelia's tale was devastating, her status a constant burden. When she was eight, her family fled their home in Michigan and moved to France to protect her from the Lost Ones. Once Agro went underground with his army, Cecelia and her bonded parents returned to the states, joining an entirely different coven in Virginia. She'd been thirteen then, and that's when she met Morrigan. Her location remained a secret until she was nineteen, at which point Agro found her and tried to coerce her into joining his army. She refused, and before he could return to force the issue, she moved to her fiancé’s community in Massachusetts, hoping the relocation would throw Agro off track. A week before her wedding, the Unforgivables came looking for her, and when she refused to leave with them, they killed her fiancé and six of his family members. Cecelia fled again, moving to Georgia, and at the age of thirty, she married and had a child. At the age of thirty-five, the Unforgivables caught up with her yet again, and she lost her husband and her four-year-old daughter to them. She was able to escape with her life and her little girl's body, but she never fully recovered from the tragedy and devoted herself to a life of solitude, vowing never to marry another man or bear another child. She moved to Nova Scotia by herself, and that's where she'd been for the past twenty-five years, living an odd existence. She held no permanent connection to a home or a family, and she was considered nomadic by the few magicians who knew her.
 

She quickly committed herself to the fight, telling of the continued regret and guilt that haunted her. The fact that she'd lived when her child had not led to reoccurring ruminations of suicide. Only one thing kept her from following through. For twenty-five years her life had been driven by one purpose – to defeat Agro so others wouldn't suffer at his hands.

By the time her story was told and her commitment obtained, it was time for more guests to arrive. Mere minutes after Layla and Quin concealed their lights, two identical wizards landed on the lawn.

Their names were Darrion and Delano. They were twenty-five-year-old twins born and raised in Virginia. At the age of twenty they were discovered by Agro, who kidnapped their seventeen-year-old sister in an attempt to blackmail them into the Dark Elite. They were willing to sacrifice their freedom to save her and set up a meeting to make the trade, but when they arrived, they found their sister stripped and abused, undoubtedly used to fulfill the lewd desires of Agro's men. Tempers flared, and the twins went for Agro's throat, but the coward retreated, ordering his unit to follow, which they did. But not before killing the twins’ sister. Darrion and Delano vowed vengeance, and in an effort to protect the rest of their family, they deserted their coven. Now they lived near Acapulco, Mexico, awaiting their revenge.

They had no problem committing to the battle to come. “At this point,” Darrion said, “our lives hold little value.”

When Layla and Quin's secret was revealed, it merely added to their determination to destroy the threat. Like Grant and Cecelia, the twins thought a bond so special and beautiful should have the chance to blossom in the sun, not be shadowed by evil. Only Dallas was hesitant to commit, saying he’d waited too long for revenge to sacrifice his life for a flawed plan. He did, however, agree to stick around and help and perhaps reevaluate his decision to fight should they procure a larger army.

The sad recollections were over… for now, and as Layla reflected on them, she realized she had mixed feelings about them. On one hand, bringing in help was crucial to their success. And on a more personal note, hearing their reasons to fight eased her guilt. She didn't feel so bad about calling in strangers when they'd spent much of their lives waiting for the invite. But on the other hand, reliving the sad stories of others while constantly hiding her aura took a toll on her energy, and she needed fortitude for their next task – a trip to a fireproof location to test her and Quin’s new abilities.

Everyone on the lawn was going, and the family members who weren't present, planned to meet them there, including the seven sent to find Agro's camp.

Everyone lined up, and Layla and Quin shared the task of concealing them and their auras. Halfway through the process, Caitrin looked to the sky. Then he sadly shook his head and found Quin.

“Kegan and Weylin are here.”

Layla looked at Quin as he looked at her, and they knew they were thinking the same thing – Kegan and Weylin aimed to fight. “What can we do?” Quin asked. “Cut them out of our lives? Not let them see and hear what's going on?”

“I guess not,” she conceded.

Everyone looked up as Kegan and Weylin flew into the clearing and landed. Then Kegan headed for Brietta while Weylin walked toward Quin.

“You guys going somewhere?” Weylin asked, slowing his approach as he eyed the strangers.

“Yeah,” Quin answered. “We're heading to Washington to play with magic. Would you like to join us?”

“Sure,” Weylin agreed, closing the gap between them. Then his hand covered Layla’s shoulder, warm and surprisingly gentle as he scanned the air around her. “Hey, gorgeous.”

“Hey,” she replied, flashing him a smile.

Turning his bearded grin on the newcomers, Weylin offered his hand to Grant, who was nearly as big as he. “I'm Weylin.”