Retribution (45 page)

“You're fun,” he countered, gathering her hair in one palm as the other slid down her back. Then he pulled her closer, pressing her against the arousal tightening his shorts. “We have thirty minutes, angel.”

“Mmm…” she murmured, reaching for his waistband, and her nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons, dropping his shorts to the floor before her purr reached his heart.

Chapter 31

Layla lay curled up on Quin’s chest as he floated through the forest, blindly skirting around tree trunks and drifting over ferns. Their foray in the barn left her so relaxed, her eyelids would only open halfway, and his heartbeat had her in a trance.

“I have a confession,” he said, breaking the strong rhythm. “I had an ulterior motive for sweeping you away when I did.”

“Something besides showing me the clearing and taking me to heaven?”

“Yes.”

“I’d guess, but I have no idea, and my brain's being lazy.”

His chest softly shook with a laugh as he played with her hair. “I did want to show you the garden and animals, and I always love spending time in our heaven. But I swept you away because I wanted to give you a break from everything, and I wanted you in a good mood.”

She raised her heavy head. “I wasn't in a bad mood.”

“I know. I just wanted you to relax, because you were anxious.”

“I will be again.”

“I know.” He smiled and raised his eyebrows. “And I'll relax you again.”

“Hmm... I might have to work myself into a frenzy right now if that's the antidote.”

He laughed as he tightened his hug. “My frisky angel.”

She rubbed her lips over his heart then returned her ear to it. “So why do I need to be relaxed? What is it we're about to do?”

He sighed and went back to playing with her hair. “It's time to count our army.”

Her lethargic eyelids found energy, widening as she looked at him. “The extended family that got here today, they're here to fight?”

“Some of them.”

“But there are over a hundred volunteers. Why should our distant family fight when it's not their battle?”

“It is their battle, Layla. Agro’s threatening the lives of people they love. And we need them. The more people we have on our side, the better everyone's
chances will be.”

Layla didn't respond. She was thinking about how hard it would be to watch people she barely knew but already cared for counting themselves in on a deadly battle. She’d soon have to look them in the eye as they offered her their lives. The extended family she'd just met and members of the Cormac/Adair and Owen/Sullivan covens – practically strangers to her – would be risking their lives because of her. Then there were the people she loved with her whole heart, members of her own coven. She cringed, knowing their commitments would be the hardest to take. Until then, the subject of who’d fight had remained in the background, always on their minds but never said aloud. Now she was moments away from finding out which members of her own coven would throw themselves into the fire with her and Quin. She hated the thought.

Quin watched her aura expand – dark-blue and murky-green rivers swimming with ribbons that matched her family’s eyes – and his aching heart took a hit. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he pulled her up his body and carefully tucked her face into his neck, not only because she needed comforting, but because he needed her – the sweet remedy to his guilt, fear and pain.

“I'm sorry, love.”

“Me, too, Quin.”

When he reached the outskirts of the lawn, he halted and flipped upright, keeping her cradled in his arms. “Hey.”

“Hey back,” she returned, finding his eyes.

“I know this is going to be hard,” he whispered. “It's sad and it's scary and it hurts, but we'll help each other get through it. Then we'll move on to the next challenge.”

“I know, but I'm still going to have a hard time with it.”

“I have no doubt, and that’s okay. It's okay if you cry, and it's okay if your aura goes crazy. That's how you feel, and I don't want you trying to hide it, because that makes it worse.”

She gave a nod. Then she laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck.

She was as relaxed as she was going to get, so he kissed her cheek and walked forward. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Yes.”

“Let me hold you while we deal with this. As long as I have you in my arms, I have sunshine in my life, and the clouds are just passing by.”

She tightened her hold on him, and he entered the large circle of magicians, taking a seat next to Kemble.

Catigern vanished his pipe and looked over. “Ready?”

Quin gave a nod, and Zenith took flight, screeching as she circled the clearing. Everyone stopped talking and looked at Catigern, who cleared his throat and stood. “Everyone knows why we're gathered, so let’s get to the point. Here's where our numbers stand.” He paced as he recalled the figures. “As far as we can tell, Agro holds between 150 and 200 soldiers. At last count, we had 140 volunteers, but that includes twenty-five mercenaries who can’t be trusted, so we'll count them out and lower the number to 115. In this clearing, we've had seven guests commit to the fight, including a set of twins and a bonded child.” He halted, the haze around him growing morose as he looked at the golden cloud beside him. “Not everyone in my own coven has spoken, but so far eight members of my family are committed to the battle, including three bonded couples and... well, the two most powerful magicians this world has ever known.” His lips twitched into a small smile as he looked away. “So there you go. Our army is smaller and less experienced than our enemy’s, but we have a miracle on our side – the one Agro threatens to snatch away.” He glanced at the shiniest witch and wizard in the clearing then scanned the surrounding faces. “We don't want you to fight. We want everyone here to stay happy and healthy, so if you don't feel the need to enter this battle, we beg that you don't. But if you do choose to fight, know that your sacrifice is recognized, and that our cause is honorable. You’ll not only be fighting for a miracle; you’ll be fighting for what that miracle represents – love, generosity and happiness. Our enemy spends his life destroying those gifts, planting fear and despair where love once bloomed, and he’s done it for too long. It’s time to take the bastard down.”

“Hear, hear,” the crowd chorused.

Summoning his pipe, Catigern sat back down. Then Zenith swooped in and landed on his shoulder. “It's time for all of you to make a tough decision,” he noted, flicking a flame from his fingertip. “Take your time and let us know when you’re ready.”

The guests began conferring with one another, filling the clearing with a steady thrum of voices, and Kemble shifted in his seat to address Quin. “How do you feel about our numbers so far?”

Quin took a deep breath as he looked around, watching nearly everyone he loved discuss whether or not they were ready to die. “Both sides are a lot bigger than they were ever supposed to be – a blessing and a curse. It could mean victory… or the biggest disaster the magical world has seen in over sixty years. I look at our numbers and think this is it, this is the biggest resistance Agro has ever had to face and it's going to be his last. But then I look at the people, and I can’t believe I’ve done this. I’m putting hundreds of lives on the line, and I don’t feel good about that at all. But it's too late to back out. The volunteers will attack with or without us. We lit this fire; it’s our responsibility to fight it. As for whether or not I think we have a chance, yes, I do. But even if we manage a win, we're walking away with blood on our hands.”

“Yes,” Kemble sadly agreed. “Blood will spill on both sides.”

The Owen/Sullivan elder stood, and the lawn fell quiet as everyone looked at him.

“For the security and survival of our children,” he announced, “only five members of my family will be allowed to fight.”

The five new recruits rose from their chairs and stood next to their elder, who met Catigern’s sober stare. “I'll be joining them, so put us down for six.”

Quin scanned the volunteers, finding the oldest generation in the Owen/Sullivan coven. Eyes shiny and shoulders squared – they stood ready to protect their friends as well as their offspring. Layla looked as well. Then she turned her face away as her aura pulsed with sad colors.

“Thank you,” Catigern offered, trading a meaningful look with his old friend. Then he turned to his best friend – the elder of the Cormac/Adair coven. “Has your family reached a decision, Phelan?”

Phelan stood, large and intimidating, but with the same mischievous spark Weylin possessed. “Yes,” he answered, glancing behind him.

Several women sobbed as eight more wizards stood, including Kegan and Weylin, and Quin's jaw tightened, his lungs burning with the breath he’d been holding. Flipping his gaze between his friends, he forced himself to breathe while minding his hold on Layla. “Don’t do this, guys. We have plenty of help.”

Across the circle, Nevyn stood from his chair. “If they're allowed, Brynton and I should be allowed.”

“I don’t think so,” Maeveen protested, grabbing Nevyn's hand and yanking him back down. “You're too young, and so are they.” She scowled at Kegan. “I know Weylin can't resist a challenge, but what's your excuse? You're usually the sensible one.”

“This isn't a game of hockey, Mae,” Kegan returned. “We're not talking about pride and glory. Our friend’s life is on the line.”

Quin shook his head. “I appreciate the gesture, Keg, but it's unnecessary. We have help.”

Weylin scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You need more, Quin, and I can't believe you're fighting us on this.”

“Why not?” Quin countered. “You don't think I value your lives?”

“I know you do, and that's exactly why we're doing this. You’d do the same for us. You, me and Keg have been standing up for one another for more than twenty years. What makes you think this time is different?”

“Because this fight is deadly.”

Kegan stepped forward and squared his stance, taking on an air of confidence and looking much like the soldier he aimed to be. “We're aware of the consequences, Quin, but if we don't help you when you need it most, we're not the men we claim to be. Out of all the incredible people I know, none of them devote themselves to others like you do. You have this uncanny ability to read people, to recognize when they need help, and you're always willing to offer it. I've turned to you with problems I didn't even take to my own family, and you’ve never left me to handle them on my own. Now you need help, and I know that's probably hard for you to swallow, because you're the man with the answers not the problems. But you've finally gotten yourself into a predicament, and it's a big one, so I'm going to help you resolve it, just like you've helped me over and over again.”

A moment of tense eye contact passed between them before Quin quietly responded. “You don't owe me anything, Keg.”

“That's for me to decide. I'm taking this one off your hands, Quin. You have no say in the matter.”

“Well,” Phelan interrupted, slapping Weylin and Kegan on the back, “those were brave and devoted words, spoken surely and with finality. I'd say they're going to stick. Besides, if you can't count on your friends, who the hell can you count on?” He walked back to his chair and sat. “Put us down for nine.”

Quin’s chest felt solid as he watched his friends return to their seats. Then he looked away, hating his lack of control. Layla’s fingers slid into his hair, and he took her other hand, pulling her palm into a lingering kiss. The conversation would only get harder.

After giving Phelan an appreciative nod, Catigern looked at Serafin. “How many from your and Daleen's family will join the fight?”

“Twelve,” Serafin answered, and the dark blue in Layla's aura quivered.

“And yours?” Catigern asked, looking at Morrigan.

“Ten,” she whispered, clutching Caitrin's hand as if it were the only thing keeping her from shattering.

Layla’s aura expanded, vibrating so fiercely, it looked like it was on the verge of bursting or disintegrating. Catigern noticed and looked at Quin, who shook his head, urging his great-grandpa not to draw attention to Layla’s sorrowful state.

Catigern hesitated then turned to Cordelia. “How about your family, my dear?”

“Thirteen,” she answered.

Quin's throat swelled, and Layla's aura stretched into the fire – a rainbow rippling through spitting flames.

Next up were Dallas and his fourteen contacts, so Quin took a moment to close his eyes and lose himself in Layla’s hair.

“Well, Dallas,” Catigern said, “you've seen what we have to work with, and you know the odds. So what's it going to be? Are you in or out?”

After a long moment of contemplative silence, Dallas firmly replied. “I'm in. This is the best chance of success I've seen, and I've been looking for a long time. If I don't jump on this ride, I'll end up missing my destination.”

Following another round of debates, Dallas’ fourteen contacts agreed with him. Then more silence passed, heavy with trepidation. Quin eventually raised his head and found his great-grandpa, who was already watching him, gearing up to say something difficult.

“Our entire family is at the heart of this struggle,” Catigern noted, his aura darker than Quin had ever seen it. “No matter who goes into this battle or who comes out, the death of just one person will leave us all broken and guilty. We've accepted that, because we know our bonds will ease the pain. But our age-old alliance is being threatened along with our lives.”