Retribution (6 page)

Serafin looked from Quin’s face to Layla's tense back. “Agro's still close, sweetheart.”

“I don't care,” she returned. “Let him find me. I'm useless to him now. He won't want me once he realizes my loyalties will always lie with Quin. You guys know that.”

“He may have lost any chances of loyalty,” Caitrin countered, “but that won’t deter him from claiming the treasure. Even if he decides you’re too much trouble, he'll do everything he can to get his hands on your children.”

There was a moment of silence that seemed to draw out forever. Then Layla firmly broke it, her voice like cold stone. “There won't be any children for him to take.”

Everyone gasped, and Quin clutched his chest, the heart within twisting as his lungs flattened and his stomach flipped. His whole body felt bruised and weak, crushed by the weight of her words. Using magic to loosen his tight throat, he forced himself to breathe. “Really, love?”

More silence. Then she drummed her fingernails on the counter and tapped a toe on the floor. Her shoulders shook and expanded with a choppy breath, and the beauty in her aura started draining away, making room for intense grief.

Quin flew to her and tentatively reached for her curls, worried she’d reject his touch in her sorrowful state, but the moment she tilted her head toward his fingers, he took her in his arms and pulled her back to his chest. His palm found her cheek as he kissed the top of her head, and she leaned into his hand, drifting trembling lips across his thumb as a tear rolled over his forefinger.

“Really, Quin,” she whispered. “We can't.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to endure the anguish pressing in on him. “Maybe it doesn't have to be that way.”

She gave a tiny nod as more tears followed the first. “But it does have to be that way. Look at the position we're in because of our powers. Now imagine what our child would face. From their very first breath to their very last they’d be a victim of circumstance. I can't do that... I can't put a child through that.”

Layla couldn’t find the strength to come right out and say it, but she knew having a child with him would be impossible,
literally
impossible. Bonded couples couldn't conceive if one of them had doubts, and no matter what happened down the road, she’d always fear bringing a child into their predicament. Bonding with Quin had made it impossible to have babies with him. She would never carry a baby. She said the words in her head, and they pierced her heart more keenly than expected. She would never carry a baby.

Quin sucked a deep breath into his burning lungs and pulled her tighter against him, knowing she was right – passing their burdens on to a child would be the epitome of selfishness, no matter how long they waited to do it. Several images flashed through his mind – some he'd seen before, some he’d yet to dream about, but all of them were gone now and would never be. He always imagined he’d someday have a child, and since he'd met his angel, he'd seen it in his dreams – a baby girl with dark curls, emerald eyes, and a soul-softening pucker framed by dimples; and two versions of a baby boy, both with his face, but one with Layla's emerald gaze.

As the visions disintegrated and drifted away, his heart broke for himself and busted for Layla. She’d be a fantastic mom – he knew by the way she doted on Alana – but she’d never get the chance to prove it.

Ignoring his churning stomach, he turned her into a hug. “I'm sorry, love.”

“Me, too, Quin. I want to give you everything, but I can't give you this. I can’t do that to a baby… to our baby.”

“I know, angel. I’d never ask you to.”

Layla filled her lungs with his strengthening scent. Then she pulled her face from his chest and wiped away tears. She tried to smile at him, but only managed a twitch. “If we ever get out of this mess, we'll adopt. We'll find a child who's had their family torn apart by people like the Unforgivables, and we'll give them the life they deserve.”
 

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 kissed 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.”