Read Impassion (Mystic) Online

Authors: B. C. Burgess

Impassion (Mystic) (13 page)

“I’ll consider that,” Gerald replied, “but I’m more worried about you. There are other ways of locating you, easier ways. Maybe you should alert the Portland police.”

“Maybe.” She’d be alerting someone all right, but it wouldn’t be the police. “Will you call me if he comes back?”

“Of course. And you let me know when you get an address.”

“Right. Thanks.”

“No problem, Layla. Take care now.”

“I will. Bye.”

Layla hung up and stared at the phone. She’d lived in Gander Creek for twenty-one years without anything odd happening. Now places were burning and strange people were asking questions concerning her whereabouts.

“Hmm…” She definitely needed to let her grandparents know, but first she wanted to check out the rest of the house, so she left the bathroom and headed further down the hall.

Only one door remained before the stairs—on the same side of the hall as the master bedroom. Layla reached for the shiny, silver knob and pushed, expecting a closet or a spare bedroom. What she didn’t expect was a vacant chamber with white walls, bare wooden floors, and no furniture, not even a curtain. Odd considering the other rooms were very detailed in their décor. At first Layla couldn’t imagine why her parents hadn’t put themselves into this room as well. Then it slapped her across the face—the room was meant to be a nursery. She stumbled backward and quickly closed the door, deciding she wouldn’t be returning to
that
room anytime soon.

Shaking the sorrow away, she climbed the stairs to the second level, finding three doors to choose from—one immediately to her right, which she assumed led to the turret room; and two down the hall, directly across from each other. Wanting to save the turret room for last, she headed for the others.

The door on the left was another bathroom, much like the guest bath downstairs, and the door on the right opened to a guestroom with a cottage motif. The colors were much softer than the blue and green palette splashing the master bedroom, and the frames on these walls held landscapes instead of erotic art, but the two rooms were similar in size, and both boasted large furniture and a sitting area by the window.

After taking in the details, Layla closed the door and headed for the turret room, climbing a narrow flight of spiral stairs to the highest point in the house. As she rounded the last turn and entered the circular chamber, rainbows dazzled her eyes, flashing through various gemstones that hung from the domed ceiling by fine silver thread.

The bright, airy room was much bigger than she thought it would be, and far more beautiful than she imagined. Two tall windows faced the east and west, and the ceiling had a skylight, illuminating the room for as long as the sun kissed the sky. Composed of pale planks of weathered wood, the floor had a white area rug spread beneath a curved white sofa and a round driftwood table, which held a vase of blue and green roses. Near the western window sat an easel and painting supplies, while the eastern window poured light on an acoustic guitar and a wooden stool.

Layla’s eyes had adjusted to the light, so she set her phone and coffee aside and moved to the eastern window, getting her first sunlit view of the coven’s lawn. The green grass and pristine houses sparkled with dew, and the gardens stretched for the rising sun.

“Wow,” she breathed, taking a moment to memorize the magical landscape.

Once she could close her eyes and still see the view, she moved to the western window, where she found another breathtaking vista—clusters of trees so tall and packed together so tightly, she couldn’t see ten feet into them or an inch of sky above them. Peaceful yet powerful, the vast stretch of nature gave her a tingly feeling in her tummy.

She walked to the guitar and pulled it from its carved, wooden stand. She loved the acoustic guitar as much as she loved the piano. Had she not been swamped with extracurricular activities growing up, she would have learned to play. As she ran a hand down the guitar’s polished neck, she wondered if it had belonged to her mom or her dad. Neither of them had played in the memories, but both had been musically inclined.

Taking a seat on the stool, she propped the guitar on her lap, deciding by its size that it must have been her dad’s. She strummed, pressed a few strings then strummed again. Maybe she’d learn to play after all. What else did she have to do?

“Magic,” she exclaimed, popping her head up. That’s what she’d do.

Chapter 10

V
eins pulsing with adrenaline, Layla
found the house phone in the living room then dialed the number boldly written across a nearby notepad.

Half a ring later, Morrigan answered. “Hello?”

Layla beamed, already familiar with her grandma’s dulcet voice. “Hi.”

“Layla, sweetie. How are you this morning?”

“Good. What are you doing?”

“Daleen and I are having coffee, waiting to hear from you.”

“Would you like to come over?”

“We would
love
to come over. Do you need us to bring anything?”

“Um... I haven’t had breakfast, and I don’t know what’s here.”

“Not much. I wanted your input before stocking the fridge. What would you like for breakfast?”

“An apple and toast is fine.”

“Apple and toast,” Morrigan repeated. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Yes, actually. The bag I brought with me is running low on clothes.”

“Do the clothes in the closet not fit?”

“Well, I haven’t tried anything on yet, but that’s not really the problem.”

“Tell me the problem, sweetie, and I’ll fix it.”

“Well...” Layla mumbled, cheeks growing warm. “I couldn’t find any underclothes.”

“Oh,” Morrigan replied, quietly laughing. “I’m sorry. I should have considered that.”

“That’s okay. I have some in my car, but I don’t know how to get to them.”

“Steer clear of the bedroom. I’ll send your things over before heading that way.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. We’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Layla hung up and rushed to the bedroom closet, grabbing one of the few outfits that included pants instead of a skirt. The top was long-sleeved and embroidered with emerald green roses, and the bottoms were skinny, white slacks.

Since her stuff would be appearing in the bedroom soon, she decided to use the guest bathroom to shower and dress. Being crushed by her luggage would make for a funny anecdote, but it wasn’t worth the humiliation.

Even though she washed and rinsed quickly, the doorbell rang as she was getting dressed, so she ran down the hall while yanking the shirt over her head. When she opened the door, her grandmothers’ delighted auras filled the entryway.

“That shirt looks lovely on you,” Morrigan praised, pulling her into a hug. “I’m glad it fits. Making your wardrobe was a guessing game.”

Layla’s eyebrows shot up. “You made those clothes?”

“Sure,” Morrigan confirmed, stepping aside for Daleen, who anxiously pulled Layla into a hug.

“Good morning, my darling,” she sighed. “It’s wonderful to see your smile.”

“You, too,” Layla returned, closing the door. “Looks like rain.”

Morrigan laughed. “It always looks like rain around here, even if it’s dry.”

“I like the rain,” Layla noted, joining them in the living room.

“Then you’ve come to the right place,” Morrigan assured.

Layla smiled as she motioned toward the kitchen. “I’d offer you coffee, but I don’t have any made. Quin spoiled me with a cup of Cinnia’s this morning.”

“How sweet of him,” Morrigan replied, glancing down the hall. “Did you get your luggage?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been back in there. Do you want coffee? I can make some.”

“Only if you want some,” Daleen answered. “We’re all coffeed out at the moment.”

“Coffeed out?” Layla countered. “Is there such a thing?”

Daleen laughed and took Layla’s hand. “I take it you really like coffee?”

“I’m an addict. It’s pretty bad.”

Morrigan smiled as she headed for the kitchen. “Then I’ll make you some while you eat breakfast.”

“Okay,” Layla agreed, pulling Daleen along.

While Morrigan made coffee, Daleen summoned a sliced and peeled apple and a piece of buttered toast.

“Thank you,” Layla murmured, digging in.

A moment of silence passed while she ate her toast. Then Morrigan spoke as she sat down with a fresh cup of coffee. “What would you like to do today?”

“I was hoping you’d help me practice magic,” Layla answered.

“That sounds fun,” Daleen approved. “You have so much to learn. It will be wonderful watching you discover your abilities.”

“Yes,” Morrigan agreed. “I’m very excited about it. Is there something in particular you’d like to start with?”

“The important stuff,” Layla answered. “I need to figure out flying, and I need to learn the concealment spell. Oh, and I’d love to get better at elemental magic. I want to know which one’s my best one.”

Daleen smiled as she played with a long curl. “We’ll help with whatever you need, but don’t put too much pressure on yourself. You have plenty of time to learn.”

“I know,” Layla mumbled, taking another bite, “but it’s not like I have a job or anything. Might as well learn what I’m capable of. Plus, I’m really excited about it.”

“We can tell,” Morrigan observed.

“Is there a way to make flying safe?” Layla asked, grabbing her last slice of apple.

“We’ll keep you safe,” Daleen assured.

“Okay,” Layla agreed, confident in the claim. “Is there somewhere we can practice that won’t have people around? I don’t want to make a fool of myself around anyone but you two.”

“Sure,” Morrigan answered, vanishing the bread crumbs from Layla’s plate. “We have a clearing we use for rituals and whatnot. Are you ready now?”

Layla took several gulps of coffee then stood. “Yes. No…” She blushed as she glanced over her shoulder. “I need to go find my underwear.”

“We’ll wait,” they replied, and Layla rushed from the kitchen.

A pile of bags and suitcases sat outside her closet door, and she visually searched it, pinpointing the bag that held the bulk of her underclothes. It seemed to take forever to put on a pair of panties, and she was still fastening her pants when she returned to the kitchen.

“Ready,” she announced.

“Then let’s not delay,” Morrigan said, heading for a door in the south-west corner of the kitchen.

Layla followed her outside, gasping as she stepped onto a large, wooden deck. Mouth hanging open, she flipped her gaze left and right, finding dozens of full flower boxes, and six comfy lounge chairs, which formed a half-circle around an empty fire pit. Beyond the fire pit, a miniature dock stretched over a sparkling pond big enough to swim in. Fed by a small, three-tiered waterfall, the bright body of water was surrounded by smooth slabs of granite and artistic beds of greenery.

Layla moved to the edge of the dock and peered into the water’s depths, gasping at the colorful fish swimming beneath huge, floating lily pads. And as if it wasn’t already the most beautiful pond she’d ever seen, shiny blue and green gems coated the bottom, capturing the sun and casting prisms.

Morrigan joined her on the dock and laid a hand on her shoulder. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” Layla whispered.

Morrigan beamed and motioned toward the chairs. “Do you want to sit for a while?”

“Tempting,” Layla answered, “but my heart’s set on magic.”

She glanced at her bare feet then looked at her grandmothers’ feet, which were also bare. Must be a magician thing, she decided, sitting on a chair so she could toughen her soles and lightened her step—a spell Quin had taught her at his aunt Karena’s inn.

“All set,” she said, getting to her armored feet.

While traversing dark woods brimming with wild undergrowth, Layla listened to her grandmothers explain the theory of concealment, so she had a decent grasp on the idea by the time they stepped into a round clearing half the size of the coven’s lawn. Flawlessly manicured and completely empty, the glade was ideal for making a fool of one’s self.

“Excellent,” Layla approved.

The lesson proceeded better than she’d hoped, and after a few hours of testing her magic, she was bursting with post-power euphoria and confidence. It only took her three tries to thoroughly conceal her body. And following several stubborn attempts, she managed to somewhat lighten her aura—a task her grandmothers claimed was extremely difficult.

After disappearing and reappearing a dozen times, Layla set her mind on flying, finding it fairly easy to do. But it took a while, because she obsessed over every detail and safety precaution, hovering from the ground inch by careful inch. By the time she reached the treetops, she’d grown comfortable with the weightless feeling, so she shot forward, flying ten easy circles around the clearing.

“That was amazing,” she gushed, landing in front of her grandmothers. “I’ve never felt so... so free.”

“You’re amazing,” Daleen countered. “No one would ever know you’re new to the gift.”

“I can’t take all the credit,” Layla returned. “I’ve had excellent teachers.” She bounced and wiggled. She couldn’t hold still, so she turned and grabbed their hands. “Will you fly with me?”

“Yes,” they agreed, so the three of them soared into the air.

After a few laps, Layla let go of their hands and halted.

“Is everything okay?” Morrigan asked, swiftly spinning around.

“Everything’s great,” Layla answered. “I just want to try something. Will you guys catch me if I fall?”

“Of course,” they replied.

Layla grinned as she floated backward, giving herself plenty of room. Then she tucked into a whirlwind of somersaults and horizontal spins. It was like doing them under water, but much smoother and without the resistance of compressed liquid. It felt fantastic, and it didn’t even make her dizzy.

“Wow,” she breathed, floating upright with perfect balance. “That was fun.”

“And graceful,” Morrigan added.

“Beautiful,” Daleen agreed. “We should have hummed a tune to go along with it.”

“I don’t know how you guys get anything done,” Layla laughed, launching into a back flip. “This is too much fun.”

Around one, after practicing the art of an emergency landing—the trick was the trajectory of flight at the point of impact combined with focused shock absorption—Layla flew with her grandmas to her house for sandwiches. She hadn’t practiced elemental magic, but she was satisfied with her improvement and figured she better stop while she was ahead. Plus, she didn’t want to use up all the fun in one day.

Halfway through their meal, Layla steeled her nerve and brought up a scary subject. “I guess I need to meet the rest of the coven soon.”

Morrigan and Daleen traded glances. Then Morrigan set her sandwich down and dusted crumbs from her fingers. “I’m glad you mentioned it, sweetie, because we need to talk about that.”

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