Retribution (47 page)

“It may numb the pain of sadness, but it has its own method of torture, and you know it.” He paused and pulled her tighter against him. “Besides, you're just delaying the grief. It's still there, and it's going to be there when the anger subsides, no matter how long you wait. Please let it go. For me.”

“It’s got a hold on me, Quin. I don't know how to let it go.”

“Then I’ll help you,” he offered. “Close your eyes.” He waited while she reluctantly obeyed. Then he lay back on the grass and tucked her in beside him, resting her head on his arm. As he brushed her hair from her face, she peaked at him with one eye, and he cracked a smile. “You're already fighting me, Layla. I can tell you don't want this to work.”

“So? Fix it anyway.”

“A challenge, huh?”

“Or you could forget it and let me be. It will pass eventually.”

He scowled at her closed lids, somewhat surprised by her taunts, but he wasn’t discouraged by her stubbornness. Time was running out, and there was no way in hell he'd spend the last hours of his life holding an angry angel.

He moved his hand to her chest and slid the loose cotton of her dress aside, touching the skin over her heart. After counting the organ's fitful beats for several seconds, he leaned in and kissed the erratically pulsing flesh, focusing on the reasons her heart usually beat, all the love and kindness it portrayed, and he hoped to draw her attention to them as well, help her rediscover the virtuous beauty beneath the anger. He found it every time he looked at her, even in the most tumultuous situations. And when he touched her, when her heartbeat thumped against his flesh, pulsed within his ears, and throbbed along his core, he gained what was hers. All the internal beauty she possessed momentarily became his, and he was, for a sublime moment in time, the man he always wanted to be, the man she needed him to be.

The tranquility of the moment should have slowed his heart, but his pulse remained sporadic, beating in time with hers. Confused and intrigued, he furrowed his eyebrows. Not because it was a new occurrence. Several times in the past, when they'd been wholly in tune with each other, on the same level emotionally, mentally and physically, their hearts beat as one. But at the moment, they were on entirely different levels, yet his heart ignored his body, reacting to hers instead.

He kept his lips to her heart while finding her hand. Then he touched her fingertips to the left side of his chest, holding them there as he waited for her pulse to shift. When it did, he felt his own shift, and so did she. He knew because their hearts skipped and leapt. She felt it and she liked it.

He kissed the warm skin thumping against his lips. Then he moved to her face, kissing her forehead, eyelids, cheeks and nose. By the time he made it to her lips, they were shaking, and tears streamed down her temples. He let the moisture flow. It needed to be shed, so he kept her in a soft kiss while holding her hand to his heart. She sobbed, unable to contribute to the kiss, but he didn’t need her to. He needed to provide her with a safe place to mourn.

“I hate this,” she repeated, but with much less conviction than before.

“I know,” he whispered.

She clutched his face in both hands and sobbed again. “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay, angel. This is a sad situation. You have every right to be sad.”

“I'm so sad, Quin.”

“I know, love.” And he did. Her sadness gripped his insides and twisted.

“And that makes me angry,” she added, but there wasn't any anger in her voice, just grief and pain.

“That's okay, too,” he assured. “We'll put that anger with the rest of it. Then we'll have a steady supply when we need it.”

She trembled as more emotions bubbled to the surface. “I'm sorry I scared you.”

“Don't worry about that. I told you to express your feelings, and you did. Quite clearly.”

“Bri and Bann were scared of me. I hate that.”

“They just haven't ever seen you mad. Now they know.”

“What about you? You seemed worried I’d do something, that I’d lose control.”

He sighed as he dried her tears. “Your eyes flashed, and that scared me.”

Her forehead creased. “My eyes did what?”

“Changed color.”

“Oh,” she breathed, finding him with shiny emeralds. “I didn't know. What color?”

He hesitated then quietly answered. “Black.”

A disappointed look flashed across her face. “Black? Of all the possibilities, they turn black? Is that normal?”

“I don’t know. That’s not something you see in everyone you meet. It takes intense anger to trigger it, and magicians are generally mellow.”

“Oh.” She swallowed and looked away, sadness washing over her as she compared herself to the rage-fueled wizards she’d come across.

“It's okay, Layla. Your anger is justified.” He moved his hand to her heart and brushed a kiss across her lips. “The past two weeks have put you through hell, and you have every right to be pissed off at the world. If I had to deal with the bullshit you have, I would have lost my mind days ago. But over and over again you've amazed me by bouncing up when something slams you down. Your resilience is inspiring, and your regard for life makes you live each day separately and entirely. When one of them sucks, you move on to the next, waking up with sunshine in your eyes.”

“You make me sound strong, but I'm not.”

“Yes you are, love. You're the strongest woman I've ever met.”

“I'm a crybaby.”

“Crying isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a result of love, sympathy, and pain, which you’ve been enduring since you got here. But you’re too stubborn to be weak. You’d take on the whole world before you’d surrender what you cherish.”

“I hold so much,” she whispered. “I don’t want to let it go.”

He smiled and nuzzled her nose. “See? Stubborn.”

She stared into his eyes, her forefingers dipping into his dimples. “How do you do that? How can you be so sad one minute, then showing me these dimples the next?”

“That's an easy one.”

“Let's hear it.”

“I have an angel.”

Her heart stuttered, and so did his.
 

“You light up the dark, Layla, and I do the same for you. It just takes more effort on my part because you’re dealing with more heartache. But when we do find each other, the pain melts away and life is perfect, if only for a while. We’re lucky to have such a beautiful diversion from the hardships of the world.”

“Lucky,” she repeated. “Not many people in our situation would find that word applicable to their lives.”

“That's because you're mine, not theirs.”

Her eyes moistened again, but her lips curved into a sweet smile. “You’re right. I am lucky. Thank you for reminding me.”

“Anytime, my love.”

She sighed then pulled him into a kiss. “We should get back to the others.”

“If you're ready.”

She gave him another kiss, then another. “Now I am.”

“Okay,” he agreed, going in for one more kiss.

He stood. Then he waited while she cleaned her face and magicked tangles from her hair. When she offered her hand, he took it, and he immediately noticed a shift in his heart rate. Once she was on her feet, he let go of her. Then he focused on his pulse while touching her arm.

“What's up?” she asked, glancing between his face and hand.

He tested the miracle once more, getting the exact same results, and his eyes widened as he grinned. “My heartbeat changes when I touch you.”

“What?”

“My heart,” he elaborated. “It starts keeping time with yours when I make skin contact with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“It hasn't always been that way?”

“No. This is brand new.”

“But nothing's changed. Why would your heart suddenly change?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it happened when you got upset. When your eyes flashed, I felt something I’ve never felt before, like a jolt to the heart, but then it went away.”

She moved closer, looking up at him with big eyes as she touched the left side of his chest. “Does it hurt?”

“Are you kidding?” He pressed her palm tighter against a pulse that wasn't just his, but theirs. “I don’t think I can properly express how good it feels; how happy it makes me to share the beats of your heart. I couldn't keep my hands off you before. Now there's a whole new element adding fuel to my desire.” He paused to absorb her pulse… literally. “Yep, I'm already hooked.”

She smiled as she took his hand and headed for the other side of the lawn. “Maybe we should get a pair of handcuffs and chain ourselves together.”

“I like the way you think, angel, but handcuffs would limit where my hand goes, and I don't like that at all.”

“Hmm... good thinking. Guess I'll just have to keep my claws in you at all times.”

“Sounds perfect. I love being your scratching post.”

“Then I won't retract the daggers.”

When they reached the circle of magicians, all of them looked up, and Layla's cheeks burned as she tucked her face into Quin's side. He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders, and she took a few deep breaths before pulling away and heading for her cousins.

“I'm sorry I worried you,” she said, pulling Banning into a hug. “I wasn't angry with you.”

He lifted her from the ground as he hugged her back. “I know. It’s this situation. It sucks.”

“Yes it does,” Layla agreed, pulling Brietta off Kegan’s lap. Then she gave her a tight hug as she whispered in her ear. “I’m so sorry, Bri, for scaring you and for getting you into this mess.”

“I’m here because I choose to be,” Brietta insisted. “So stop apologizing.”

Layla backed up and sadly looked between the siblings. “I still hate that you’re doing this, so if either of you feel like making my day, bow out, because I’d be thrilled to accept your resignations.”

“I second that,” Quin added. Then he led Layla away before Banning or Brietta could argue or crush Layla’s hopes.

“Are we done with the formalities?” he asked.
 

“Yes,” Catigern answered. “The final count is 206, and we might get a few more volunteers before the time comes.”

Layla's mouth fell open, and Quin smiled. “Guess we have the edge now,” he noted, squeezing her hand. Then he looked at Serafin and motioned for him to stand. “Check this out.”

Serafin got to his feet and moved forward. “Check what out?”

“Give him your wrist, Layla,” Quin instructed.

Layla obeyed, and Serafin worriedly scanned her wrist before curiously looking at Quin. “What am I supposed to check out?”

“Her pulse,” Quin answered, offering his own hand. “Check hers and mine at the same time.”

Serafin did as he was told, holding both of their wrists while concentrating on their heart rates. Then his eyebrows raised and furrowed. “They're beating in sync,” he observed, “not uncommon for bonded mates, but it doesn’t happen when they’re surrounded by people and sad situations.”

“Exactly,” Quin replied. “Keep paying attention.” He waited for Serafin to delve back into his task. Then he let go of Layla's hand for several seconds before taking it back.

“Amazing,” Serafin whispered. “Do it again.”

Quin gave him another sample of the miracle, and Serafin’s chest expanded as he flashed a grin. “Incredible.”

Layla jolted as those surrounded in gold jumped from their chairs and approached. “What’s incredible?”

“His heart,” Serafin answered, “it instantly changes its rate the moment he touches her, adapting to what hers is doing.”

Everyone stood from their chairs, and Layla blushed as the crowd moved in for a closer look.

“It's doing what?” Caitrin asked, taking their wrists from Serafin.

Quin let go of Layla's hand, waited, then took it back, and Caitrin's eyes widened. “Impossible,” he mumbled, handing their wrists to Kemble.

Layla giggled, but abruptly stopped as her blush darkened.

Quin smiled as he moved closer and squeezed her hand. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing really,” she answered, her eyes nervously flashing around. “It's just kind of funny that people keep using the word...”
 

“Impossible indeed,” Kemble exclaimed, passing their wrists to Cordelia.

Layla laughed and pointed at Kemble. “There it was again. People keep using the word impossible, but it hardly ever applies anymore.”

Quin's smile widened. “You're right. After all the impossible feats you've performed, the word holds very little value. We should probably omit it from our vocabulary.”

“You're performing this one.”

“I don’t think so,” he disagreed. “You're the miracle worker. I'm just the lucky man holding your hand.”

“What kind of miracles has she worked?” Caitlyn asked.

Layla looked over, surprised Caitlyn was taking an interest in her when she usually tried to avoid her. The two of them made eye contact, and Caitlyn's fair skin flushed as her posture dropped. This was a shock as well. Layla was under the impression she was the only witch with insecurity issues.