Retribution (72 page)

“Seventeen years?” Serafin repeated.

“Yes,” Layla answered. “When Alistair heard magicians were gathering for a stand against Agro, he sent this group to see if any of us were unusual, but after seventeen years of failure, none of them counted on success. Sloan was pretty excited about finding me. If I’m who they’re looking for, the payoff would be huge, millions for everyone involved.”
 

“Did you see if Alistair is an American?” Morrigan asked.

“He is,” Layla answered. “He meets the mercenaries in Vermont, near the Canadian border.”

“Why haven’t we heard of this man?” Serafin mumbled. “An American wizard who can afford to keep mercenaries on his payroll, someone with millions to reward a job well done, yet we've never even heard his name.”

“He gets financial backing from foreigners,” Layla explained, “and there are other hired hands searching for the same witch in other countries. Alistair’s just the American liaison.”

“No,” Quin breathed, his face draining of color.

“Yes,” Layla sadly confirmed. “There's another coalition searching as well. They're trying to find the witch before Alistair's associates do. A group from that company is probably close by. They tend to tail the mercenaries when they're sent on an assignment.”

“Shit,” Quin muttered. Then he shook his head, like he was trying to forget what he just heard. “We need to clear this trash out of the way,” he said, motioning to the pile, “and put this news on the back burner. None of it matters if we don't make it through tonight.”

“I second that,” Layla agreed. Then she pointed to the witch who started the scuffle with her lie. “Be careful with that one. She's filled with a lot more fire than I usually summon into people. That's what knocked her out.”

“We'll sedate them and secure them with magic,” Caitrin decided, “then place them out of the way until later.” He stretched his hands out over the mound of mercenaries then looked at Serafin and Kemble. “Ready?”

Picking up the pile with magic, the three men flew northeast with it, ignoring the crude protests rising from within the tangled mess of limbs.

Chapter 49

Only magic kept Layla’s heart from beating like a drum-roll as she and Quin held each other, submerging themselves in heaven on earth one last time before risking their lives for it. The organ in her aching chest wanted to emulate the quick
tick tick tick
of time – time slipping away too damn fast – but she wouldn't let it. If their muscles went numb, he’d loosen his hold on her, and she needed his tight embrace like she needed air. How much longer would she have it?

Not long enough.

A hawk swooped into the basin, screeching its presence, and despite Layla's efforts, her heart sped and her muscles numbed. She lost Quin's tight embrace.
 

They looked away from each other, and he waved a hand, releasing the concealment spells he'd placed on his great-grandfather.

When Catigern approached, he grasped Quin’s forearm with one hand and laid the other on his shoulder. “You hooked him. He’s less than five minutes behind me. Are you ready?”

“We still need to cast a shield,” Quin answered.

“Then I'll let you get to it.”
 

A short moment of silence passed as Catigern stared into Quin’s eyes, but then he squeezed and let go. Turning to Layla, he offered her a warm smile as he touched her cheek, but he didn’t say anything more before moving away.

Once Catigern had joined the rest of their family in the back row, Kemble and Cordelia followed Quin to the west end of their soldiers, while Layla's grandparents accompanied her to the east end. Floating twenty feet into the air, Quin and Layla faced each other. Then translucent and sparkly fog seeped from their outstretched hands, spreading twenty feet down to the icy ground and thirty feet up to the top of the rocky crag. The two clouds stretched over the soldiers' heads and out in front of the leading line. Then they converged in the middle to form a massive shield. Layla and Quin forced their way inside. Then they turned their backs on each other and closed the gaps.

While the barrier was being cast, Caitrin explained to their allies that the shield would guard against everything except fire, and he'd stressed how important is was that everyone wait for the command before attacking. “If someone prematurely throws a fireball through the shield, the Unforgivables will immediately realize its vulnerability, and they won't hesitate to use it. Our powerful preemptive strike will become mediocre if we don't cast the spells at the same time. Once you've released them, the shield will come down and the magic you perform will be your own.”

Reuniting in front of their army, the four bonded couples sadly stared at one another, unready for the end. Quin glanced at Layla. Then he turned away from her, pulling his tearful mom into a tight hug while watching his dad's eyes.

With the exception of her speeding heart, Layla's chest felt solid, like it was filled with coagulating cement and oxygen had to seep through tiny air pockets to get to her lungs. She hardly felt like she was breathing at all, and even though her muscles were numb, her throat was achingly tight.
 

Her eyes filled with moisture as she watched Quin hug his mom, and when she turned to her grandparents, the tears broke free. She wanted to say so many things, but she couldn't find it in herself to speak them out loud, so instead of trying to say it all, she spoke the most important. “I love you guys, all of you. Thank you for...” She took a shaky breath then finished with enormous effort. “...everything.”

All four of them converged on her at once, encasing her in one big hug, and they each whispered their own endearments, showing her love in so many ways. When they reluctantly left the embrace, they kept their hands on her.

“This isn't goodbye, Layla Love,” Serafin assured. “Now that we've found each other, we'll always be together.”

“Always,” Daleen agreed, jarring tears loose with an avid nod.
 

Caitrin reached for Layla’s cheek, drying it as he whispered. “No matter what happens, honey, you keep fighting. You and Quinlan are to never give up. Do you understand me?”

Layla nodded, barely stifling a gagging sob. Then Morrigan's palm soothingly stroked the curls framing her face. “We love you, sweetie.”

She dropped her hand and turned into Caitrin's neck, gasping and shaking, and he let his fingers fall from Layla's cheek as he backed away.

Daleen moved closer and kissed Layla's forehead. “Be strong, my darling, and let Quin help you.”

She moved back so Serafin could kiss the same spot, and after wrapping each other in a hug, they took a moment to stare into Layla’s eyes. Daleen’s lips curved into a quivering smile. Then she mouthed the words
we love you
before letting Serafin lead her away.

Layla blinked, and Quin moved in, sweeping her off her feet and spinning her around. She was still trying to catch her breath when he dipped her back, burying his face in her cleavage as he deeply inhaled. Then he kissed his way up her chest. When he found her lips, one of his hands swam through her curls and took the back of her neck. Then he pulled her into a breathtaking kiss.

She clutched his cheeks and kissed him back, molding her body to his, and the moisture flowed from her eyes in torrents – tears of happiness merging with tears of sadness to form schizophrenic rivers.

“They’re almost here,” Caitrin announced.

Quin and Layla stopped kissing, but they stayed close, breathing each other in and watching each other’s eyes as they listened to Caitrin.

“I sense them to the west,” he added. “They’re not flying in. They’re staying low.”

Quin gave Layla another kiss. “I love you, my perfect angel.”

“I love you, too, my thorough hero.”

“Don't let go for anything.”

“Never, Quin.”

He tenderly dried her tears. Then he lowered her feet to the ice and pulled her fingers to his mouth, breathing one last burst of heat into her body.

The army nervously shifted. Then Caitrin quietly spoke. “It’s time.”

Quin and Layla maintained eye contact, drawing strength from each other as their hearts pumped faster, further deadening their sense of touch.

“Forever,” he whispered, pulling her palm to his heart.

She swallowed, her fingers flexing over rapidly pulsing flesh. “Forever.”

He let her right hand slip away from his heart, but he tightened his hold on her left hand as they turned away from each other.

A profusion of crimson cloaks flowed from behind the jagged base of a westward mountain, bleeding out over the snowy glacier, and Layla remained surprisingly calm as she watched them approach. Yes, she was scared and sad and angry. But physically, she was steady, no shaking, tensing or fidgeting.

The enemy slithered across the frozen valley, noiselessly alighting on the ice forty yards away. Then they formed a multilayered circle around their boss.

“Move,” he ordered. “I want to see her.”

The Unforgivables shifted, and Layla found Agro’s eyes – those that taught her hate and vengeance. His aura expanded as he walked forward, exposing his hunger and impatience, and his watchdogs moved with him, ready to cast their shields to protect him. If his appearance was any indication, he needed the safeguard. He was too thin, his sallow skin sinking into bone, and his eyes, though wide with greed as they took her in, were trapped in dark circles. He looked like a tired, unhealthy and disturbed old man, nothing like the killer in her parents’ memories.

He stopped less than twenty feet from the shield and stared through it. “Nobody move,” he hissed. “This one will be taken alive.” Shedding his anger, he smiled at his mark. “Hi, Layla. You're even more beautiful than I anticipated.” His gaze flipped to her aura then back to her eyes. “And more powerful.”

Layla took a deep breath as the blood rushing from her accelerated heart grew hotter, her skin flushing over feverish veins.

“You've gone to great lengths to avoid me,” he added, “when all I ever wanted was a friendly chat.”

“Liar.” The word burst from her mouth, like something deep inside her had condemned him and was listing his crimes.

Agro and his aura froze, and his lips parted as he listened to her voice. When his aura started flowing again, he tilted his head and smiled. “Liar?”

“And an idiot if you think I’m going to believe a word you say.” She didn’t know where that had come from either, but it came easily, so she kept going. “Surely you, a man who believes I’m all-powerful, don’t really expect me to buy the bullshit you're selling. You think I don’t know what you’ve done? The havoc you’ve wreaked on me and my family. And on the hundreds of people behind me.”

Agro's chest rose and fell as his nostrils flared and his lips twitched. “Misunderstandings.”

“Evil,” she shot back. “You’re an evil man. You've spent more than sixty years ruining lives, but you’re done. Even if I have to escort you to hell, I’m going to make sure you burn.”

Agro no longer clung to false charm, and both armies were getting increasingly nervous. “You speak bold words,” he icily noted. “Of course, I expected nothing less.” He paused, looking for his best course of action. Then he changed tactics. “You speak on behalf of the people behind you, as if you care for them, but I wonder… Are you here for them, or are they here for you?” He paused for effect, and his orange eyes brightened within narrow lids. “I’ll pardon them all, Layla, with a promise to never pursue any of them again, and all I want in return is a private chat with you.”

Quin’s hand tightened around hers, but his concern was unnecessary. Yes, Layla wanted to save the people behind her, every last one of them, but they didn’t want to be saved. That wasn’t why they were there.

Agro’s impatience flared, but he was outnumbered and determined to bring Layla in peacefully. “You speak as though you're their martyr,” he taunted. “But how much are you willing to forfeit for them? Will you let them serve as your armor? Watch them die while you struggle against the inevitable? Are you as pure as you look? Or will you have them seeking your vengeance for you?”

“They're not seeking my vengeance,” she corrected. “These are your victims, not mine. You've tortured, raped and murdered their loved ones; destroyed their homes, businesses and lives. They're not here for your pardon. You're the accused, and we're here to serve the justice owed to all of us.”

“Is that so,” he bitterly replied, flames licking his eyes. “Or maybe a few of them have more sense than you think.” He kept his gaze on her face as he addressed the magicians behind her. “Are there any among you sensible enough to surrender the witch leading you to your death in exchange for a long and free life?”

A tense moment of silence ticked by, and Layla and Quin struggled not to turn away from the Unforgivables so they could suspiciously search their own army. But if any of them entertained the offer, they must have thought better of it, because no one said a word or moved out of line.

This did not please Agro. “You refuse to handle this peacefully.”
 

Layla raised an eyebrow. “Did you really believe I’d willingly join you?”

“It’s with me and only me that you’d flourish into the witch you’re meant to be, a witch who could hold this world in the palm of her hand.”