Impassion (Mystic) (5 page)

After getting dressed and running a comb through her hair, she observed herself in the floor mirror. The straps of her bra showed, and the itchy undergarment didn’t make much of a difference anyway. The thick material of her tank top provided plenty of cover, so she stuffed the bra back into her bag and walked to the door.

Quin was leaning against the wall, looking guilty, but he relaxed when he saw her. “I’m sorry, Layla. It was inappropriate to wait in the bedroom.”

She took his hands and pulled him from the wall. “I’m not mad.”

“No?”

She looked down and fidgeted with his fingers. “Did you not like what you saw?”

Quin hadn’t given himself time to properly take in the view, but the brief eyeful he’d gotten was tempting enough to make even the strongest man weak. “Honestly?”

“Yes, please.”

He pulled one of her hands to his lips, letting his confession slip over soft fingertips. “If I were a lesser man, I would have vanished your towels and taken you to bed.” He spoke the truth. He’d already visualized the scenario. What he didn’t tell her was that under different circumstances, gentleman or not, his twitching hands would have already explored a good portion of her body. “Let’s leave it at that,” he added, watching the top of her head.

“Then I have no reason to be upset,” she replied, burying her face in his chest.

He wrapped her in a hug and tucked his chin in, smelling her moist hair. “Nevertheless, I’ll be more careful about your privacy from now on.”

After another deep breath and a kiss, he stepped back and scanned her clothed body. When his gaze slid over her loose tank top, he recalled the beauty beneath the satin, and knew his aura must be racing. “You look beautiful,” he offered, flashing a smile.

Her face reddened, but her eyes stayed on his. “Thank you.”

“Are you ready?”

She squirmed, her chest rising as her lungs quickened. “Um... yeah.”

“It’s going to be okay.”

“I know.”

“Is there anything I can do to make the jump easier?”

She bit her lip, watching him through fluttering lashes. “What are you doing later?”

“No plans,” he answered, stifling his humor as he waited for an invite, which took her several nervous seconds to give.

“Would you like to come back over? Unless you have things to do. I’d understand if you need a break...”

Her babbling came to a halt when he touched her lips. “I would love to come back over. I was hoping you’d ask.”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I’ve ever been. Is there anything else you need?”

“Hmm...” Her pout wiggled as she thought, and he kept his finger on it, observing every tweak of her stunning features. When she raised her eyes to his, they were wide with exaggerated innocence. “There is one more thing.”

“Name it.”

She turned into the bedroom and skipped to the coffee table, picking up her empty mug. “Please,” she pleaded, flashing a pucker.

Quin laughed as he crossed the room. “More coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“You are an addict.”

“I tried to warn you.”

“Yes you did.” He took her cup then led her toward the kitchen. “Cinnia isn’t here right now, so it won’t be as good.”

“We can’t always have perfect. I had to drink the average stuff for six years. Can you imagine how addicted I’d be if I’d been raised on Cinnia’s coffee?”

“You’d need an IV,” he teased.

They entered the kitchen, and he pulled out a chair, motioning for her to sit as he moved to the counter. While she sat and swung her legs, he magically prepared an entire pot of coffee then fixed a cup just the way she liked it.

He carried the mug to the table. Then he set it aside and pulled her to her feet. “I should feel guilty for giving an addict her fix, but that smile’s too good to deny.”

Her grin widened. “Thank you for your endless understanding.”

“You’re welcome. What else can I do for you?”

“This could go on forever, Quin. Eventually you’ll have to push me off the diving board.”

“I would never do that.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath then slowly let it out. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“I’ll come back in by myself before letting them in.”

“I would appreciate that.”

“But once they’re here, I’m going to leave.”

“Okay,” she agreed, pouting and blushing at the same time. “I’m going to miss you.”

He took her cheeks and leaned close, giving her a soft kiss. “I’ll miss you, too, but as soon as you’ve had enough time with them, I’ll come back.”

He started to drop his hands, but she grabbed his wrists. “Thank you, Quin.”

He kissed her again, then again. Then he smiled. “See you in a minute.”

She nodded as she released him, letting him walk from the kitchen. Then she stood still, stomach flipping as she listened to the front door close. Only then did she grab her coffee and move to the living room.

She found her backpack on the couch and dug out her cell phone, tossing the bag aside as she checked for missed calls. There were three from Phyllis Carter and one from Travis Baker, her friends in Oklahoma. And there was one from Gerald Greene, her financial lawyer. Unsurprising since she’d neglected to contact any of them the previous day.

She didn’t have time to call them back now, and she had no idea what she’d say when she did.
Hi. Found my family, but guess what? We’re a bunch of witches and wizards.
Yeah right.

She turned to set the phone on a nearby table, and her breath caught in her chest as she came face-to-face with the large wedding photo of her parents.

Her breathing resumed, and she moved closer to the framed portrait, viewing it with new eyes, an enhanced perspective. Before witnessing the magical imprint, she’d seen two beautiful strangers. Now she saw two lost loved ones posing for a photo filled with precious memories. Emotion bubbled in her chest, and she wondered if there was any point in fighting the reaction. The impending reunion would likely launch her into an ocean of mixed emotions.

She reached up, gingerly touching the silver frame, and a flash of light caught her eye. For the first time since she’d put it on, she looked at the ring on the third finger of her right hand. She’d gone the entire afternoon without noticing it, and as she stared at the dainty, rose gold band, she realized why. She couldn’t feel it. If she weren’t staring at it, she wouldn’t believe it was there.

She looked closer, admiring the gemstone circled by diamonds. The zultanite sparkled like rich champagne, but when Layla turned her hand, exposing the gem to different light sources, she caught a flash of raspberry pink, soft peach, sage green, and canary yellow.

The front door opened, and she jolted, slopping coffee across her other hand.

“I’m sorry,” Quin offered, walking across the room. “Should I have knocked?”

“No,” she answered, setting her mug aside. “I was just lost in thought.”

Quin took her hand and magically cleaned her mess. Then he kissed her knuckles. “What were you thinking about?”

“I’d just noticed my mom’s ring on my finger.”

He smiled and lifted her right hand. “It’s beautiful.”

“I think so, too.”

“It looks good on you.”

“It feels good on me.”

He kissed that hand as well then looked to her eyes. “They’re here. Are you ready?”

Oh, the butterflies. They ran amok in her belly, flitting around the tightening knot and rising emotion. What a mess. “Yeah.”

He watched her face for a few seconds then released her hands, but she panicked and grabbed him back. “I’ll see you soon, right?”

He moved closer, pulling her shaky palms to his cheeks. “Very soon.”

“Okay.” Her voice shook, too.

“It’s going to be okay, Layla.”

“I know.”

He kissed her palm then let go, giving her a reassuring smile as he headed for the door.

Layla didn’t know what to do with herself. She was nervous and self-conscious as well as scared and emotional. Should she sit? Should she stand? Should she hug or shake hands? Would she recognize them from twenty-one-year-old memories? Would she remember their names when put on the spot? Would they put her on the spot? What would she say if they did? These questions and a million more shot through her mind in the few seconds it took Quin to walk to the door. By the time he paused and looked back, her breathing was labored and her heart pounded so hard it echoed in her ears.

“Breathe,” he suggested.

Her cheeks burned as she tried to steady herself. It didn’t work. She’d never had a panic attack, but feared she was on the brink of one now. “I’m trying. Just get it over with.”

He sighed. Then he opened the door and took a step back.

Golden mist drifted into the foyer, and Layla took two stumbling steps to the couch, bracing herself on the backrest.

Rhosewen’s parents were the first to enter, and despite Layla’s emotional turmoil, she absorbed several details with a sweeping glance. She was amazed by their bonded lights, which were far more impressive in person than in memory and could be felt across the room—a heart-swelling sense of love and security. Layla was also stunned by the fact that twenty-one years had barely aged them. Caitrin’s straight hair remained golden as it swept across his muscular neck, and Morrigan’s caramel curls still flowed to the middle of her slender back. Their fair skin of slightly different shades remained smooth and unwrinkled, and their bodies were straight and sturdy.

Layla looked up, focusing on their faces, and her lungs emptied. Seeing them in the memories had been like seeing extras in a movie. They’d been present, but never prominent. Now their features were lucid and illuminating, leaving Layla breathless.

Rhosewen had clearly inherited Caitrin’s eyes—the aqua color, round shape, long lashes and defined lids—and she’d gotten his high cheekbones, but the rest of her facial features were found in Morrigan, in the brows arching over peach eyes, and in the small nose crowning pouty lips.

Because Rhosewen’s features were so easily found in Caitrin’s and Morrigan’s faces, Layla found herself in there, too—in her grandfather’s round eyes and prominent cheeks, and in her grandmother’s nose, lips and curls.

The golden mist flooding the entryway thickened, and Layla looked over, watching her paternal grandparents move into view.

They, too, were unmarked by time. Daleen’s hair still flowed to her waist like an ebony waterfall, and Serafin’s wavy hair remained dark brown and medium in length. They both had smooth olive-toned skin and green eyes, but Daleen’s eyes were pastel green while Serafin’s were the vivid emerald Layla knew so well.

Standing in a row, the four of them stared with wide eyes, clutching each other as tightly as Layla clutched the couch, which was pretty damn tight. She was squeezing the cushions so hard her fingernails hurt.

She tried to swallow a lump while standing up straight, but the lump barely budged and her upper body swayed. The gracious act of moving toward her guests crossed her mind, but her feet were glued to the floor. Just as well; her knees were too wobbly to take her anywhere.

Steadying herself, she attempted a polite smile, but her lips were numb. “Hi,” was all she could say, and it squeaked out. It was all wrong, so she tried again. “Sorry… so inappropriate.” Her cheeks grew hot as she dropped her gaze, finding herself once again clutching the couch.

“It was perfect,” a woman replied, and Layla looked up, watching Daleen approach. “Hi,” she greeted, reaching for Layla, but she didn’t touch her. She just curled her fingers into the air around her. “We’ve been missing you.”

Layla trembled as the dam cracked, flooding her lashes with moisture. “I don’t know what to say,” she confessed, struggling with insufficient lungs as she searched Daleen’s face. It was beautiful and sincere and like her son’s in so many painful ways.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Daleen assured. “We owe you the world just for letting us get a look at you.”

A sob broke through Layla’s clogged throat, and she dropped her head, squeezing her eyes shut on a swell of tears. “I’m sorry.”

She heard the front door close and sobbed again, angry at herself for being too tender-hearted to face the people who sacrificed so much for her.

She shivered as a hand slid down her hair. Then a woman spoke in a voice so kind and familiar it rocked Layla onto her heels.

“Would you like to sit down, sweetie?”

Layla looked up, finding her mom staring back at her through Morrigan’s affectionate expression; and her legs folded, dropping her into her grandmothers’ stealthy hands. She quickly found her feet, but she couldn’t stifle the tears or breathe without hiccupping, so she did her best to help them get her to the sofa. They sat her between them. Then Morrigan squeezed her shoulders while Daleen stroked her arm.

“I’m sorry,” Layla gasped, burying her face in one hand, partly because she was embarrassed, and partly because everywhere she looked, her parents looked back through the faces of others.

“Don’t be sorry,” Morrigan insisted. “We know this is hard.”

Layla wiped her eyes, fighting to regain control, but her cheeks flamed and her hands shook. “I can see them… I can see them in you guys.”

“We see them in you, too,” Daleen replied. “You’re a beautiful reminder of our children. It hurts to think about Aedan and Rhosewen, but we’re so happy we’re getting this opportunity. We’ve been dreaming about it for twenty-one years. Now you’re here and you’re healthy and so lovely.”

“Thank you,” Layla whispered, meeting Daleen’s stare. “I’m happy to see you, too. I’m just... overwhelmed.”

Layla looked at her lap, wishing she had a tissue. Then an entire box was held out to her. She glanced at the large hand holding it then followed a tan arm to Serafin’s emerald eyes. “Thank you,” she breathed, absently taking a tissue. Whereas before she couldn’t make eye contact, now she couldn’t break it. She couldn’t look away from the gaze that was hers, her father’s and her grandfather’s.

“You’re welcome,” Serafin offered, a sad smile curving wide set lips. “Can I get you anything else?”

Layla shook her head no, still unable to look away.

“I expected resemblances,” he added, “yet they stun the senses. You’re quite the beauty, my dear. It’s marvelous to behold you with my eyes instead of my mind.”

Caitrin stepped closer, and Layla flipped her gaze from one wizard to the other, finding round eyes boasting shiny blue oceans. Caitrin’s fair face and colorful aura were so bright he could have been an angel. In fact, Layla felt like she was sitting on a golden cloud with a whole band of angels.

“So beautiful,” she whispered. “All of you. It feels like a dream.”

Caitrin smiled. “To see you is a dream come true for all of us.”

Looking at them was getting easier. With each passing second, Layla saw more of them and less of her parents. Still an emotionally charged sight to see, but a happier one, unmarred by despair and loss. Her grandparents weren’t lost at all. She’d found them.

A heavy weight she didn’t know she bore lifted, and her dizzy brain swirled as relief rippled from her head to her toes. The hasty flip of emotion jarred her senses, and her lungs yanked in air as she burst into tears. This time she covered her face with both hands and cried for several minutes.

When the tearful episode subsided, she cleaned herself up then slowly looked around, focusing on their faces one at a time. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house, so she grabbed the box of tissues and passed them around.

She figured there would be a quiet moment while everyone gathered themselves, but as she set the tissues aside, Morrigan pulled her into a tight hug. Layla’s first reaction was to tense, but she didn’t want to disappoint her grandma, so she turned and nervously slid her arms around her waist.