FORTY-FIVE
Layla stayed quiet and thoughtful as she watched Quin don his armor Saturday morning, her focus fixated on every move so she could commit them to memory, maybe even carry them into the afterlife. Should she never again witness such a handsome display, she wanted to remember this one, how it warmed her veins, fluttered her belly, and strengthened her heart.
For the first time, he was using the armor they’d received from Agro’s refugees, and it was much more severe and complicated than his usual protection. Both of his shoulders were capped by metal plates with sharp peaks to deflect and direct spells, and they converged into a dished neck guard that tapered to a point in the middle of his back. The front covered his upper chest and came to a point between his pecs, which were left bare, along with his stomach. A thick, plated belt protected his lower back and abdomen, and an extended scale mail sheath shielded his manhood. His legs were wrapped in so many bands that, at a glance, it looked like he wore pants, but he had on thick, leather shorts that disappeared under plated, thigh bands. Strips of metal and leather also circled his biceps and forearms, the latter of which were covered in jeweled bracers, and a gold cloak fastened to links near his collarbones, bringing out the citrine and amber hues in the polished gemstones and alloy armor.
“My hero,” she sighed, snapping out of her daydream to slip into the gown Drexel had dropped off.
Her gauntlet run was several hours away, and she was expected to watch some of the challengers before her, so she would don her armor later. Apparently, she and her family had a private suite waiting for them at the coliseum, but she had a feeling it wasn’t as isolated as it sounded.
Turning toward the floor mirror, she ran her gaze down her rose gold, Grecian gown. The light and airy fabric stretched over one shoulder, leaving the other bare, and one of her legs was exposed by a high split filled in with sheer material.
Quin watched her reflection as he walked up behind her. Then he framed the base of her throat with her pink coral butterfly pendant, which he secured around her neck with a rose gold chain. Next, he wrapped her arms, legs and ankles in rose gold bands, and after crowning her in a circlet to match, he summoned the cuff he’d given her for her birthday.
Slipping the ring over her middle finger, he fastened the bracelet around her wrist. Then he turned her hand over and removed the silver bead from the hollow gem. “Ready?”
He offered her the third finger of his left hand, and she glanced between his eyes and aura as she took it. “Do I just preserve and stabilize it like I did mine?”
“Yeah. That will let me concentrate on the protection spell.”
“Do you want to prick your finger or do you want me to do it?”
“Go for it.”
Piercing his skin with a pinhole was different than piercing hers, as his skin was thicker and tougher, but he held perfectly still as she figured it out and brought a drop of blood to the surface.
“That one’s no good,” he warned, handing over a tissue. “Wipe it away before you start.”
She held the tissue under his finger as she positioned it over her inner wrist. Then she wiped away the blood, careful not to squeeze out another drop. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
He closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, and forced himself to relax – not an easy feat on such a stressful day. “Okay.”
She gently added pressure while working her magic, and as his blood flooded the center of the blue stone, the unique mixture of precious minerals took on a purplish hue. Three drops filled the starburst, so she wiped away the fourth and slid her thumb over the puncture, sanitizing and sealing it before pulling it to her lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He capped the gem with the bead. Then he took her cheeks and leaned into a long and soft kiss. “Ready to go show these assholes who they’re messing with?”
Despite the gloom engulfing them, she laughed, and it felt good, so she showed her appreciation with a deeper kiss that lingered on her taste buds and tickled her spine. “I’m ready.”
He helped her into a rose gold cloak when they got upstairs. Then he paused at the front entrance and once again revealed the size of his heart. “It’s Emrys’ birthday.”
“Right,” she breathed. “Thanks for the reminder.”
He’d reminded her about Tristan’s birthday, too, giving her a chance to tell him happy birthday, as useless as such words were coming from a woman he wanted but couldn’t have.
He and Emrys were dressed in armor similar to Quin’s, but much newer and less impressive, and while the rest of the men in Layla’s family had donned lighter forms of armor, such as hardened leather vests and bands, the witches wore designer gowns, looking every bit like the goddesses Layla believed them to be.
The day’s activities were in full swing by the time a guard of two hundred Crusaders escorted Layla to the Arena, where she was ushered to the capitol suite for a brunch with the council and various members of the elite.
Her family was given their own table, but she and Quin had to sit at the main table with several council members, including their mouthpiece, Kyanna, who was as two-faced as anyone Layla had ever met. The same witch who’d threatened to charge her with murder, who’d tried to prosecute her for the event with the dome before releasing stalker photos and committing her to a publicized run, actually had the nerve to smile and welcome her as if they were old friends. Then she called for the room’s attention and made a speech so full of shit Layla couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose while hoping everyone else smelled the stench. Kyanna boasted about the boom in tourism and praised Layla’s beauty, power and kindness, claiming to be thrilled about her visit while insinuating a level five run was all her idea. And what a perfect way to revive the city after that fright with the dome, which, Kyanna adamantly assured, was perfectly safe. In fact, new reports from the conservation association showed the dome’s protective energy was stronger than ever. Layla believed it, but not because that two-faced bitch said it. Layla had felt the power for herself, and she knew it was regenerating.
The brunch was held in an interior banquet room, but after the plates were cleared, the guests were led to the capitol balcony, which had a superb view of the field below. Magicians already flowed in, taking time to shop at the vendors lining the path to the coliseum and the halls within, and a children’s interactive magic show was underway in the center of the arena.
Layla watched for a few minutes. Then she floated through conversations with the elite and met the challengers who would face the gauntlet before her. The highest level any of them would attempt for the public was a three, which would be tackled by a wizard who looked as if he could crush Layla with a flick of his pinky finger. She tried not to let it intimidate her, but that’s when the nerves started nudging her stomach.
As she left the luncheon, she passed the Goddess of Mercy’s statue. Then she halted and backtracked, raising her gaze to Willa’s beautifully chiseled face while touching the stone hand covering her heart. The opposite hand gripped the hilt of a sheathed dagger, and Layla submitted to the urge to sweep her fingers over the sculpted pommel. She didn’t know what she hoped to gain. She wasn’t superstitious or religious, but by touching the statue, she felt more connected to the angel she was supposed to be, and today, she needed that connection to survive.
An usher led the way to her suite on the main level, clearing the right side of the corridors for the Crusaders surrounding her, but the left side was filled with guards heading in the opposite direction.
One of the wizards caught Layla’s eye, as his uniform differed from those around it, so she instinctively flipped her gaze to his face, discovering the guy who’d entered Sawyer’s pub with the flyer promoting her run. Their eyes connected, their heads turning as they passed each other, but by the time Quin noticed her distraction and looked back, the stranger had looked forward, so Layla did the same as the anxiety stretched from her gut to her chest.
As she’d predicted, her viewing suite wasn’t isolated from the public, just separated by stalagmite pillars and a waist-high mineral wall, which encouraged people passing by to stop and talk to her. She didn’t mind too much and divided her focus between them and the diverse performances taking place in the center of the arena. The lineup included acrobats, dancers, singers, a drum circle, fire-breathers and more. Every routine was flawlessly executed, and the addition of magic turned even the simplest performance into a wondrous experience.
Layla’s suite had a personal butler, who kept everyone’s drinks topped off, and he eventually summoned a spread of food, but Layla could barely force down the apple Quin insisted she eat.
The final performance featured a witch who slowed things down with a lovely yet haunting song, stilling the thousands of magicians crowding the balconies. Then a wizard took her place on the field and amplified his voice, announcing the first gauntlet contestant, a fifteen-year-old bonded child.
Once the brave teenager and her challenger were introduced and applauded, she stayed in the middle of the arena, and her opponent followed the announcer to the strip of greenery that surrounded the moat.
Layla approached the barrier between the suite and the field, pressing a palm to a cold stalagmite while watching a cylindrical shield rise from the outer shores of the moat to the domed ceiling. From the outside, the barricade resembled a thin sheet of water or glass, but looking through to the other side showed a wall of silver fog, proving the young contestant couldn’t see out.
Silence held the coliseum as the teen rotated, awaiting the signal that would start her sixty-second run. As soon as the gong struck, she soared into the air, dodging a sweeping gust of gray smoke that uprooted a trail of moss.
A band on one of the mid-level balconies began playing, swarming the atmosphere with heart-pounding drum beats and intense melodies, and a portion of the spectators rose to their feet, staying there until the barrier dropped.
The contestant remained on her feet, smiling brightly as she jumped and punched the air, but healers rushed the field anyway, working around her family and friends to tend to her minor injuries.
Layla smiled while applauding the confident and talented girl, who waved to her admirers as she crossed the field. Pulling a flower from the bouquet her dad had given her, she flew over the moat and landed near Layla’s suite, offering her the fragrant bloom as a thank you for inspiring her to run.
Before Layla could respond, the girl bounded away, full of energy as she left the field to celebrate her win.
The next contestant, an eighteen-year-old wizard, also ran and conquered a level one, but he broke his arm in the process, giving everyone a gruesome glimpse of bone.
The third contestant attempted a level two, but a little over a minute in, he went down and didn’t get back up, so the barrier fell as healers jumped into action. Apparently, he’d been knocked unconscious, because he easily roused before standing on his own and accepting his defeat.
The fourth runner was one-half of a bonded couple and flew through a two-minute challenge with minimal bloodshed. Then the fifth failed after getting knocked around enough to quit. The giant man facing a level three was up next, but Layla couldn’t stay and watch.
“It’s time,” Quin whispered, pointing out a waiting usher.
She returned her gaze to the field, once again memorizing its details as she finished her water. Then she turned her back on it, linking an arm with Quin’s as they left the suite.
Everyone she passed offered blessings, luck or encouragement, but the voices and faces blurred into a sea of nonsense, background noise that followed her through the halls until she took a guarded stairwell into an underground level off limits to the general public.
A distant strike of a gong signaled the start of the big guy’s run, and thrumming music echoed through the stone passageways as the usher welcomed Layla and her family into a large chamber with a private bathroom and a staircase that led directly to the arena.
“There will be an intermission when he’s done,” the usher revealed, pointing toward the field, “so you have thirty to forty minutes until they’ll announce you. There’s room for around twenty people on the competitor platform at the top of the stairs. Go up when you’re ready. May the Heaven’s guide you through.”
He bowed then left, and Layla scanned her family’s sober faces before finding Quin’s. “Guess this is it.”
He pulled her close, reaching into her curls as he touched his forehead to hers. “This is not it. This is just a bump in the ride.” He kissed her a few times then took her hand. “Let’s get you over it.”
While she used the washroom, he cast a veil of thick fog around one corner of the main chamber, and she caught up with him behind the magic as he summoned her armor from his satchel.
Setting aside the bulk of the items, he lifted the jeweled belt and dislodged the dagger sheath. “You shouldn’t need a blade, so we’ll get it out of the way.”
He started to return the dagger to his satchel when she caught sight of the pommel, and her mouth fell open as her hand shot out, bringing him to a halt.
“What?” he asked.
She swallowed and pulled the hilt in for a closer look. Then she turned to the rest of the armor, studying it for the first time, but she’d seen it before. “This is Willa’s.”
“What?” Quin repeated.
Layla picked up a bracer and made sure. “It’s the same. I just saw it at lunch. This is the same armor Willa is wearing in her statue.”
Quin’s eyes widened then narrowed on the breastplate. “Maybe.”
“No maybe, Quin. Either this is her armor or it’s a replica, because I’m not finding a difference. Is there a statue of Odon? I bet your armor matches his.”
“I don’t know. I don’t recall seeing him in the capitol wing, and we don’t have time to hunt him down. If you’re going to do this, you need to get ready.”
She stripped off her dress and most of her jewelry. “What are the odds that Willa’s armor would find its way to me? Maybe that was one of the reasons I had to face Agro. This is further proof Oliviara was an angel and Wolfstanus was her guardian. But… that would mean it’s proof I’m an angel. Is it really possible for both sets to stay together and travel from angel to angel over thousands of years?”
He smiled while making sure her corset was secure. Then he straightened the feather-light plates on her shoulders before fastening the slim, metal collar that covered her neck and linked to her breastplate. “We decided a long time ago that the word impossible doesn’t apply to you.”
He swept her hair behind her shoulders, tickling her scalp as he weaved the curls into a loose braid. Then he set it with magic before retrieving more armor. Her corset halted just under her ribs, leaving her stomach bare, and the belt arched over her hips before coming to a V between her thighs.
Quin reached into his satchel as he knelt, withdrawing a pile of white material. Then he vanished her underwear while urging her to step into a new pair that covered more and had strips of silk wafting from the top hem. He stayed on one knee as he switched her ankle and thigh bands, and after stowing the discarded accessories, he turned his focus on her arms, wrapping bands around the tops and clasping plated bracers around the bottoms.
After making sure the blood-filled gem on her bracelet remained unobstructed, he switched out the circlet on her head. Then he stepped back and scanned her with shiny eyes. “That circlet should help block mental attacks, but I want you to set a mind shield before you start. Make it lasting, so you can cast it and forget about it.”
“Good idea.”
“Everything feel okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Make sure you can move as freely as you did during your practice runs.”
She obeyed, bending, twisting, reaching, lunging and crouching. She probably looked like she was doing aerobics from the 1980s, but Quin found no humor in the situation and stoically awaited her approval, so she gave it while moving in for a kiss.
When he dropped the foggy wall, the nervous energy spiked, and Layla turned to find worry and fear etched into her family’s faces. “Now that’s enough of that,” she chastised. “It’ll take more than… whatever the hell this is for you guys to get rid of me.” She ran a hand along one of her bracers while glancing at a mirror. “Plus, I have Willa’s armor. That has to count for something.”
“Wait…” Aradia mumbled. “What?”
Layla pointed over her shoulder. “You couldn’t hear us?”
“No.”
“Oh. I think this might have been Willa’s armor. It matches the set on her statue in the capitol wing.”
Everyone shot to their feet as exclamations rang out. Then they surrounded Layla to get a closer look at the armor while recalling the statue.
Drexel kept his distance, but was no less amazed. “If it is her armor, that would be… well, guys like me aren’t equipped to express such things.” His gaze flipped to the staircase before returning to Layla’s face. “They’re calling people back to their seats. Ready to head up?”
Quin took Layla’s hand. “Go ahead. We’ll be up in a minute.”
Drexel and Bryce took a handful of soldiers with them while leading Layla’s family to the competitor’s platform, and Quin waited for them to move out of sight before turning to Layla.
Raising gentle palms to her cheeks, he leaned close and whispered. “There’s still time to back out. Tell me now, and I’ll figure out a way.”
Her chest tightened, blocking her lungs as tears stung her eyes. “I can’t. I… I don’t know if it will help, but I have to try.”
He drew a few labored breaths while intently searching not only her gaze, but every inch of her face. Then he gave her a deep kiss that electrified their lights and shocked her heart. When their lips parted, they stayed close, breathing each other in, and only after the thrill subsided did he back away and take her hand.
“Then it’s time.”