SIXTEEN
The reception got louder and rowdier as the night went on, but Layla stayed on the sidelines, content to watch her friends and family celebrate.
Shortly after midnight, guests began dispersing, so Layla handed off her kids and joined the bridal party for the farewells. She lost count of how many hands she shook and how many smiles she forced, but Quin stayed beside her, a pillar of strength and support as he fielded questions and intercepted chitchat.
“Almost done,” he whispered, noticing her attempt to stifle a yawn.
She looked to the next person in line, a lone wizard she hadn’t met, and something about his appearance struck her as odd. At first, she struggled to identify what made her do a double take. He wore clothes similar to other wizards, his full beard wasn’t much longer than Weylin’s, and his copper complexion and green eyes reminded her of Aradia. But then Layla focused on his aura. The haze flowed around an impressively thick powerband, leading her to believe he might be a bonded child, but the rainbow ribbons, while vivid and pretty, weren’t abundant. Her family’s auras swam with so many colors there was no way to identify them all, and the ribbons dashed through vast oceans of yellow joy and pink love, whereas the stranger’s haze contained much smaller portions of life’s greatest gifts.
Dismissing her curiosity, Layla donned a polite smile while offering her hand, but he seemed hesitant to take it, and when he caved, clasping her palm in a quick and rigid shake, every hair on her body stood on end.
Since entering the magical world, she’d experienced odd sensations due to touch several times, mostly with Quin and blood relatives, or during the ritual that bound her with her coven members, but this feeling was new.
By the time the sensations had rolled over her, the stranger had moved to Quin, who smiled and spoke to him as pleasantly as he had everyone else. “It was good to see you, Timber.”
“You, too,” Timber returned, shaking Quin’s hand without any hesitation or unusual reaction. Then he moved down the line to Kegan.
Layla continued to watch him, confused and questioning the legitimacy of her concern. Was she being paranoid and imagining things? Was a weird feeling reason enough to add drama to an otherwise lovely wedding?
Someone cleared their throat, and Layla looked forward, finding an older couple waiting for her farewell. She quickly offered it, encouraging Quin to do the same. Then she pulled him out of the line and led him a few yards away.
Taking care to lower her voice and hide her lips from the odd stranger, she faced Quin and dove into the drama. Her alarmed instincts wouldn’t let her ignore it. “That wizard named Timber, how well do you know him?”
Quin glanced over his shoulder. “As well as anyone. Why?”
“Do you trust him?”
“Trust him with what?”
She peered around his bicep, making sure Timber hadn’t left. Then she rushed to explain. “There’s something odd about him. He hesitated to touch me, and when he did… I don’t know… I got a really weird feeling, like… a hair-raising feeling. Something’s up with him. I don’t know what, whether it’s good or bad or important, but something’s up, and he seems to know more about it than I do. I don’t like that.”
“Okay,” Quin soothed, taking her by the arms. “We don’t want to cause a scene at Bri’s wedding, so we need to stay calm.”
“Right. So what do we do?”
“I’ve known Timber for years and have never seen him get violent. Let’s go talk to him, see if we can figure out this one without fighting.”
If Timber was an enemy, he’d had plenty of chances to strike, but he didn’t approach her until social standards insisted on it, so she agreed to Quin’s passive plan.
Taking her under one arm, he guided her toward Timber, and she brainstormed ways to tell him his touch gave her a weird feeling.
He’d finished congratulating the bride and was saying farewell to nearby guests, but he kept glancing at Quin and Layla. He knew they were coming, and it looked as though he might meet them halfway. He rushed through the goodbyes, as if about to divert his attention, but instead of moving toward Layla, he abruptly flew away, disappearing as he went.
She blinked at the night sky like a kid who’d just lost her balloon. Then she rotated toward Quin and held out a hand. “I told you.”
Brietta remained oblivious to the issue, but they’d caught the attention of Kegan, who distracted his bride with a crowd of distant relatives before heading for Quin.
Stepping closer to Layla, Quin quietly spoke. “Let’s not worry him. Go tell your grandparents what happened then put on a smile for Bri.”
The last thing Layla wanted to do was ruin Brietta’s wedding night with worry, so she took a deep breath and braced to follow through with Quin’s suggestion. While she discreetly explained the situation to Caitrin and Serafin, Quin smoothed things over with Kegan. Then he and Layla met up to kiss the bride goodnight.
As the Crusaders poured in and organized their departure, Layla barely managed to keep her lips sealed on the questions racing through her head. Who was Timber? How did Quin know him? Where did he live and where did he go? And what was up with his aura?
By the time she flew from the beach and exited the weather shield, Layla burned with curiosity, so she was relieved when Quin commanded their escorts to land.
The cloud of shimmers descended through snow-dusted branches to a random spot in the forest. Then bodies began appearing as Drexel spoke. “What’s going on?”
“Layla and I need to make a detour,” Quin answered. “One of the wizards at the wedding raised alarms. We want to ask him a few questions.”
He handed sleeping children to Layla’s grandparents as Drexel dug for details. “Which wizard?”
“His name is Timber. He’s lived in the area since he was five.”
“Which coven?”
“None of them. He’s a nomad.”
Layla’s eyes widened. “That’s why his aura lacks diversity and love.”
Quin smiled at her. “That’s right.” Then he looked at Drexel. “He lives alone in the middle of nowhere. Even if he is an enemy, he has no hope of taking on an angel, so I want half of your soldiers to escort our kids home. The rest of you can come with us.”
Drexel agreed, and Layla couldn’t think of a better plan, so she kissed her children goodbye and let her grandparents whisk them away.
With such a large group, it took over an hour to travel to Timber’s property, and Quin used the time to answer a few of Layla’s questions.
“Why does he live alone?” she asked.
Quin pulled the back of her hand to his lips, giving her a dose of warmth as he mentally answered. ‘When he was five, he and his parents travelled here on what he thought was a vacation. But I suspect they were fleeing from something, because a group of magicians attacked their camp and killed his parents.’
Layla’s heart skipped a beat and squeezed, but Quin charged on.
‘The assailants were wounded in the process, giving Timber a chance to escape, but he had no idea where to go. He didn’t know how to get home or who he could trust. He camped near a town until he learned how to fend for himself. Then he made a home in the middle of the woods. He isn’t certain where he was born and shows no interest in integrating into a community.’
‘Isn’t that odd for a magician?’
‘Yes. He’s one of the strangest wizards I’ve ever met. He’s always been friendly, but he keeps everyone at arm’s length. Even to the hexless, he’d be considered antisocial. I’m surprised he came to the wedding.’
‘Was he invited?’
‘Yes. He and Keg found common ground in their quiet personalities. Neither of them are big talkers or attention hogs, so they often found themselves sitting on the sidelines together. Timber doesn’t really have friends, but if he did, Kegan would be one of them.’
‘So how does Keg feel about us tracking him down?’
‘Uncomfortable, but he understands.’
As they approached Timber’s property, Quin instructed everyone to land in the forest outside of the homestead. Then he revealed himself while telling the others to do the same. “He hasn’t wronged us, so we’ll treat him like an innocent man.”
Layla studied her surroundings as she dropped her concealment spells, which garnered the rapt attention of Tristan and Emrys. She flipped her gaze between them, more to alert them to their behavior than to scold them for it, and they cleared their throats while averting their stares.
“You look nice tonight,” Emrys offered, as if exposing himself might rectify his gawking. And it kind of did. She’d much rather get a straightforward compliment than lingering gazes.
“Thank you,” she replied. Then she turned her attention on Quin. “How should we do this? Can you mind search him?”
Quin took her hand and slowly made his way forward. “I doubt he’d let me in his head, and he’d consider that way more disrespectful than knocking on his door.”
The trees thinned until Layla spotted shafts of moonlight bouncing off the dark windows of a large barn. The masculine, wooden structure sat in the middle of a natural glade, and though the property was in pristine condition, Layla got the sense it had been abandoned. There wasn’t so much as a flicker of light in the barn, and the clearing felt unnaturally still.
Quin stopped at the tree line, bringing everyone else to a halt, and Layla cut through the silence with a whisper. “Either he’s not home or he’s expecting us.”
Quin turned his back on the barn and took Layla’s biceps. “Stay here with Tristan and Emrys. Timber might be more inclined to talk if he doesn’t open the door to a woman who can see right through him.”
She tried to tame her thundering heart while moving closer to his. “Take backup.”
He warmed her up with a kiss to her forehead. Then he headed for the barn while instructing Drexel and five of his soldiers to follow. They kept their pace casual, giving Timber time to assess his company, and Layla struggled not to hold her breath, her senses heightened, alerting her to every shuffling step, every whiff of pine, and every shifting shadow.
Quin told his escorts to stay a few feet back as he stepped toward the heavy door. Then his solid knock echoed around the clearing and faded into the forest. Silence returned, and several tense seconds ticked by before Drexel spoke.
“This is ridiculous. Search for his presence, Bryce.”
Quin scowled at the commander as Bryce closed his eyes then shook his head. “I’m not sensing anyone inside.”
Layla’s shoulders fell as she considered the predicament, but Drexel lacked the patience to concern himself with the moral high ground. “Let’s search the place.”
Quin narrowed his eyes while reaching across the threshold, and as his palm thumped the doorjamb, a massive fireball exploded from the southwest tree line, illuminating a sea of shocked expressions before slamming into the corner of the barn.
Beams busted as heat and energy rolled away from the impact, throwing Quin and Drexel off their feet, and wood ignited like dry fir needles, warping into deadly pillars of crackling coal in seconds.
Recovering from a jolt, Layla flashed her eyes over the group on the ground, making sure Quin remained conscious. Then she shot into the air and soared across the clearing. The fire hadn’t travelled through the woods, so its caster was close, close enough that a smoke trail still wafted through the air when Layla reached the fireball’s point of origin.
She darted into shadowed undergrowth, certain the perpetrator wouldn’t take to the open air. Hiding in the dense forest was their only hope of escaping her wrath.
Catching the scent of a wizard, she adjusted her course, delving deeper into nature’s maze. Then she thought she heard a branch snap to the south, but its echo was washed away by the tumult behind her. Quin desperately shouted her name; Tristan and Emrys fumbled through excuses and apologies; and Drexel cursed her recklessness. “What in the hell was she thinking taking off by herself?”
Layla heard another crack to the south, closer this time, and her prey’s scent was as prominent as that of the musty earth and crisp, snow-covered branches. If she could stay on his trail, she’d catch him within seconds.
She froze and blasted a mental message toward the magicians behind her. ‘Shut up and hold still!’
The atmosphere grew eerily quiet as the shouting and rustling ceased, and Layla tried not to think about how pissed Quin must be. Instead, she turned her focus forward, intently listening for the slightest shift. Her target had halted. She could still smell him, but she heard nothing. Straining her eyes, she scanned the gaps between looming tree trunks. Then her lungs expanded when she spied a faint glow. If she wasn’t looking for it, she would have missed it or mistaken it for a shaft of moonlight, but the shimmery oscillation detected by her agile eyes proved the glow was that of a concealed aura.
She was visible, and he must have been watching her, because the moment she spotted him, the shimmers lurched from the ground and took flight.
Done with the cat and mouse games, she threw out both palms and flooded the forest with bright beams of light. She squinted as her pupils contracted, but the magic took her target by surprise, slowing his escape with blinding disorientation.
She flitted her gaze across his surroundings. Then she flicked her right wrist and animated the tree closest to him. A startling creak echoed through the night as the bark contorted, and with a flurry of rustling leaves and jolting snaps, a long branch unfurled. Its clawed tip whipped toward the stunned wizard, whose concealment spells failed as rough wood lassoed his ankles and ripped him out of flight. Layla got a clear visual of his confounded face as it sped toward a tree trunk, and she cringed while attempting to save him from a busted nose.
His upside-down body came to a sudden halt. Then Layla used magic to keep it that way as she shouted behind her. “Over here.”
The forest filled with a chaotic array of footsteps, voices and the whoosh of magicians soaring around trees. Layla only shouted once, but her magical lights still flooded the misty undergrowth, leading the way for her allies.
Quin was the first to emerge, a deep scowl etching his forehead as he squinted through the glaring beams to assess the situation, and Layla’s stomach churned as she scanned the burn stretching down his bicep. She didn’t know he’d been burned. If she had, she would have let Timber’s face meet the tree.
Ignoring his wounds, Quin landed and practically stomped forward. Then he took Layla’s cheeks, surprisingly gentle as he scoured her for injuries. “Did he touch you?”
“No,” she assured. “The tree did the dirty work.”
His jaw flexed as his nostrils flared, so she braced for an angry lecture, but he merely warmed her up with a tense kiss to her forehead. Then he turned his attention on her captive, not saying a word about her solo pursuit.
Drexel wasn’t so accepting and complained the second he found her. “Do you have any idea how careless that was?”
Layla rolled her eyes and followed Quin toward the dangling wizard. “Says the man covered in burns and bruises. Meanwhile, I’m perfectly fine and properly dressed for a formal event. Plus, I got the guy. So how about you quit your bitching so we can get on with this? I miss my kids.”
Drexel’s chest puffed up, but he kept his mouth shut, so Layla calmly scanned the crowd behind the commander. “I’m sorry I yelled into everyone’s heads.”
They didn’t seem to mind, and a few of them obviously enjoyed it.
“It worked well,” Bryce commended. “I’ve never known someone who can mind search a crowd this size.”
Tristan sat on a boulder and ran his hands through his hair. “It was an honor to receive your call, but it would be even better if you’d wait for us.”
Layla opened her mouth to argue, but Quin had reached the captive, so she sighed and shifted her focus.
Dimming the magical lights, she dropped the spell keeping Timber inert, and Quin grabbed his collar while hissing in his upside-down face. “I vouched for you.”
Timber blinked as his lips thinned. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
Quin’s aura flashed with ominous colors, but he maintained a grasp on his temper as he coated Timbers head in a mind shield and took a step back. “Release him.”
Layla aimed her left hand at the branch, forcing it to release Timber’s ankles, but rather than let him plunge to earth headfirst, she caught him in a summoning spell and sat him on a clump of moss.
He didn’t fight or try to get to his feet, and his voice was surprisingly stoic for a trapped wizard. “I think you broke my ankles.”
“You’re lucky that’s all she did,” Quin countered, kneeling to perform an exam. “Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?”
Timber kept his rapt attention on Layla. “No.”
“Then why did you hesitate to shake my hand?” she asked.
He shrugged, trying to pretend the exchange at the wedding wasn’t as weird as she recalled. “I’d never seen anyone like you in person. It’s intimidating.”
“Hmm… Usually the people I intimidate are the ones with a guilty conscience.”
“What would I have to feel guilty about? I’m out here minding my own. You’re the ones assaulting me.”
“We came to talk,” Quin returned. Then he glanced at the nearby soldiers. “Do we have a healer?”
A witch and wizard started forward, and Layla grabbed the man’s arm while speaking to the woman. “You deal with the ankles.” Then she directed the second healer toward Quin. “Take care of his burns.”
They both did as they were told, but Quin ignored the man working on his arm and continued to interview the man who wounded it. “Why did you attack us?”
Timber dug into his cloak. Then he tipped back a flask before lighting a joint. “I didn’t attack you. If I wanted to hit you with that fireball, I could have. I was just trying to get you away from my door after Crusader Short-fuse over there decided to break in.”
Drexel stood a few feet away, as cold and detached as always. “Now that you’ve blasted a hole in the wall, we don’t have to break in.”
Quin drew a deep breath, attempting to hold still for the healer. “That’s enough input from you, Drexel. If you think you have power of imminent domain here, you’re mistaken. We’re free people and maintain every right to protect what’s ours. As for you,” he added, turning his ire on Timber. “Drexel’s suggestion may have crossed a line, but your stunt blew that shit to pieces. If you ever endanger Layla again, I’ll snap your neck, and if you send another harmful spell my way, I’ll let her send it back. Now, I suggest you start getting honest before things get much worse. Are you working for the Dark Guild?”
Timber scowled, finally moved to give an emotional response. “What the fuck, man. No. They’re the exact opposite of guys like us.”
“We’re nothing alike,” Quin disagreed.
Bryce cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Are you sure about that, Quin? His reactions to Layla are a little familiar, and we’re missing several guardians.”
“No way,” Layla objected. “He threw fire at my mate.”
“Not at him,” Timber corrected, but then Layla shot him a deadly look, daring him to continue.
He didn’t take the bait, so she returned her gaze to Bryce. “He’s older than the guardians. Right, Quin?”
Quin intently searched Timber’s face and aura. “When’s your birthday?”
“You just missed it. Yesterday. Well, the day before, since it’s after midnight.”
“The seventh?”
“Yeah.”
“What year?”
“Eighty-seven.”
“You’re certain?”
“As certain as anyone I suppose. I go by what my parents taught me. Why? What’s a guardian?”
Quin stayed quiet as he took another moment to study Timber’s colors. Then he compared them to Tristan’s and Emrys’.
Layla clenched her teeth, biting back the urge to blurt out how ridiculous it was to spend time on something so inconsequential, but Quin was deep into his investigation, devoted to discovering the informed and logical path.
Returning his focus to Timber’s aura, he calmly pressed for further proof. “Do you dream about her?”
Timber’s eyebrows shot up then drew together. “Who? Your woman?”
Quin’s chest rose as his stress level took a dip. Then he stood and observed his healed arm. “He’s not a guardian.”
“How can you be so sure?” Drexel asked. “He could be lying.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Quin moved to Layla and warmed her up with a kiss to her hand. “What about you, Tristan? Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Tristan answered, so Quin looked to Emrys.
“How about you?”
Emrys nodded at the commander. “I agree. He’s not like us.”
Pleased with their conclusions, Layla unlocked her jaw. “Now that that’s out of the way, can we move on?”
“Move on to what?” Quin asked. “He claims innocence, and we can’t prove otherwise. Unless you’re willing to read his mind.”
Timber’s eyes widened, but Layla shook her head, increasingly uncertain about what she’d felt at the wedding. Maybe she was paranoid. “It’s unfair.”
Drexel didn’t even try to hide his annoyance and mistrust. “Since everyone’s so bloody concerned with manners, perhaps Timber should invite his company in for a chat.”
Timber threw him an incredulous look. “You invade my property, threaten to break into my home, then snap my ankles when I attempt to protect myself, and now you want me to serve you my wine while you sit in my chairs and pry into my life with no viable excuse? Go fuck yourself.”
He’d made several valid points, and Layla struggled not to smirk at Drexel’s scowl. “I’m sorry I broke your ankles. It wasn’t intentional, and I only made that call because you shot a deadly spell in Quin’s direction. We didn’t come here to hurt you.”
He sniffed and averted his stare. “You shouldn’t have come here at all.”
“Why?” Quin pressed. “You just attended the wedding of a man I call brother. Why am I not welcome at your door?”
“It’s not like that, man.”
The female healer had finished mending Timber’s bones, so Quin took her place, once again trying to reason with the nomad. “Then what’s it like? Help me understand.”
“It’s not your business to understand.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not the man I was the last time we hung out. The angel behind me changed everything. She changes the very air you’re breathing, because she holds our fate in her hands. Yours and mine. The whole world is her business, and that makes it mine. Now, you can either explain yourself and relieve our worries, or we can go about this the hard way.”
“Explain what? I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Why am I no longer welcome in your home?”
“Because you brought a bunch of assholes with you.”
“Perhaps. They’re here to protect Layla, not to intimidate or hurt you. If they leave your property, will you welcome Layla and I in your home?”
“Why? What are you looking for?”
“The truth.”
“I told you the truth.”
Quin sighed and shook his head. “You’re making this harder on yourself.”
“Maybe he is telling the truth,” Layla cut in. “Like you said, we can’t prove him wrong. I don’t even know what I sensed, and it’s starting to feel like it never happened.”
“Don’t,” Quin objected. “If you start doubting yourself, we’re all screwed. He’s lying.”
Panic flashed across Timber’s face, but then he set his jaw and glared at Quin. “You’re making a mistake.”
“This is your last chance to prove it.”
“Or what?”
Quin returned to Layla and took her hand, his shoulders stiff with tension despite his matter-of-fact demeanor. “We’ll search your home.”
Timber wasn’t as disciplined, and his face reddened as his nostrils flared. He was pissed, but he didn’t beg or bargain or offer a solution. Teeth gritted, he just stared at Quin with a look that would make hexless men cower in fear.
Layla tightened her grip on Quin, ready to defend him, but Timber’s magic remained hindered by a mind shield, so she was more concerned with figuring him out than blocking attacks. She was beyond frustrated with the lack of clarity and evidence, and she despised the idea of destroying an innocent man’s right to privacy based on a weird feeling. But she trusted Quin’s judgment above all others. If he said Timber was lying, she believed it.
A breeze slipped through the trees, and Layla jerked her head up, catching a whiff of smoke. “Something’s burning.”
Quin and the Crusaders lifted their noses, but Layla narrowed her eyes on Timber, the only magician not searching for the scent, and his intense anger had shifted, leaving him slouched in forlorn colors.
“It’s his house,” she blurted. Then she pulled her hand from Quin’s and shot from the ground.
By the time Quin blinked and adjusted to losing her pulse, she’d disappeared behind the trees. “Bring him,” he ordered, pointing at Timber. Then he took off after Layla for the second time in one night.
Smoke billowed through the forest, accosting his senses while slowing him down, so he sent Layla a mind search, desperate to stay connected to her through the blinding fumes. ‘Talk to me, love.’
‘It’s gone. It’s all gone.’
Clearing his way with magic, he flew into the glade and came to a stunned halt.
The foundation of Timber’s home lay in smoldering ruins, nearly every inch of wood reduced to ash then flooded in Layla’s water magic. She hovered over the carnage, sweeping away the smoke as her eyes darted over what was left.
“How did he do this? He was hexless.”
Crusaders emerged from the shadows as Quin floated forward. “It had to have been his fireball.”
“No way that fireball did this. I would have smelled it sooner.”
Quin halted where the spell had collided with the house. A few splintered boards remained upright, a portion of them singed with a starburst pattern, but their jagged tips merely bore smoke damage. Moving to view the inside of the boards, he found them stained black with soot and crackled with gray ash.
“You’re right,” he concluded. “It looks like the fire burned from the inside out, and unless he soaked the place in accelerant, there’s no way it would burn that fast.”
“Do you think he had help?”
“Not necessarily. He could have set a spell before I got the mind shield on him. Our magic can be triggered by a raindrop if we set it that way. Any number of things could have lit the fuse.”
She drew a slow and deep breath while shaking her head. Then she turned her shiny gaze on Timber, who’d been hauled into the clearing by Tristan and Emrys. Floating clear of the charred foundation, Layla landed and walked toward them, beautiful and deadly in her deliberate approach.
“What could possibly make a man so desperate he’d destroy everything he owns? His bed. His possessions. His home.”
Quin caught up as she stopped in front of Timber and twitched a hand, opening the front of his cloak. Then she searched his pockets and patted down his waistband. “You don’t even have a satchel on you. You have nothing now.”
Timber flinched and swallowed. “So be it.”
Layla watched him and his aura for a long and thoughtful moment, as if searching for a reason to believe him, but he’d already blown his chance to earn her trust. “Quin.”
“Right here,” he assured, touching her shoulder.
She held out a hand. “Do you have a dagger?”
He glanced from her palm to his satchel, tempted to ask questions and protect her from the consequences of the interrogation, but she appeared calm, so he dug a blade from his bag and handed it over. Tristan and Emrys shot him incredulous looks, but he ignored them, hoping like hell he hadn’t made a mistake.
Holding his breath, he watched as Layla stepped forward and touched the keen steel to the flesh fluttering over Timber’s rapid pulse. “Move an inch, and I’ll sever an artery. Release his mind, Quin.”
Quin exhaled as he moved to her side and dropped the shield coating Timber’s skull. Then he kept an eye on the blade while Layla pressed her left palm to Timber’s forehead.
“What is she doing?” he panicked.
“Hold still,” Quin hissed, watching the dagger. Not because he gave a shit about Timber’s neck, but because every drop of blood Layla drew flooded her heart with despair.
She quietly gasped as the weapon wavered. Then her eyes opened, big and shiny as they connected with the captive’s. She withdrew her left hand, but the right still clutched the dagger’s hilt, its blade scraping away the scruff on Timber’s neck.
Quin’s heart stayed in his throat as he laid a hand over hers, and his lungs refused to open until he compelled her to remove the steel from Timber’s flesh.
She acted as though she didn’t notice and kept her stunned gaze on her target. “What are you?”
“What do you mean?” Timber returned. “What did you see?”
She tilted her head. “Nothing.”
“You won’t tell me what you found in my mind?”
“I am telling you. I saw nothing.”
Quin took the dagger and tucked it away. “He blocked you?”
“No. I was in his head. There was… there was nothing there. You try,” she insisted, stepping aside.
Quin took her place, but he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He couldn’t crack heads open like she could. Even a mind search was likely to fail without Timber’s permission and participation, but Quin gave it a shot, attempting to connect with the acquaintance on a magical and mental level.
The dive in was surprisingly easy, providing a jolt of excitement, but once he had access, confusion took over. Instead of sensing foreign emotions, musings or memories, he found himself floating through vast emptiness that somehow felt serene and terrifying all at once. And supremely lonely.
Shifting his focus, Quin spoke into Timber’s head. ‘Can you hear me?’
‘Yeah,’ Timber confirmed, proving he wasn’t blocking, but his voice didn’t come with the background noise and chaos that usually had to be pushed away to make room for communication.
Quin withdrew from the mental connection. Then he reset Timber’s mind shield while contemplating the anomaly. If Layla couldn’t read Timber’s mind, there probably wasn’t a magician on earth who could. He was a locked box of information in a world where everyone was laid bare and vulnerable to invasions of privacy. And now that he’d destroyed every other aspect of his life, there was no way to prove who or what he was. The most telling evidence was the lack thereof.
“Do you realize what you’ve done?” Quin whispered, his throat dry, his stomach knotted. “I can’t let you go.”
Timber seemed to grow bigger as he grinded his teeth. “You have no right to hold me.”
Quin bowed his head. “This isn’t about right and wrong.” Then he swallowed and forced himself to meet Timber’s stare. “It’s not even about you and me. This is bigger than us. I’m sorry.” Averting his gaze, he stepped back and motioned toward Drexel and Bryce. “Bind him. He’ll remain a prisoner until we come up with a better solution.”
“You can’t do this,” Timber objected, but Drexel had already moved forward.
“He just did.”
After restraining the prisoner with magical cords, Drexel handed him off to another Crusader and looked at Quin. “It’s good to see you’re finally acting like a guardian.”
Quin’s fingers curled into fists, but before he could decide how to react, a colorful blur darted past him. By the time he blinked, Layla had grabbed Drexel’s collar and yanked him down to her level.
“Listen up, because I’m only going to say this once. Quin is the sun in my solar system, but you, you’re just a tiny speck of dust on one of my planets. I don’t need you, so the next time you belittle my source of light, I – will – crush you. I’ve let you off the hook twice now. There will not be a third time. Do you understand?”
If anyone else had done such a thing, the commander would have fumed, but this was the closest he’d gotten to the witch he’d spent much of his life searching out and protecting. Stuck within her strong grasp and drowning in her ethereal aura, his senses no doubt inundated by her honey breath and floral scent, he could only stare at her with wide, reverent eyes while muttering a reply. “Profoundly.”
“Good,” she approved, letting him go, “because I don’t have time for this bullshit.” Turning on her heels, she moved to Quin while directing Crusaders toward the charred foundation of Timber’s home. “Clean that up so we can leave.”
A small group of soldiers volunteered to stay behind and vanish the mess, so the rest of them prepared for the journey to the community.
Layla wrapped her arms around Quin’s waist, altering his pulse while laying her cheek over his swollen heart, but she kept her teary gaze on Timber, who dejectedly stared at the burnt remnants of his life, his biceps in the clutches of his escorts.
“Do you need a moment?” Layla asked.
He continued to watch the ashes as he swallowed. Then he closed his eyes. “No. It’s done.”
He seemed to drift into a state of meditation as the Crusaders prepped him for the flight, but Layla couldn’t follow his example. Her aura blazed as her lungs stuttered, and the moment Quin lifted her into the air, she started bawling. He wrapped her in warmth and concealment spells. Then he held her through the flight home, grateful for the opportunity despite the waves of pain rolling off her.