SEVENTEEN
The community was far from sleepy when Quin and Layla descended onto the lawn, as every coven member sat around a bonfire, desperate to enjoy every last second of one another’s company. Only the kids were asleep, and they were cuddled on a mattress outside, piled with blankets and surrounded by spells.
A few Crusaders landed with Timber, urging the coven to rise. Then they rushed forward as questions flew. Quin ignored them while checking on Layla, but she’d already sucked up her grief and guilt and cleaned her face.
Pushing her shoulders back, she headed for the triplets while motioning toward Timber. “Make him as comfortable as possible. We’ll deal with it later.”
The coven exchanged befuddled glances, but Quin dismissed the Crusaders while taking Timber’s arms. Then he spoke to his parents as he released the captive’s wrists and ankles. “He can stay in my old room.”
Despite their confusion, Kemble and Cordelia led the way toward their home, and Quin followed, forcing Timber to shuffle ahead of him.
As they passed Banning, Quin slapped his shoulder and urged him to fall into step beside him. “You’re diving into the conflict tomorrow. It’s time you see some of the ugliness involved.”
Banning’s cheeks paled, but he maintained Quin’s pace while watching Timber’s back. “What did he do to you guys?”
Quin shook his head while taming the fire in his chest. “Not a damn thing. That’s why it’s ugly.”
Once upstairs, Kemble ushered them into Quin’s old room, and Timber found the will to admire his surroundings. “Nice place.”
“This is the only night you’ll be here,” Quin revealed, lighting a fire in the hearth. Then he summoned a bowl of fruit, a pitcher of water, and a bottle of Scotch. “You’ll have access to the attached bathroom, but we’re shielding the walls, so you’ll be stuck in here until we come get you.” After placing the refreshments on the desk, Quin looked at Banning while pointing at Timber. “Watch him while we lock the place down.”
Banning positioned himself between Timber and the door, so Quin and his parents spread out to coat the room in barriers.
With a heavy sigh, Timber helped himself to a drink and stretched out on the bed. “Quin lied to you. I burnt his arm and knocked him off his feet.”
Everyone glanced at Quin, but he pretended not to notice and stayed focused on his spells.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” Timber added. “But what’s done is done.”
Banning crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “Quin didn’t do this because of an accident.”
“You’re right. He’s worried I’m a threat.”
“Then you gave him a reason to worry.”
“I suppose I did,” Timber admitted, tugging open the bedside drawer. “Got anything to read in here?”
Quin pointed at the mattress, and a stack of books appeared, lighting up Timber’s eyes and aura. “That’s what I’m talking about. Losing my books was the worst part of losing my home.”
“What happened to your home?” Cordelia asked.
He pulled a book from the pile and leaned against the headboard. “It burned down.”
“He burned it down,” Quin corrected. “He’s hiding something, and I can’t let him go until I know his secrets have nothing to do with Layla.”
“Have her read his mind,” Banning suggested.
“She tried.” Quin stared at Timber while recalling the blank spaces in his mind. “She found nothing. Neither of us can see his thoughts. Unless he starts talking, we have no way to determine his innocence or guilt.”
Timber had delved into his book, seemingly unconcerned about the people debating his fate, but as he turned the page, he let a bitter smirk slip. “All this because I hesitated to shake his woman’s hand.”
Cordelia scowled and straightened. “You’re simplifying what’s obviously a complex problem. Quinlan doesn’t make rash or selfish decisions, and he wouldn’t bring you into his mother’s home if he had a better alternative. He’s provided warmth, refreshments, books and a comfortable bed, all the things you chose to destroy, so I suggest you stop antagonizing him and start cooperating.”
Timber accepted the lecture in solemn silence. Then he looked at Quin, who was double-checking his parents’ spellwork. “That’s the second time tonight I’ve seen a witch jump to your defense. Doesn’t that sting the ego?”
Cordelia hissed as her aura swelled, but before she could rip into the prisoner, Kemble took her shoulders and steered her toward the hall. “Go update Layla on our progress. We’ll be down shortly.”
She sniffed while smoothing back her hair, and following one more deadly glance at Timber, she gracefully strolled away.
Once she was out of sight, Kemble moved to the fireplace and shielded the flames, ensuring they couldn’t be used to burn down the house. “You’re a special kind of stupid, pissing off a witch like that. Maybe that’s why Layla didn’t find anything in your head.” Approaching the bed, Kemble stared down at Timber until he was uneasy enough to look up. Then he passed over a lit joint. “But you must have noticed your attempt to shame my son missed its mark. Do you know why?”
Timber took a hit and shook his head no.
“Because,” Kemble explained, “Quinlan’s too good to get riled up by asshole remarks. He knows the women in his life jump to his defense not because he’s too weak to defend himself, but because he’s strong enough to earn their love and devotion. You don’t have a coven, so I won’t fault you for not understanding how it works, but in this family, we stand up for each other – women, men and children. That’s not an attack on our egos. That’s love. It’s a shame you don’t know the difference.”
The dark and depressing colors in Timber’s aura seemed to agree, but his gaze remained cold as he spoke through a tight jaw. “Indeed. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to be left alone.”
Kemble and Banning looked to Quin, who approved with a nod. Then the three of them filed out of the room.
Before pulling the door shut, Quin forced down a lump and made himself face the man he was locking up. “I’m sorry about this, Timber. If it turns out you’re innocent, we’ll make it up to you by helping you rebuild your home.”
“No need,” Timber insisted, and he didn’t seem the least bit angry about it. “I was about done with it anyway.”
Quin had no idea what that meant, and he knew he wouldn’t get an explanation, so he sighed and closed the door, his heavy heart aching for his sad angel and their sweet kids.
He left his parents’ house to find his bed on the lawn, and Layla sat topless upon it, nursing her boys while cradling Lilyana on her thighs. Benzio lay asleep at her feet, along with Arabella, and her grandparents lined the edge of the mattress, but everyone else was in chairs.
Considering the crowd, the atmosphere was dreadfully quiet, so Quin kept his mouth shut as he stripped off his shirt and climbed into bed. Scooting back against the headboard, he parted his legs around Layla. Then he urged her to lean into his chest. Silent tears slipped over her lashes as her shoulder blades found his pecs, so he dried her cheeks before helping her hold Kaedan and Farrow against her breasts.
Four a.m. had come and gone, but no one wanted to close their eyes. Sleep was the last thing on their minds and would merely speed up time. By sunrise, most of them had lost the battle and fallen asleep in their chairs, either holding hands or tucked under each other’s arms, but Layla remained awake, shifting between bouts of suffocating tears and stretches of somber silence. Her grandparents stayed awake with her, and Quin was as desperate for these final moments as she was, so he and his parents greeted the day with sleepless eyes.
When the triplets demanded breakfast, Morrigan and Daleen began making plans, but they waited until Layla was done nursing to reveal them.
Carefully gathering Benzio’s sleeping body from the bed, Morrigan smiled at Layla and whispered. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
Layla and Quin traded confused glances, but they didn’t argue. Securing their babies, they climbed out of bed. Then the golden family quietly left the lawn. They used spells to protect themselves from the bitter cold as they traversed the freezing forest, but the temperature abruptly spiked when they approached the family memorial.
Someone had surrounded the clearing with a weather shield, and Layla stepped from the timber to find a picnic spread out beside her parents’ boulder. “It’s perfect.” She vanished tears. Then she settled on the blanket and did her best to eat a final meal with her family.
Before leaving the glade, Layla helped Benzio decorate the various memorials with roses, saving Aedan and Rhosewen’s for last, and as she stared at their epitaph, vividly recalling the first time she saw it, her tears flowed like rivers into Lilyana’s curls. Discovering her parents’ resting place had helped mend Layla’s shattered heart. Now it was breaking again, and she was leaving a piece of it with them. For if she failed to return, either in life or in death, at least a piece of her would forever rest with the ones she loved.
When Layla and Quin emerged from the forest, everyone had awoken, and the lawn bustled with activity as people ate and tended to last minute preparations. Weylin had arrived, packed and ready to go, and members of his coven were streaming in to see him off.
Layla halted at the tree line, her lungs useless as her chest and sinuses burned. This was it. They’d reached the countdown to their departure, and suddenly the world was flying by.
Quin’s muffled voice echoed in her ears as he pulled Benzio from her arm. Then he passed him to Cordelia and took Layla’s shoulders, blocking her view of the lawn. “Look at me, love.”
She focused on his eyes, finding a terrified witch in their shiny depths. Then she realized it was her reflection.
“Deep breath,” he encouraged.
Only then did she notice the spots peppering her vision, so she gulped down a lump and forced her lungs to open, making way for a rush of cold air.
Quin moved his hands from her shoulders to her hair. Then he softly stroked while taking measured breaths, reminding her to do the same. Once he was certain she’d avoided a panic attack, he touched his forehead to hers. “Remember, we’re doing this for our kids. Every step is for them, including this one. That’s how we get through it.”
She frantically searched his unwavering gaze, drawing strength and confidence from his endless supply. Then she took one more cleansing breath while giving a determined nod. “For them.”
Following a kiss to her head, he returned Benzio to her arm. “Go love on them while I get Timber and gather our bags. Then we can sit for a while. Bri and Keg won’t be here until after noon.”
Pulling Benzio and Lilyana close, Layla headed across the lawn, and Quin insisted her grandparents follow with their infant boys. Once they’d all found a place on the outdoor bed, doing their best to ignore the ticking clock, Quin instructed his parents to follow him to his old room.
Dispelling the shield on the door, he entered to find Timber right where he’d left him, but the blankets were tousled, and the refreshments had dwindled.
Quin vanished the dishes while motioning for Timber to stand. “Do you need to use the bathroom?”
“Just did,” Timber answered, tossing aside his book. “What did you decide to do with me?”
“We haven’t even discussed you. Let’s go. You can eat breakfast on the lawn.”
Timber paused at a mirror, taking the time to fix his hair and smooth his beard. Then he sauntered from the room and followed Kemble downstairs.
Glancing over his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow at Quin. “So, your woman’s something special, huh?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“But what’s up with those other guys? Is she intimate with all her guardians?”
“No.”
“Hmm… Sounds like they’re getting a raw deal.”
“Yep.”
“So what is she?”
“An angel.”
“As in, sent from the gods and goddesses?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To save our asses.”
“From what?”
They’d reached the porch, so Quin took Timber’s arm and pulled him to a halt. “How about you answer a few of my questions? Why are your thoughts and memories unattainable?”
Timber shrugged. “I didn’t know they were.”
“Why did you torch your house?”
“I didn’t want strangers searching it.”
“Why?”
“Do you like strangers pawing your belongings?”
“Better that than to have them reduced to ash. You’re hiding something, Timber. Don’t pretend otherwise. It insults my intelligence.”
“What if I am hiding something? It has nothing to do with you. Or her for that matter.”
“Then why wouldn’t you talk to us at the wedding?”
“I was ready to get out of there. I’d had enough chitchat to last me a year.”
Quin narrowed his eyes, seeing right through the lies. No one passed up a chance to visit with an angel unless they felt threatened by her.
Shoving Timber toward the stairs, Quin shook his head then soared from the porch. “We’ll talk again when you’re ready to tell the truth. Go eat.”
Quin didn’t rejoin Layla until he was completely packed, had everything organized in his magical bag, and was all but ready to fly away from the only home he’d ever known. The triplets were napping, and Benzio was armed with his favorite book, patiently waiting for his dad to read one last chapter, so Quin settled on the bed with the toddler on his lap.
Before diving in, Quin scanned Layla, who sat next to him, disheveled and exhausted as her fingers struggled through tangled curls. “I left an outfit on the sofa,” Quin noted, “if you feel like getting cleaned up when you use the bathroom.”
She rubbed her face and nodded. Then she squinted at the overhead sun. “I’ll be back.”
Her grandmas jumped to their feet and twisted their empty hands. “Would you like company?” Morrigan asked.
Layla covered her eyes, hiding tears as she shook her head no. “It’ll be easier if I go alone.”
Layla didn’t know if that was true, but she didn’t have time to sob on her grandmas’ shoulders. She needed to clean up, get dressed, say goodbye to her beautiful home then hurry back to her precious children.
She felt numb and cold as she gathered the gown Quin left in the living room, her steps echoing in the heavy silence, memories playing in her head like reels of a movie. Every framed photo drew a tear. They watched her shuffle down the hallway, calling her name and soaking her cheeks.
The master bathroom, though free of photos, was a glaring reminder of the transformations she’d undergone and the changes she’d made, all of them leading up to this moment. Turning on the sink, she transferred her dirty clothes to a pile in the corner. Then she washed the salty grief from her face and brushed her teeth. Quin had packed new toothbrushes, so she tossed the old one in the trash when she was done, and after detangling her hair with magic, she donned the clean gown and left the bathroom.
She forced herself to acknowledge her surroundings, taking one last look at the master bedroom’s custom furniture and artwork, but she didn’t stop to mourn them. Nor could she bring herself to visit the cheery turret room, magnificent library or magical solarium, and a trip to the nursery would probably leave her in a shattered heap on the floor, so she resisted the temptation and retraced her steps to the foyer, her gaze straight ahead, her mind on her kids.
The energy on the lawn had spiked as those who planned to leave double-checked their supplies and those staying behind smothered them in encouragement and advice.
Layla recalled the one time Katherine had let her go to summer camp without her. Everyone had gathered in the parking lot of the Gander Creek youth center to await the bus, and the view looked much like the one on the lawn. But this time it was dread that swished the stomach. Not excitement, and there was very little to celebrate in the depressed auras fluttering around the clearing. Only love. That was the one ray of hope holding them together.
The triplets had roused from their nap, and even though they weren’t fussing for a meal, Layla settled in to feed them. No matter what became of her, whether she failed and perished or succeeded and returned, she would never again get the chance to nurse her babies. Noon was upon them. Within an hour, she’d begin the heartbreaking process of drying up, and the suckling of puckered lips at her breasts would be a mere memory, a reminder of a sweeter time. The sweetest of her life.
Quin watched from the sidelines, prepared to intervene should someone try to pierce her bubble, but everyone kept their distance, aware this was a moment she’d never live again. She cried the whole time, but she was quick to dry her tears, and her breathing remained calm. Kaedan was the last to finish, lazily pulling away to flash a goofy grin soaked in milk, and Layla half laughed, half sobbed, hugging him to her bare chest as she hid her face in his waves.
By the time Layla composed herself and put away her breasts, Brietta and Kegan had arrived, glowing bright with revitalized attitudes toward life, but when Kegan noticed Timber at a table, rendered hexless with a mind shield, he halted and frowned. “What’s going on?”
Timber shook his head. “Apparently attending your wedding was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”
Layla left her bed, gathering Benzio for some love on her way to Timber. “Worse than burning down your house?”
“What?” Kegan blurted, glancing at Quin, who cuddled his daughter while offering a quick rundown of their visit to Timber’s property.
“What the hell, man?” Kegan asked, returning his attention to Timber. “Just tell them what’s going on.”
Timber narrowed his eyes and snapped a response. “No. It’s no one’s business what I do behind closed doors.”
Kegan stepped closer while pointing at Layla and Quin. “I get that you’re a private guy, but these aren’t ordinary people. They serve a divine purpose. Tell them the truth, and they’ll treat you fairly.”
“I can’t!”
Several people jolted at the fierce reply, but Timber was quick to calm down.
“I hear what you’re saying, Kegan, but it’s not going to happen. I’ll die a prisoner if I must.”
Alerted to the newlyweds’ arrival, Drexel soared into the clearing with Tristan, Emrys and a small group of Crusaders, catching the tail end of the conversation.
“We can’t keep a prisoner in the city,” Drexel noted. “If we don’t settle this by the time we get there, we’ll have to make a choice. Dispose of him or turn him over to the guards. Considering our lack of evidence, they won’t hold him for long.”
Timber flashed a smug smile, but he had no idea the lines Quin would cross to ensure Layla’s safety.
With all the travelers present and packed, there was nothing left to do but say goodbye, and everyone exchanged sad glances, unready to part ways.
Layla’s aura engulfed her surroundings in melancholy hues, but she was the first person to move. Rotating Benzio into a hug, she carried him to the bed and sat him on the mattress. Then she ignored everyone’s stares as she fixed his hair, straightened his collar, and took his cheeks in steady palms. “It’s time for your dad and me to leave.”
“Okay,” he agreed, wrapping her curls around his fingers.
She forced a smile and kissed his nose. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too.”
“But we’ll talk on the phone soon. Hopefully later tonight. When I call, grab a photo of me, and it will seem like I’m still here.”
“Will you have a photo of me?”
“Always. I’ll see your face every day and night.” She held up two fingers and summoned a piece of paper. “This is my phone number. Keep it in your special box and memorize it when you can. Call me any time you need to talk. I won’t always be able to answer right away, but I’ll call back as soon as I can.”
He took the number and scanned it. Then he tucked it in his pocket and moved in for a hug. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Benz. Be good for your grandparents. Keep your room tidy, your mind hungry, and your heart full. Keep being the best big brother you can be to the triplets, and take care of your coven the way they take care of you. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“Good,” she sighed. “We’ll be just fine.” She closed her eyes while giving him a squeeze, and though she somehow maintained her composure, there wasn’t a dry eye on the lawn.
She stayed subdued and strong as she kissed Shaylee and Alana, ruffled Brayden’s hair and hugged the rest of the coven, but when she approached her grandparents, her face flexed as her eyes filled with moisture. One by one, they showered her in love, doing their best not to enhance her grief, but her hands and knees trembled as her aura soaked them all. She embraced her babies last, holding them one at a time so she could cuddle them close, and her breathing deepened every time she handed one off and accepted the next.
When it was time to let the last one go, her chest heaved over hiccupping lungs. “Take them inside,” she rasped, on the brink of unravelling. “I can’t go if they’re out here.” She practically thrust Lilyana into Morrigan’s hands. Then she turned her back on them, shaking from head to toe while gripping her throat and heart. “Please.”
Quin ached to hold her, but he knew that would make her crumble, and he had yet to say farewell to his kids. Halting next to Layla, he stretched his fingers toward her, but he didn’t touch. Instead, he summoned her cloak and laid it over her shoulder. “I’m going to walk them to the porch. Then we’ll go.”
Keeping her eyes squeezed shut, she gave a jarring nod, so Quin gathered Benzio and followed her grandparents to the house. They stepped into the foyer, but Quin stayed on the threshold, hugging Benzio as tightly as he dared.
“Take care of Lil’ Bit for me.”
“I will,” Benzio promised.
Quin slid his fingers into fine hair then kissed the top of Benzio’s head. “Love you, buddy. We’ll talk soon, okay?”
“Okay. Love you, too.”
Following another kiss, Quin passed the toddler to Caitrin. Then he went down the line of triplets, unable to breathe as he tucked his finger in their palms and nuzzled their cherub cheeks. He couldn’t find the will to speak or meet the adults’ sorrowful stares, so after forcing himself from Lilyana’s soothing scent and aura, he gave an abrupt nod and turned away.
He found Layla’s colors as he distanced himself from his kids, somehow numb and achy all at once, but he didn’t have time to rage or mourn. The Crusaders had Timber wrapped in spells, the goodbyes had been said, and Layla had donned her cloak. Her lungs had settled, but her eyes remained shut as she tilted her tear-streaked face toward the sky, poised to either take flight or shatter.
Quin didn’t want to risk the latter, so he picked up his pace while slipping his arms in the cloak his mom held open. “We’ll call tonight,” he assured, letting her fasten the clasp, but he rushed the kiss to her cheek and the hug he gave his dad.
His jaw tightened as he left them behind, hoping to pull Layla into his empty arms, but she merely offered him a hand. He ignored the hit to his broken heart while linking his fingers with hers, and as his pulse hastened, her sweet voice echoed in his head.
‘You can hold me when we’re gone.’
With that, he discovered the motivation he needed to leave, so they gripped each other for dear life and took flight, resisting the temptation to look back.