Deception (3 page)

“I want her,” Agro fumed, approaching the feminine line.

The women braced themselves, prepared to stop him whatever the cost, but Agro motioned to his nearby soldiers, who quickly secured every witch save for the one in his line of sight.

“Your name,” he demanded, taking the young witch by the arm.

“Sky,” she meekly answered.

Agro turned, steering her toward the two-story Victorian. “You’re coming with me, Sky.”

“The hell she is,” a wizard objected.

Agro kept walking, barely glancing over as the rebellious wizard – one who’d already been tortured with searing, mystical chains – was tackled by five crimson cloaks.

“No,” the wizard bellowed.

But Agro ignored him as he spoke to Sky. “Whose house is this?”

“It’s empty,” she answered.

“Then why is there food in the fridge?” he asked.

The rebellious coven member shouted again. “No! Stop!”

Sky tried to look over, but Agro tightened his grip. “Who’s staying in this house?”

She swallowed as tears skated down her red cheeks. “I think Morrigan stocked it for Serafin and Daleen.”

“Aedan’s parents?”

“Yes.”

“Not Aedan’s daughter?”

“No,” Sky whispered, eyes growing huge as they reached the rose garden.

The struggling wizard shouted once more, his hysteria mounting. “No!”

Agro halted and turned, rotating Sky with him. “Who is that man?”

“My dad,” she squeaked, lips quivering. “Belinos.”

“Do you have something to say, Belinos?” Agro called. “Before your daughter takes me on a tour of this empty house?”

Blood trickled down Belinos’ face as he huffed and puffed, a knee in his back while four more soldiers anchored his appendages. He looked to his right, making eye contact with Caitrin. Then he turned his bloodshot gaze on his daughter. “Yes.”

“Belinos,” Caitrin hissed.

“Go to hell,” Belinos shouted back. “That’s my daughter.”

Agro grinned as he pulled Sky to her father. “You make a wise decision, Belinos. Tell me what you know.”

“She’s alive,” Belinos confessed. “Layla’s alive.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Agro seethed, “or your daughter will give me a tour of her tight little ass as well.”

Sky flinched, and Belinos nodded, flinging blood from his broken face. “After your last visit, we looked into it and learned you spoke the truth.”

“She’s not here,” Caitrin interrupted, “and never has been. Tell him, Belinos.”

But Belinos shook his head, unable to look Caitrin in the eye. Instead, he met Agro’s stare. “Layla isn’t here, but she’s close. We tracked her to a hotel in Portland.”

Agro’s chest expanded as a chill slid down his spine. He was finally getting answers.

“We were there,” Belinos added, “yesterday, but she’d already checked out.”

Agro’s chest deflated as his nostrils flared. “You waste my time on that? Come on, Sky.”

“No,” Belinos panicked, “there’s more.”

“Damn it,” Caitrin scorned.

“What do you want from me, Caitrin? He’s holding the cards.”

Caitrin bowed his head, and Belinos looked at Agro. “We found out where Layla was headed, so we sent Kemble’s son to track her down. I’ll give you the same information we gave him.”

“Which is?” Agro pressed.

“Seattle,” Belinos answered, “where her adopted mother grew up.”

“Her adopted mother hailed from Ketchum, Idaho.”

“No,” Belinos disagreed, “she grew up in Seattle, and we know that’s where Layla went, because she told a waitress her plans before checking out of her hotel Sunday. The front desk will corroborate my story.”

“Which hotel?”

“Let my daughter go, and I’ll give you the address.”

Agro looked at Sky, somewhat disappointed he wouldn’t get a private tour from her. Then he shoved her aside and ordered his men to lift Belinos from the ground. “You just saved your coven from slaughter, Belinos. They should praise you for it.”

“I doubt that’s the reaction I face,” Belinos muttered, motioning for Sky to move away.

Agro produced a piece of paper and handed it over. “Name and address of the hotel.”

While Belinos magically transferred the information onto the paper, Agro walked along the line of wizards, delivering his final warning. “I’m going to follow this lead, and if it takes me to Layla, this coven will be rid of me.” He paused, nudging Kemble’s limp body with his foot. “If I get this one’s son in the process, even better. But if I follow this lead only to find the trail goes cold, I’ll be back, and this is the last time I’ll leave this coven breathing. Next time you see my face, you will either deliver my witch, or you’ll die a painful death after watching my men have their way with your women. There will be no more warnings, no more friendly visits. This is the last time you’ll see me fly away empty-handed. Got that address, Belinos?”

Belinos held up a folded piece of paper, and Agro smiled as he snatched it from his hand. “Excellent.”

He motioned to his soldiers while scanning the hotel information. Then he turned to the defeated coven and waved farewell. “Let’s hope there won’t be a next time.”

Chapter 2

Quin spent half an hour filling Layla with heat and counting the seconds between her shaking spells. Tears continued to stream from her eyes as she shivered, but her sobs had quieted and her lungs had calmed.

Eventually, to Quin’s much needed relief, her quaking episodes ceased altogether, and he sighed as he glanced at Finley, just as he'd done thirty seconds before, and he’d do it again half a minute later.

“That's much better,” Quin approved, returning his gaze to Layla. “How are your bones? Anything feel out of place?”

“I wouldn't know,” she answered, “and I don't care. I'm so scared for them. How long do we have to wait? I don't know how long I can do this. I have to know if they're okay.”

“We have to give them time to search the houses, question the coven, and clear the area.”

“What if they figure out I'm staying in the house? They might kill someone. Or they might not leave.”

“We aren't going to think about the what-ifs. We can't do that to ourselves. We'll wait and deal with things when we know the facts.”

“I can’t, Quin. The what-ifs haunt me.”

“I know, but I need you to stay calm, or I’ll be healing more bones.”

Finley got to his feet, and Quin whipped his head up. “Where are you going?”

“To take a piss,” Finley answered. “Would you like a play-by-play?” He smiled and raised his eyebrows. “Layla might be interested in some of it.”

The comment went ignored, so Finley turned and walked away. Quin waited for his pale aura to disappear behind a tree trunk. Then he quickly moved the blanket from Layla's torso and ran a hand along her ribs.

“I think they're okay,” she mumbled.

He found nothing out of place, so he covered her up and pulled her into a hug. “I'm sorry you had to wake up to this.”

“I don't care about that, Quin. I just want to know our family's safe.”

“We’ll head back soon,” he assured, watching Finley return.

Finley rolled his eyes as he sat and reached for a redwood needle. “You're an arrogant man, Quin. One would think you'd be humbled by the fact that someone else has been saving your woman's life left and right.”

“Shut up,” Layla snapped.

“It’s okay,” Quin whispered. He’d just calmed her down and didn’t want to start over. “His attempt to upset me isn’t working.”

“He’s upsetting me,” she countered.

“Did you hear that?” Quin asked, looking at Finley.

“That's fine,” Finley smirked. “It’s par for the course. I save the day, and you become the hero, because you cater to her like a slave. You know, Layla, you should consider cutting your servant loose. Relationships like that never work.”

“What do you know about relationships?” she returned. “As far as I can tell, you have no one.”

Finley’s face fell as he narrowed his eyes, and his burning aura momentarily slipped free.

“Looks like you hit a nerve,” Quin noted.

“Well I feel sorry for you, Finley,” Layla added. “Apparently you’ve had a shitty life.”

“I don't need your pity,” Finley seethed.

“You need something,” she countered. “There has to be a reason you’re so hateful.”

He shook his head and smoothed his expression. “I'm not. I just don't like your boyfriend.”

“Quin's more than my boyfriend, and there's no reason for you to dislike him. He hasn't done anything to you.”

“I don't like his attitude.”

“You're one to talk. You have the worst attitude of anyone I know. You weren't like this when I met you. If you'd acted this way Tuesday, I would have told you to get lost.”

“If I remember correctly, you were sitting alone that day because your precious Quin broke your heart.”

“You don't know anything about that situation, so keep your judgments to yourself.”

“I saw enough to know he hurt you. You tried to hide it by concealing your aura, but your red cheeks and swollen eyes exposed his betrayal.”

“Enough,” Quin interjected.

Finley flashed an indulgent smile. “Now I've hit a nerve.”

“Why
are
you so hateful?” Quin asked. “I've never met a bonded child with so much hostility. Most of us have loving families. What's yours like?”

“That's none of your business.”

“Did they abandon you?”

“Drop it, Quin.”

“Are they dead?”

Finley jumped to his feet, and Quin flexed as Layla jolted.

“I said drop it,” Finley repeated. “It's none of your business who or where I come from.”

“You've been prying into our business like it's your full time job,” Quin countered, “so it shouldn't come as a surprise when we question yours. It's suspicious how much effort you put into hiding the truth.”

“The world doesn't need to know me, Quin. You should understand why considering you keep Layla locked in your community.”

“Layla's hiding because she's been targeted, but you’re not on anyone's radar. You wander out in the open, letting all the locals see you, but you don’t let anyone know you. Even now that our coven knows your status, you remain hidden. What is it about your past you don't want people to know? Or is it your future you're hiding?”

“My past and future are nobody's business.”

“That might be true if you weren't sticking your nose in our business. You have ulterior motives concerning your move into our community, and they don’t appear honorable. You claim you want to help Layla, but you’re more worried about getting your hands on her.”

“You know, Quin, if you hadn't gotten to her first, she might not mind my hands on her.”

“Blah,” Layla mumbled, laying her head on Quin's shoulder.

“Don't be so naive,” Finley argued. “Quin slapped a blindfold on you before giving you a chance to see he's not the god you think he is. You wouldn't be so wrapped up in him if you'd been given options.”

“I’m not interested,” she dismissed.

“Because you don't know any better,” Finley insisted. “Quin’s replaceable and lacks the means to provide the life you deserve, a life only I can give you.”

Tired of his theories, Layla raised her head and looked over. “So why don't you tell me, Finley, what exactly you can offer me that Quin can't?”

Finley watched her with calculating eyes and a thin mouth, and Quin knew what was coming. Finley was about to lay his offer on the table. Layla had handed him the floor, and he was going to take it, presenting her with unimaginable opportunities.

Quin carefully curled his fingers in her hair and hugged her as tightly as he dared, struggling with the urge to hold his breath.

“I'm waiting,” she fumed. “You're so sure you have more than he does, so let's hear it, big shot. What makes you so damn special?”

Finley began pacing, but his eyes stayed on Layla as he calmly delivered his spiel. “You and I are more special than anyone. We’re the only two of our kind, which should mean something to you, but that damn blindfold keeps you from seeing the possibilities. All the experiences you've had with Quin would be a thousand times better with me. All the magic Quin's impressed you with is shit compared to the magic I can show you. Every connection you've made with him would pale next to the connections we’d make. The world would be at our fingertips. If you wanted it, you’d get it. If you needed it, you’d receive it. Even our children would thrive beyond all others. They’d be able to do and have anything they want. We would be the closest thing to royalty the magical world has ever known, and we’d reap nothing but benefits from the unique position. Above all, Layla, this danger you're fretting over, this helplessness you're feeling, would melt away. No more running, no more broken bones, and no – more – hiding. If you and I joined forces, nothing could touch us, and you’d be rid of your fears and cleansed of your worries. No more shackles, just absolute freedom.” He paused, running a hand through his wavy, blond hair as he faced them. “That’s what I can offer you. Quin can't touch those things. He's below average compared to me, and if you stick with him, you’ll be running scared for the rest of your short life.”