Deception (31 page)

“What do you mean?” Quin urged, stepping closer to the bed.

Layla wanted to look at him, but kept staring at the wrinkled sheet. “You were right, Quin. All along. Finley didn't just stumble upon me on the beach that day. He found me in a vision.”

“What?” Caitrin asked.

“A vision,” she repeated. “He said he summoned visions of me and found me when no one else could. And he mentioned something about the souls guiding him, that he’d begged them for visions, and that they abandoned him when he took me, but he wouldn’t go into detail about them. Anyway, back to the beginning. He found me when I still lived in Oklahoma, and he went there to see me, at which point everything fell into place for him – his purpose in life and some other crazy stuff.”

The room was so silent, Layla wondered if everyone was breathing. She threw a glance at Quin and found him looking back with his arms folded over his chest, his face pale and tense. He looked mad and nauseous, like he was going to vomit, but Layla knew he wouldn’t. He was stronger than that.

She looked back down and continued the difficult tale. “He didn't want to just walk up and try to convince me to run away with him, so he came up with the most insane plan I've ever heard. It makes no sense at all, and anyone in their right mind would agree. Finley decided he wanted to be my hero. He said he needed to show me how dangerous my life would be without him, and he thought saving me would make me fall in love with him, so…” She took a deep breath then dropped the bomb. “…he sold me out to Agro.”

Morrigan and Daleen gasped as Quin growled. “Why?”

“To play my hero.”

A low rumble arose from Quin’s chest, like it had come from somewhere much deeper than his diaphragm, and Layla looked up, sadly watching him shift his raging gaze to the ceiling.

“His plan was for the Unforgivables to hunt me down in Oklahoma,” she whispered, “so he could swoop in and save me.”

“I can't believe this,” Quin breathed, roughly rubbing his jaw. “That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard.”

“He thought it was brilliant,” Layla countered. “He actually said that, but he wasn't playing with a full deck, and his misguided plan didn’t stop there.”

Quin pulled his hand from his face and found her stare. “There's more?”

“Oh yeah, there’s more. Obviously he followed me here, and he tried to switch tactics by arranging the meeting on the beach. All he wanted to do was introduce himself and get in my good graces, but then you came into the picture, and he went back to plan A. He wanted to play hero, so he summoned a vision of me walking alone and called Farriss to the scene.”

Every mouth fell open, and Quin turned his back on her, his bloody aura expanding around rolling muscles.

Layla swallowed a thick lump then returned her gaze to the blankets. “I wasn't supposed to get hurt. He said he was there the whole time and intended to rescue me before the actual attack, but he didn't know Morrigan would give me a guard dog. When Hypnos charged him, he moved away to… to kill him, and by the time he got back, the damage had been done. He considered taking me then, but he wanted me to go willingly, so he took me home and worked his way into the community.” She sighed, thankful the story was over. “You guys know the rest.”

Quin looked at Caitrin, and Layla raised an eyebrow at his enraged profile.

“How did we not see how insane this guy was?” Quin demanded.

“I have no excuses,” Caitrin replied. “I don't know how we missed it.”

“I do,” Layla interjected. “Finley was a maniac, but he rationalized his actions, and he did it well. He had unfailing conviction in the things he said. He really believed his plans were brilliant, and he honestly thought he was helping me with all this. You should have heard him talk. It was like a mathematician explaining how one plus one equals two. He genuinely believed he was a good guy; that his intentions were honorable and beneficial for both of us. He saw his selfishness and greediness as determination and preservation, and he saw his obsession as love. When someone walks up truly believing those things about themselves, it's hard to see through it. We knew he was after me, but we thought he meant me no harm, and we were right. That's exactly what he
meant
. In his own head, he wasn't harming me, he was helping me.”

The next several seconds passed in silence while everyone absorbed the story and tried to figure out where they went wrong. Layla fidgeted with the blanket as she watched them, wishing there was something she could say to ease their guilt and sadness. Then she found Quin, who’d turned toward the bed, but he kept a hand over his tense expression. She hated seeing him in such a dark place and wanted her light back.

“Hey,” she called.

His hand slid to his tight throat. “Hey back.”

“Come here.”

Morrigan rose from the bed as Quin flew to take her place, and Layla pulled her left arm out of numbness so she could touch his tense cheek. “There's nothing else you can do about this, Quin. You've done more than enough already, and dwelling on regrets just gives Finley the power to haunt us. I’m ready to move on. I don't like thinking about it, and I don't like seeing you think about it, so now that everyone knows why this happened, let’s put it behind us, focus on what's ahead of us, and appreciate what's in front of us. Please.”

His sexy lips curved into a small smile as he laid a hand over hers. “You have the most beautiful outlook on things, my love. And, yes, if you’re ready to put this behind us, I’m ready, but there's one more thing we have to take care of first.”

“What?”

“We have to make you well. When I see your pain, I see what caused it, and that won't stop until you're better.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let's get to healing.”

“We will, after you eat something. And no coffee.”

Her jaw dropped. “What?”

“I want you to try to sleep through the healing process,” he explained.

“No coffee?” she mouthed, still staring at him in disbelief.

He smiled and kissed her wrinkled forehead. “You can have all the coffee you want in a little while. I promise.”

“You're mean to your patients,” she pouted.

“I love my patient,” he corrected. “Now tuck that pout in. Once this is done, you can have all the coffee you want so you can stay awake in my arms. Deal?”

Her heart fluttered as she closed her eyes, imagining the moments to come. She was ready for his arms, desperate for them, and the thought of them tightly wrapped around her would remain in the forefront of her mind while she coped with the impending pain. “Deal.”

Exerting her usual stubbornness, Layla asked her grandparents to treat the most serious injuries first and to work on four different areas at once, which left her writhing in agony throughout the first half of her healing. Eyes squeezed shut, she clutched the sheets and sucked her lips into her teeth, muffling pained squeaks and moans.

Quin stood near the head of the bed, struggling to breathe as he watched her suffer. His stomach churned, and he wished he hadn’t eaten a sandwich before starting, but it was the best way to encourage her to eat, so he’d forced it down; now he fought to keep it down, unwilling to go purge the nauseating bile. She could open her eyes any second, and he wanted to be there when she did.

After more than three agonizing hours, Serafin talked Layla into taking a break, insisting she lie in numbing peace for a while, and as soon as the pain ebbed, a wave of exhaustion struck. Her eyelids fluttered then dropped. Then she popped them open and found Quin. “Hey.”

He eased his weight onto the bed and brushed her unruly hair aside, giving her forehead the kisses he’d been saving. “Hey back.”

“I'm about to fall asleep,” she noted. “I want you to go do what you need to do.”

“You go to sleep, but I'm going to stay.”

“No, Quin. You need a break as much as anybody. Besides, if you go take care of things now, we'll get our undisturbed time sooner.”

“We'll have that time no matter what, Layla. The moment you're better.”

“Go, Quin. I'm going to sleep, so there's no reason for you to stay. Just do me one favor.”

“It's yours.”

“Hurry.”

“I was going to do that anyway. Name another.”

“Okay. If I'm asleep when you get back, don't leave me that way. Wake me up.”

He smiled as he stroked her heavy lids. “I’m not going to wake you up if they’re still healing you.”

“Fine, but as soon as it's over.”

“Deal.”

“I love you, Quin. Don't stay away too long.”

“I won't, angel. I can't.” He gave her another kiss on the forehead, then one on the lips. “See you soon, love.”

She smiled as she closed her eyes, and he waited for her to fall asleep before saying a silent goodbye to the others and hastening from the suite.

Despite his efforts to hurry, Quin’s errands took longer than he anticipated, and his nerves were scorching by the time he returned to the inn.

Palms itching, he entered the suite’s master bedroom to find Layla’s bright aura flowing peacefully, and his heart sighed as the twisted mess in his stomach loosened. He moved to the foot of the bed, taking in her closed lids and serene features. Then he scanned her grandparents' auras, which were much calmer than before.

“Did she stay asleep?” he whispered.

Caitrin shook his head no, and Quin cringed as the knot in his stomach tightened. “How was she?”

“Strong,” Caitrin assured, “and thinking about you.”

“I should have stayed.”

Caitrin shook his head again, a small smile twitching his exhausted features. “They were good thoughts. She forced herself to go back to sleep so you could wake her.”

Quin raised a hand to his heart, half-expecting it to melt into his palm. “Are you almost done?”

“We are done. We're merely alleviating the soreness and double-checking for scars.”

“That's all that's left? Soreness?”

“Yes.”

“You're sure?”

“Yes, Quinlan. She’s in fighting form, but you'll double-check no matter what I say.”

“Good point,” Quin conceded, heading for the closet to unpack their clothes. “Keep working on her. When we see her aura pick up, I'll wake her.”

“That was our plan.”

They continued to ease her strained joints and muscles, and Quin stood nearby, watching her breathe while counting the seconds. When the sparkly, dark-brown ribbon in her aura began twisting and picking up speed, her grandparents hovered from the bed and left the room, wearily leaning on one another.

Quin stepped closer to the bed, vanishing his shirt as he floated the top hem of the sheet from Layla’s neck to her waist. She was nude, and goose bumps broke out across smooth flesh unburdened by bruises and welts.

He carefully sat beside her and looked down, taking a few seconds to examine her uninjured face – her strong and beautiful features. They called his name and spiked his heart rate, propelling a tingle down his spine as he leaned in. Her sweet scent found his senses as her aura parted around him, and his eager fingertips swept across her healthy cheek, caressing its rosy glow. He’d been waiting for this moment for more than twenty-four heart-wrenching hours, and he couldn’t wait any more.

Lowering his needy lips to hers, he finally let himself drink. “Layla, my love.”

Her eyes popped open, and her hands flew to his face, pulling him into a deep and hungry kiss, the kind of kiss usually shared with closed eyes, but not this time. Neither of them looked away as they shared more than a kiss. Their longing took on a physical quality, and tingling sparks zipped between their lips.

Layla clutched his jaw tighter, as if he’d evaporate should she accidentally let go, and the electrifying energy slipping from his lips traveled to her toes. Her nipples tightened as her hips twitched, and she realized she was no longer numb.

She sobbed into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, but she couldn't get close enough; she wanted every inch of her body touching his. She squeezed tighter, and his arms covered her back, firmly pulling her against him.

Her lungs yanked in a choppy breath, forcing her from his lips, so he slid his kisses down her throat to her shoulder. Blissful tears swelled from her lids, and she buried her face in his solid neck, letting the moisture and emotions flow.

He didn’t seem to mind and kept kissing every inch of skin his lips could reach, repeating the pattern over and over again. He eventually worked his fingers into her messy hair, spreading tingles across her scalp, and his lips slid to her ear, kissing then whispering. “I love you so much, Layla. It's unreal how much.”

She used magic to clean her tearful mess. Then she left his neck and found his dark eyes. She could stare at them forever, but she was already missing his lips, so she slid her thumbs to his dimples and pulled him into a much longer kiss. Eyes drifting shut, she urged his cheek to her pillow, and they lay that way for a long time, losing themselves in tight hugs and sensual kisses.

Layla could feel his heartbeat, and it matched her own, slowing to a hard and steady thrum as urgency flowed into contentment. She smiled and sighed, vibrating his tongue. Then her lids fluttered open. “I really needed that.”