Deception (8 page)

He finally caught her, but rather than retaliate, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and kissed her head. “You're my favorite, too, sis.”

Skyla smirked at the siblings then looked at Layla. “Are you racing?”

“Yeah,” Layla answered, “but you guys can't laugh too hard if my inexperience shows.”

“I can handle that,” Banning agreed, flashing a smile that stretched into his baby-blue eyes, “because I'll be busy laughing at the dust in Bri’s mouth.”

Brietta elbowed him in the ribs, and he responded by flipping her upside down and tickling her stomach.

“Stop,” she squealed, kicking her legs.

“Are you ready?” Quin asked, drawing Layla’s attention away from the comedic duo.

“As ready as I'll ever be,” she answered.

He smiled at her then looked to the others. “Line up.”

Banning and Brietta’s scuffle ended as they pushed each other away. Then they followed Skyla to the other side of Quin.

“How many laps?” Brietta asked.

“Two,” Quin answered. “Everyone ready?”

“Yep,” they confirmed, leveling their bodies out, so Layla followed suit, trying to ignore her flipping stomach.

“On three,” Quin continued. “And no cheating, Bann.”

“Come on,” Banning countered. “I wouldn't cheat when there's a newbie in the race.”

Quin winked at Layla, then looked ahead. “One . . . two . . . three.”

The five of them shot forward, and Quin took the lead right away. Layla scowled at him, noting how calm he looked as he gained speed, his agile and powerful form fine as ever.
Not
fair
. She probably looked like a crazy woman with wild hair and an awkward posture.

She straightened, trying to make herself more aerodynamic while sharpening her concentration and reaching for her limits; and she reaped a reward when Brietta disappeared from her peripherals.

Entering the second lap, Layla was less than an arm's length behind Quin, and she had no idea where the others were. At least she wasn’t losing, but she didn’t like falling behind Quin. Not because she was a sore loser, but because she struggled to compete with him in every aspect of their relationship. She was tired of being the amateur, damn it, so she put her head down and focused on moving faster. The next time she looked up, she was drawing even with his knees.

“Ha,” she approved, spurring a fresh burst of magic. They were almost to the finish line.

She looked over right before pulling upright, and was pleased to see Quin’s waist. She didn’t win, but there was a chance she’d beat him next time.

They both flipped vertical then spun around, looking for the others.

“Nuh-uh,” Layla mumbled. They’d beat their competition by more than half a lap!

“I told you,” Quin laughed, pulling her under his arm. “You’ll soon beat me at everything.”

The remaining competitors sped close and pulled to a halt.

“Geez, Layla,” Banning exclaimed. “Why haven't you been out here kicking my sister's butt before now? I had no idea you could already fly that fast.”

Layla shrugged as her cheeks warmed. “I didn’t know either. That’s the first time I've pushed myself.”

Brietta’s eyes widened, amplifying the various shades of green circling her pupil. “Really?”

Layla nodded, and Brietta flashed a cheeky smile as she pointed at Quin. “Ha! It's about time someone gave you a taste of your own medicine. I hope I get to see it the first time she beats you.”

“It won't be long,” he returned, “so watch closely.”

Layla looked at him, wondering if his ego was on the line, but he looked neither jealous nor insecure as he found her gaze and wiggled her nose. “Stop. You’re amazing and deserve every win you get.”

Warmth flushed her veins as she cuddled into his side, glad he’d rather lift her up than push her down.

“I got you this time,” Skyla giggled, poking Banning’s stomach.

“I wasn’t trying,” Banning claimed. “I didn't want you coming in last again.”

“Whatever. I beat you fair and square.”

Banning dropped the façade, smiling as he softly tugged on the waterfall of cinnamon-and-sugar tresses cascading over Skyla’s shoulders. “And it’s about damn time. I’ve been your target for seventeen years.”

“Yes, but I won’t be getting any slower. Now you’ll have to race the kids or the old folks if you want to win.”

“Get Brayden up here,” Banning joked. “I’ll show him who’s boss.”

Layla smiled at her cousin, admiring his sense of humor and humble attitude. Then Quin whispered in her ear. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” she answered, so they turned and descended toward the family.

They were still five feet from the ground when Alana jumped to meet them, and they both reached for her, pulling her between them as their feet found earth.

“Hi, cutie,” Layla greeted, pulling the toddler into a hug. She nuzzled her strawberry-blond curls then found her big, purple eyes, smiling as she softly pinched her nose. “How are you today?”

“Mommy says I’m spittin’ fia,” Alana answered. “You fwy weawwy fast. You'we awmost as fast as Quinwin.”

“Well thank you, angel.”

“You'we wewcome.” She reached for Layla’s hair, but then a baby lamb skipped by, followed by a rabbit, and Alana’s attention drifted. “Otay, put me down.”

Layla laughed as she reluctantly obeyed, and Alana took off after the creatures.

“Looks like you’re about to lose your champion status, Quinlan.”

Layla looked at the man who spoke, finding Quin’s great grandpa Catigern in a nearby chair, his hawk alertly perched on his shoulder.

“I didn't figure I’d hold onto it for long,” Quin replied.

“Yes,” Catigern agreed, “we knew she’d be one hell of a witch. How are you doing, Layla? Healing up?”

“Yes,” she answered. “How about you?”

“My injuries were minor and easily repaired by your grandpa. I’ve never met a better healer.”

“He’s amazing,” Layla agreed, glancing at Serafin. Then she returned her gaze to Catigern, struggling not to bow her head in shame. “I'm sorry you had to go through that.”

“Nonsense. We'll deal with what we must to keep our family safe.”

Quin gave Catigern's unoccupied shoulder a squeeze. Then he took Layla's hand and led her to a huge spread of food.

As they walked alongside the table with plates, Layla felt like she was at a Vegas buffet. “I can’t believe you guys eat like this all the time,” she mumbled, grabbing the most delicious looking strawberry she’d ever seen.

“Grandpa Cat grew that,” Quin replied.

“What?” Layla exclaimed. “Where?”

“There’s a garden by the barn.” He halted, his forehead wrinkling as he looked at her. “I need to get you over there.”

“Where?”

“The barn.”

“Oh yeah. You’d think I’d ask for a tour of the place.”

“You’ve been busy,” he excused, continuing down the table.

“I guess,” she mumbled. Then the subject flew from her mind. “Oh – my – god, there’s lobster.”

Quin laughed, and Layla threw a grape at him, smirking when he weaved to catch it in his mouth.

Once they’d gathered their lunch, they headed for two empty chairs between Morrigan and Kemble. Layla hovered her food so she could give her grandparents hugs. Then she retrieved her plate and sat next to Morrigan. Only then did Quin take a seat, and Layla had to curb another smirk.

“That was impressive flying, sweetie,” Morrigan commended.

“It sure was,” Kemble agreed, gingerly leaning forward. “It’s about time Quinlan’s reign came to an end. Ready to say goodbye, Son?”

Quin smiled as he swallowed a bite. “I can’t think of a more beautiful way to go.”

Kemble laughed as he sat back, and Layla looked at Quin. “So you're the fastest here? Out of the entire family?” She recalled Alana saying he was the fastest, but she figured the child was exaggerating about her beloved cousin Quinwin.

“He holds the record,” Kemble boasted, slapping Quin’s back.

“That’s an overstatement,” Quin clarified. “Bonded children are faster and more agile than others, so they keep a separate record for us.”

“Who did you steal the record from?” Layla asked.

“Your dad.”

Layla’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yep, and he stole it from your mom.”

“Crazy,” Layla whispered, reveling in the connection to her parents. Then she cleared her throat and leaned forward. “How are you feeling, Kemble?”

“Lucky,” he answered, and not in an
I
dodged
a
bullet
kind of way, but in an
I
have
an
amazing
life
kind of way.

Now she knew where Quin’s optimism sprang from.

“How about you?” Kemble returned. “Did Quinlan fix you up?”

“Yes. I can barely feel my injuries now.”

“Good,” he approved, squeezing his son’s shoulder.

Quin raised his eyebrows at Layla and pointed his fork at her plate. “As impressed as you were with the food, you barely filled your plate. Do you always eat tiny portions?”

Layla looked from her food to his. “I guess. Mom and I didn’t like to cook, so we grazed on snacks. Our main energy source was coffee. And chocolate. It’s one of my weaknesses, and she spoiled me with it.”

“The two of you didn't sit down for dinner?” Morrigan asked.

Layla laughed as she shook her head. “Mom lived life like she was working on a bucket list, so it was always go, go, go.”

“What kind of stuff did you do?” Daleen pressed.

Layla looked over, finding all four of her grandparents hanging on every word; and Morrigan’s apricot gaze was unmoving, shiny like the peach curls flowing down her back.

“Lots of things,” Layla elaborated. “We’d shop, fish or swim, or go on day trips to zoos and museums.”

“Do you like to fish?” Morrigan asked.

“No,” Layla answered. “I don't have the patience for it and I don't eat fish, but it's the thing to do in rural Oklahoma, so we’d take fishing poles and pretend to fish while we played in the mud.”

“That sounds fun,” Daleen approved.

“Mom made everything fun,” Layla confirmed. “She was more childish than me half the time. I miss her every day.”

“I’m sure,” Morrigan sympathized, twisting one of Layla’s curls around her finger.

“Aedan was confident in Katherine,” Serafin noted. “It’s a relief his theories held.”

“It wasn't theories,” Layla corrected. “Mom and dad loved Katherine, and she loved them. I got to see that in their memories.”

“Good,” Serafin whispered, wrapping his arm around Daleen, who cleared her throat and smiled at Layla.

“What else did you do in Oklahoma, darling?”

Quin laughed. “Layla's an overachiever.”

“Am not,” she objected.

Quin held up a hand and counted her extracurricular activities. “Various sports, dance, choir, theater, student council, and I’m sure the list goes on.”

She looked down, feeling like a nerd. “I spent one weekend a month volunteering at an animal shelter.”

“That’s an amazing list of accomplishments,” Serafin commended.

“Yes it is,” Caitrin agreed. “What position did you hold on the student council?”

Layla’s face warmed as she chewed and swallowed her food. “President, but that's not as special as it sounds. I was one of only two candidates. My graduating class had less than thirty people in it.”

“Let me guess,” Quin smirked, “you were valedictorian.”

She sighed as her cheeks caught fire. “Thirty people, Quin. It’s not like it was a grand challenge.”

“Nevertheless,” Caitrin interjected, “those accomplishments require dedication. Take pride in them. And don’t let Quinlan give you a hard time. If he’d put forth the effort, he would have graduated top in his class.”

“Ha,” Cordelia laughed. “Just getting him to go was a chore.”

“I needed a grand challenge,” Quin explained, giving Layla a wink.

“So did you ever stop working long enough to have fun?” Morrigan asked, pulling Layla’s attention around.

“I had a lot of fun,” Layla answered. “Mom made sure of it. You know,” she added, smiling at her grandparents, “I have a huge box of photographs from my childhood. You guys are welcome to look through them. There are some home movies as well.”

Their faces and auras lit up, and Morrigan nearly bounced out of her chair. “Oh, sweetie, we would love to see them. It would mean the world to us to get a glimpse of your childhood.”

“Okay,” Layla agreed. “We'll need a TV and VCR.”

“Then we’ll get them,” Daleen said, clapping her hands together. “I'm so excited to see those things, darling. You have no idea.”

Layla returned Daleen’s smile then looked at the food she was too full to finish. “I should have mentioned it sooner.”

“You've only been here six days,” Serafin disagreed, “and they've been filled with stress. We'll see those things when we have adequate time to admire them.”