Descension by B. C. Burgess Page B

with the real Layla; the way he’d reached out, half-expecting his fingers to move through her like they had in the visions, finding instead soft skin and silky spirals. He’d been mesmerized by the reddening of her pink cheeks when she blushed, and the flutter of long lashes over big, round, emerald eyes. She was perfection in the flesh, yet she clearly believed herself inadequate. She had no idea how beautiful she was. She had no idea what she was.
    Quin closed his eyes, remembering how it felt to hold her in his arms, and his stomach flipped and knotted. He’d never been more determined, nervous or concerned. One error in judgment could destroy more than his dreams. Others were at risk.
    The image of Layla’s smiling face blessed the backs of his eyelids, but he needed to focus, so he tried to shake the stunning vision away. It didn’t work, and he smiled, realizing her face was there to stay, eyes open or shut.
    His home came into view, and he sobered, descending into a large clearing thickly surrounded by trees and dotted with houses. His entire coven was on the lawn, awaiting his arrival, and two of them—Caitrin and Morrigan Conn—rushed forward when he landed.
    Caitrin was the first to speak, his deep voice lacking its usual serenity. “Is it true, Quinlan? Is she here?”
    “She’s here,” Quin confirmed, dropping his hood, “at the inn.”
    Morrigan sobbed and wrapped her arms around Caitrin’s waist, burying her face in his chest. “I can’t believe it. She’s here. She’s finally here.”
    “I can’t believe it either,” Caitrin whispered, stroking Morrigan’s curly hair. “Hope waned with each passing year.” He rested his cheek on her head, anxiously meeting Quin’s stare. “What did you discover?”
    “Her name’s Layla Callaway,” Quin answered. “She just moved here by herself from Oklahoma and says she didn’t leave a family behind.”
    Morrigan’s emotional sobs paused as Caitrin’s eyes narrowed. “She didn’t mention a mom?” he asked.
    “No,” Quin answered, “just two friends she worked with. She confesses to having family here—says she recently found out about them—but she lacks names and addresses, so she doesn’t expect to meet them.” He paused, bowing his head as he pulled a deep breath into his tight chest, unnerved and awakened to feel such heartache for a woman he barely knew. “She’s been through a hard time, Caitrin. She didn’t say it, so I don’t know what’s happened, but I can tell she’s struggling. She’s sad and insecure, and she’s spent too much time alone. It’s what she’s used to. We’ll have to be careful not to scare her. You need to alert Serafin right away.”
    “Yes,” Caitrin agreed, urging Morrigan from his chest. “How’s my sweet peach?”
    Morrigan straightened, trying to pull herself together. “I’m fine. Better than fine. I’m thrilled, but we can’t mess this up. It will kill me.”
    Caitrin took her cheeks, touching the tip of his nose to hers. “We’ll do everything in our power, Morrigan. I promise. Why don’t you go phone Daleen? Tell her everything we know so far.”
    “Okay,” Morrigan agreed, standing on her toes for a kiss. Then she soared across the lawn.
    Caitrin watched her go then turned back, clearly agitated. “How are we going to do this?”
    “I have no idea,” Quin replied. “Has anyone here ever told the hexless what we are?”
    Caitrin’s niece, Enid Gilmore, spoke as she stepped from the nearby crowd. “I told a friend in high school.”
    “How?” Caitrin asked.
    “I just told her,” Enid answered. “Then I made a matchbook disappear.”
    “How did she take it?”
    “She left the room and never spoke to me again.”
    The idea of watching Layla walk away made Quin nauseous. “Anybody else?” he asked, and his Grandpa Lann stepped forward.
    “I told a college professor,” he confessed, “after we polished off a bottle of absinthe together. I even turned his