Luke drew her in and Layla let him. Their lips met and his opened to hers as they breathed together with a heady passion and riveting energy. For a moment, Layla was there in his warm, strong arms; kissing him, needing him, being with him. And then her Dragon-magic lashed out in a tirade of fury, screaming up her throat and pouring into his body in a torrent of fire and rage.
That Luke wasn’t her mate – and never would be.
With a short scream, Luke doubled over, spasming as he clutched his chest and abdomen. He screamed again, jerking in pain, twisting with it, his body in a spastic chorea now upon the bed. Alarm raced through Layla as she tried to touch him. But at the touch of her hand, that fire of her Dragon-nature whipped out again like a barbed tail; hammering into Luke’s body and making him scream again, jerking in spastic agony on the bed like a spider in death-throes.
Layla screamed, terrified and not knowing what to do. On the heels of her scream, the front door slammed open downstairs, the Celtic door-harp jangling in cacophonous fury as it hit the wall. Two pairs of footfalls raced up the stairs as she screamed again, her head whirling and her magics still roaring, watching helplessly as Luke continued to seize upon the bed. He was bleeding at the mouth now with a white froth, blood dripping from his ears and the vessels in his eyes burst as his eyes rolled up in his head from whatever Layla’s magic had done to him. The door to Luke’s room was hammered in by someone; slamming back against the wall.
And rather than one of Layla’s housemates, it was Dusk who barreled in – rushing to Luke and roaring at Layla to get off the bed and stand back.
She did. Her mind was in a whirl as Dusk ran over, setting his palms to either side of Luke’s thrashing head and holding him steady as he poured an incredible rush of vibration through Luke’s body with a surge of his river-water scent. Layla had no idea how Dusk had gotten here, but none of that mattered as she stared at Luke, rigid with terror. He had just begun to steady in Dusk’s strong hands when the edge of Dusk’s deep, rippling vibrations found Layla – flooding her with hard waves of ecstasy and causing her magic to roar through the room again. It caused Luke to seize all over again, screaming in short bursts as someone else rushed into the room and Dusk roared back over his shoulder, “Get her out of here!”
“Come on, Layla. You have to go.”
Layla hardly even registered that it was Adrian now hustling her downstairs and out of the house, down the front porch and out to the edge of the driveway where his black Bentley waited. Screams still issued from the house, but as the evening chill cooled Layla’s skin and calmed her beast’s rampage under the streetlights by the sidewalk, she at last heard the shrieks inside the house quiet. Breathing with Adrian out in the darkness, still dressed only in Luke’s sleep shirt and socks, tension swamped Layla, fear heaving through her. The fear quieted her beast, quelling her hot passions in a lake of ice that now shivered her veins with the cold September drizzle.
Terror filled Layla for a long series of minutes as an ominous silence issued from the house. She hardly dared breathe, wondering what was going on inside; wondering if Luke would be ok or if he was even still alive. At last, Dusk emerged from the house and jogged down the front porch, approaching them at a brisk clip in his immaculate grey suit, though it was visibly rumpled, his tie pulled loose, his collar unbuttoned, and bloodstains on his sleeves. Dusk’s artful waves had been ruined, his hair askew as he passed a shaking hand over his eyes as if exhausted, a ripple of light refracting through his hair. His sapphire gaze was bleak in the light of the street lamps as he glanced to Adrian, then Layla.
“He’s stable, thank god – more or less. But your magics bit a hole in one of his more prominent arteries, Layla. He’s got severe internal bleeding and I can’t stop it. I’ve called 911; they’ll be here any minute. We should be gone before they arrive.”
“My magics – what?” Tears filled Layla’s eyes.
Dusk’s sapphire gaze was calm but bleak as he spoke. “Dragons don’t take well to inferior mates, Layla. Your magic’s grown stronger over the past week, being immersed in the vibrations of the Twilight Realm. Strong enough that your Dragon recognized Luke as a potential mate – and judged him unworthy. When Adrian told me you had an ex back home that you were still close to, and that it was your friend Luke—” His gaze shifted to Adrian, then back to her. “We had to come. Not Hotel business, just us. Your magic, the way it is right now, so newly opened and without the restraint of your talisman – it could have killed him.”
Tears filled Layla’s eyes, spilling over. Emergency sirens wailed in the distance and she hitched a breath, an ice-cold chill spearing her veins. As she stared up into Dusk’s bright sapphire eyes under the streetlights, feeling Adrian’s warm body holding her in the dreary night, she suddenly knew what they had been trying to tell her all along. That she wasn’t human; that she couldn’t pretend to be, no matter how much she looked like it on the outside. That she was the daughter of a Royal Dragon Bind, a dangerous Lineage with unpredictable magic that had a tendency to go disastrously wrong.
That she was something which didn’t belong in the human world – or in this house.
“I can never go home,” Layla gasped, shuddering as she clutched Adrian’s hands where they held her. “I almost killed Luke. I can never go home again…!”
“Come home with us,” Dusk stepped close, taking up her hand as he poured a soothing vibration through her, his sapphire eyes earnest and clear. “Be home with us, Layla. With your people; with your clan. We can’t ever replace the human connections you’ve formed in your life, but maybe we can help you make new ones. People who won’t be in danger from you; people who know what you’re going through.”
“Come home with us, Layla,” Adrian echoed, his rich coffee-smooth voice in her ear as he cradled her close. “I know I’ve been an asshole withholding so much from you, but please come back. You can punish me as much as you want; you can shred me to pieces with your magic if you want to, and I’ll take it. I’ll fall to my knees and let you rip me apart with your wrath, I swear I will. But please, come back with us. Come back – to your clan.”
The sirens were closer now. The front door of the house gaped wide, warm golden tones spilling out into the darkness. But the cozy craftsman home was not hers anymore, and Layla had almost killed the person she loved most inside of it. “Do you promise Luke will be ok?” She rasped, a hard clench tightening her gut.
“I’ve done all I can for him.” Dusk’s gaze was pained but honest. Lifting a hand, he gestured to the car with her black beaded clutch, taken from the house. “It’s time to let the paramedics do their work. We can’t be caught here, Layla. Our presence is not something we want known in the human world. It’s not safe.”
With a hard in-breath, Layla nodded, understanding. As she readied herself to step out from the circle of Adrian’s arms, she felt Adrian hold something up beside her. Glancing down, she saw the Moroccan cuff with its bone-white hamsa and red coral teardrop glistening like a drop of blood in the wet Seattle night. Layla stilled, a hot whip of fury shivering her before the truth settled in. Her magics were far more stable with her talisman on. Had she been wearing it tonight, none of this might have happened.
At least, not as badly as it had.
“It’s your choice,” Adrian murmured softly.
Drawing a breath, Layla realized it was her choice. Her choice to deny what she was or to embrace it, coming to terms with her family history and all the secrets that had been kept from her. If she ran, if she pretended to be human, this would happen again, only worse. But if she embraced her Lineage, she could find answers – the truth of who and what she was.
Reaching out, Layla took up the Moroccan hamsa-cuff. A flare of heat washed through her as she pulled the silver pin and clasped the talisman back around her left wrist, setting the pin and sealing her manacle back in place. But as a serene hum of energy washed through her, calm now rather than a whip of roaring heat, she realized it wasn’t a manacle at all. Adrian had fooled her with it, binding her to himself as he woke her magics, but that bind wasn’t complete. This talisman was hers; hers by right, hers by magic. It had chosen her that day in the gallery and it was hers now, to help serve her in her journey.
To help her take back her sovereignty and her Lineage from the forces that would consume it.
Stepping out from Adrian’s encircling arms as ambulance sirens wailed at the end of the block, Layla faced Adrian and Dusk so they formed a triangle in the night. Lifting her chin, she gazed at them both, then nodded.
“Take me home.”
CHAPTER 29 – HOME
Stepping into her apartment, the first thing Layla saw as she returned to the Red Letter Hotel Paris was a wealth of cards and flowers waiting upon her small breakfast table. Other than the cards and gifts, everything was as she’d left it that night she’d walked out on Adrian after their date; her furniture, her wardrobe, her bed. Standing in a grey v-neck sweater with skinny jeans and tall boots that Dusk had bought her before they’d departed Seattle, Layla let out a slow breath. The Moroccan hamsa-cuff throbbed at her wrist and she reached out, adjusting it absently. Stepping over to the table, she lifted a card with a colorful Tibetan mandala printed on it in ochres and saffrons.
Layla, we miss you terribly at yoga class. Your bright spirit enlivens the room. Please come back to us. Yours truly, Rake André
