Page 2 of Captivating Magic

Stark pain came and went in Wilder’s eyes, and his expression tightened. “Yeah, well, I’m home for the foreseeable future.” He glanced at Lo, and a silent communication traveled between them—one of abject sympathy on Laszlo’s part and icy disdain on Wilder’s.

Having lost his love during a climbing trip, Wilder had returned a broken man. Miserable and tortured because his magic had failed him when he needed it the most. The timing had coincided with an enemy’s attack on the entire Thorne family, resulting in a collective loss of power. A rebuff from Wilder came when Laszlo couldn’t call up Abbie’s ghost and give his brother the peace he so desperately craved.

It was only recently that Wilder had begun venturing out for coffee or the occasional social interaction. Whenever their family tried to rally around him and show their support, he rejected their overtures, unprepared to discuss in detail what happened on that mountain.

“Well, I need to get back. Work and all,” Wilder said before striding away just short of a run. His demons were always nipping his heels.

“What happened with your brother, Lo?” Ebba asked, her gaze locked on Wilder’s retreating back.

“I’d have thought Liz would’ve told you.”

“No. She keeps family stuff private.”

It occurred to him that she might not know his family possessed magical abilities, and it left him scrambling. Covering his disconcertion with another long drink of his cappuccino, he mentally ran through his memories and their previous interactions. They all equated to the same thing.

Ebba didn’t know what they were. Liz had never revealed they were a family of powerful witches.

Shit.

“The basics are that my brother and his girlfriend were on a climbing trip, and her rope broke, sending her plummeting down the mountain. They never found her body, though not for lack of trying.”

“Ohmygod! Poor Wilder! Poor Abigail!” Tears brimmed in Ebba’s large eyes. “I met her once and remember thinking they were so perfect together.”

“Yeah.” Lo shook off the horror of the incident as best he could. Still, as one who could actually see and speak to ghosts, he found it difficult to dismiss the fact that Wilder’s girlfriend had never attempted to make contact after passing away. Loved onesalwayssought to connect.

“Have you… uh, well, done your psychic thing for him?”

He narrowed his eyes. “What exactly do you think you know about me and what I do, Ebba?”

“With your success rate and by all the positive Google reviews, I thought you were able to, you know, talk to the dead.”

Fuck!

“All the positive Google reviews?” he asked, dread weighing down his heart.

She nodded. “There’s all sorts of testimonials in favor of your work.”

“I see.”

Outside, he maintained a calm façade, but on the inside, he was a bubbling cauldron of panic. Over the years, he’d kept what he could do under wraps as much as possible, yet somehow, news of his ability had leaked to the internet. More and more people would be seeking him out soon.

“Am I wrong, Lo?”

“Not really, but it’s not as basic as people believe.”

“How so?”

Hoping to ease his irritation, he rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around the coffeehouse. Gauging the distance between tables and exactly how much could be overheard, he decided a conversation muffler was necessary for what he needed to tell her.

“Sonus distorquere,”he murmured.

“What?”

“It’s Latin, and I’m distorting our conversation so others can’t hear us.”

“Oh-kayyyy.” Ebba laughed.

He answered her amused look with an unblinking stare.

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