Page 28 of Captivating Magic

The sensation of his balls shriveling to raisins almost had him unzipping and checking his junk. Never had a man backpedaled so fast in the face of a woman’s rage as Laszlo did.

“No, Exalted One! I unthinkingly laid them there when we began casting the circle. The spell is meant to trap Spencer—the soul occupying Ebba’s body. I swear.”

His adrenaline spiked, and the need to flee from her fury was causing his heart to hammer. Nausea churned his belly, threatening to spew forth. Struggling to keep it down and not shit his pants in the process, he passed the back of his wrist across his upper lip to mop the sweat forming there.

“I meant no harm or disrespect.”

Her kohl-lined, amber eyes narrowed with her displeasure, and it belatedly occurred to him where his father’s family had obtained their unique looks. Many times while growing up, he and his brothers had been the recipients of a similar stare from Leland Thorne. Or they were until he took off for parts unknown, never to return.

“Is my dad on the other side?” He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to ask, other than Leland’s resemblance to Isis. Long ago, he’d given up caring about the man who couldn’t be bothered to contact his family.

“No. He’s not a resident of the Otherworld.” Her haughty response was tempered by a grudging kindness, suggesting she understood the endless agony of not knowing.

Endless agony? Where did that ridiculous sentiment come from?

“What of Hell? Would you know if he’s a resident there?” Ebba asked the Goddess, somehow sensing his desire to know but also realizing he would never venture to ask.

“I would know. All souls, even mortals such as yourself, come through the waiting room of the Otherworld. Leland Thorne never crossed the veil. As far as I know, he’s still living.”

Lo’s breath whooshed out, and he met Alastair’s considering gaze. A discussion was in order, he was sure.

Overhead, the clouds began morphing into different shapes as they darkened in color. The sky’s afternoon light flickered as if transitioning to an eclipse. The air currents picked up, blowing the salt from their protective circle to the winds, and the items flew from the altar, landing a hundred feet to Laszlo’s left, far from Isis.

“Calm your emotions, child,” she advised him. “Like Alastair, yours are tethered to your power. I imagine you’ve never been upset enough to cause a tornado, but as an air elemental, you have the potential.”

“Lo is doing this?” Ebba glanced around in wonder. “The wind, light, and swaying trees?”

“Indeed.” The Goddess sauntered to the stone altar, spread her arms, and used the current he caused to lift herself. When she rotated toward them, her long locks were dancing with the breeze and the skirt of her dress was playing a game of peek-a-boo with her smooth, shapely legs. “My advice is to cherish, not squander, the time you have with your beloved, Laszlo Thorne. Every moment counts while she’s with you.”

The entry to the veil glowed behind her as she tapped one tapered finger against her pouting lips, the picture of a woman deep in thought. “I suppose it’s a good thing you don’t have a familiar to amplify your power. This area would be devastated by your brewing storm.”

11

“There’s a clue in her parting words.” Castor nodded toward the sealing veil. It snapped shut with a spark and sizzle behind Isis’s grand exit. “She’s great with riddles.”

“You think she was trying to get a message across?” Ebba asked, fighting a yawn.

Her energy had amped up in the presence of the Goddess, but now that the deity was gone, fatigue was knocking on her door and reminding her she’d been active far too long. Spirits were like the living, and they needed to rest and regenerate. Sleep was as imperative to her as it was to any other.

“Undoubtedly,” Alastair replied in his stead. Of Lo, he asked, “Have you ever called forth your familiar?”

“I’ve never felt the need.”

Glancing between them, Ebba wanted to ask what all their discussion of familiars meant, but kept silent. She gleaned the concept from books she’d read and television she’d watched for entertainment. What self-respecting paranormal fan didn’t know about the talking cat fromSabrina the Teenage Witchor the beautiful cat with a Triquetra symbol on its tag in the seriesCharmed? More recently, birds of prey, like Hedwig fromHarry Potter, were symbolized as familiars.

Ebba frowned, recalling Liz and Laszlo watching some of those shows and movies with her. Their unexplained hysterical laughter now made a helluva lot of sense.

“What?” he asked, edging closer to wrap an arm around her waist. Or what should’ve been. His touch never landed, instead sweeping through her, causing a chill.

“Okay,thatwas freaky.” She shuddered and sat down, using the stone wall for support. At least the smooth surface still felt solid!

Lo followed, plopping beside her, stretching his legs out, and crossing his ankles. With his hands folded in his lap, he rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “Why are you frowning so hard, Ebba?”

“I was thinking about the whole animal-familiar thing and recalled you and Liz laughing at me when we were younger.”

“What?”His lids flew open, and he stared at her as if she’d suddenly developed a fat, hairy wart on her nose. “We never laughed at you! How the hell can you—ah!” His lips curled into a smirk. “Your obsession for witch and wizard movies. Got it.”

“You’re a jerk,” she snapped. “You had the perfect opportunity to tell me then, but you and your siblings chose to mock me. Right to my face, I might add, without me ever knowing I was the butt of your jokes.”

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