Page 54 of Captivating Magic

“You always were stubborn,” Clutch muttered. “Aether, please talk sense into him. He’ll bring Death’s wrath if he keeps this up.”

Damian smiled. “I’m inclined to side with Laszlo. Had you been upfront and presented your case in a reasonable manner, this conversation may have gone your way. Likely not, as I’m a sucker for love, but there was a slim chance.”

Clutch glanced down at Ebba held in Wilder’s arms, and Laszlo stepped between them and his ex-friend.

“Don’t even think about it,” he snarled.

“Lo.”

“I will kill you where you stand.”

With a shake of his head, Clutch teleported away.

“Now we know why the globe lit up,” Castor said.

Alastair placed a calming hand on Lo’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. We’re still within Death’s window.”

Wilder stood with Ebba draped over his arms. “When this is over, I’m going to need a rundown of what the fuck is going on.”

20

Was she dreaming?

Ebba wasn’t sure anymore. Her conscious self floated along a mist halfway between the Wild West and the present. She cast a look the way she’d come, but no one remained in her living room.

Where had everyone gone?

A chill gripped her, and she rubbed her arms for warmth. Squinting at the town’s wooden buildings, she tried to make out the name of what appeared to be a saloon.

Abbie drifted closer, wearing filthy clothes, ripped in various places. Her long ash-blonde hair was a tangled mess, and she shook her head with disbelief on her face.

“I know you,” she said in a dazed wonder. “I don’t know how, but I do.”

“Yes.” Ebba attempted to touch her, to offer comfort, but neither was corporeal. “How did you get here?”

Gaze wide with anxiety, Abbie shook her head, tears shimmering in her pale blue eyes, and Ebba’s stomach clenched in response.

“Do you know who you are?”

“No,” she replied with a choked sob.

Ebba felt genuine fear. Were they in purgatory? Did memories fade here? The thought was crushing. What must it be like to wander aimlessly for months or years with no sense of self?

“Your name is?—”

The woman latched onto her wrist, and a shock wave rippled through Ebba’s system, causing her to black out. When she awoke, she was back in her apartment, cradled in Wilder’s arms as he stalked across the living room to the couch.

“What the fuck?” she whispered.

“You went all exorcist, mumbled some shit, and passed out,” he told her.

“What did I say?”

Stark anguish transformed his face from grim to tragic. “It doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly.

“Wilder, please tell me.”

He set her down on the sofa and squatted in front of her. With a heavy sigh, he ran a hand through his hair. “Ebba, hon, it doesn’t matter. Really.”

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