Page 60 of Captivating Magic

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The trip to the past took no longer than an average teleport. According to Castor, they’d arrived three hours earlier than Ebba’s accident. Laszlo desperately wished he could call and tell her to stay home, but fate didn’t work that way. Something else would cause her death if it was meant to happen.

But was it destined? If so, shouldn’t Death’s Reapers have been there to collect the souls? Clutch said one of them failed to do their job, and he was assigned the position. Why had an experienced Reaper failed? Castor’s interference?

Together, they walked the path from the clearing where they’d landed to Alastair’s home. The woods were dense, and mystical energy flowed throughout the forest, cresting over everything from the ground to the tops of the trees.

“Can you see the magic?” he asked Castor, and surprisingly, he didn’t need to elaborate.

“Only as I’m traveling through time. Not once I arrive. Everything returns to normal, and the colors fade.” Castor paused and cocked his head. “I’m assuming you can in this form.”

“Yes. It’s wondrous and humbling to know we are but a spec in this vast world.” He struggled to explain. “My abilities allow me to see the supernatural, and I know magic exists in every living thing. But I’ve never actually viewed it outside a spell or conjuring.” Pointing, he said, “Take that mushroom for example. The fuchsia color is pulsing and absolutely exquisite.”

“Sounds like you’re tripping balls,” Castor replied dryly.

“It does, but I’m not.”

“I know. I’ve witnessed it all in Traveler form.”

“So then you get it.”

Castor nodded. “I do. We don’t have time to stop and smell the roses, though. The longer we’re in this timeline, the greater the chance of fucking things up.”

“Got it.”

“For what it’s worth, Thorne, I’m sorry about your girl and for my part in binding her.”

“If you hadn’t, she’d have died. I’d have gone my entire life without realizing she was my soulmate.” He smiled his thanks. “I’m not sorry you helped her, Castor. I’m grateful.”

As they exited the woods, Lo saw two figures on the terrace. “That’s you and Al.”

“Yep. In about ten seconds, present me will drop like a stone. Alastair’s defenses will go up, and he’ll become untrusting of our motives. Remain calm and radiate honest energy.”

“I’m well aware of how his empathic abilities work.”

“Right. I forgot for a second.” With a heavy sigh, he said, “Showtime.”

On cue, his present-day counterpart’s head listed to one side, and the hand holding a coffee mug dropped to his side, spilling black liquid on the stone.

Alastair reacted as predicted. Throwing up one hand, he created a barrier between them, guarding against the enemy he couldn’t see. Next, he checked Castor’s still form, first pulse,then his pupils, before sniffing what remained of the cup’s contents. He nodded as if assuring himself his friend wasn’t poisoned before scanning the horizon.

His gaze fixed on them, and he gestured them forward.

Alastair frowned. “Laszlo?”

“Hello, Al.” Lo grinned weakly. “We’re from the future.”

Dismissing him, Alastair focused on Castor. “Start explaining, Alex. Why is my cousin a fucking ghost?”

Both Castor and Lo clenched their fists, hoping to stem the plague of locust the vehement curse would bring.

A half smile curled Alastair’s mouth. The wariness fell away, and acceptance shone in his sapphire eyes. “You’re the real deal if you know that about me.”

“I’ve traveled enough times to make this seem normal,” Castor replied with an answering grin. He gestured to Lo with a nod of his blond head. “He’s not dead if that’s what you’re worried about. Dethridge separated his soul from his body, allowing him to hitch a ride with me.”

“Why would you both need to be here? One warning from you wouldn’t suffice?”

“I—”

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