“It will suspend her death,” she said in an aside to Ebba. “All will be well, child.”
“Will it go to heaven or wherever souls go?” she asked, struggling against tears.
“I’ve another plan. Forbothof you.” With a pat on Ebba’s cheek, she drifted back up the hill. Once at the top, she tilted her head back and spread her arms wide.
“Aether!”
The air around them crackled, and the invisible dome lit up, highlighting its honeycomb design an instant before dissolving into millions of sparkling lights. A golden fissure appeared beside the Goddess, and a black-haired man stepped through the veil. Behind him, Ebba caught a glimpse of a country estate with a house older than America.
The man was divine, perfect in every way, and it was a wonder any one person could be so beautiful. His eyes, nearly as black as his hair, summed up the scene in a single glance.
Bowing his head, he said, “Exalted One.”
His voice was deep, smooth, and seductive, a symphony to the ears. He had the barest hint of a British accent, and Ebba could’ve listened to him speak all day.
“The man in the vehicle is Spencer Barlowe, and he’s been ungovernable,” Isis said.
Laszlo’s physical self approached Ebba, ignoring the byplay between the Goddess and the beautiful man she’d called Aether.
“I got the call too late,” he said achingly. “But I’ll fix this.”
Ebba frowned, turning to seek out his spirit self, only to find him fading.
“What’s happening?” she cried.
“He cannot exist in two places without causing a ripple effect,” the Aether said, and with a wave of his hand, he sent Spirit Laszlo away.
24
Ebba cried out, but it was too late.
The single understanding glance from the Aether and Isis did nothing to ease her fear for Laszlo.
“What happened to him?” she demanded, immediately forgetting their “disrespect” conversation. “Is he okay?”
“He was sent back to his time,” the Goddess replied with remarkable calm. “Trust the process, child.”
Laszlo’s warm hand brushed hers and traveled through, creating a chill where he attempted to touch her. Frustration contorted his features before he pasted on a brave expression. “I’m here, Ebba. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“You can’t promise that, and you shouldn’t,” the dark-haired man said, not unkindly.
“She’s a family friend, Dethridge,” Laszlo argued.
An amused smile curled the other man’s lips, and Ebba became transfixed by his beautiful mouth.
“I’m well aware of who she is, Thorne, and what she will become to you.”
“What? What will I become?” Ebba’s mind was spinning faster than ingredients in a mixing bowl. “And what’s with this supposed time-travel shit?”
His amused smile turned to an engaging grin, and the Aether thoroughly hypnotized her with that single action. All she wanted to do was stare at him until her dying day.
“If I’m not mistaken, itisyour dying day.” A devilish twinkle entered his obsidian eyes. “But I’m here to correct that.”
His words had the impact of a bucketful of water over her head, and she jerked back from the reality dousing.
“You read my mind?” she croaked.
“Normally I wouldn’t intrude on another’s thoughts unless I had an inkling they intended harm to me or mine, but you transmit louder than most.”