Page 82 of Captivating Magic

“Holyfuckingshit!”

“Clutch?” Heart pounding, Laszlo stroked Kyrella’s neck until her hackles lowered. “It’s all right, girl. Promise.”

Kyrella or Ebba, whichever was in charge, believed the opposite and growled low in her throat.

Trusting their instinct, he eyed his friend. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk. Death wants you back.”

“Death can go fuck herself.”

“Careful, Lo. She’s more powerful than you imagine.”

“I’m a fucking warlock who helps reap the dead and has a werewolf for a familiar, Clutch. I’m able to imagine a helluva lot.”

Kyrella leaned into his side, and Laszlo experienced a power punch along with a sharpening of his vision. Darkness formed around Clutch, and underneath his skin, something shifted, similar to Spencer’s possession of Ebba.

“Can you do something about your wolf, man? And did anyone check it for rabies before they merged the bodies?” His friend’s eyes watched Kyrella with something akin to malice.

“Yeah, sure thing. Wait here.”

Flattening his hand over the deadbolt, Lo envisioned the tumbler shifting to unlock. Once he opened the door, he gestured Kyrella to follow.

“Give me one sec to secure her, Clutch.”

Once inside, he pointed toward the bedroom. Needing no verbal communication, she bound away. He quickly conjured rock salt and, drawing his elemental magic to him, used the airto lift the salt, creating a protective circle on the ceiling. Satisfied it remained unbroken, he waved his hand and placed the candles in the shape of a pentagram in strategic places within the circle. One on top of the counter, one on the foyer table, and three more where they looked inconspicuous. At first glance, they would appear like ambiance.

“Contineo.”

Satisfied the containment spell would work, he opened the door.

“Come on in.” Walking only far enough to keep Clutch beneath the circle, he stopped and turned around. “Can I make you a cup of coffee or offer you a beer?”

He had no idea if Ebba kept any in the fridge, but he assumed she did since they drank the same brand.

“I’m good.”

“What did you wish to discuss?” Lo asked, tucking his hands in his back pockets in a casual pose. The move exposed his chest to attack, but nothing would pass the circle he’d created. Whatever magic Clutch threw at him would be held within the walls of the invisible cage.

“Ebba. More importantly, your relationship with her.”

Lo’s brows shot up. “Can’t see where that’s any of your business.”

“You’ve made it my business by jumping back in time to mess up the timeline.”

“Your job is to assist Death. Or that’s my understanding, at least. Where she directs you to go, you go. It has nothing to do with what went down.”

Frustration flared on Clutch’s face, and his eyes narrowed. “Like I said, Death wants you back. She’s not happy with the way things turned out and needs you to return to your Reaper status.”

Laszlo was never a full Reaper, and whoever was possessing his friend had just made a fatal mistake. “Who are you, really, and where’s Clutch?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” fake-Clutch said. “You’ve known me forever, man.”

“Right. So tell me. How did we meet?”

Face savage, fake-Clutch charged. When he slammed into the invisible wall holding him, he turned into the rabid beast he suggested Kyrella might be.

Ebba stepped from the room and approached. Tilting her head and narrowing her eyes, she said, “It’s Spencer.”

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