Page 11 of Captivating Magic

For the longest moment, he held her, and all felt right with her world. As if she was experiencing a sense of wellness and a homecoming of sorts. And because the feeling was so foreign from anything she’d known, she drew away, giving him a tight smile but not meeting his eyes.

“We should go,” she said in a low voice.

He simply nodded and guided her toward the door.

When they were all comfortable,Laszlo launched into the tale of two spirits and how potential splits happened. In Ebba’s case, he surmised a near-death experience.

Castor initially showed disbelief, then transitioned to fascination, while Alastair expressed deep concern for Ebba. As an empath, his cousin tended to feel things stronger than most, though it wasn’t well-known. His badass reputation kept people at a distance, fearful of his darker side. And rightfully so. As the Thorne Patriarch and favorite of the Goddess, he possessed untold gifts. Lo doubted if their family knew the full extent of the man’s abilities. Other, more powerful beings existed, but they gave Al the respect he was due, mainly because he was as crafty as they came. If a clever plan was required, one need only call Alastair.

But if his cousin was worried about Ebba, it was likely she was suppressing signs of her anxiety, and he was picking up on it. Perhaps she was unconvinced or in denial. Eventually, however, she’d need to get on board with his plan to fuse her fractured soul and body back together.

“Is it possible to have the soul split off completely?” Castor asked, for once not over the top with his abundant sexuality.

“The journals I’ve read would indicate yes, but it would leave an uncaring, ruthless individual in its place. I’m not convinced it happens that way,” Lo replied. When his answer created a trio of frowning faces, he continued. “The body needs the spark of a spirit to live. If the soul leaves the body, nothing remains but a husk.”

“But wouldn’t that relate to what you’ve read? Isn’t the personality shift the same thing?” Ebba asked.

Lo considered the question, then shrugged. “Technically, I suppose so. If one’s body were healthy enough, they could survive without a soul. I’m inclined to believe you need both, though.”

“Actually, I’ve dealt with split souls in the past. I can assure you, when that happens, the physical body does indeed house an uncaring and ruthless individual, as Laszlo suggested,” Alastair said, climbing to his feet to cross to the kitchen. With a backward glance and half smile for Ebba, he nodded to the coffeemaker. “Do you mind?”

“Oh! No! Not at all.” When she would’ve jumped up, Laszlo placed a restraining hand on her thigh. “Wait for it.”

It took less than a minute for Alastair to place four mugs on a tray and conjure the coffee to fill them. Lo laughed at her astonished expression as a bottle of aged Glenfiddich appeared in the center of the tray.

She shifted wide eyes to him. “Can you do that, too?”

“Yes.”

Next, she turned her wondrous gaze on Castor. “And you?”

His smile was pure wicked delight. “Would you like me to show you what I can do, dear Ebba?”

“Ye—”

“No, she would not!” Lo stated succinctly, dropping an arm across her shoulders. The probability was high that he’d just reacted as Castor intended he should, but he’d be damned if theman didn’t get under his skin with his model good looks and jackal-like grin. Though, if Laszlo was inclined to be generous, he might say it was wolfish or devilish. Yet he wasn’t so inclined and was one hundred percent prepared to view his new rival in an unfavorable light.

Satisfaction shone in Castor’s eyes as he watched them, and Lo was left to wonder if the man was trying to manipulate the situation in some unexpected way. If so, why? Was his intent to have Lo lay claim to Ebba? The man hadn’t met either of them before that day, so what was in it for him?

Yet as Ebba watched Castor, a frown drawing her brows together on her lovely visage, she appeared confused. Was it possible she was on the same wavelength and recognized the oddity of Castor’s behavior? Later, when they were alone, he’d ask her.

He looked at Ebba’s detached spirit lingering atop the kitchen island. Her hands gripped the counter on either side of her hips, and she swung her dangling legs as if bored. When she noticed his attention on her, she nodded toward Castor.

“He was there that day.”

“What?”

His emphatic shout, seemingly from nowhere, startled the returning Alastair enough to have mugs and decanter clinking as he steadied the tray.

“Jaysus, boy! You almost gave the old man a heart attack,” Castor chortled. “I thought I’d never see the day.”

“Stuff it, Alex,” Al growled, dividing his displeasure between Castor and Lo equally. “What was so all-fired important you needed to shout, son?”

Ignoring him to glare at Castor, Laszlo surged to his feet. “Why didn’t you tell us you were there when Ebba had her accident?”

5

Laszlo’s truth bomb caused shock, or something like it, to arrest the expressions of those around him.

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