Page 31 of Captivating Magic

Ebba stood and brushed off the seat of her pants. Lo suspected it was out of habit since there was no physical dirt clinging to her ghostly form. “I believe you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, Mr. Thorne.”

“Shh. Don’t let word spread. Others will expect things I’m not willing to provide.”

“I’ll take Ebba home.” Laszlo climbed to his feet with all the enthusiasm of a man heading to the gallows. His work hadn’t begun, but when it did, things would get rough. “The first order of business is to eject Dipshit Spencer, the rotten pig-fucker. Will you call me if you figure out how a familiar comes into this, Al?”

“Of course. There’s one other source I intend to speak to, but I’ll be along shortly to work through this problem.”

“Thank you.”

12

Lo whisked Ebba home at a mind-boggling speed. When they arrived, she felt out of breath, although she had no physical form for her reaction to be legit. Perhaps it was everything she’d witnessed Laszlo and his family do in the last twenty-four hours, but she never wanted to return to living in the dark about the supernatural.

“I could get used to traveling this way,” she said with a laugh. “No airports or long TSA lines. No delays or lost luggage.”

“No atmospheric disturbances to prevent a flight from taking off,” Liz added with a grin.

“Wait! You can hear me?” With excitement bubbling up, Ebba rushed across the room to join her.

“I can see you, too, but there’s a translucent quality to your skin and a pale yellow aura around you.”

“Do you suppose it’s leftover from the spell you cast in the clearing, Lo?” she asked him.

“Probably.” He shrugged, and a part of him seemed distant as if their time with Isis had hardened his heart and resolve. “We should take advantage of Liz’s ability to see you and have the tough conversations.”

“Are you okay?”

“No, Ebba, I’m not. And neither are you. Neither will Liz be when this is over if we can’t find a way to save you. So how about we do away with all the touchy-feely crap and get to work?”

Recoiling from his building rage, she shared a concerned glance with Liz. Never had Ebba been subjected to his fury in the past, and if asked, she’d have said he was slow to anger.

Liz sprung to her feet and wrapped her arms around his middle the way Ebba had been dying to all her life.

“It’s okay, brother-mine. Nothing is going to happen to her,” Liz assured him.

“It already has,” he snapped, though he embraced her back. “Death showed up looking for her while we were at Clutch’s. We have less than forty-eight hours to resolve this situation, or Ebba takes a one-way trip to purgatory. She’ll be forced to stay there until the Fates decide where her soul is to go.”

“Sounds ominous,” Ebba muttered.

Humor lit his amber eyes. “I thought you were the serious one of us, Sweet. When did you become the wise-ass?”

“Floating around the ether, waiting for people to notice your body is housing someone else, will do that to you.” She gestured to the bedroom with her thumb. “How do we get rid of that… what did you call him? Pig-fucker?”

Liz choked, likely on her spit. When she finally had her coughing under control, she wiped her eyes and shook her head. “Next time, warn a girl when pig-fucker is coming.”

Ebba grinned.

“I want to take a closer look at Clutch’s spell,” Lo said, heading to Ebba’s fridge. After perusing its contents, he withdrew two beers and the makings for a sandwich. He offered one to Liz and then began constructing a hoagie. “He wouldn’t have ripped a page from his grimoire if he didn’t believe it had value. The voodoo doll is generic and hasn’t been used beforefrom what I can tell. There’s no residual energy signature, so I can only assume it was recently created from clay.”

Ebba nodded. “I watched a show once where the main character shrunk a person and turned them into a clay figurine. They fired the doll in a kiln after leaving it to dry out. Maybe we can do that?”

Both of her friends stared at her like she was the Cerberus that Alastair had assured her was real.

“No? Not something witches can do?”

“You’re twisted,” Lo said with wonder.

Her stomach turned to a ball of lead, and she hated he saw her as a mental case. Sure, she might be, but?—

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