Page 33 of Captivating Magic

“I’m the one you’re leaving behind!”

They stared at each other.Shock sent their jaws plunging toward their chests. Laszlo was the first to recover and tapped her mouth closed. His confession was in order.

“You’re my friend,” he said simply. “But more importantly, you’re someone I’ve come to realize I want to know better. In every sense of the word. How can I do that if you cross over?”

“There will be other women, Lo.” Her look bordered exasperated. “Liz could make you a list of women she knows who are willing to leave their significant others forever just for a single hour in your bed.”

He scoffed.

“Dude. You are so clueless.” She shook her head. “Why do you think Charlotte threw hate rays at every female who had the audacity to glance your way?”

“She was a jealous shrew.”

“With good reason. Have you taken a gander at the mirror recently?”

Heat crept up his neck. “You’re making me uncomfortable, Ebba.”

She had the nerve to laugh, and Lo wanted to kiss away her sass. Goddess, did he! Shooting a glance at his sister and brother-in-law, he shoved away his desire with an internal lecture on the impropriety of lusting after a ghost with others present.

“I don’t care about any of those women,” he said gruffly. “I care about you. About this.”

“The accident wasn’t your fault. Spencer possessing my body wasn’t your fault. Death demanding our runaway souls is not your fault, either.” She hammered home every point in a calm, collected way. Though Lo recognized the wisdom of her words, a part of him would never get over being unable to save her, and he didn’t know how to convey it to her. It wasn’t love, he assured himself. It was guilt for being a useless fucker.

Their silent stare-off ended when his phone rang.

Clutch.

Laszlo rushed to answer. “Hey, man. Were you able to soften her up?”

His friend laughed. “She’s not that easily swayed. Have you attempted the spell yet?”

“No. We paid a visit to Isis in the hopes she’d intervene.”

“Will she?”

Despair settled over him, and Laszlo gave Clutch the unvarnished truth. “No.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

“For what it’s worth, Lo, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, man.” A sigh escaped from his tired soul. “Want to join us to capture Pig-fucker Spencer inside your clay doll?”

“I’d love to, man, but Death is beckoning.”

“Not cool.”

“No, but funny.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

But before he could, Clutch said his name. “It doesn’t state it in the spell, but when you tie Ebba’s body to the bed, use black bindings. Silk or satin might burn less when she writhes to get away.”

“Stop it, you’re turning me on.”

“Shut up. You know what this is for. Also, the clay form should be pressed face down into the bare skin of her chest. The point is to leave no room for escape.”

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