“Certainly. Your recent emotional responses, the anger on my daughter’s behalf, the lustful thoughts?—”
Lo swore. “Him, too? Is there anyone you haven’t drooled over today?”
She glared. “Really? You’re going to rat me out like that?”
“—Andyour justified irritation with Laszlo are all unique for your current state,” Damian continued after casting an amused glance his way.
“Unique in what way? Spirits don’t feel anything?” Ebba faced Lo. “You’re the resident expert. What have you encountered in the past?”
“I can’t believe I missed it, but Damian’s right. The only thing you should be feeling this close to the transition is peace.” Laszlo’s eyes widened, and he looked as if he’d taken a blow to the head. “How is this possible?”
Damian’s smile was confident. “That’s what I’m here to find out.”
16
Ebba chose not to receive an energy boost, preferring to rest and revitalize in her own time, and Laszlo was loath to see her go. If their hours were limited, he wanted to spend as many with her as possible.
And theywerelimited.
Never once in the years since he’d been helping as a liaison between the living and dead had he known a spiritnotto head into the afterlife. Unless his family and friends came up with something before Death’s deadline, Ebba would, too.
Off to the side, feeling he had nothing to contribute, Lo observed the others as they discussed the situation. He felt a tug on his sleeve and glanced down.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Laszlo.” Like her father, Sabrina Dethridge carried a wealth of knowledge behind her solemn obsidian eyes. How did one as young as she deal with all the ugliness that came with her visions?
“I’m trying not to, Miss Beastie.”
A small smile curled her lips. “I like Miss Beastie. My Guardian calls me Wee Beastie.”
“I can see where that would be appropriate,” Lo agreed dryly. Indeed, she was pint-sized for her age, standing no taller than his waist.
He curbed the urge to run a hand down her silky black tresses, along with the longing for a daughter of his own. Charlotte had never wanted kids, and in one of his many attempts to make her happy, he’d agreed. At forty-two, he wasn’t too old, but he’d hate it if his particular gift were passed to a child of his.
With a sage nod, Sabrina turned to watch the three lifelong friends. “They always find a way,” she said. “It’s why the Goddess brought them together.”
“Alastair and your dad are distant cousins. It was bound to happen.”
She giggled. “Yes, but Uncle Alex came later. He makes them laugh.”
“As I expect do you.”
“Can I tell you a secret? You have to promise not to tell my papa.”
“I can’t promise if I don’t know what it is. I’ll not agree to something that could place you in harm’s way, Miss Beastie.”
“No, it won’t. It’s about Ebba. She?—”
“Sabrina Dethridge, not another word!” Damian commanded from across the room.
“Mama says he has eyes in the back of his head, and I believe it,” she muttered in disgust.
Lo laughed, unable to hold it in. Her disgruntled expression was priceless. “It’s better if you let this play out like it’s supposed to,” he said, squatting to peer at her too-serious face. “I heard what you and your dad said about the Fates, and I’d rather not know than place you in danger.”
“I was just going to give you a little nudge in the right direction.” She cast a side glance at her stern father. “Mama said that’s allowed sometimes.”
“I think she probably meant for immediate family. But if it comes down to the wire and it looks like I’m screwing things up royally, I permit you to issue a course correction. How’s that?”
She grinned and sandwiched his face between her tiny hands. “You would make a great papa, Mr. Laszlo.”