Page 42 of Captivating Magic

“I’ve always thought so. But I’d also ask what you’re doing up this late and say things like, ‘Shouldn’t you be in bed, young lady?’”

Laughing, she patted his cheek. “No, you wouldn’t. Like Papa, you’d fix your kid a bowl of ice cream.”

“Only if my wife wasn’t looking.”

“Miss Ebba would want a bowl, too.”

The mental picture of Ebba and him sharing dessert with their mischievous daughter caused his heart to contract.

“She’d have made a great mom,” he agreed roughly. Clearing his throat, Lo rose and held out a hand to Sabrina. “Let’s see what they’ve come up with to help her.”

“I’m sorry you’re sad.”

“It’s the situation.”

She slid her hand into his and tugged him toward the others. Other than to cast them a quick, curious look, Damian didn’t comment on Lo being led around by a ten-year-old child. He acted as if his daughter taking charge of the room was an everyday occurrence, and maybe it was, but for Lo, the entire episode was strange.

“I think we should tell him, Papa,” Sabrina said.

“It’s forbidden.”

“I have the right to know if it involves Ebba or me, Dethridge.” Frustration was building inside him, and he clenched his jaw against the need to spill expletives. Had a childnot been present, he’d have given in and swore not only a blue streak but red, green, purple, and black ones, too.

“I agree. You do. However, I won’t put my daughter at risk because of your entitlement. Yes, she is destined to be the Oracle, but not for years to come. How she decides to use her powers when she’s taken up the mantle is her choice, but until then, I’ll protect her as best I can.” Damian stood. “Wouldn’t you do the same, Laszlo? Wouldn’t you go to any length to protect those you love?”

There was a deeper meaning behind the question. A test of sorts. One Lo couldn’t fail, or he’d risk losing Ebba forever.

“I would and will,” he said, acknowledging, if only to himself, how much he cared for her.

Satisfaction flared in the other man’s eyes, and Damian’s lips curled, emphasizing his emotion. With a decisive nod, he gestured to the couch. “Have a seat. We must strategize.”

Laszlo frowned. “I thought that’s what you were doing already.”

“In a sense. But you’re an essential part of this equation.” Damian cupped Sabrina’s cheek. “Please return home to your mother, my love. She’ll be worried sick if she wakes to find us both gone.”

“But, Papa—” When she understood her wheedling would do no good, she crossed her arms and jutted her chin. “I’m needed here.”

“Beastie,” he growled.

His irritation gave weight to the room’s atmosphere, and taking a deep breath was difficult. Their clash of wills created literal sparks in the air around them. Neither noticed, but Lo, Alastair, and Castor did.

“What the actual fuck?” he whispered to Al. “Is this normal? It’s like I’m experiencing altitude sickness.”

“I’m afraid it is,” Castor replied. He jumped to his feet, scooped up Sabrina, and tossed her across his shoulder like a potato sack. “I’ll see she gets home or, at the very least, in the care of her Guardian. Fix my mistake, or devise a foolproof way for me to.”

His eerie, light eyes locked with Lo’s. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“I get the impression it’s not a word you’re familiar with,” he replied, not unkindly.

“I rarely do things I need to apologize for. But in this”—Castor shrugged his free shoulder—“I believed I was doing the right thing for her. If I need to go back in time to fix it?—”

Sabrina grunted behind his back. “That’s what I was trying to say, but you wouldn’t listen!”

Damian sighed heavily. “When will I learn?” With a finger swirl, he indicated for Castor to set her down. “Tell us the next step, and get to bed, Beastie.”

Her superiority was unnerving. “Uncle Alex has to go back, but Laszlo has to go, too.”

Castor’s brows slammed together, and he shook his head. “I’ve never traveled with another. Other than to teleport, I’m not sure I can. Taking him back to a place where he didn’t exist is impossible.”

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