Captivating Magic (The Thorne Witches #14)

Chapter 32

32

“ I can’t let you risk yourself, my dear,” Damian said as Ebba approached.

“I’m not asking,” she said, repeating what she’d said to Lo. “Consider me your protective shield.”

“I don’t allow women to fight my battles.” His tone was firm and his look unrelenting.

“Sexist much? I know you’re old and all but…”

He rolled his eyes, and she grinned.

“Anyway, who said anything about fighting them? I’m here to make sure he stays in line.” With a nod to Spencer, she asked, “I’m assuming we’re not going to have a problem here, right?”

A wry smile curled his lips. “No, Ebba. No problem.”

“My wolf will sense a lie and kick your ass, Spencer. You have to know that up front.”

He nodded.

Inside, Kyrella grunted, and Ebba got the distinct impression the wolf wanted him to pull a fast one. Her disappointment traveled through their link.

“Sorry, Ky.”

“Stay alert,” Kyrella cautioned. “I’ll do the same.”

In the end, the warning wasn’t needed.

Damian removed the protective barrier and booted the circlet across the room to Knox. “Melt that down, please.”

“Gladly.”

After picking up the object, Knox clasped Spring’s hand and teleported away.

“I wanted to see him do that.” Ebba was disappointed he didn’t do it on the spot. She’d have loved to see his magic in action.

“He’ll gladly show you, using another not-so-harmful item, I’m sure.” The laughter in Damian's voice made her smile.

“Sorry. I’m a nerd.”

“You’re adorable, Ebba,” he assured her. Facing Spencer and Clutch, he said, “Reap his soul, Adams, and keep him in a holding area until I can speak to Isis and the Fates. I intend to honor my promise to intervene on his behalf.”

“Thank you, sir,” Spencer said.

“I’m only doing this because I don’t believe you’re a bad man, Barlowe. Don’t prove me wrong in the next life.” With a tight smile, Damian said, “You can’t help who you care about, but as Ms. James said, love is seeing to the other person’s happiness. It isn’t obsession or about harming them in your need to own.”

Spencer swallowed, and his expression was pure misery. “I understand. I’ll do my best.”

“Do better than your best. Aethers live for centuries. I will find you and obliterate your soul should you ever harm another.”

The reaping took seconds, and then Spencer was gone.

“What is something only Laszlo would know?” she asked Clutch.

“Clever,” the Aether murmured.

With a grin, Clutch gestured Lo over. “You got a bright one here, man.”

“Don’t I know it,” Lo said, smiling ear to ear.

“You didn’t answer me, Clutch,” she reminded him.

“Something only he would know… hmm.” Narrowing his eyes, he studied her. A face-splitting grin appeared. “I got it. He once told me you were so sweet, his teeth ached to look at you.”

When she looked up at Laszlo, it was to see him flush. “Really?” she asked, delighted he’d said something so romantic about her.

“That was supposed to be kept between us, you ass.” Lo shoved him, but not hard enough to hurt. “You couldn’t come up with another moment?”

“Meh, she should know you’ve always carried a torch for her.”

“She’s going to think I’m a scumbag because I was married to Charlotte,” Lo countered with a scowl.

“Thornes only truly love once, Laszlo,” Damian said with a laugh. “The fact you were pining for her while trying to stay faithful to another doesn’t make you a bad person. Quite the opposite when the pull is strong between fated mates. Your control was admirable.”

“Is it wrong to admit I like being the subject of your locker-room talk?” Ebba teased.

“Not locker room,” Clutch said, clapping Lo on the back. “We were attempting to reap a serial killer. Your man wanted me to tell you in case he didn’t make it through the mission.”

Her heart thunked in her chest. “Oh!”

“It’s true.” Lo drew her away and tangled a finger in one of her curls.

“That wouldn’t have been fair to Charlotte.”

He shrugged. “Our marriage had already crumbled to dust. It wasn’t going to hurt for you to know I cared.”

“I’m glad we’re here now. It feels like a dream, though.”

“Why’s that?” he asked gently.

“I’d always hoped we’d wind up together. In love.”

“I’m glad, too, ya know.”

Ebba wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her forehead into his chest. “Will you be mad if I leave you to entertain everyone and go to bed? The shifting has taken a toll.”

“Not at all. Go, Sweet. Get rest. I’ll clean all this up.”

She called a thank you to the others and went for a shower. Her need to cleanse the day from her skin and hair was more pressing than the promise of sleep. If she could scrub her soul clean of the worry and sadness she’d experienced, she’d do that, too.

“Thanks for the assist today, Ky.”

Her wolf didn’t answer, but the mutual understanding was there.

Sunlight peeked around the edges of her blackout curtains, and Ebba blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She reached out, but she was alone, and no indentation appeared on the pillow. Clearly, he’d not shared her bed last night. As she lay there, she listened for an indication he might be somewhere else in the apartment.

Nothing.

No one.

“Gone,” Kyrella confirmed.

Reaching through her familiar’s bond with Laszlo, she realized she couldn’t sense him. How close did he have to be for their link to work?

“He’s not on this plane,” her wolf said.

That tidbit of info had her shooting up and dragging jeans over her ass. She didn’t know what the hell it meant for him to be absent from the earthly plane, but it struck her as off.

Whipping open the bedroom door, she stopped short and squinted at the hulking figure sprawled facedown on her sofa. The white-blond hair gave him away.

“Alex?”

He grunted and pulled the lightweight throw blanket higher on his shoulder.

She pressed her fingers to her mouth to stem a giggle. The man looked absolutely ridiculous with his saggy-socked feet sticking past the end of the sofa.

“What are you doing on my couch?” Ebba asked.

“Babysitting,” he muttered as he gave up on comfort and sat up.

“Why didn’t you wake me and take the bed?”

“You looked too peaceful. I almost climbed in, but then I remembered your boyfriend’s threat of castration if I went within an inch of you.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and gave her a lopsided grin. “I’m going to conjure coffee. Want some?”

“I’d love a cup.”

He rose, stretching and displaying the perfectly sculpted muscles of his expansive chest.

Her eyes developed a will of their own and refused to look away. If he called her out, she’d blame Kyrella and her base urge to mate.

“Not cool, Ebba.”

“Sorry, Ky. A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.”

“And that means eye-fucking the Traveler?”

“I’m not ? —”

“Sure, keep lying to yourself,” the wolf scoffed.

“Shut up.”

Kyrella’s silent amusement came through as loud as her voice.

“Where’s Lo?” Ebba blurted, ripping her eyes away as he wrapped the blanket around his hips. With his muscled thighs exposed, it was apparent he wasn’t wearing pants. Her brain was playing the guessing game of boxers or briefs.

Blue eyes dancing, he strutted toward her, laughing when she gulped. “I won’t tell him you find me attractive, but you might want to work on your poker face when he’s around.”

“Shut up and conjure that coffee already,” she ordered, climbing onto the island and bracing her back against the wall.

“You like being up high?”

“I must’ve been a cat in a previous life,” she said, smiling as Kyrella growled.

“How do you want it, love?”

For one heart-stopping moment, she thought he meant sex.

“Mind out of the gutter!” she scolded herself.

“At this point, I’m enjoying the show,” her wolf replied.

“Ebba?”

She shook her head, attempting to focus on Castor. “Sorry.”

“No problem. Sugar? Cream?”

“Just a dash of the vanilla creamer in the fridge, please.”

As if her ghostly self still existed, the refrigerator door opened, and the container floated through the air before settling on the counter beside the mugs.

“Did you do that?” she asked in awe.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m lazy in the mornings. I prefer to conjure breakfast in bed and feed tempting morsels to my partner rather than expend the energy on other, less-interesting tasks.”

As she sipped her coffee, she considered the scenarios for why Castor might sleep over. He’d mentioned babysitting, and she suspected he meant her.

“Where did Laszlo go, and why?”

“To testify at Spencer Barlowe’s tribunal.” Castor held his hand over an empty platter and produced a heaping mound of bacon, cooked to perfection. Not one limp or burnt slice in the batch! Next, he formed a U with his hands, and from the flat of his palms sprung a wicker basket full of steaming muffins. “I hope you like blueberry. If you prefer another kind...”

“Nope. Blueberry is my favorite.”

“He knows because I told him that,” Lo said, appearing from nowhere. “Don’t let him con you.”

Ebba gasped, and her amulet fired up as Kyrella bristled.

“Easy, Ky,” Lo said in a soothing voice. “Sorry to startle you.”

“What the fuck? How did you do that?” Ebba glanced between the guys, noting Castor’s smirk. “That wasn’t a teleport!”

“Actually, I did teleport, but you’d already left the bedroom. I saw you eyeballing the playboy’s chest, so I thought I’d let you have your fun.” Lo laughed and caught the muffin she chucked at his head. “Granny Thorne’s cloaking spell seemed harmless enough.”

“Did you know he was there, Alex?” she demanded.

Castor grinned as he bit into his bacon. “I suspected.”

“ Ass holes.”

“Why do you think I put on the show?” After giving her a mischievous wink, he addressed Lo. “How did the tribunal go?”

“They gave him a pardon for reincarnation. The issue of a future mate was still up in the air when I left.”

“That was fast,” Ebba said.

Lo frowned, and she got an uneasy feeling.

“Uh, how long do you think you slept, Sweet?”

“Six, eight hours, maybe.”

“You were asleep for over twenty hours, love,” Castor said gently. “Laszlo got worried and called Damian, but he said you needed the rest.”

Dropping a kiss on her temple, Lo snatched a handful of bacon from the platter. “He said eventually it would even out, but extended activity this close to Kyrella’s takeover may require longer recovery periods.”

“Since Laszlo was required at the trial for Barlowe, he asked me to watch over you.”

“It felt like leaving a fox in charge of the henhouse, but Liz and Rafe were off on an anniversary trip,” Lo added, shooting a wry glance Castor’s way. “When I asked Al, he assured me the fox could be trusted.”

“And I was a fucking Boy Scout. Your girl was undressing me with her eyes, though.”

“I saw that.” Lo laughed when she glared. “She’s sex-starved. I’ll have to do something about that.”

Ebba’s face flamed. “I hate you both.”

“Nah. Not even a little.” He scooped her up in his arms. “Grab that basket of muffins.” As he headed for the bedroom, he called over his shoulder, “Thanks for watching over her, Castor. Now don’t let the door hit you in the ass!”

Before they reached their destination, pounding alerted them to a visitor.

“Dammit!” Lo glanced at her. “Do we ignore it?”

“It sounds urgent?—”

Castor’s voice boomed a greeting from the hallway.

“I have a like-hate relationship with that man,” Lo muttered as he spun and returned to the main room.

Ebba bit her lip to hold in her laughter. “He probably answered to thwart your plans.”

“Hence the hate.”