Captivating Magic (The Thorne Witches #14)

Chapter 33

33

“ W ilder?”

The arrival of his brother confused Laszlo. He’d been reclusive since Abbie’s fall, never intentionally seeking out anyone. Yet here he was, hat in hand—literally—and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“What is it?” Ebba asked, expressive face filled with concern.

Lo was positive she avoided asking his brother if he was all right, knowing the answer she’d get would be a resounding no.

“I have a favor to ask you, Ebba,” Wilder said, continuing his embarrassed shuffle. “You can say no, but I hope you’ll consider it.”

“Of course.” She patted Lo’s chest as an indication she wanted down. Once free, she hugged Wilder. “What can I do?”

A fond smile flitted across his too-solemn face, but it never reached his eyes. “You may want to wait until I explain before saying yes,” he warned.

With an impatient wave of her hand, she led him to the kitchen table and shoved the basket of muffins in front of him. “You can tell me over breakfast. Do you still take your coffee black?”

“How does she know how he takes his coffee?” Castor asked in an aside. “Should we be worried your brother’s honing in on our girl?”

“I hate you,” Lo growled, equally as soft.

With a sputtered laugh, Castor returned to the kitchen to fetch a coffee cup and the platter of bacon. After setting it down in front of Wilder, he said, “If you want anything else, you’ll have to conjure it yourself.”

“I’m good. Thanks.”

“If this is family business, I can leave you to it.”

“Actually, I’d like you to stay, Mr. Castor,” Wilder said. “I’m beginning to suspect something else was off about the day our magic went on the blink and could use another perspective.”

They gathered around the table and waited for Wilder to make his request. He relayed the tale of his and Abbie’s climb, pausing now and again to swallow his grief. When he got to the part where the equipment failed, he buried his face in his hands.

Lo, Ebba, and Castor waited him out, letting him finish in his own time.

“With no magic, I couldn’t save her,” Wilder said roughly. “And as Lo knows, we never found her body.” He turned beseeching eyes to Ebba. “It’s been a long time, and it could be a fool’s errand, but will you search in your wolf form?”

“She’s not a fucking rescue dog,” Lo snapped.

Ebba placed a soothing hand on his wrist. “I’ll do it.”

He shook his head. “No way. You have zero climbing experience. How will your wolf manage those mountain passes alone? It’s stupid to try.”

“I’ll be with her,” Wilder assured him. “I’ll rig up slings and extra safety measures. We’ll go when the weather conditions are perfect.”

“You’re risking her life! Wasn’t Abbie’s death enough to tell you that fucking mountain is too dangerous?” Laszlo retorted.

His brother recoiled, and the hopeful light his eyes held was snuffed out. The standard bright amber color was tarnished brown.

Ebba shot up from her chair, an avenging angel with flashing eyes and a fierce growl. It shocked Lo to realize her fury was directed at him .

“Get out!” she snapped.

“What?”

“How fucking insensitive can you be?” She shoved his chest. “I said go! You can come back when you apologize to Wilder for being a dick.”

“Jaysus, I think I love you, Ebba James,” Castor said with a broad, appreciative grin. “Fierce and beautiful, what an intoxicating combinat—I’m shutting up now,” he assured her when she turned her anger on him, adding a mimed lip zip.

Lo shoved back the chair as he rose. “You’re being ridic?—”

“Don’t say it,” Wilder warned under his breath with a kick to the shin. “Trust me, man. You don’t want to go there.”

Ebba crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “No. By all means, Laszlo, say what’s on your mind.”

Both Castor and Wilder frantically shook their heads, panic on their faces. He ignored them to focus on her.

“You want me to tell you I think you’re being ridiculous? Fine. I do.”

“Because I refuse to allow disrespect in my home? Or because I intend to help your brother?”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “The second one.” He splayed his arms wide. “I love you, Ebba. I don’t want to see you risk your life on an unstable mountain. We’ve searched.”

Looking at his brother, he silently urged him to take back the request.

Wilder remained silent, dogged about finding Abigail to the last.

“Come on, man. Don’t make me out to be the bad guy here. Tell her, Wilder. We searched and searched. We scryed. When our magic was restored, Liz and I went up there with you and did everything we could to clear the peaks and weather just to get a better view.” Lo squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “Tell her there was no trace. We found a few deceased climbers, but none were Abbie.”

Wilder shut his eyes and nodded his confirmation.

“Ebba, Sweet, I’d never forbid you to do what you think is best.” Lo was solemn and sincere. “Hell, you’d castrate me if I tried. But the risk is great for no chance at a reward.”

“I dreamed she spoke to me through Ebba,” Wilder croaked.

Castor leaned his elbows on the table and gave them all a considering look. Only he and Laszlo knew it wasn’t a dream. Abbie had reached across the void and communicated through Ebba’s spirit. Surely that meant something, right?

“What are you thinking?” Lo asked Castor.

“I’m intrigued by the mystery, and I’m bored enough to help.” He grinned. “Count me in, Thornes!”

Hope once again filled Wilder’s face, and the emotion was contagious. Laszlo felt the flutter in his chest as he considered the Traveler’s usefulness. He locked eyes with Ebba, but addressed his brother.

“I’m sorry for being a dick, Wilder.”

She uncrossed her arms and raised a brow.

“And I’m sorry for saying you’re being ridiculous, Sweet Ebba,” he added for her. “I’m scared for you.”

Her stance softened, and her lips curled in half smile. “Was that so bad?” she teased.

Holding his index finger and thumb an inch apart, he shrugged.

“I have questions,” Castor said. “The first one is for you, Wilder. Was your girlfriend a witch? If so, why didn’t she teleport?”

“No. Her mother was mortal, and she never knew her father. But she had no powers to speak of.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Lo added. “Anyone near us that day had their powers subdued. Had she been a witch, and she was within touching distance, she couldn’t have teleported.”

“But she fell down a mountain. At some point, she’d have been far enough away to save herself,” Castor countered. He paused, seeming to consider all the information. “Can we talk to her mother? I’d like to get a sense of who Abigail was.” He leaned forward when Wilder frowned. “At the very least, if I’ve ever encountered the mother or your girlfriend, I may be able to travel back to that time. Possibly warn one or both.”

“Do you remember every face you’ve seen?” Ebba asked, eyes wide with wonder.

“Yes. Every interaction, too. It’s a curse.”

“What if we speak to Death?” Lo suggested. “She’s your son’s mother, right? She might be inclined to help us locate Abbie on the other side.”

“She’s not dead!” Wilder snapped. All eyes focused on him. “I’d feel it. Here.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “She’s not dead.”

“May I see her picture?” Castor asked gently.

“Oh, wait! I have one!” Ebba raced to the mantle and returned with a framed photo. “Here.”

Castor looked ill.

“Her mother,” he ground out, expression tightening. “What’s her name?”

“Beth Monroe,” Wilder said, watching him closely. “Why?”

Castor repositioned the frame for them to see. “The blonde is Abigail, I presume.”

Laszlo’s jaw dropped. How had he never realized Castor was an older, male version of Abbie? He glanced at Ebba, who plunked down in her seat and covered her mouth. Their gazes met, then turned to Wilder.

“You guessed?” Lo asked his brother.

“I came here to ask Ebba’s wolf to see what she could find. When he opened the door, I knew,” Wilder said, his attention never wavering from Castor’s grim face. “You and Beth had an affair, didn’t you?”

“I’d have thought the picture was enough evidence for you. You’re asking for a DNA match?”

“What does that mean for her?” Lo asked. “Wouldn’t she have similar abilities to yours?”

“I don’t know. One would think she’d be powerful, but that’s not how magic works. Sometimes it’s diluted. There are those with witch DNA whose powers never develop.” Castor rubbed the back of his neck as he studied the image. “I can’t believe Beth never told me.”

“How could she? Weren’t you in hiding for years?” Ebba asked. She clasped Castor’s free hand, giving it a squeeze.

Lo’s heart swelled in his chest. She was nothing if not kind, and her innate need to comfort those in need was what he loved most about her.

“Yes. I suppose you’re right.” Castor exhaled a heavy sigh. “How old is she? Abbie.”

Wilder sipped his coffee and swallowed hard. “She would be forty-one next week.”

“Older than Quentin,” Castor mused. His lids slammed shut. “Christ! I need to tell my son he had a sister.”

“Has,” Wilder stressed. “Has a sister.”

The Traveler’s ice-blue eyes were filled with regret as he stared back at him. “If she’s alive, I’ll find her, Thorne. Get some rest. We leave tomorrow morning for the mountain.” He stood and hugged Ebba. “You won’t be needed on this trip, love. I’ve got it covered.”