Chapter 17

17

T wo hours later, Lo was so damned mad he could drive nails into boards with his bare fists. Ebba’s stubbornness was making him insane.

“You have to talk to me sometime,” he told her.

Her brows shot up, but she remained mute.

“This is childish.” The instant the words left his mouth, he wanted to recall them. Her spiked brows dipped low over narrowed eyes, and she flipped him off. Somewhere behind him, Castor chuckled, and Lo shoved his hands in his pockets to curb the temptation to pass the bird along.

The Aether left for the length of time it took to put his daughter to bed, secure a second Guardian to protect his family in his absence, and return to Ebba’s. After his arrival, Damian gave her a much-needed energy boost, helping her to become solid once more.

Him , she spoke to.

“Will I know when things have changed, or will I simply cease to exist?” she asked.

“You aren’t dying, Ebba,” Lo snapped. “I forbid it!”

Everyone’s attention turned to him.

He grew warm under the men’s laughing looks, but he concentrated on her. “I’m sorry, Sweet. Whenever people say you are, it triggers me.”

“The only thing keeping my body alive is Spencer,” she replied coolly. “I’m already dead, Lo. Face the facts.”

“You haven’t transitioned, and you’re not going to, goddammit!”

His magic, fueled by fear and anger, shoved open the window sashes and brought gale-force winds into the room. Vases and books rocked. Curtains billowed. And pillows rolled along the floor like tumbleweeds.

She turned in a slow circle, taking in the destruction. Wide-eyed, she crossed to him. “Stop, or I’ll have nothing left.”

“What does it matter?” He stood nose to nose with her. “You’re so fucking eager to move on. What does it matter what happens to your material goods?”

“My parents or Liz might want keepsakes,” she retorted, but tears shimmered in her chocolaty eyes, making them appear larger and more tragic than ever.

With a weary sigh, he shoved his power back into its box and pressed his forehead to hers. Infusing his agony into his voice, he said, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she replied in a soft voice.

“It’s not. I was an ass.”

She smiled up at him, and he ceased to breathe. “Maybe a tiny bit of one, but you’re cute, so I’ll let it slide.”

“Can we talk?”

“I thought we were.”

“Funny.” He led the way to the kitchen. When they were isolated from the others, he explained what he’d failed to earlier. “The Aether is correct. I’m a Reaper’s assistant, and not by choice.”

He took her raised brows and curious look as encouragement to continue. “I discovered I could see and speak to the spirits when I turned fourteen. Mom reminded me I had invisible friends as a child, which makes it probable I’ve always had the gift but didn’t understand how to use it, or I subconsciously suppressed it until I got older.”

“How did you learn what it was?”

“Hiking along the train tracks behind our home, I encountered one too many people dressed in period clothing. I thought my brothers were punking me at first.”

She grinned. “I can see that. Wilder, Health, and Coleman were gremlins.”

“Were? Still are!” he scoffed. “Death visited on occasion, explaining what came with my gifts, but I ignored her. Clutch was another matter altogether.”

“He taught you to be a Reaper’s assistant?”

“Yes. He showed me how it eased the fear of the unknown and provided a smoother transition for the living and the dead. When people believe they are speaking to their loved ones through a medium, they experience peace. And on the flip side of that, when the deceased feels the person left behind has grasped some measure of comfort, they go without regret.”

“But they always go,” she said softly.

“They do.”

“And I will, too.”

“No.” He shook his head. “No, Ebba. I won’t allow it.”

“Laszlo.”

“Don’t give me that it’s-all-for-the-best tone. Your place is here. With me.” His throat was raw and aching with unvoiced emotion. “Say you understand.”

“Our moment has passed, if it ever existed at all.” She caressed his jaw. “You need to know I’ll be okay on the other side, whatever comes. You’ve eased this transition for me.”

“We haven’t put our plan into action. There’s still a chance.”

Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “When Castor returns and unbinds my soul, Death will be waiting. We both know it.”

“I’ll negotiate. I’ll?—”

She kissed him silent. Drawing back, she smiled, and the love shining in her eyes branded his soul.

“No.”

In his distraction, he didn’t at first register what she’d said. Once it sunk in, he slammed his palms on the counter. “Don’t do this. Don’t fight me, Ebba. I need you to fight for me. For us . It’s the only way this works.”

“What works? What part of the plan haven’t you told me?”

“There is nothing we haven’t told you,” he snapped. Reining in his pique, he said, “Castor is to go back to his previous self to explain the situation. I intend for my spirit to hitch a ride.”

“What?” she screeched.

“I—”

“I fucking heard you the first time. I just can’t believe you’re that stupid.”

“I’m trying to show you I love you, and you’re saying I’m stupid?” he asked, incredulous and with building irritation. “Seriously?”

“You’re leaving your body open to have the same thing happen to you that Spencer did to me. No fucking way am I letting someone hijack your body.”

“I’ll have Clutch and Alastair stand watch.”

“What good will that do? Alastair can’t see spirits,” she retorted.

“Clutch can. If he sees one, Alastair whisks it away. Easy-peasy.”

“In the whole history of the term ‘easy-peasy,’ never has anything been truly easy,” Ebba said sourly.

He grinned. “It will be this time.”

“Bullsh—”

Cutting her off with a hard peck, he followed it with a lovebite. “You didn’t react to my declaration of love.”

“Meh. I think it’s because you secretly looked at my naked chest earlier. My girls are always love at first sight for boob men.”

Laughing, he drew out the top of her V-neck and glanced down. “I did my best not to peek, but your girls are beautiful.”

“Thank you. Both for properly appreciating my C cups and for loving me.”

“You’re an easy woman to love, Sweet Ebba James.”

“How do you always know the perfect thing to say?”

“Let’s go.” He flung an arm over her shoulders. “I have to save the girl.”

Ebba refused to entertain the notion of surviving. “Not to be a Patty Pessimist, but what about Spencer? Is he willingly going to move along?”

“First, we have to remove him from your body,” Damian said. “That’s trickier than expected.”

Lo’s head whipped up from the spell he’d been memorizing. “How and why?”

“We’ll need to remove all trace of him from Ebba’s body, memories included, or she could experience an echo of this timeline if she returns.”

“When,” Lo ground out. “When she returns.”

Damian nodded dutifully. “When.”

“Memories? You can do that?” she asked him, not caring for how it sounded. Did that mean she’d recall none of this at all? What about Laszlo’s confession of love? The sweetness of the moment shouldn’t be lost.

“I can, and it is necessary, Ms. James. I’m sorry.”

“Call me Ebba,” she replied with an absent wave. “What is tricky about the memory removal? I’m assuming that’s the worrisome part since Lo hasn’t seemed all that concerned about ejecting Spencer.”

“I was and still am concerned,” Laszlo protested. “My concerned face obviously needs work.”

She cracked a smile but remained focused on Damian, who obliged her by answering her question.

“Memories aren’t stored in one particular area of the brain. There are multiple, all working together. The hippocampus, neocortex, and amygdala store explicit information, while implicit memories depend on the basal ganglia and cerebellum. The prefrontal cortex is used for short-term storage,” he explained. “I’ll need to go into the temporal lobe and access the hippocampus to remove episodic memories. These are what you’d consider specific and long-term. It’s tricky in how these all exchange information.”

“Did we need the science lesson?” Castor asked, rising from the couch to cross to the liquor cabinet.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to learn how that block you call a brain works,” Lo said.

“Hardy har har. You’re hilarious.” Castor’s tone was anything but amused.

Damian carried on as if the others weren’t behaving like bratty children, and Ebba admired his calm.

“For example, the amygdala stores emotional memories. How something made us feel. The stronger the emotion, the harder it is to forget.” He cast a significant glance between her and Laszlo. “Whatever you’re experiencing together could result in a lasting impression.”

“You’d have to remove my feelings for Lo?”

It seemed inconceivable that he could. She’d loved Laszlo Thorne for what felt like forever.

“Those are woven into my entire life,” she confessed.

Expression soft, Damian shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Ebba, and I imagine the damage would be significant should I try. No, I’m suggesting eliminating all your memories since the accident. From the moment Spencer wormed his way in onward. One insidious thought left behind can cause eventual madness.”

“This sounds more dangerous by the minute.” Lo sat straighter and gripped Ebba’s hand. “If it isn’t safe for her, it’s not happening. I’ll find another way to save her.”

“There isn’t one.” The Aether’s intent look tried to relay the truth. “Earlier, my daughter gave us the solution. For as young as she is, she’s still able to view and weigh every possible outcome. If she said Ebba’s survival depends on you and Castor going back in time to five months ago, then that’s what it will take.”

“You really think I’ll survive this?” Ebba asked, afraid to hope.

“There’s a twenty percent chance of failure, according to my calculations. Less if you ask Beastie. But yes, I do.”

Ebba shared a concerned glance with Laszlo. “I’m worried about you more than anything. Should this go wrong?—”

“We’ve got this, Sweet. Trust the magical process.”

His smile was both a comfort and a bittersweet blow to her heart. Losing what they’d shared would be devastating.

Maintaining eye contact with Lo, she turned her head enough to ask, “Will you need to remove Lo’s memories of this time, too? Won’t the echo affect him?”

“That’s going to be trickier. He’ll need them when he returns,” the Aether said.

“Why?”

Lo answered for him. “To deal with Death if she comes for you.”

Ebba’s mouth rounded in an O as she processed the trials ahead.

“Shall we get to it?” Damian asked. His tone was kind but prodding, indicating their time had run out.