Absolutely Captivated by Kristine Grayson Read Free Book Online

what’s the difference?”
    “Decades,” Kyle said.
    “Still, we’re not to the central
point,” Lachesis said. “Which is helping you.”
    “If your father won’t acknowledge his
magic, then there’s not much we can do,” Atropos said.
    “Don’t you have magic?” Kyle
asked.
    “We used to,” Clotho said, and all
three women looked very sad.
    “It’s part of that long story,”
Lachesis said.
    “Oh,” Kyle said. “Well, look, my dad
might wake up and find me missing, and if he does I’m in a heck of
a lot of trouble, so I’m going to go to bed. Just don’t talk to him
about this, okay? And all the magic stuff? Tomorrow, let’s just
drive. Really, it’s for the best.”
    The Fates nodded. Kyle
nodded back, like a grown-up would, and then he stalked away from
the pool, not caring that the concrete seemed even colder than it
had a moment ago, and that he was hitting rocks with his bare
feet.
    Served him right for listening to
other people. It didn’t matter that Aunt Viv had found someone who
appreciated her psychic powers. It didn’t matter that Uncle Dex
believed in (and maybe even had) magic.
    All that mattered was that Kyle’s
father didn’t believe in psychic powers or magic, no matter how
much psychic ability Kyle had.
    And he had to remember that, instead
of getting carried away because someone else found the secret to
happiness.
    Kyle hurried up the stairs, ripped the
note off the Fates’ door, and let himself into his own hotel room.
His dad was still asleep, only he’d rolled away from the door. His
even breathing reassured Kyle, as Kyle pushed the door
closed.
    It was the two of them. It had always
been the two of them.
    And it always would be.
     

 
     
Four
     
    A few days later, Travers found
himself sitting on a Las Vegas freeway, wondering when his life had
spiraled out of control.
    He was hot. The air-conditioner in his
SUV was running at full blast, but it didn’t seem to matter. He was
sitting in the sun, his hands pasted to the steering wheel, trying
to negotiate all the traffic on Interstate 15 heading into Las
Vegas.
    Kyle was buckled in beside him,
staring gape-mouthed at the conglomeration of hotels and goofy
architecture that made Vegas a place out of nightmares. The SUV was
paralleling the Strip and to the right were some of the
architecturally strangest buildings Travers had ever
seen.
    A large green hotel that went for
stories. A replica of the Statue of Liberty, almost hidden by all
the buildings, a replica of the Eiffel Tower (who would go to that
thing? Why not go to the real one?), and a volcano that spewed fake
lava into the overheated air. There were pools and marble statues
and big, big, big signs advertising names Travers had never heard
of and a whole bunch that he had.
    In the back seat, the three Wyrd
Sisters, as Kyle had once called them, were arguing quietly about
their next course of action. At least, Travers thought they were
being quiet. He wasn’t sure. He had the radio on full blast,
letting Travis Tritt and Alan Jackson and Oak Ridge Mountain Boys
speak for him.
    Travers wasn’t about to get into a
conversation with those three women again, if he could help
it.
    He wasn’t even sure how he
ended up in Las Vegas with his son at his side, and three of the
craziest women he’d ever met in the back seat. Sure, he knew the
sequence of events. Those were easy.
    First, he had driven the
women to L.A., and asked where they wanted to be dropped off. They
had no idea, so he had taken them to his house (mistake number
one), where they examined the phonebook and let Kyle look on the
Internet for this woman they were supposed to see.
    Her name, apparently, was Zanthia, but
she answered to Zoe as well. (Everyone the Wyrd Sisters seemed to
know had more than one name. Even the guy that Vivian had married
had a different name, at least according to the three women.) This
Zanthia was a private detective, according to the Wyrd Sisters, and
should have been fairly