Chapter Eighteen
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Should we continue without them?” Brelenia asked, her eyes following her son’s departure. In his arms, he cradled Elara, and his worried expression spoke well for the resolution of their magical boots experience.
“What’s the point?” Mayor Cobb gathered her pad, pen, and purse. “Without the two primary instigators of this catastrophe, we’re dead in the water.”
Brelenia narrowed her gaze. “I don’t believe I care for your tone, Mary-Alice.”
“I know I don’t,” Payton added. With hands on her hips and the light of battle in her eyes, she stared the mayor down. “How about you try to be a human being and consider other people’s feelings for a change, you miserable heifer?”
“How dare you!” Mary-Alice’s outrage was complete.
Brelenia shared an exasperated glance with Florence before clapping her hands. “Enough, ladies. Fighting amongst ourselves will solve nothing.”
Dailey Cobb showed a marked interest in the fireworks between his mother and Payton, and it forced one to wonder if he remained on the sidelines for fear of backlash from both women or if he wanted them to work through their issues on their own.
Brelenia could’ve told him it wasn’t going to happen. Mary-Alice might be a loving mother under her polished exterior, but in her mind, Payton Hawthorne wasn’t good enough for her precious boy. Having been in a similar situation with her middle child, Brelenia understood letting her son make his own mistakes was paramount. Perhaps, when Rainier was put to rest, she’d pull the other woman aside to suggest she exit Dailey and Payton’s relationship. Maybe then the couple might stand a chance.
Peering closer, she spotted the magic she’d previously missed. The air around him was tinged purple, giving Brelenia a strong indication Elara had either purposefully or accidentally cast a spell on Dailey. One that might be difficult to remove since it was enhanced with Trickster magic. It was a wonder that Enguerrand and Hermes had failed to notice it. Granted, they might have, but they had yet to act. Certainly, Enguerrand was preoccupied with Elara. Hermes, as the God of Chaos, may have ignored the spell in favor of the upcoming drama. One never knew with her mischievous nephew.
Filing the information away for another time, Brelenia focused on the unfolding discussion.
“This is everyone’s problem,” Florence was saying. “Why can’t you get it through that helmet-haired head of yours, Mary-Alice?” She flipped open her cigarette case, eyed the Mayor’s hairspray-coated up-do, and snapped the lid closed with a huff. “Might cause an explosion well before Rainier blows her top.”
Brelenia bit the inside of her cheek to hold back her laughter. She dared not meet Hermes’s gaze, or she’d lose control. If he displayed any humor whatsoever, she was what her son called “a goner.”
“Are you going to sit there and let them talk to me like this, Dailey James?” Mary-Alice asked frostily.
Dailey dropped his booted feet from the table and stood. “No, ma’am. That wasn’t my intent. But you’ve never needed me to defend your honor in the past. When you’re all ready to discuss the problem, call me. I’ve rounds to make.”
“Let another of your officers do it,” she ordered. “You’re needed here.”
Indecision was written on his face, and he scratched his jaw with its day-old stubble. “I need a coffee,” he muttered, striding from the room toward the barista.
“Another one bites the dust,” Payton quipped. “Soon, we won’t have anyone in attendance, Mayor. Keep up the charming dialogue.”
“And yet, the only one not contributing anything to this discussion is you , dear,” Mary-Alice replied with a chilly smile.
If hatred had a look, it was in the one Payton Hawthorne cast her ex-lover’s mother.
Hermes jumped up, casually gripped her arm, wrapped it through his, and escorted her toward the exit. “Come, you beautiful creature. Tell me more about your charming town.”
Although he’d defused the bomb, his departure with Payton sparked another fuse.
“That is precisely why she’s no match for my son!” Mary-Alice sneered. “She runs off with other men at every opportunity. She’s nothing but a who?—”
“Careful,” Florence warned. “That’s my kin you’re disparaging, and I’ll not stand for it.”
“You’re the reason they are as wild and unpredictable as they are, Florence Shaw. If you’d revealed what they were and sent them to be trained in a proper academy, we might not be in this dire circumstance.”
“Sure, and it’s always my fault, isn’t it, you harpy! Maybe if you hadn’t been throwing yourself at Rupert, my Mae might’ve stuck around.”
“How dare you!” Mary-Alice exclaimed.
“Oh, get off your high horse, you mad cow! Own up to your mistakes for once.”
Archer Roche sighed and exited the room, leaving Brelenia, the two lifelong foes, and Bohdan Sanderson lurking in the shadows.
“Mr. Sanderson, would you be so kind as to fetch a pot of tea while I speak to these ladies?” she asked, casting her most encouraging smile. “You’d be a dear if you would.”
Humor brightened his sharp gaze, and he strode away. Before exiting, he turned back and ascertained her favorite before continuing his mission.
The instant he was gone, Brelenia flicked a finger to shut the door behind him, then turned to face the bickering town leaders. She tapped her fingernail against her teeth as she considered her options. Sure, she could freeze and force them to behave, but it would solve nothing. They needed to work together for the good of the community and, eventually, Payton and Dailey.
“Ladies,” she called, hoping to gain their attention. She failed. With an irritated sigh, she shut her eyes and summoned her ability to influence others. When she had a handle on the power, she considered the words to convey what she intended and wove them into her short speech. “You will shelve this unnecessary argument until the threat has passed and Witchmere is once again safe, do you understand?”
They nodded, and the battle line was erased as they joined her at the table.
Bohdan returned with the tea, followed by Archer, Hermes, and Payton.
“Perfect timing, everyone.” Brelenia’s smile was warm and welcoming, including them all. The more people she could rally to work together, the better the potential outcome. “Where is Officer Cobb? Will he be rejoining us?”
“Dailey is making the rounds. He’ll be back in ten,” Archer informed them.
Interesting. Despite his mother’s dictate to assign the job elsewhere, Dailey had defied her. Progress, indeed. The young man wasn’t what one would call a “mama’s boy,” but coming from a tight-knit magical family as he had, he was inclined to listen to the matriarch. Payton, on the other hand, was left to find her way in the world without proper guidance. Both possessed strong personalities, but where Dailey’s life was structured, Payton’s wasn’t, and the woman would always rebel whenever anyone attempted to control her.
“Let’s get started—again—shall we?” Brelenia suggested sweetly.
Hermes grinned at her masterful manipulation but remained silent.
“The problem is that Enguerrand and Elara can’t acknowledge their feelings for each other. I propose we put operation Jealousy into motion.”
With green eyes sparkling, Hermes leaned forward. “That’s Tripp’s given name, for those who don’t know.” Of Brelenia, he asked, “How do you propose we do that? Which of the townspeople do you intend to utilize for your plan?”
“The clear choice is Rowan Sanderson to entice Tripp,” Florence suggested. “She’s the most beautiful gel in town.”
All the men nodded.
Payton scowled but held back her opinion.
“Excellent.” Brelenia poured tea into the available cups and passed them out. “And who should we use to open my son’s eyes? Hmm?”
“I doubt you’ll have any takers. Who the hell is going to risk a demigod’s temper?” Archer asked dryly.
She nodded. “Yes, I can see where that might be a problem.” Focusing her attention on Hermes, she raised a brow. “I suppose you’ll have to volunteer, nephew.”
“No can do.” He shook his head, considered the tea in the delicate cup, and waved a hand to transform it into a glass of wine.
“You’d best make sure you turn that back. Avery will have your ass if all her cups and saucers aren’t accounted for,” Bohdan warned.
“Duly noted,” Hermes replied.
“Back to the discussion. Why can’t you volunteer?” Payton asked him.
“She knows who I am and that I posed as her beloved cat. Her tolerance for my presence is low.”
“Valid.” She cast a glance among those present, summing them up. “Bohdan might be her type. He likes to lurk in alleyways.”
The man in question choked. When he could speak again, he said, “Hell, no! Tripp threatened to have my ass waxed the last time I annoyed him. I’m not going anywhere near Elara.”
Unable to escape the visual of a bald-assed wolf, Brelenia laughed along with the others. “Archer? What about you? Would you be willing to court Elara to prompt Enguerrand to react?”
He appeared to consider it but quickly shrugged and shook his head. “I wouldn’t pass as handsome with today’s women. I doubt Tripp would view me as a threat to his relationship, considering how enamored with him Elara is. Honestly, I doubt he’d view anyone that way.”
“You have a point. He takes after me and is gifted in the looks department.” She wasn’t intentionally vain. The truth was that the Gods were a gorgeous lot. Although plastic surgery, eating nutritious foods, and exercise could make mortals beautiful, few reached her level. She might be older than dirt, but she still possessed the ass of a twenty-year-old.
“My suggestion would be to bring out his protective instincts,” Hermes said. “Perhaps another god or Titan might work to spark his territorial side.”
Brelenia tapped a manicured finger on the table as she considered the problem from every angle. Her lips curled as she met and held her nephew’s emerald gaze. He turned wary, amusing her further.
“An abduction,” she declared. “Tomorrow. And I know just the person to do it.”