Chapter Twenty
CHAPTER TWENTY
Tripp Nightshade.
He was all Elara dreamed about in her fevered state. The memories of her past lives had returned to her with the wash of power flooding her cells, and she recalled the times they’d met and were crazy hot for each other. In each lifetime, she’d fallen for him, but he’d never proclaimed his love.
Disaster had followed.
Every. Single. Time.
Her eyes snapped open.
Just as it would this one last time.
The thought felt like a certainty her mind couldn’t erase. Following it was the awareness the people of Witchmere were doomed. Instead of celebrating a holiday of love, light, and joy, they’d be fleeing in terror. Their screams of fear would drown out the sound of sleigh bells. No shoppers would rush home with their presents. Instead, they’d rush to escape a town overcome with lava, ash, and toxic air.
Tears streamed from her eyes, soaking her temples and the feather-soft pillow cradling her head. A cool hand stroked her brow, and she shifted to see the woman beside her.
Compassion shone in her light-gray eyes. “How do you feel, sister?”
“Like I could drink an ocean, and it still wouldn’t be enough? Why am I so thirsty?”
“A lifetime spent denying your heritage. It will pass soon.”
“Heritage?” Elara frowned, struggling to recall what she’d heard at the meeting. “Water nymph.”
“Yes. Fathered by a Titan.”
“No, he’s my three-times great-grandfather or something like that.”
The woman laughed. “Is that what they told you?”
Elara nodded.
“They lied.”
“I don’t understand,” she said. “If my parents were gods, I’d know.”
The gray eyes narrowed in contemplation. “Let me guess. The story goes something like this: Your father was loving and indulged your flighty mother’s every whim. But they never stayed in one place for long.”
Elara froze.
The guess was accurate and eerie as hell.
“I can tell by your shocked expression that I’m right.” The woman sighed and stroked her cheek. “Sorry, little one, but your parents were not mere mortals. Mother of nymph descent, Titan father. The power radiating off of you is a testament to this fact.”
Rolling her head to stare at the ceiling and consider what the other woman had said, Elara was struck by another realization. She gasped and jackknifed into a sitting position.
“We’re in a bubble under the water?”
“We are.”
“How? Where?”
“I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m Storm. You’re half-sister.”
Elara’s head almost came off her shoulders; she whipped it around so fast. “What? Half-sister?”
“Same father.”
“Rupert Hawthorne is your dad?”
Her newfound sister snorted. “Rupert? Is that what he’s calling himself now?”
“Please, I am completely in the dark on this one. Can you give me the highlights here?” The pleading in her voice was cringeworthy, but she’d had the week from hell and needed the clarification.
“Of course.”
The woman unfolded herself from the bed and rose, revealing a tall, perfectly toned body. It came as a surprise to realize she was naked.
“Do you, uh, normally walk around in that state?” Cheeks hot, Elara gestured up and down.
As if she just registered her nudity, the woman laughed. “Yes. I forget it bothers others.”
“I’m not bothered. I?—”
“It’s not what you’re used to?”
“Yes.” Elara sighed in relief, feeling understood despite the situation’s bizarreness and the inability to communicate properly.
“Not to worry.” With a snap of her fingers, her sister was clothed in a sheer, flowing robe. The peek-a-boo material showed nearly every ounce of her gleaming, dark-brown skin. “Better?”
“Um…”
Deep-throated laughter rang out, and Elara recognized she was being teased.
Another snap and the sheerness of the robe was gone, effectively covering all the exposed bits women normally hid in their modesty.
“Sorry, but your face was too priceless for words.” The woman leaned in and kissed Elara’s hot cheek. “You’re adorable, little sister.”
“And foolish, I suppose?”
“I wouldn’t go that far unless you’ve lost your heart to the gorgeous demigod who left you on my doorstep.”
Her heart sank to the floor of her sister’s watery residence. “Tripp left me?”
The watchful gray eyes narrowed slightly. “I see I’m too late to warn you away. And yes, he handed you over to me. However, it wasn’t by choice, so you can lose the crestfallen look, dear heart.”
“Is he okay?” Pulse-pounding fear for him took root, and Elara jumped to her feet.
“He’s fine. See for yourself.” Her sister waved a hand, and the mirrored wall Elara had failed to notice before transformed from hazy to clear, showing him. Tripp paced the sandy shoreline, careful to avoid the lapping waves, and every so often, he’d look toward the center of the bay. Concern etched his perfect visage, and it warmed Elara.
With a relieved sigh, she murmured, “He didn’t leave me.”
“No. Seven hours he’s waited, and he’d likely wait seven hundred more. It would take an act of Zeus to remove that man from the shoreline, and still, he’d find a way to return to you,” her sister replied in a droll voice. “The fool with him would’ve gone a long time ago, though.”
Elara spotted Hermes napping in the sun a short distance away. “He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”
“You know him? In what sense?”
The sharpness of her sister’s tone caught her attention. The two shared history.
“In the Trickster sense,” Elara said. Grimacing, she pointed to her boots. “He’s been trying to make sure I don’t end the world because of his stupid enchantment.”
“Like I said, he’s a fool.” Anger hardened the woman’s face. “He thinks nothing of stirring up trouble, then leaving others to clean up his mess. He’s a special kind of?—”
“Careful, Stormy, my love.” His voice echoed through the chamber, though he hadn’t moved from his spot on the sand.
“Holy shit!” Elara squeaked. “How did he do that?”
“Gods possess the ability to tune into frequency. If he knows who and what he wishes to listen to, he can find them and eavesdrop.” She raised her voice and called out, “Shitbag!”
His affectionate chuckle filled the room.
“Uh, Stormy, is it?”
“Storm, but yes.”
Elara approached the mirror and touched Tripp’s image. “How do I get back to him?”
“You should make him stew a little longer. It’s good for a relationship.”
She laughed, unable not to in the face of her new sister’s pique. But just as quickly, her amusement died, and she gave Storm a sympathetic look. “Hermes must’ve done a number on you.”
“He’s a careless prick, like the rest of the Gods. They think only of their pleasures and of no one else.”
“I’m sorry.”
Storm’s expression softened. “You have no reason to be, dear heart. You are as much a victim of his games as anyone.”
“True.” Raising her voice, she called, “Shitbag!”
Storm’s laughter blended beautifully with Hermes’s as the sound met Elara’s ears. Harmonious humor, as it were.
“So, about this shared father who isn’t as mortal as I believed,” she said. “What can you tell me?”
“The man you know as Rupert Hawthorne is Rhalassar of Hawthorne, son of Helios. No one knows who his mother is, not even our father, but for certain, she was a Goddess.” Storm shrugged as if it were an everyday occurrence not to know your parentage. Perhaps in the world of immortals, it was the norm, but it wasn’t something Elara would grow used to.
“And your mother?”
“Varinnia.”
Sadness tinged the spoken name, and though Elara didn’t want to pry, she felt she needed to ask. “What happened?”
“Posideon banished her for consorting with Rhalassar. She was promised to another.”
“So she came to your bay to have you?” Elara guessed.
“Yes. My birth brought forth an epic storm here in the Amazon.”
“Ah! Hence the name Storm.”
“More formally, Storm Bringer,” her sister said with a careless shrug. But she couldn’t fully disguise her hurt.
“What happened to your mother?”
“She languished, heartbroken and betrayed. When I was barely more than a child, her life force left her, and she transformed into the crystal stalagmite that serves to support my home.”
Elara pressed her hands to her mouth, holding back a cry of dismay. It was easy to envision the entire scenario. The man she knew as Rupert Hawthorne would’ve never thought about leaving his daughter to survive on her own. It’s why the story seemed plausible. Also, something about the woman’s proud bearing reminded Elara of Payton.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Both for your loss and for our absent father..”
“It’s not your fault. And it’s not your mother’s, either. Between mine and yours, there were many women, and Rhalassar broke hearts aplenty.”
“He always made it seem like he had no choice but to follow my ‘flighty’ mother, but it must’ve been the other way around.”
“Perhaps. Or maybe your mother was one he truly cared for. It matters not after all this time.”
Elara shook her head. “How are you so chill about it? I’m sure I’d be furious.”
“I suppose it’s the one thing I can be grateful to Hermes for. He taught me the Gods are fickle creatures out for their pleasures. When they receive what they want, they move on.”
Hadn’t Elara thought the same thing during the meeting?
Movement in the mirror caught her attention. Hermes was sitting upright and glaring toward the bay. “You kicked me out of your bed, Stormy! I didn’t leave you.”
“Because you’re a self-indulgent shitbag!” Storm shouted back.
The ground rumbled, and lightning flashed, causing Tripp to run toward them. Her sister threw up a hand, and a wall of water blocked his path. At the same time, Hermes tackled him to the sand.
“What the fuck did I tell you about entering the bay?” he shouted at Tripp. “Do you have a fucking death wish?”
“Why can’t he enter?” Elara asked her sister.
Storm placed a finger to her lips before creating a secondary bubble to encase the two of them. To test the sound-proofing, she hollered. Neither Hermes nor Tripp reacted. With a nod of satisfaction, she said, “Technically, he can, but he might become sick if his intentions aren’t pure of heart. My mother cursed these waters, and unless they offer a sacrifice, one cannot enter without permission.”
“Sacrifice? What about me?”
“You’re different. You’re a water nymph—and related to me. You’re welcome anytime.”
Having been denied loving family relationships all her life, Elara felt tears sting her eyes at the blasé welcome. And when Storm hugged her, those tears flowed unrestrained.
“It’s okay, little sister. You’re loved.”
And hers were the hardest words to hear. Mainly because she found them difficult to believe.