Chapter Sixteen
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tripp Nightshade.
If Elara didn’t work with him and find a way to appease the Trickster, he and all the lovely Witchmere would die. She couldn’t bear the idea of his beautiful light extinguished.
Leaning on the balcony railing, she observed the bustling street below with detachment. What good did it do to care? Christmas was less than four days away, and their town, with all its holiday tourists, might never see it—all because of her .
She closed her eyes and said, “Come to me, Hex, er, Hermes.”
When she lifted her lids, she was startled to see him standing before her. Those green eyes were more penetrating as a human, and his ire at being summoned was stronger than any irritation Hex had displayed. This time, he couldn’t hike a leg and lick his balls to show annoyance.
Elara almost laughed at the mental image.
“What do you want?”
“Maybe I miss my cat,” she replied with a chin lift.
His eyes raked her body. “I wouldn’t mind curling up with you again.”
“Pervert.” But if she weren’t crazy about Tripp, she’d be all over him like a hobo on a ham sandwich.
Hermes’s grin was too knowing for her peace of mind.
“So, can I throw myself into the volcano to pacify the Gods, or what?” she asked, wiping the amusement from his face.
“Elara.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Please, Hermes. Tell me what I can do to save my friends and family. I’ll do anything.”
“It isn’t as simple as that, love.”
Turning away, she watched the unsuspecting go about their business. “I’ll stay and clean up my mess, but can you implant a suggestion for everyone to leave?”
“It would be a mass exodus, and people might get hurt anyway, considering the scope of the situation.”
“It’s not like they’re going to live anyway, right?” Angry, she stalked inside.
“Elara.” His tone was understanding and irritating.
“Just go away, Hermes. You’re useless.”
“Careful.”
The warning note in his voice sent her into a rage. “Why? What’s the worst you can do? Curse me with magical boots that will kill hundreds of thousands of innocents because Tripp and I can’t figure out what the fuck you want from us?” She charged over and shoved his chest, spiking her fury because he didn’t budge.
“Fuck you, Hermes, and the horse you rode in on! Or is it a Pegasus? I don’t even know your stupid Greek God history.”
The ground rumbled, halting her next rant.
They both froze, eyes wide.
“Did I do that?” she croaked.
“I don’t know.” He recovered faster than her. “But how about you keep your anger to a minimum?”
“Good plan.” With shaking hands, she pushed back her hair. “I can do that.”
“I explained earlier that you and Tripp need to resolve your relationship. It may mean you set aside your doubts and come together in love, or it could mean you find common ground and walk away from each other forever. The answer isn’t cut and dry, Elara. It never is.”
“We have less than two days, and we’ve never had the chance to explore a relationship. It’s not fair to expect it of us, Hermes.”
“You’ve danced around each other for two and a half years, not counting the many lives before this one.”
She threw up her hands. “I don’t remember any of them!”
“No, but Tripp does. He also knows someone who can restore your memories if he cares to ask.”
“Who?”
“My father.”
“Zeus?” she screeched.
“I see you do know your Greek God history,” he replied dryly.
“Yeah, well, I learned enough to know asking a god for anything will cost more in the long run.”
“Sometimes, yes.” Hermes strolled over to her bookshelves and nudged the snow globe her father had given her as a child. It inched precariously close to the edge.
“Your inner cat must be itching to get out,” she said, removing temptation from his path. After setting the snow globe on the bottom shelf, she straightened and met his laughing gaze squarely. “What do you think Zeus would demand as payment from Tripp? I assume a mortal like myself would be beneath his notice.”
“Clever girl.”
“I’ve had to be. Answer the question.”
Hermes shrugged and explored the shelves she’d refused to let Hex climb. “Firstborn? I’m not privy to my father’s thoughts nor inclined to care.”
“Firstborn? As in child ?” Elara shook her head vehemently. “Not a chance! No way am I allowing Tripp to sacrifice his child on my behalf.”
“He might not have one if you don’t.” Hermes acted like he didn’t care one way or the other.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means we’ll both be dead by then, flitter-mouse,” Tripp said from behind her.
She whirled to face him. “Why aren’t you furious at this ridiculous suggestion?”
“Because I have no intention of asking my uncle for anything.” Striding forward, he cupped her jaw. “We’ll figure it out, or we won’t. But this is our problem to work through.”
“I did this, Tripp. You warned me to remove the boots, and I didn’t listen.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but Hermes inserted a hand between them.
“If I may… You couldn’t have resisted even had you wanted to, Elara. They are enchanted.”
Balling her hands into fists, she rounded on him. “So this setup is centuries old? We were always going to be screwed?”
“Not necessarily. At any time, you could’ve given into your love for each other and?—”
“That’s it!” The first stirring of excitement bubbled within her. “It’s never been about resolving any issues or walking away. You won’t be happy without a commitment.”
Satisfaction curled his mouth. “Like I said, clever girl.”
On the heels of her epiphany rode the cold, hard truth. There was no way she or Tripp could fool the boots by the deadline. They weren’t in love.
“Mount Rainier will blow,” she stated with finality. “We need more time.”
Hermes glanced at Tripp, then back at her. “I’ll leave you to talk this through.”
Elara’s tragic expression was a gut punch. Tripp’s desire to haul her into his arms was overwhelming, but giving in to the urge was useless. They knew the score.
“What are you doing back here? I thought you had an appointment with Harrison?” she asked dully.
“Your distress distracted me.”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve?—”
Expelling a heavy sigh, he gave in to the desire and drew her close. “Stop apologizing, flitter-mouse. I’d rather be here.”
Her “You’re just saying that” was muffled and barely audible against his chest.
“No. If these are to be our last hours, I want to spend them with you.” He smiled when her arms tightened around him.
“Would more time have helped us fall in love, do you think?” she asked.
Her wistful question caused his heart to ache. “Doubtful. I won’t say love is instantaneous, but either you love someone, or you don’t. Trying to build what isn’t there won’t work.”
“And you don’t love me,” Elara stated flatly.
“The attraction is present,” he countered. “I like you more than anyone I’ve met while living here.”
She processed his comment, then nodded. “You’ve found me every lifetime, according to you and Hermes. But we can’t get to the love part because someone is always delivering me a pair of cursed shoes, starting the clock.”
The idea they were being sabotaged never crossed his mind before she oh-so-innocently voiced it. If an outside interference was disrupting the Fates’ design, could he appeal to a higher power to sort it out? Would they give him the required time or magic to prevent Rainier’s explosion? It bore looking into.
A phone on the counter heralded an incoming text, and Elara released him to check the message.
“Anything important?” Tripp asked, sensing her unease.
“There’s been a town meeting called at Wily Witches . You and I are being ordered to attend.”
“Ordered? Who would dare?”
“According to Payton, your mother dared.”
Holding back the litany of swear words struggling to escape, he nodded. “Do you wish to walk or teleport?”
Her eyes rounded. “I’ve never… I mean, I want to, but… My magic, it’s…”
“Elara.”
She pressed her fingertips to her mouth and waited.
“If you’d like to try it, I’m happy to transport you wherever you wish,” he assured her.
“Truly?”
He smiled at her childlike wonder. “Truly.”
“What do I do?”
“You hold on to me until I tell you to let go,” he replied.
A wry smile curled her lips. “I think I can do that.”
Tripp sensed her meaning was far, far deeper, but he ignored it. Standing, he drew her to her feet and into his arms. “Ready?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Take a deep breath and clear your mind. When we arrive, you may feel discombobulated or dizzy. It’s normal for the first time.”
“Okay.”
In his mind’s eye, he envisioned the alleyway beside the coffeehouse. Long ago, the alleys of Witchmere were enchanted, allowing for quick travel without revealing the supernatural. If non-magical pedestrians were about, they wouldn’t see the instantaneous comings and goings of the residents.
“You can open your eyes now, flitter-mouse.”
Tripp was unprepared for the impact when she did. The lazy way she lifted her lids and the unsuppressed excitement glowing from those blue orbs packed a powerful punch, making it difficult to look away. His desire to kiss her was overriding his ability to think straight.
“None of that,” his mother called from the alley entrance. “We’ve important matters to attend, darling.”
He briefly considered stealing Elara away to an undisclosed location to spend time alone with her. They’d yet to experience a day of peace and quiet or simply exist in the moment. All the external factors were pushing them farther apart instead of allowing them to bond, and Tripp couldn’t help feeling it was the opposite of what they were meant to experience.
Facing her, Tripp grimaced. “None of that? Wasn’t your whole goal to find me a mate, Mother?”
“Don’t be cheeky, darling. That mountain is about to erupt, and I’d prefer not to have another disaster on my hands.”
“Then stop sending lethal boots to women I care about,” he snapped.
Her smile flashed, quickly replaced by compressed lips and a narrow-eyed look. “Take a deep look at your feelings, and soon,” she urged. Wiggling her fingers at Elara as if encouraging a child to take her hand, Brelenia said, “Come, my dear. We have things to discuss.”
Ever dutiful, Elara took her proffered hand, leaving him standing, frustrated and all alone.
“Story of my life,” he muttered.
The mountain rumbled in response.