Chapter Nineteen
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“You should know, your mother has planned to spark your protective instincts where your woman is concerned,” Hermes told Tripp an hour later.
Pausing in bathing Elara’s brow, Tripp scowled. “What? Why?”
“She’s hoping if you’re challenged, you’ll realize the depths to which you care for Elara.”
He hung his head and sighed. “Go ahead. Tell me everything. What does she intend to do?”
“Abduction. I know the when—tomorrow—but not the who. She seemed to have another deity in mind, though.”
“Fucking lovely.”
In truth, it wasn’t the first batshit crazy idea his mother had, but it might be the most dangerous. Elara had yet to wake from her transformation, if it was indeed over, and his concern was at an all-time high. She’d been fighting a fever since the meeting, and Tripp had done his level best to cool her skin with ice water. Most of the moisture had turned to steam.
He was still wrapping his mind around the level of magic radiating through and off her.
“It’s possible she’s stronger than we are,” he said aloud.
“Your mother?” Hermes asked, confusion tugging his brows down.
“Elara. Focus on her power and see for yourself.”
Shutting his eyes, his cousin remained still as he tested the air between them. When his emerald eyes flared wide, he confirmed what Tripp suspected.
“How can that be?” Hermes asked.
“Well, now we know Helios sired her line. He’s a formidable god.” With gentle fingers, he spread water along the seam of her parched lips. “I’m worried about her,” he confessed. “It’s as if something is sucking all the fluid from her body, and her skin is dehydrating faster than I can replenish it.”
“What about a humectant applied to her skin? Would it help?”
“I’ve tried it on her face. It dried instantly, creating a puff of dust.” Tripp shook his head. “Don’t ask me how it happened because I don’t know.”
“We need to speak to Florence Shaw.”
“It may not do any good,” he replied. “Although she’s a formidable witch in her own right, with the nymph blood running through her veins, she’s not a Titan-nymph hybrid like Elara.”
“But surely she possesses an inkling of how it works,” Hermes argued.
“One would think, but I received the impression earlier she didn’t. I’ve known her for a few years, and she’s never been shy about information or opinions.”
“Have you tried adding salt to the water?” his cousin asked, shrugging when Tripp paused in bathing Elara’s skin. “If she’s part water nymph, she needs the sea.”
“You’re a brilliant bastard, I’ll grant you that.” Gathering her close, Tripp envisioned the closest beach, but as he was about to teleport, Hermes touched his arm.
“Wait. I have a different idea. We should take her to Storm Bringer’s Bay.”
“Are you mad?” Tripp shook his head. “The Storm Bringer will require a token, and we have nothing to give.”
“She owes me a favor.”
Storm Bringer’s Bay was by far the best option. Secluded and magical, the waters were reported to heal a weary traveler. But the water nymph who’d claimed the bay for her own was notoriously demanding. Unless at their wit’s end, deities stayed far away from Storm’s seductive waters lest they found themselves indebted to an exacting nymph.
“How is it she owes you ?”
“I helped her exact the price from a would-be thief.”
Glancing down at Elara, Tripp turned it over in his mind and considered all his options. Even as he delayed, her lips cracked and dried. Blood oozed from the worst cracks.
“All right. Take me to her.”
They were standing at the water’s edge in a flash, facing the Storm Bringer.
“Storm! Darling!” Hermes called with a roguish grin. “I’ve come to call in that favor.”
Dark skin glistening with water, the naked nymph rose from the water to stand on its surface. With eyes narrowed, she sashayed to them, creating the barest of ripples. “You dare come here, Hermes?”
“Fuck,” Tripp muttered under his breath. “I should’ve known.”
Leave it to the Divine Trickster to con him into going where they weren’t welcomed and where the toll was likely the cost of their lives.
“I’ve got this,” Hermes said in an aside, barely moving his lips. “Trust me.”
“Fat chance.”
But before Tripp could teleport away, Storm was stroking Elara’s cheek. The cracked and bleeding lips of a moment before were rapidly healing, and although still asleep, a relieved look settled on Elara’s face. Her visage took on a relaxed quality, and she turned her head toward the cooling hand.
“Why is she this way?” Storm asked with a dark frown. “Who did this to her?”
“She’s transitioning from a mortal witch,” he said.
“Give her to me.”
His arms tightened. “What is the pri?—”
“No fee will be required. As this fool indicated, I owe him a favor.” Storm’s ice-gray eyes flashed with her anger as she cut Hermes a surly glance. “However, I’d never let another nymph suffer, favor or no.”
Still, he had to know. “What is it you intend to do with her?”
“I’ll provide her with what she needs to survive.” Her gaze was assessing as she watched him, waiting for him to decide.
“How long will you hold her? We have a bit of a situation that needs resolving back home.”
Black brows shot skyward, and she looked between Hermes and him.
“What has he done now?” she asked with a tilt of her head toward his cousin.
“The boots on Elara’s feet. His curse on us.”
Hermes took exception. “Now, wait a damned minute! Those boots were a gift from your mother, not me.”
“Yes, yes, yes. You’re only hanging about to make sure Elara and I don’t screw up in this lifetime.” Tripp shot him a dirty look. “I got it.”
With a careless shrug, Hermes crossed his arms and surveyed the bay. “Nice place you have here, Stormy Baby.”
She snorted, but there was humor in the sound. Turning back to Tripp, she asked? “Enguerrand Nightshade, yes?”
“Yes,” Tripp confirmed.
“And who is the woman?”
“Elara Hawthorne.”
“Hawthorne!” Storm’s brows shot upward again, and her expression was one of astonishment. “One of Helios’s?”
“A descendant, yes,” Hermes confirmed. However, there was a sketchy quality in his voice, as if yet another surprising revelation awaited Tripp.
“What are you not telling us?” she asked his cousin. Without waiting for a reply, she said, “Enguerrand, give Elara to me and step back, please.”
At six feet tall, Storm’s build was impressive. Her body possessed not an ounce of fat, and her movements highlighted her sinewy muscles as she reached forward.
He glanced around for the first time, realizing they were in the Amazonian jungle. “You’re the queen here?” he asked, gently placing Elara in her arms and hesitating to move backward in case the weight was too much for her. It wasn’t, and she easily held Elara’s petite form.
“No, but my daughter is. I’m the wise woman for her people.”
“Your reputation is scary for a wise woman.”
The flash of her pearly white teeth startled him. “That’s more for our kind than for the villagers here. This land should remain untouched.”
“Yet the humans are encroaching and stripping the land,” Hermes said with a scowl.
Storm nodded. “Yes, but as long as I live, this area shall always be protected.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Tripp assured her.
“Excellent.” She turned to leave, Elara cradled in her arms.
“Wait!”
Looking back over her shoulder, she cocked her head. “What is it, Enguerrand? The delay is costly.”
“How long? What is needed to help her? I—” Breathing became difficult at the thought of Elara out of his sight and reach, should she need him. Hermes’s warning about the abduction came back to haunt him.
Understanding and compassion flashed on Storm’s regal visage. “Fear not, demigod. She is in good hands. I’ll not allow anything to happen to her. Return to the water’s edge in seven hours, and she shall be waiting.”
Before he could offer any other questions, she sank to the bottom of the clear bay, taking Elara with her. As the whirlpool started in the center, it took every ounce of willpower and Hermes’s grip to keep him from diving in after them.
“Don’t!” His cousin gave him a hard shake. “She’ll be fine, but you won’t be if you enter the bay without permission.”
“I can’t leave her,” Tripp croaked. His heart felt torn from his body, and his chest ached as he strained to see Elara through the swirling depths.
“Sit and wait if you must, but don’t you dare go into the water.”
He nodded his agreement, backed a few feet, and sank onto the sun-warmed sand. “Do you know what she’ll do to cure her?”
“No, but I have an idea.”
Tripp raised a brow, expecting Hermes to elaborate.
He didn’t.
“You’re an asshole.”
Hermes grinned. “So I’ve been told.”
“When this is over, remind me to punch you in the face.”