Chapter Twenty-Seven
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
They walked the abandoned streets of Witchmere in disbelief. Shops were closed, and residents all appeared to have skedaddled in the short time they’d been gone. Tripp sent out feelers to check for others, but there were no life forces in the immediate vicinity.
“What do you suppose happened?” Elara asked, turning in a slow circle. “Where did everybody go?”
“Not sure. If I had to guess, I’d say Hermes and my mother were responsible for evacuating the residents.”
“But he said a max exodus was too dangerous.” She frowned and strode toward Never Too Many . “Don’t you find it odd Payton and my grandmother are gone? Or Archer, who Brelenia said was the town’s protector?”
He did.
Cocking his head, he listened for sounds of wildlife.
Nothing.
“Elara, did you have any particular thoughts as we traveled back?”
“Not really.” She frowned. “I might’ve wished you and I could live in a beautiful bubble away from everyone else’s bullshit.”
Of course! Her wish had overrode his simple teleportation spell.
“Your abilities are stronger than mine,” he said. “You’ve isolated the two of us from the rest of the world.”
“ I did that?”
The shock in her voice was priceless, and Tripp wondered, not for the first time, what it must be like to experience the wonders of burgeoning magic. He’d been born with his and had fine-tuned it throughout life. Hell, he was still learning new tricks, thanks to Hermes. But going from the bare minimum to being the most formidable person in town had to be bizarre.
“Not to sound condescending, but I’m proud of you.” He tugged a lock of her hair and conjured a beanie to cover her exposed ears. “You’re mastering magic faster than anyone I’ve ever known and doing it in a way that doesn’t create chaos for others.”
“Minus the active volcano,” she said dryly.
“Not your fault. That one’s on my mother and Hermes.”
“Agreed. But would we have realized we loved each other without this situation?”
“Yes.” He led her to a bench, dusted it off, and drew her beside him. Twisting to face her, he toyed with her fingers and noted the size for when he proposed. “If you recall, I’d followed you home from Harrison’s office.”
“Because you thought I was upset by seeing you and Rowan.”
He grinned. “You were.”
“Meh.” But she grinned back at him.
“Seeing the raw hurt in your eyes nearly destroyed me.”
Elara frowned. “I thought I did a good job hiding what I felt.”
“You do a great job of it for anyone who doesn’t know you,” he lied. “But I’ve made a job of studying you over the last two and a half years. I know your every expression.”
“Creepy,” she teased.
“No creepier than you ogling my shoulders,” he retorted with a laugh.
“Busted. In fairness to me, they’re splendid.” She sighed wistfully as if imagining them naked.
His body reacted immediately, but he didn’t act on it. This intimate moment was too precious to destroy with sex.
“It’s the water nymph in you,” Tripp said. “You’re attracted to strong swimmers.”
Her skin was the color of a ripe strawberry as she giggled.
“What did I say?” he asked, smiling and appreciating her charming amusement.
“Strong swimmers. That’s a term for sperm.”
“Ah.” He grinned. “I have those, too, but we’ll find a way to corral them so you don’t wind up pregnant.”
“You really wouldn’t mind not having children? It seemed to be a deal breaker for your mom.”
He mulled it over, trying to determine whether he wanted to carry on the Nightshade line. Elara’s uncertainty was bothersome. “Your worth is more than a vessel for children, flitter-mouse.” Tripp touched the area above her heart. “Your heart is your true worth. It’s open and generous.”
“Not like yours.”
“Much more than mine.” He caressed the chilled skin of her neck and gave her a boost of warmth. “Even now, you’re worried about my feelings or my mother’s.”
“But I don’t want to tie you down only to have you resent me later.”
“If we make it through the Trickster’s test, we have centuries of love ahead of us.” Leaning in, he planted a tender kiss on her tempting lips. “I love you, Elara. You. The soul that reincarnates, calling to me every lifetime, and is my perfect mate. I care not about the trappings of man or the need to procreate.” He kissed her again. “I only want you beside me every day. The first face I see when I wake, and the last I see when I close my eyes.”
“And I want you.”
“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world,” he said, meaning every word.
Her expression remained troubled.
“Why don’t you want children?” he asked, determined to peel back the layers. “This isn’t me pushing or attempting to change your mind. I want to know why you’re so adamant about it.”
“What if I turn out like my parents? What if, after I have kids, I grow bored and abandon them?”
“ That is your fear?” he scoffed. Her scowl alerted him to the fact he’d fucked up. “I wasn’t making light of it. It’s shocking to think you believe you’d be a terrible mother. You look after everyone, Elara. You aren’t the type to grow bored and abandon anyone. If that were the case, you’d have left Payton to her own devices years ago.” Smiling at her confused expression, he said, “You also would’ve left Florence’s grumpy ass to pursue your happiness. But once again, that soft heart of yours kept you rooted.”
“I needed the money,” she retorted.
“You have a trust fund worth a million dollars,” he countered.
“One I won’t touch. I don’t want their guilt money.”
“If you recall, Florence set those trusts up for you and Payton. Not your parents.”
“Guilt money on her part, too,” she said sourly.
“No. She needed to know you wouldn’t struggle. She wanted you to have options.”
Elara shifted to view the bookstore. “How do you know that?”
“I listen.”
“I listen!” Her tone was offended.
“You do, but not regarding Florence or topics revolving around rejection.” He held up a hand when she would’ve protested. “You’ve been hurt and have abandonment issues, flitter-mouse. And when someone mentions anything regarding it, you erect walls and become stubborn. It’s a natural reaction.”
“You think I’m being too hard on Flo?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But knowing what you do of her after the years you’ve spent here, hearing the sage advice she’s given, do you truly believe she doesn’t care?”
Her silence stretched out as she stared at the bookstore, but Tripp didn’t seek to intrude on her thoughts. In due course, she’d come to her own conclusions and realize Florence Shaw, while crusty and seemingly unfeeling, was a marshmallow when it came to her “gels.”
“I owe her an apology, don’t I?”
He held his thumb and index finger about an inch apart. “Maybe a small one.”
Elara laughed and sandwiched his face between her palms. “Maybe you should’ve been my therapist instead of Harrison.”
“But then we’d have had that whole doctor-patient taboo thing,” he teased.
“Hmm. But I like the idea of taboo.”
He pretended outrage. “Elara Elizabeth Hawthorne! Are you saying you’re lusting after the buttoned-up Doctor Cobb?”
Laughing, she straddled his lap. “No, Tripp Nightshade. I’m saying I like the idea of playing doctor with you.”
He conjured a lab coat with a snap. “Are you a naughty nurse or an improper patient I can’t keep my hands off of?”
“Let’s go with the improper patient. Then we can swap, and you can be the naughty nurse.”
“If I’ve never told you before, I love your wicked streak.”
“I didn’t have one before the boots,” she admitted.
He snorted. “Nonsense. You weren’t wearing those blasted things when you wanted me to pass the salami in the alley last week.”
Elara laughed. As she leaned in to show him exactly how wicked she could be, an explosion knocked her sideways into the snow.
“What the?—”
Tripp hauled her to her feet and positioned himself in front of her to confront the threat.
They were both stunned stupid when her father spoke.
“I won’t let you use my little girl, Nightshade,” Rupert growled. “Step away from her, and I’ll let you live.”
No one was more surprised than Elara when Mae approached and called up the snow, turning it into a building-sized water spout.
“ We won’t let you use our little girl,” she corrected.
“What the hell are you talking about? Have you gone crazy?” Elara screeched.
The ground rumbled, and she noticed the shimmering bubble encasing them for the first time. It rippled and dipped but held firm.
Tripp placed a hand on her arm. “Stay calm if you can. Remember the boots and Rainier.”
“Got it. Thanks.” Stepping around him, she placed herself between him and her parents. “I don’t know what you have against Tripp, but I love him. You’ll have to accept that he’s my chosen mate.”
A stone flickered on her boots, indicating she was on the right track.
But what exactly did they require?
“You left Payton and me to fend for ourselves with some half-baked hippie at a commune,” she said, keeping the judgment out of her voice. “It hurt both of us to know we meant nothing to you.” The purple beam flickered faster. She was getting somewhere! Curbing her excitement, she poured out her heart, keeping her angst at bay. “We had no knowledge of who you were or what we are, and had Tripp not uncovered our heritage, I might’ve died during the transition.”
Her mother’s gaze touched on him. “We were just in his apartment, Elara. He has a dossier on everyone in this town.”
“Meaning he didn’t just uncover what you were. He’s known all along,” her father stated grimly. “He’s been playing you.”
Doubts crept in, and the stone dulled as if it was being snuffed out.
Stepping forward, Tripp held out a hand to her. “Human lie detector, remember?”
She grinned and nodded. “I don’t need to ask. I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t. He’s a?—”
“I know what he is, Dad. He’s the man I love, and the man who loves me. We’re not playing the games of the Gods or out to trick each other.” She entwined her fingers with Tripp’s, squeezing tightly. “He told me about his research. But consider this…”
Kissing his knuckles, she released him to approach her father. “Consider that he’s a demigod who craves normalcy, not war. A man who feels the call of his mate’s soul across time and space. One who is compelled to find her in each lifetime.” She half turned and smiled at him. The fierce love staring back from his glowing eyes made her entire body tingle. “One who values her thoughts and honors her by considering her feelings first even if they are at odds with his.”
“A man who would kill for her without question,” he said gruffly. “But who would also make peace with a Titan determined to destroy him if it meant he could spend eternity with his mate.”
“Why the files?” Her mother asked. The accusation in her voice had turned to curiosity. “What does it serve?”
“I’ve been on the run from a matchmaking mama for centuries,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Wherever I go, I learn the layout and look for those who might wish me harm. Those files give me an idea of who to watch out for. That’s all.”
“I don’t buy it,” Rupert snapped. “Elara’s file is the thickest.”
“Because she’s the one I became obsessed with from the moment I set foot in Witchmere,” Tripp confessed. “And I suspected the nymph heritage, but not the Titan. I found very little information on either you or Mae, Hawthorne.”
“But your notes indicate you suspected her potential power. Do you deny it?”
A sick feeling started in Elara’s stomach. The question was valid, and Tripp’s guilty expression was damning.
He locked gazes with her. “No. I don’t deny it.”