Chapter Twenty-Eight
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Why?”
Elara’s suspicions were stirred, and Tripp’s gut clenched. He had no good reason for digging deeper into her life.
“I don’t know. Perhaps it was my obsessive need to discover everything about you,” he said. “I truly don’t know, flitter-mouse. Not any more than I knew to come to Witchmere, following the trail of your spirit’s essence.”
With a thoughtful frown, she held out her hand, and he placed his in hers, palm to palm. “Tell me the truth,” she said.
The compulsion was more than he could bear, and he repeated everything he’d said to this point.
“Is there anything you haven’t told me about your investigation or why you chose me?”
“No.”
Shifting her grasp, she squeezed his hand. “I’m satisfied it’s the truth.”
“I’m not,” Rupert snapped. “You’re not thinking straight, Elara. You’re thinking with your?—”
“Careful,” Tripp warned, refusing to let anyone insult her.
“I intended to say ‘heart, not head,’” the Titan said, but his anger had lessened. Summing him up, Rupert asked, “You do realize I’m more powerful than you, son, yes?”
“I do.”
“And still, you would stand up to me to defend Elara’s honor?”
“I would.”
Her parents shared a speaking glance.
“All right. We accept you as her protector.”
Elara, ever contrary, scowled. “What? You can’t make a declaration and expect everyone to bow to your demands.”
Tripp laughed and caught her as she stomped by him. Swinging her around, he touched his forehead to hers. “He’s not demanding anything, flitter-mouse. He’s accepting your choice and giving his blessing.”
Though her scowl eased, she still wasn’t thrilled. “I don’t need anyone to accept my choices. They’re mine.”
“I won’t disagree.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “You and I will always make our own decisions.”
“Always.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she tugged his head down until their lips were a whisper apart. “You’re mine, and I’m yours.”
“Always,” he agreed, sealing it with a kiss.
When they parted, one of the two boot jewels they’d been unable to label shone brightly.
“Elara, look!”
Her cry of excitement was contagious, and he laughingly swung her around. “Only one more to go!”
“What’s this?” Mae’s confusion was endearing, and they took pity on her to explain. When they were finished, she tucked her arm through Elara’s. “You’ve named all but the one, and the stone matching your relationship with us is still in flux. What can we do to help?”
The light turned solid.
“I think you just did, Mom,” Elara said in awe.
“Splendid! Let’s have tea.”
Tripp remained behind as Mae led Elara toward Wily Witches .
Rupert hung back, too. “It’s time we talked, Nightshade.”
“No, sir. There will be time after we remove the last threat to Witchmere. Until then, we work together to help Elara.”
“That’s what I intended to say. But I was also going to say that I believe that last stone is yours, not hers.”
“Why? Those bloody boots have been about her unresolved issues.”
“Until now,” Rupert replied. “You were too busy to notice, but the amethyst only lit when you committed to Elara.”
“I committed when I told her I loved her,” Tripp said. “My intentions haven’t changed.”
“Well, something happened between then and now. I know what I saw.”
If it was true, then there was something he and Elara were missing in all of this. Something Hermes might clarify. But the Divine Trickster’s cooperation was never guaranteed.
“What was it you wanted?” Rupert asked. When Tripp glanced at him in surprise, the man laughed. “I’ve been around a helluva lot longer than you, son. I know a troubled mind when I see one.”
“I don’t want her hurt when you and your wife leave again.”
Rupert’s eyes touched on his retreating family. “I doubt Mae will let that happen. She’s been miserable far too long without her girls.”
“Then why stay away?”
“I’m a Titan, Nightshade. You know what that means. Challenges by other gods because I’m the last of my kind.”
“Until Elara.”
Expression grim, the man nodded. “Until Elara.”
A lead weight settled in Tripp’s stomach. When word leaked of what she was, others would come to test her, hoping to steal her power.
“How have you survived until now? And why spend so many years in your beach house?”
“Both your questions can be answered the same way. We rarely stay there and are always on the move. It’s just a place for Mae to replenish her magic.”
“I see.” And Tripp did. Maybe their town of supernaturals could band together and help him create a cloaking spell to protect Elara and, by extension, Payton. His mother might be willing if her ruffled feathers were soothed. Hermes might be on board, too. Tripp hadn’t missed the caring in his cousin’s eyes.
“What are you thinking?” Rupert asked.
“Just what it will take to protect her.”
“If you aren’t up for the task?—”
“Fuck off. I’d lay my life down for her without question,” he stated coldly. Lightning flashed. “Don’t ever question my motives again, Hawthorne, or I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
Rupert surprised him when he grinned and slapped him on the back. The force behind the hit knocked him forward.
“I think you’re perfect for my daughter, son.”
“Thanks,” he said, tone drier than dirt. “I have the feeling my life is about to get a thousand times more interesting with you and Mae around.”
“Titans attract trouble. What is it the young’uns say? Sorry for your bad luck.”
Tripp laughed. How could he not? In Rupert, he saw flashes of Elara’s humor and grit. He’d be hard-pressed not to like the guy.
“Spill your guts, cousin.”
Hermes glanced up to see Tripp bearing down on him. He had to hand it to the man; he was relentless regarding Elara’s happiness and the safety of Witchmere.
“You should be excited, Tripp. There’s only one stone left.”
“Rupert Hawthorne suggested it might be my issue, not Elara’s, and it got me thinking.”
“Yes, I thought I smelled smoke. Silly me, I thought it was the ash,” Hermes replied. Why not, when Tripp had set himself up for the dig?
“Do you want a broken nose?”
Tripp’s visage lacked humor, and it wasn’t hard to tell his patience was at an end.
Tired of the game and worried about how close they were to complete annihilation, Hermes sighed and said, “Yes, Tripp. The final one is for you. Happy?”
“I’d be happy to drop those fucking boots in the volcano.”
“It’s highly probable something—or someone—else should go in,” he said lightly, providing the last clue.
Tripp inhaled sharply and failed to exhale.
“Breathe, man. You’re already mush-minded. We can’t have you lightheaded, too.”
The enraged reaction was expected, but the strength behind his cousin’s rage was a surprise. Hermes’s head snapped back with the first blow to his jaw.
Wrapping his meaty fist in Hermes’s sweater, Tripp shook him like a mangy mutt with a bone. “If anything happens to Elara, I’ll kill you.
“For the love of the Olympus! Get ahold of yourself, you animal! This is a two-thousand-dollar cashmere,” he scolded, slapping Tripp’s wrist. “And what do you take me for, anyway? I adore that adorable little sea urchin. Of course, nothing is going to happen to her. Not if you get your head out of your ass.”
After releasing him, Tripp sank onto the nearest chair and dropped his head in his hand. “How much time do I have?”
“Three hours.”
“Gods, I hate you. Why did you do this to her?”
“Her? Not you?” Hermes asked.
“Of course not me. I’ve been around longer than anyone has a right to be, but Elara, she’s never made it past thirty-five. How is that fair? Why shouldn’t she be allowed to grow old and have a full, beautiful life?”
“Why, indeed.” He wanted to tell Tripp he was close, but Trickster magic transformed over time. The last three hundred and fifty-plus years had made it unstoppable, giving the boots life. “You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or you can get your ass up to the summit. You know what to do.”
“You said commitment. But what you meant was a personal sacrifice, wasn’t it?” Tripp asked roughly.
“Yes.”
“Fucking fantastic. I’ll leave it for you to explain to Mother why her firstborn son dove into a crater of lava.”
Hermes rolled his eyes. “Do you always have to be so dramatic?”
“Too bad I won’t be around to see her strip the skin from your bones. I might enjoy that,” Tripp taunted.
“Better get going. It’s a long hike. I’ll give Elara your love.”
“You never quit, do you?” Tripp snarled.
“No, and neither should you.”