Chapter Twenty-Three
“Stop him!” he shouted at the others. As Titans, Payton’s father and sister had more power in their pinky toes than he did in his entire body.
He bent to check Hermes, who was convulsing.
A lightning strike was instantaneous, and either a person lived or they didn’t.
Burns, heart and respiratory problems, neurological issues, seizures…
all normal, but Hermes was a god. He should’ve been able to absorb the bolt.
Surely he’d believed it, too, or he wouldn’t have jumped in the way, right?
“Don’t,” Greer warned, stopping Dailey from touching him as Archer and Cecil tended to the Trickster. “Whatever she hit him with wasn’t standard electrical lightning.” Her eyes were somber when she added, “She fully intended to kill.”
Payton wanted him dead.
The reality washed over him, and he sat back on his heels, dropping his head in his hands. He’d been too late to retrieve his goodbye letter.
As if to reinforce his conclusion, the breeze carried the paper to him, blowing it upward with a second gust and covering his face. The ink had smeared, making what he’d written illegible, but he knew it by heart. He found no reason for her fury, other than his decision to set her free.
And then it clicked.
Everyone left her, and his perceived defection was the final straw.
“Oh my god,” he whispered achingly. “What the hell did I do?”
“You sent her over the edge to madness,” Florence said scathingly. “You’re as thoughtless and twisted as your damned mother is.”
“I thought I’d make it back in time to stop Archer from giving it to her,” he said lamely. But his actions were inexcusable. He’d broken her heart, crushing her in the worst way possible. “I have to fix this.”
“You’ve done enough, young man,” Rupert snapped. “When I find my daughter and bring her home, you’d better have vacated the area. Because I won’t stop her from killing you.”
“Dad, stop!” Elara shut her eyes as if concentrating, and when she opened them, the world around them had returned to its standard setting.
The blue sky overhead was an affront to the churning emotions inside him. Dailey was left wondering if Payton’s similar emotions were why she had called down nature’s fury, and with it the torrential downpour.
Elara placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Dailey. It’s been a lifetime of rejection for her.”
She approached Archer and Cecil. “Back off, fellas. Let me see if I can remove what she attached to him.”
“No, Elara. Not alone,” her father warned. “Whatever she struck him with wasn’t only Titan magic. She was harnessing Trickster and water nymph power, too.”
As father and daughter worked, it occurred to Dailey that it could be him lying there, had Hermes not reacted as quickly as he had. Would anyone have bothered to try to save him? Doubtful. But what really rubbed salt in the wound was how intent Payton had been to cause his suffering.
Striding into the cabin, he got down what he needed to scry for her: a map of the world, a smoky quartz crystal, candles, and salt for a protective circle. Next, he cleared the table and set out his supplies.
He was going to find her, and when he did, they were going to have a heart-to-heart. No misunderstandings, just the Goddess’s honest truth. And if she still wanted him dead after, well, she’d be doing him a favor. Without her, he was dead inside anyway.
Striding into the bedroom, he withdrew a locket she’d forgotten in her rush to leave him the first time.
It had meant something to her once, and he was surprised she never asked him for it back.
Opening it, he studied the images of them: one from their first date and the other from right after their engagement.
It hurt like fucking hell to look at those pictures, and he’d avoided doing it until now.
Goddess! They were so happy then.
Determined they would be again, Dailey placed the necklace on the table and dangled the crystal above the map.
“By will and love, by pull unseen,
All paths we crossed and ties between,
Bring this man to where you stand,
Lead me true, obey my command.”
The pendant spun in tight circles, landing on nothing. The movement was concerning in itself, but not immediately finding a location was terrifying. He’d always been able to scry with success. Was the dragon’s power cloaking her?
Whipping out his phone, he dialed Tripp.
“Nightshade.”
“It’s Dailey.”
“Yeah, that’s what came up on the caller ID.”
“Wiseass.” Exhaling a steadying breath, he said, “I can’t find Payton. I’ve tried scrying, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have to admit, man, I’m freaking out.”
“Elara said Vorren took her. We’ve already got Cory tracking them.”
He strode to the window.
Tripp was standing beside Hermes and Elara, watching the cabin.
With a frustrated growl, Dailey disconnected and strode outside. “You could’ve told me you were here.”
Although amusement danced in the demigod’s dark eyes, he didn’t outright grin.
“If Vorren took her, it was to save the people here. He’s a royal in Drakoryth, Cobb, and it means he’s very much aware of the need to keep strong political ties to other countries and realms. She’ll be safe, and hopefully, when found, in a better frame of mind. ”
“I have to find her sooner rather than later. I can’t let this misunderstanding remain between us.” He felt exposed, but he was tired of hiding behind duty and quips. “I love her, and the letter was the dumbest thing I’ve done to date.”
Elara rubbed his back as she presented him with the newly dried and restored paper. “It’s not, Dailey. You believed you were setting her free to live her life. You had no way of knowing she’d react badly.”
“But I should’ve expected it. She’s made no secret of how much it hurt when everyone walked away, and there I was, adding to her list of people who didn’t stick.” He ran his hand through his hair and huffed out a breath in frustration. “I’m so goddamn stupid!”
Hermes glanced skyward, a frown on his face. “No meteors in the last few hours. Have you curbed your earth-destroying anger issues, Badge Boy?”
The observation surprised Dailey. With all the drama, he’d forgotten about his ability to light the planet up if he lost his shit. But thinking back over the day, the change had to have happened at the beach. Floating in the water had given him clarity, and his emotions had snapped back into place.
“Maybe I’m cured. For the moment at least. But I’m reserving the right to knock a few people out with rocks.” He glanced at the gargoyles. “No offense.”
Greer, bless her, laughed, and amusement danced in Archer’s eyes. Cecil scowled, making them all aware of who lacked the sense of humor in their group.
“Where did your parents go, Elara?” Dailey asked with a quick glance around.
“To their home. They fear the concentration of energy will bring down the Gods on all of us.”
Made sense. Between gargoyles, dragons, Titans, a Trickster, a demigod, and the least threatening of all, him—a warlock—there was a helluva lot of firepower in a small amount of space.
Too much.
Was it because of them that Payton was able to gain the abilities she had? Was it just a matter of tapping into the collective?
“Hermes, tell me more about those boots.”
“Like what?” The poor guy still appeared disoriented, and with every movement he made, he winced.
Dailey felt for him, but he couldn’t waste time being solicitous when he had to find Payton.
“Would they allow the wearer to channel other beings’ magic? Or maybe pull from the earth’s pool of power?”
The Trickster’s dark brows met as he considered the question. Eventually, he nodded. “Previous to Elara, I’d have said no. But with each incarnation, her mastery grew. Their abilities morphed as well. They’ve consumed a small amount from each owner to take on a life of their own.”
“So it’s possible they influenced her stunt today? Maybe her more explosive emotions weren’t solely her own?”
“No. She was enraged,” Elara said. “I felt it before my father showed up.”
Daily acknowledged her point with a nod. “But the energy manipulation, the glowing blue skin, the desire to kill, that doesn’t seem normal to me.”
“Agreed,” Hermes said tiredly. “It was extreme.”
“How do we resolve the issue if she won’t see reason?” Tripp asked.
Dailey whipped around to stare. “Why won’t she be able to see reason?”
“Elara didn’t at first.” Her fian?e cast her an apologetic glance. “Your emotions ran high.”
“It’s true, but eventually, I came around. Payton will, too.”
Yet Dailey was left to wonder how if she weren’t here to listen to his apology.
“What about a blood-to-blood spell?” he asked. “Would it reach across the realms and bring her back, or us to her?”
“It might,” Tripp replied, but his expression said, ‘No fucking way!’ “I’m not comfortable with Elara donating even a drop of hers. It will make her too vulnerable should anyone obtain it.”
“What about a burn-after-reading clause?” Greer asked, casting a glance at her fellow clan members. “It’s what we used to do ages ago to protect against enemies. It could work for her, right?”
Elara appeared intrigued as she met Dailey’s gaze and nodded.
“How would that work?” he asked. He was unwilling to endanger another, but if Elara were game, he’d try anything to get Payton back.
“It’s built into the spell and will burn up the blood along with the map used to find her,” Archer explained. “But considering she may not be in this realm, it may not work. And any blood spilled on behalf of finding her will simply roll around aimlessly searching for her without relief.”
“So that’s out.” Dailey shook his head as Elara objected. “No. If Vorren took her to Drakoryth, which appears likely since I couldn’t locate her with her necklace, then there’s no point.” He looked at Tripp. “Will Cory take me to Drakoryth if I ask him?”
“No, but I will,” a gravelly voice said.
A sulfurous stench filled the air around, and Dailey almost gagged for the second time today. In his lifetime, he’s seen a lot and smelled even worse. It was doubtful he’d grow used to the overpowering odor whenever these dragons dropped their invisibility cloaks.
“Christ alive, that’s awful!” Elara cried. “You need to carry air freshener with you if you’re going to poison the atmosphere like that!”
The dragon laughed and sidled up to Greer. “And you, woman, do you find my scent offensive?”
“I find your entire species offensive, as well you know,” she retorted with her chin raised in challenge.
Nazek surprised Dailey when he chuckled and blew her a kiss. Color climbed her neck, but she didn’t look away as he continued to stare. The space between the two was charged, and one could almost see the current if they squinted hard enough.
Abruptly, as if he wasn’t just using his archaic brand of flirting on the female, Nazek turned to Dailey, saying, “Are you ready to go, Warlock?”
“Yes.”
“You should conjure protection for yourself. Our kingdom isn’t friendly to those such as you, and breathing will sear the lining of your puny human lungs.”
“He means a gas mask,” Tripp explained, clearing Dailey’s confusion. “But that alone won’t save you.”
The demigod walked the short distance to a nearby tree, broke off a branch, and stripped it. As he strode back, he manipulated the leaves into the shape of a gas mask.
“Ei vitalem sustentationem praebe,” he said before cupping his fingers around it, bringing it to his mouth, and blowing.
Provide him with life support.
A necessary enchantment, but still bone-chilling for Dailey to think of himself needing life support.
Tripp presented him with what looked to be a clear, plastic face covering. “It will convert whatever air their world contains into oxygen.”
“What about Payton? How can she survive there?”
“She’s a Titan, Dailey,” Hermes pointed out. “Her body will always adapt to save itself. Just as her nymph’s half can breathe underwater.”
“Maybe I should go too,” Elara suggested, worry in her expression and tone. “If anyone has a chance of stopping her from killing him, it’s me.”
Dailey handed the protective mask back to Tripp. “Can you charm it to stay on when she tries to rip my face off?”