Page 63 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

Theirs was the type of good-natured relationship that allowed them to dig at each other without getting salty—for the most part. Until Elara, that was. Tripp discovered he was highly sensitive regarding her. It didn’t sit well that Hermes posed as Hex for the length of time he had or that Elara had adored the beast.

But Tripp did as he suggested, blanking his mind to listen.

“I should get back,” Elara said. “Tripp and I need to resolve the issue of Rainier before it blows.”

“What do you owe any of those people? Have they been kind to you?” Storm asked. There was a hint of snideness to her tone Elara chose to ignore.

“Some,” she said. “But either way, I don’t want it on my conscience.”

“You may go if you wish but remember to frequent the ocean when you can. You must swim often to rejuvenate your nymph cells and feed the magic.”

“I’ll remember. Will you visit me? I’d love for you to meet our sister, Payton.”

“I’d be honored.”

“Um, how do I get to the surface?” Elara asked hesitantly.

“You merely think about your destination, and you’re there.”

“Really? It’s that easy?”

“It’s that easy,” Storm assured her. “Look into the mirror. See Enguerrand waiting for you? Imagine yourself beside him, and there you’ll be.”

And there she was. Tripp was never so happy to see anyone in his life, and he hauled her into his arms, holding onto her like a safety line.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he said roughly. “Between the fever, my mother’s abduction scheme, and Storm taking you to the watery depths of her bay…”

Drawing back, she stared at him in wonder. “Are you admitting to feelings, Tripp Nightshade?”

“Yes.”

And because he couldn’t wait, he kissed her. The action was more satisfying, as if acknowledging his love for her, even if it was only to himself, her touch was transformative and drew him in deeper. She tasted sweeter, the air smelled purer, and his heart was lighter.

“I hate to break up this lovefest, but we need to return to Witchmere,” Hermes said. “We have a volcano to appease.”

Tripp never wanted to part from her, but his cousin was right. He drew away and caressed her kiss-swollen lips with his fingertips. “We need to talk. Soon. Just the two of us.”

Expression troubled, she nodded, and he wondered what he’d missed. Had Storm revealed some tidbit of information that would affect their relationship? He hoped not.

“I want to go home,” Elara said. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Wait!” But she was gone, and it occurred to him she’d learned to teleport in the last few minutes. “Shit!”

“She’s a fast learner,” Hermes said, smiling like a proud parent.

“Stuff it.” Picturing her living room, Tripp teleported. But she hadn’t arrived, and his concern ratcheted up. If she had one stray thought in the process, she might be in Timbuktu.

The apartment door opened, and Payton walked in. “Oh, thank the Goddess! I’ve been calling Elara all day. Everyone has been looking for you—where is she?” She charged into the bedroom and, from there, the small bathroom, then returned to glance out the French doors leading to the porch. “Where’s my sister, Tripp?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “She told me she’d meet me here, and when I arrived, it was to an empty apartment. I got here a few minutes before you.” He ran a trembling hand through his hair. “I’m worried, too.”

“We have to find her! Your mother came up with some insane idea to abduct her.”

“Hermes told me. If you give me a moment of silence, I can locate her.”

“How?”

Tripp raised a brow and mimed zipping his lip. Although she scowled, Payton nodded and complied.

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