Page 66 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

“I think I’ve figured out what I need to do.”

“Which is?”

“Resolve all my issues. Past and present.”

Payton shrugged. “That shouldn’t be hard, considering how enlightened you are.”

“It might be. Mom and Dad would be on the list, and finding them after all this time could be tricky.” Another stone flared and died out. Excitement built inside her. “That’s it, Payton! That’s the key to stopping Rainier from blowing!”

“I don’t understand.”

“Watch.” With each name she listed, a different stone lit then dimmed. All but two. “I don’t know of any other unresolved situations or relationships,” she said, disheartened she hadn’t figured them all out.

“Harrison might have an idea. And as annoying as I find Florence, she might, too.”

“She’s closed-mouth when it comes to our familial relationship. I won’t count on her for much.” Elara huffed out an irritated breath. “But let’s get in there and hold her feet to the fire.”

Payton’s evil grin didn’t bode well for their grandmother. “With pleasure!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“You know! Start talking!”

Elara’s accusation rang in Tripp’s mind louder than church bells sounding in a belfry. Her upset prompted him to abandon his self-reflection and find her. After narrowing down her location, he popped into the alley beside the bookstore.

Bohdan was already there, in his massive beast form, pacing back and forth with raised hackles. Upon sensing Tripp, he whirled around and snapped his dangerous jaws. A wolf during the daylight hours wasn’t usual, and he was left to assume stronger magic was at play here.

“Hey, Bo,” he said, keeping his voice low and soothing as he eased backward. The last thing Witchmere needed was a feral animal attack. “I’m friend, not foe, remember?”

Shifting rocks alerted him of another presence, and he whirled in time to see Archer, transformed into his gargoyle shape, stomping in his direction.

What the hell was going on?

A wave of unsettling fury washed through him.

Not his, but someone with enough power to alter moods and trigger shifters.

Who?

It came to him in an instant.

A Titan.

More specifically,Elara.

“Sorry to do this, fellas, but I don’t have time to rumble with you.”

So saying, he envisioned steel cages rising from the cobbled road, encasing Bohdan and Archer. They might not hold the mighty beasts for long, but it would be enough time for him to calm Elara and have her reverse the enchantment she was unknowingly weaving.

He’d almost reached the door when claws ripped down his back. The searing pain caused him to cry out, and the release of his surprised shout sent out an explosion of energy. Shingles along the rooftops lifted as if fans were performing a stadium wave, and decorative shutters rattled before tumbling to the ground.

Tripp spun back to confront Archer. “I see my cage couldn’t hold you.”

The gaping mouth was nothing more than a grotesque grin, with teeth as sharp as those damned curled claws he’d raked down Tripp’s back. Archer was preparing another attack.

Tripp had two choices: Stay and fight or permanently incapacitate the gargoyle. He hated the second option, but there was no time for the first.

One life or the many.

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