Page 84 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

“Why are you acting like what I am is a horrible thing? Are you afraid all your bastard children will find you?” Elara taunted.

“Oh, Elara,” her mother cried. “You have no idea.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“There’s no time. You did a bad thing coming here, Elara,” Rupert said, but his scolding tone was at odds with the longingin his expression. Here was a man who loved his daughter, but in her pain, she couldn’t see it.

“Quickly, sir. Tell us what you know.”

“No. Go back to where you came from. Back to…”

“Witchmere,” Elara supplied dully.

“Go back to Witchmere, Elara, and when it’s safe, I promise you I’ll be in touch,” Rupert said, placing a hand on Mae’s elbow.

She jumped up, flung her arms out, and gestured to the sprawling three-story mansion. “And this is safe? A luxurious house on the coast, where anyone can find you? Give me a fucking break.”

Her parents remained tight-lipped and silent.

She’d get no more from them. Her disillusionment was heavy, and Tripp sensed her pain. Secretly, she’d hoped for a reconciliation but was crushed when she didn’t get it. He’d find a way to make it up to her.

After he climbed to his feet, he wrapped her in a tight embrace. Over her head, he met Rupert’s haunted eyes. “Twenty-four hours is all we have left to stop a catastrophic event. If you wish to save your daughters”—he nodded to Mae—“and your mother, return there. Soon.”

The dead-eyed stare Elara cast her parents chilled Tripp to his core. “Hundreds of thousands are at risk. Including those people you know and profess to care about. I won’t say it’s yourfamilybecause you have none. Family doesn’t do what the two of you did.”

“Elara!” Mae gripped her husband’s arm. “Rupert! Do something!”

“Rupert,” Elara scoffed. “It’s not even his real name.” To Tripp, she said, “I’m going home to evacuate Witchmere if I can. You should go back to Messia. Please, save yourself.”

“No, flitter-mouse. If you intend to be at ground zero for the blast, I’ll stand beside you, holding your hand and looking into those gorgeous eyes. Your face is the last I want to see.”

Her face contorted in an effort not to cry, and he offered his waiting arms as comfort.

“Let’s go home, Tripp.”

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 towardNever 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.”

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