Page 54 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

Brelenia narrowed her gaze. “I don’t believe I care for your tone, Mary-Alice.”

“I know I don’t,” Payton added. With hands on her hips and the light of battle in her eyes, she stared the mayor down. “How about you try to be a human being and consider other people’s feelings for a change, you miserable heifer?”

“Howdareyou!” Mary-Alice’s outrage was complete.

Brelenia shared an exasperated glance with Florence before clapping her hands. “Enough, ladies. Fighting amongst ourselves will solve nothing.”

Dailey Cobb showed a marked interest in the fireworks between his mother and Payton, and it forced one to wonder if he remained on the sidelines for fear of backlash from bothwomen or if he wanted them to work through their issues on their own.

Brelenia could’ve told him it wasn’t going to happen. Mary-Alice might be a loving mother under her polished exterior, but in her mind, Payton Hawthorne wasn’t good enough for her precious boy. Having been in a similar situation with her middle child, Brelenia understood letting her son make his own mistakes was paramount. Perhaps, when Rainier was put to rest, she’d pull the other woman aside to suggest she exit Dailey and Payton’s relationship. Maybe then the couple might stand a chance.

Peering closer, she spotted the magic she’d previously missed. The air around him was tinged purple, giving Brelenia a strong indication Elara had either purposefully or accidentally cast a spell on Dailey. One that might be difficult to remove since it was enhanced with Trickster magic. It was a wonder that Enguerrand and Hermes had failed to notice it. Granted, they might have, but they had yet to act. Certainly, Enguerrand was preoccupied with Elara. Hermes, as the God of Chaos, may have ignored the spell in favor of the upcoming drama. One never knew with her mischievous nephew.

Filing the information away for another time, Brelenia focused on the unfolding discussion.

“This is everyone’s problem,” Florence was saying. “Why can’t you get it through that helmet-haired head of yours, Mary-Alice?” She flipped open her cigarette case, eyed the Mayor’s hairspray-coated up-do, and snapped the lid closed with a huff. “Might cause an explosion well before Rainier blows her top.”

Brelenia bit the inside of her cheek to hold back her laughter. She dared not meet Hermes’s gaze, or she’d lose control. If he displayed any humor whatsoever, she was what her son called “a goner.”

“Are you going to sit there and let them talk to me like this, Dailey James?” Mary-Alice asked frostily.

Dailey dropped his booted feet from the table and stood. “No, ma’am. That wasn’t my intent. But you’ve never needed me to defend your honor in the past. When you’re all ready to discuss the problem, call me. I’ve rounds to make.”

“Let another of your officers do it,” she ordered. “You’re needed here.”

Indecision was written on his face, and he scratched his jaw with its day-old stubble. “I need a coffee,” he muttered, striding from the room toward the barista.

“Another one bites the dust,” Payton quipped. “Soon, we won’t have anyone in attendance, Mayor. Keep up the charming dialogue.”

“And yet, the only one not contributing anything to this discussion isyou, dear,” Mary-Alice replied with a chilly smile.

If hatred had a look, it was in the one Payton Hawthorne cast her ex-lover’s mother.

Hermes jumped up, casually gripped her arm, wrapped it through his, and escorted her toward the exit. “Come, you beautiful creature. Tell me more about your charming town.”

Although he’d defused the bomb, his departure with Payton sparked another fuse.

“That is precisely why she’s no match for my son!” Mary-Alice sneered. “She runs off with other men at every opportunity. She’s nothing but a who?—”

“Careful,” Florence warned. “That’s my kin you’re disparaging, and I’ll not stand for it.”

“You’re the reason they are as wild and unpredictable as they are, Florence Shaw. If you’d revealed what they were and sent them to be trained in a proper academy, we might not be in this dire circumstance.”

“Sure, and it’s always my fault, isn’t it, you harpy! Maybe if you hadn’t been throwing yourself at Rupert, my Mae might’ve stuck around.”

“Howdareyou!” Mary-Alice exclaimed.

“Oh, get off your high horse, you mad cow! Own up to your mistakes for once.”

Archer Roche sighed and exited the room, leaving Brelenia, the two lifelong foes, and Bohdan Sanderson lurking in the shadows.

“Mr. Sanderson, would you be so kind as to fetch a pot of tea while I speak to these ladies?” she asked, casting her most encouraging smile. “You’d be a dear if you would.”

Humor brightened his sharp gaze, and he strode away. Before exiting, he turned back and ascertained her favorite before continuing his mission.

The instant he was gone, Brelenia flicked a finger to shut the door behind him, then turned to face the bickering town leaders. She tapped her fingernail against her teeth as she considered her options. Sure, she could freeze and force them to behave, but it would solve nothing. They needed to work together for the good of the community and, eventually, Payton and Dailey.

“Ladies,” she called, hoping to gain their attention. She failed. With an irritated sigh, she shut her eyes and summoned her ability to influence others. When she had a handle on the power, she considered the words to convey what she intended and wove them into her short speech. “You will shelve this unnecessary argument until the threat has passed and Witchmere is once again safe, do you understand?”

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