Page 64 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

Shutting his eyes, he tuned in to Elara’s unique energy and sighed in relief. “Across town. She’s speaking with Harrison Cobb.”

“One day, you’ll have to tell me how you do that.”

“I will. More importantly, I’ll show you when you come into your power.”

She opened her mouth to speak but shook her head and stalked toward the door.

“It’s faster if we teleport. Hold my hand.”

They arrived in the alley across the street from Harrison’s office building. From his vantage point, Tripp could see Elara inside, her arms flailing as she spoke. Other than the occasional startled expression, the therapist nodded and let her vent.

And vent, she did. Thanks to his new ability to listen in, Tripp heard everything and had mixed emotions about what he should do.

“I’ll leave you here,” he told Payton. “Your sister has much to tell you.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the lake. I need to think without everyone in my business.”

Elara exited Harrison’s office to find Payton loitering on the bench outside. She was chewing her fingernail with a restless energy that screamed high alert.

“Payton? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Elara!” Her sister hugged her so tightly that Elara had difficulty drawing a breath.

“Loosen… up,” she gasped.

“Sorry. It’s just with Brenda of Messing?—”

“Brelenia of Messia,” Elara corrected.

“Yeah, whoever, whatever. She was concocting mad schemes to kidnap you?—”

“Kidnapping is for children. Abduction is for adults.”

Payton glared. “Why the hell aren’t you listening and taking this seriously?”

“Because I don’t care about all that garbage. You and I need to talk. I have a lot to share.” Elara grabbed her hand and dragged her toward theMystic Macarons & Morebakery. If she didn’t eat something soon, she’d grow hangry and set off the fucking volcano out of spite.

The fragrant smell of baked goods greeted them, and her stomach rumbled louder than the last earthquake.

“A coffee and a dozen key lime macarons, please. Add whatever she wants to my order.” She gestured to Payton with her thumb.

“A dozen?”

“Don’t judge. Shit got real.”

“Fair. I’ll have the same, but lemon chiffon macarons, please,” Payton told the cashier.

Other than a raised eyebrow, the bakery worker said nothing and rushed off to fill their order. Once they’d paid and were seated, her sister demanded details.

“What’s going on?”

“Remember the meeting? The fever and all that?”

Payton scowled. “Of course. It only happened this morning.”

“Yeah, right. Sorry. It feels like it’s been a week.” Elara sipped her coffee, devoured a key-lime concoction, and cleared her throat. “We have another sister. A half-sister,” she said.

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