Page 81 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

As soon as they finished, the pod’s matriarch offered her dorsal fin to surf Elara and Tripp toward the shore.

And that experience was all thanks to one person.

Tripp Nightshade.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

That night, as Elara slept, she dreamed of her future, and beside her was Tripp. The vision gave her hope, and when she woke, it was with a fresh perspective, determination to find her parents, and a solid plan.

Tripp once again came through for her and presented a container of fire-bellied toad turds along with a morning latte.

“Gods, I love you!” she sighed after the first sip.

“You should. I spent the entire night looking for those little turds.”

She giggled. The image of him hunting up the toads and waiting for them to poop was freaking hilarious.

“Laugh it up, buttercup, but you owe me.”

“And I’ll pay up,” she promised. “Afterwe’ve soothed the savage beast, or in this case, volcano.”

“Don’t think I won’t hold you to it,” he warned, but there was laughter in his incredible eyes, and she wished she could get lost there rather than do what she had to.

“We need a location large enough to cast a circle. I think it will have to be either the back room ofWily Witchesor the bookstore’s attic,” he said.

If Elara had a choice, she’d go with the coffeehouse. “I’m not sure I should tell Flo. I don’t want to open old wounds.”

“I’ll call the owner and see what I can arrange.”

That had been two hours ago, and the scrying spell had been surprisingly easy. It had only required a pin-prick of her blood.

Now, here she was, standing with Tripp and accepting his comforting touch as she gazed at an impressive twenty-million-dollar beach house perched atop the three-story high natural dunes, with a single sandy path leading to the beach.

Her parent’s home.

They’d teleported twenty minutes ago, yet she was locked in place, unable to find the courage to confront them. The two individuals who should’ve been her staunchest supporters. Who should’ve fought to keep their small family together, whatever it took. But who didn’t care enough to.

The outside of their home was decorated with twinkling white LED lights and varying shades of teal Christmas decorations. Beach-themed ornaments lined the silver garland.

Elara wanted to rip the freaking legs off the fake, bleached-out starfish and crack open the plaster sand dollars. Payton would have.

“My parents are in there,” she said for what felt like the hundredth time. Her throat felt thick and scratchy. She’d dug into online records after she’d located them, searching for anything to indicate she had the correct couple. They’d lived here for the past seven years and, with their money, could’ve easily found Payton and her. It wasn’t as if she and her sister had cloaked themselves as their parents had.

“I’m sorry,” Tripp said.

“For what? That my parents are selfish pricks?”

He kissed her temple. “Let’s hear their side of the story, flitter-mouse. Then you can shishkabob them over the open flames of Rainier if you want.”

Despite her gut-churning dread, she laughed. “That had better not be your calming influence at play, mister!”

“Nope. It’s my common sense and level head.”

His sparkling, dark eyes glowed with love as he met her searching gaze. It had been this way since their shared experience with the orcas, and theirs was a bond never to be broken.

“We only have today to discover the last three things the boots require,” she said. “We know this is one, but I can’t figure out the other two.”

“How about we scratch this off our list and clear our minds for whatever’s left,” he suggested.

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