Garden of Dreams and Desires

by Kristen Painter

  “For once, the Prime and I agree on something.” Hugo Loudreux was the leader of the fae Elektos but even his position as Prime didn’t give him authority over the Guardian. In theory, they were supposed to work together, but Loudreux hadn’t been in favor of Augustine becoming the Guardian and as such, made his life as difficult as he could whenever possible.

  “I hope that means you’ll give this some real attention.”

  Augustine sat back, his fingers on the handle of his coffee mug. It took a lot to rile Fenton. This was obviously serious. “I will. We’ll find her son.” Eventually. He still had Harlow’s needs at heart. “Grantham have any leads?”

  “Not on Robbie, no, but he does have an eyewitness who thinks she saw one of the missing tourists talking to Zara Vincent at the farmer’s market.”

  “If you’d told me Giselle, I’d think it meant something, but Zara’s the harmless one, isn’t she?”

  Seeming slightly calmer, Fenton shrugged. “She’s never done anything to put a blip on the radar.”

  “Although now that her sister is the high priestess of the New Orleans Coven, maybe she’s decided the time is ripe to make a move.” His brain kept processing. “Or she could be working with Giselle.”

  Fenton lifted his hand. “To what end? Giselle makes her money telling fortunes in Jackson Square. I know she’s got private clients that pay her a lot more, but those tourists are her bread and butter. I can’t imagine her doing something that could possibly scare them away.”

  Augustine shook his head. “But as high priestess, she’s now on the coven’s payroll. I’m sure she’ll keep her private clients but I can’t see her wallowing with the unwashed masses in Jackson Square anymore.”

  Fenton lifted one finger. “Ah, but she has been. We’ve had eyes on her.”

  “Interesting.” Augustine wrapped his hand around his mug but the coffee had gone cold. He let it go. “Almost as much as the fact that theirs is the one name that’s been connected to this new issue.” He sighed. “Talking to Giselle never does any good. I can’t imagine talking to Zara would be any different.”

  “Agreed. Leave that to Grantham. Right now we have Harlow to think about.”

  “And finding Robbie.” But finding that party boy was only peripherally on his radar. No matter how bunched up Prime Loudreux was. Harlow was his sole concern. Augustine pushed his chair back and stood. “If anything comes of the talk with Grantham’s grandmother, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. And I’ll tell Grantham he’s got our cooperation, but my involvement is going to be minimal until Harlow is herself again.” The thought of another day passing and Harlow still held prisoner in her own body shot a sense of helplessness through him, a feeling he hated more than anything.

  Fenton nodded. “I understand.”

  Augustine turned and strode out of the war room and down the hall toward the crypt’s exit. Paying a visit to his mother, even under the guise of helping Harlow, would be worthless. Unless he commanded her to help.

  As Guardian, he had the right to require any fae citizen of New Orleans to assist him. But as her son, he also knew that such a command would destroy her. She would be forced to face her fae heritage, the only thing she hated more than her own son.

  He shut the crypt door behind him, blinking for a moment in the brightness of the clouded sky.

  There was no question in his mind as to his decision if things got that desperate.

  Harlow would always come first.

  Chapter Two

  Ava Mae couldn’t stop smiling. The money she’d found in the duffel bag under Harlow’s bed was stuffed into her purse. At least eight thousand dollars’ worth of new, slippery plastic bills. They’d go a long way toward jazzing up her sister’s boring wardrobe.

  It’s not boring, it’s practical. And you have no right to that money.

  Blah, blah, blah. All black is super-boring. Almost as boring as the whining you’ve been doing about this all morning. I’m doing you a favor by spending this money on something worthwhile. Now, let’s try to have some fun, shall we? Ava Mae laughed. Well, at least I will. She ignored the rest of Harlow’s comments, letting her simmer below the surface while Ava Mae poured herself into the task of shopping. It turned out to be one of her talents. In less than two hours, she’d spent nearly half the cash and loaded herself down with shopping bags, divesting the boutiques in the Quarter of their prettiest things.

  You have the taste of a preteen girl in love with glitter and kittens. If you think Augustine’s going to be attracted to someone who looks like a rainbow threw up on them, you’re wrong.

  Ava Mae shook her head. I know you’re jealous. I would be, too, if someone else was about to bed that gorgeous hunk of man and force me to watch.

  You are not taking him to bed. Harlow was practically shaking with rage, causing the edges of Ava Mae’s vision to waver. I forbid it.

  Pain shot through Ava Mae’s head, another by-product of Harlow’s anger. She leaned against a building, letting it pass. Calm down, Harlow. Do not make me do something you’re going to regret. But the realization that Harlow was growing stronger struck Ava Mae like a falling brick. She would have to do something more than just carrying around a twig from the lightning tree. She just didn’t know what yet. Killing Lally, her first choice, could cause Harlow to fly into a greater rage. One Ava Mae might not be able to withstand.

  The pain subsided and Ava Mae returned to ignoring her sister. She stopped at a café for hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and beignets. She’d earned it. As she settled into her table, she pulled out the new scarf she’d bought, snapped the tag off and draped it around her neck, distracting herself from the problem of Harlow. The distraction was brief.

  Hideous.

  Shut up. It’s beautiful.

  “Well, now, isn’t that a pretty thing. Very nice.”

  She turned. The man at the table beside hers nodded at her scarf. She nodded back. “Thank you.” See, Harlow? I’ve already gotten a compliment on it. He was a peacock of a man, dressed beautifully in a purple velvet suit, green patterned shirt and blue leather shoes, all topped off with a black fedora sporting a beaded band in the same colors. A few gold rings gleamed on his fingers and around his neck was a black silk cord from which dangled a little red pouch holding who knew what. “You’re very colorful.” She needed more jewelry. She smiled. “I like it.” She stuck her gloved hand out. “I’m Harlow.”

  Liar.

  He laughed and extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Harlow. You can call me Rufus.”

  “Nice to meet you, too, Rufus.”

  An old woman walked by, giving them both a curious look. Ava Mae ignored her. Probably jealous of her new scarf.

  He added three spoonfuls of sugar to his coffee, then a big glug of cream. “Are you visiting our fair city?”

  “No, I just moved here. The city is still very new to me.”

  He pointed his spoon at her pile of shopping bags. “Seems to me you’re finding your way around pretty well.”

  She smiled. “I needed some new things. My old wardrobe was boring and dull.”

  You’re boring and dull. And not long for this world.

  Ava Mae directed her thoughts inward with a hard shove. Sister, dear, you really need to learn not to push me.

  After a small gasp, Harlow stayed quiet.

  He sipped his coffee. “Boring and dull is no good.” His face suddenly came alive. “You know whose style I always admired? Olivia Goodwin. You wouldn’t know her being young and new to town, but now there was a woman who dressed with panache.”

  Ava Mae knew her mouth had come open and didn’t care. “I know who she is.”

  “You do?” He looked shocked, but pleased. “Good for you. Most young people these days seem to have forgotten about the old Hollywood stars—”

  “She was my mother.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “I am so sorry for your loss. My apologies if I’ve upset y
ou by bringing up her name, her having so recently left us.” He crossed himself.

  “No, it’s fine. You just… surprised me.” Ava Mae leaned forward. “Did you know my mother then?”

  A slight smile brought up the corners of his mouth. “I did, but it was rare I got to see her. Those house companions of hers—”

  “Lally and Augustine?”

  He nodded. “They never cared much for me. Said I was a bad influence.”

  If they thought that, he is.

  Ava Mae frowned. “You were a bad influence on my mother? How?”

  He grinned. “I’ll tell you, but if you tell Augustine you’ve met me, he isn’t going to like it.”

  “I won’t say a word.” Anyone Lally and Augustine didn’t like instantly intrigued her. “Tell me.”

  His smile broadened. “I’m what most would call a voodoo doctor. In truth, I am a follower and practitioner of the voodoo religion. Does that scare you?”

  Harlow’s panic turned the taste in Ava Mae’s mouth bitter. Get away from him. Ava Mae blinked, her curiosity piqued by Harlow’s instant aversion to the man. “No. I’ve never met a real live voodoo man before. You’ve just become twice as interesting as you were a minute ago. What did you say your name was?”

  He laughed. “Most people call me Father Ogun. But like I said, you can call me Rufus.”

  “A real voodoo doctor?”

  Rufus nodded. “I guarantee.”

  A jumble of thoughts swirled in Ava Mae’s borrowed brain. A voodoo doctor might know how to silence Harlow for good. Ava Mae didn’t want to lose her sister, but the incessant chatter and constant battles for control of the body wore her down. If there was a way for Ava Mae to be assured of always having the upper hand, she would gladly take it.

  The bitter taste in her mouth remained. Nothing good will come of this. Nothing.

  Ava Mae pointed. “What’s that little pouch on your necklace?”

  His hand went to the small red sack. “That’s my gris gris bag. Brings me luck. Keeps me peaceful. Draws good things to me.” He glanced at it, then at her. “Maybe you’re one of those things, hah?”

  She smiled, thinking the same thing. “Maybe I am. Could you make one of those for me? Something that would protect me from those trying to harm me?”

  Concern creased his face. “Of course, but my dear child, who on earth would want to harm you?”

  She’d already been gone so long from the tree and even though she had a piece of it in her bag, she still felt uneasy at being away too much longer. She bit her lip. This wasn’t an opportunity she could afford to lose. “I have to get home soon. Maybe we could meet again? I’d love to talk with you some more. Ask your advice on a few things.”

  He splayed his fingers against his chest. “I would be honored to help you out in whatever way I could. I’d be pleased to meet you again. Let’s make plans, shall we?”

  Augustine followed Detective J.J. Grantham into his grandmother’s house, a neat and tidy single story. Here and there were a few signs of her voodoo involvement, but it was nothing like Father Ogun’s overwhelming collection. And instead of the powerful stench of incense, the warm embrace of freshly baked cookies greeted them. If this was the other side of voodoo, he could get real comfortable with it.

  Grantham called out, “Mawmaw, it’s J.J. and I’ve got that friend with me I told you about.”

  “In here, baby.”

  They followed her voice into the kitchen. J.J. kissed her on the cheek, then introduced Augustine. “Mawmaw, this is Augustine Robelais. Augustine, this is my grandmother, Queen Jewelia Grantham.”

  Augustine offered his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Queen Jewelia.” Grantham had prepped him on queen being the appropriate title for a woman of her position in the voodoo religion. “But you can’t be Detective Grantham’s grandmother. You barely look old enough to be his mother. More like his sister, I’d say.” None of which was a lie. The woman before him had flawless mocha skin, hair as thick and black as any he’d seen, and she held herself with the perfect carriage of youth. All of it seemed proof of her skills as a mambo.

  She smiled and before shaking his hand, wiped hers on the apron covering her long blue dress. “If you’re trying to sweeten me up, J.J. has already told me to cooperate. But feel free to continue.” She laughed. “Lally Hughes taking good care of you?”

  “Better than you can imagine.”

  Queen Jewelia nodded knowingly. “You boys want some coffee? I just fixed a pot to go with the cookies.” She pointed at her stove, where trays of chocolate chip cookies sat cooling.

  “I’m in.” Grantham took a chair at the kitchen table. “Especially because I know you made those cookies for me.” He looked at Augustine. “I’m her favorite grandchild.”

  She waggled a finger at Grantham. “Now, don’t go starting things or I’ll move you down the list.”

  Augustine sat also. “Thank you very much. I never turn down a good cup of coffee or a homemade cookie.”

  She stopped pouring coffee to smile at him. “You fae like sweets, don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am, we do.”

  She went back to filling cups. “I don’t know many of your kind. None, really. We don’t tend to mix, do we?”

  “No.” He hoped that wasn’t a point of contention for her.

  She brought the coffee over on a tray with cream and sugar, three folded white cloth napkins and a big plate of cookies. “Help yourself.”

  Grantham reached for a cookie and she smacked his hand. “Guests first, Jeremiah.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Grantham made a face at Augustine as if to say, “You see what I grew up with?”

  Augustine nodded, smiling more than was probably wise, and took his coffee. Grantham was a former lightweight championship boxer. Seeing him cow to his grandmother gave Augustine hope for the world.

  She sat between them and helped herself to coffee.

  The cookies were warm, but Augustine had too much to say to eat the one waiting on his napkin just yet. “I really do appreciate you seeing me on such short notice. Especially since this is a fae matter and not something you’d normally be concerned about.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” She stirred sugar into her cup. “J.J. tells me there’s a young woman’s life in the balance here. If she wasn’t one of yours, would it matter to you who her people were?”

  “No, ma’am, but the fact that she is someone close to me makes it more pressing.”

  “I can understand that.” She set her spoon down and looked at him. “Tell me what I can help you with.”

  “Olivia Goodwin’s daughter, Harlow, has been… possessed by the spirit of her twin sister, Ava Mae. I don’t know if it’s an important detail, but her twin was murdered by their father not long after she was born.”

  Jewelia nodded but didn’t act like anything he’d just told her was that unusual. “Could be. Some murdered spirits have a lot of anger in them. A lot of desire to do the things they were robbed of doing.”

  “That sounds like Ava Mae, but she was killed when she was an infant. Would she remember any of that?”

  She paused a moment. “That wouldn’t seem likely, but then the spirit world doesn’t always follow the paths of what makes sense and what doesn’t. You sure your friend is still in there?”

  He broke the cookie in half. “I know Harlow is still there, but Ava Mae has completely taken over and is somehow keeping Harlow suppressed. If you have any ideas how to get Ava Mae out without hurting Harlow, I would be in your debt.”

  She took a long, slow sip of coffee as if considering the usefulness of having a fae she could call upon for a favor. “I might be able to help.”

  “Thank you.” Relief flooded Augustine. He popped a quarter of the cookie in his mouth. As delicious as expected.

  “I have a few more questions.”

  He nodded. Grantham was reaching for his third cookie.

  She shot Grantham a look. He took the cookie anyway. Frowning, she l
ooked at Augustine. “How long has Ava Mae possessed Harlow?”

  “About four days.”

  “That’s good. Not too long then. Too long and spirits latch on. Grow roots.” She nodded like she was thinking. “Who raised the spirit?”

  “Harlow.”

  “How?”

  Augustine hesitated. “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

  “How did she bring the spirit into the mortal world? What kind of magic did she use? Fae magic? Witchcraft? Voodoo?”

  “I… don’t know.” He couldn’t tell her about the lightning tree. That was a sworn secret. But he also wasn’t sure what kind of magic that was. “Natural magic?” He shook his head. “This is out of my area of expertise, I’m sorry.”

  Her gaze lingered on him a long while before she turned to Grantham again. “J.J., be a dear and give us a minute alone.”

  He stood without argument, almost like he’d expected it. “I’ll be in my car. I have a few calls to make anyway.” He grabbed one more cookie, then looked at Augustine. “We still need to talk when you’re done.”

  “I promise it’ll happen before I leave.”

  With a nod, he walked out.

  She waited until the front door closed. “Lally Hughes made you promise not to tell, didn’t she?”

  “Why would you think Lally had—”

  “It was the tree, wasn’t it?”

  He sat there, finding no immediate way to answer her. He didn’t want to betray Lally, but Harlow was his first priority. “What tree?”

  She smiled and patted his hand. “It’s all right. I’m not going to tell anyone. That’s why I sent J.J. out. I’m talking about the lightning tree. The one Olivia’s mansion was built around. By your people. But then you know that already, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” There was no point in denying what she already knew. Not if she could help Harlow. “How do you know about it?” Of course, if she’d been fishing, he’d just given her quite a catch.