“Lally and I go way back.” The gleam in her eyes said there was more to that than she was telling him, but he let it go. “I take it you didn’t tell her you were coming to see me today?”
“I didn’t know I was until a few hours ago, so, no, she didn’t know. I’m guessing you’ve known Lally a lot longer than I have. Like a lot longer than most people have.”
She coughed out a laugh, her mouth bending into a sad, funny smile. “You’ve shared with me, so I’m gonna share with you. I’m actually J.J.’s great-great-grandmother.” She lifted her cup to her lips and drank slowly, like she was giving him time to understand what she’d said.
Well, that was interesting. He leaned back a little. “I appreciate you balancing the scales with the exchange of information.” He hesitated. “I’m curious, though… if you and Lally are so alike… it’s just that Grantham said you were sick recently and Lally never gets sick.”
The light in her eyes turned guarded. “I wasn’t sick. Not in the way regular folk are. There are times when I need deep rest. That was one of them. Lally never gets that way for a different reason.”
He got the sense she’d shared more with him than she had with most. “The tree?”
She nodded.
“Thank you for identifying the powder we found as bokura, by the way. I appreciate you helping us with that.”
The relief on her face said she was glad to be on to a new subject. “Didn’t help much, did it?”
“It did, but since we couldn’t link it to anyone…” He shrugged, not wishing to downplay what she’d done but the truth was the truth.
“Damn that Rufus Ogun. It was his, but you’ll never hear me say that outside this house.”
She’d just confirmed what he’d suspected all along, but without her testimony it was worthless. “Why? You aren’t afraid of him, are you? Seems to me you’re more powerful than he is.”
“Hmph.” She shook her head. “Power is one thing. How you use it is another. If there are shades of white and black in voodoo, then Ogun and I are at opposite ends of the spectrum. Everything I do is for good purposes. Ogun doesn’t let such a concern bother him.” She leaned forward. “You know why people think he’s the head of all things voodoo in this city? Because everyone else is too scared to go against him.” She tapped her finger on the table. “That man’s done a serious disservice to our community and all we do is cower.”
“I appreciate that info. I am doing my best to take him down.”
“Do fae have black magic? Because that’s the only way you’re going to rid the world of that man.”
“Thanks for the tip.” Augustine filed that away for later. Time to return to his real purpose here. “Knowing what you do now about how Ava Mae’s spirit was raised by the tree, do you think you can help Harlow? Is there a way to get Ava Mae out without hurting Harlow?”
Jewelia studied him for a few long seconds. “You love her. I see it in your eyes. That’s why I’m going to say this in the gentlest way I know how.” She laid her hand over his. It was warm from the cup she’d been holding. “That tree is bad business. Not evil exactly, but bent toward darkness and if dark magic put that spirit into your friend, dark magic is the only way you’re going to get that spirit out. And I am truly sorry, but that is not something I can be a part of. You might find someone willing to practice that kind of craft but I would be very careful. A spirit like that cannot just be loosed. It must be contained somewhere new or it will wreak havoc on whoever cast it from its home. It might still.”
“What if I destroyed the tree?”
Her mouth quirked up in a sad, strange way. “If that was possible, it would have been done years ago.”
“So there’s no other way?”
“No.”
Her answer sent a deep ache through him, the kind of pain he’d felt when Olivia had lain dying in his arms. “I can’t believe there’s nothing that can be done. I won’t accept it. I won’t give up hope.”
“Good.” She wrapped her fingers around his. “There is always hope.” She let his hand go. “Now listen to me. If Olivia’s daughter is still in there, she may be able to fight her way back out. Surround her with the things she loves. Keep those memories alive. And if you truly love her—”
“I do.”
“Then tell her. Love is a powerful magic in its own right. Give her a reason to want to fight. Something to fight for.”
“If I tell Harlow I love her, the only one who’s going to hear it now is Ava Mae and she’s the last one who needs that encouragement.”
Jewelia’s eyes narrowed and her gaze swept him. “She’s been after you, eh?”
“Relentlessly.”
She nodded. “Girl knows sleeping with you would widen the chasm between her and her sister. Ava Mae must know Harlow loves you. If she could cause Harlow enough hurt, Harlow would most likely retreat and lose whatever hold she has left.” She shook her head. “You must not let Ava Mae know how you feel.”
“I have no plans to, I promise.”
“But Harlow needs to know you love her. It will give her strength, I’m sure of it.”
“I’m all for that, but how?”
Jewelia fell silent. “If you’re willing, I have an idea.”
“I’m willing. Whatever it is.”
She folded her hands before her. “You must use bokura.”
Augustine jerked back. “The same stuff that killed Dreich? No.”
“The powder is only the tool. The one wielding the tool did the killing. A little bokura will put the dominant spirit to rest, letting Harlow come forward. You can tell her your feelings and reassure her that you are doing everything you can to set her free.”
“I don’t know.”
“I am not Ogun. You can trust me.”
The idea scared him, but the reward was worth the risk. “I… am willing to try.” At least that way if Harlow didn’t make it, a thought that tore a hole in him, she’d know how he felt.
Jewelia patted his hand again. “Let me get you some and then I’ll tell you exactly how to use it.”
Chapter Three
Giselle sat with her sister, Zara, in the sunroom at the rear of her sister’s house. Her home had become their informal headquarters, a logical choice considering the plans they were implementing. Ian, one of the coven’s Circle of Thirteen, the council who helped the coven leader rule, lounged nearby.
Since the death of Evander, their father, Ian had become quite a bit closer to Giselle and her sister than the average coven member. She smiled. That had more to do with his willingness to share his prodigious talents than his position in the coven.
A drop of condensation ran down the side of Giselle’s sweet tea. She caught it with her finger and flicked it into the air. “How are things proceeding? I assume that’s what you wanted to discuss when you asked me to come over.” At some point, Giselle imagined their meetings would be held at her new home, previously her father’s house, but that would be a while yet based on the way the remodeling was dragging on. And of course, that garden didn’t hold the same promise as Zara’s.
“It is.” Zara shook her head, the lines around her eyes more pronounced. “Things are proceeding too fast. I want to unseat the fae as much as you do but we have to slow down.” She ran her hand along the arm of the tufted chaise, her fingers worrying the slightly worn velveteen. Zara’s sentimental nature had kept her from replacing anything when she’d moved into their late mother’s Garden District mansion nearly twenty years ago. She had, however, added even more plants, to the point the house looked and smelled like a botanical garden, but then that wasn’t so surprising. Zara was a green witch just as their mother had been. Plants were her source of power.
“I disagree.” Giselle shook her head. Was Zara worried about something? About the danger of the spell? Green witches weren’t typically known for their fearlessness, but Zara was no shrinking violet. She took after their mother, who’d proven herself a warrior in the never-ending battle ag
ainst the fae. “Unless you tell me the pace is going to harm the magic, I see no reason to pull back. We’ve accomplished a lot. We’re so close to being exactly where we need to be.”
“Six souls in three days are too many. It raises suspicion.” Stress cast little lines around Zara’s mouth. Perhaps it was just tiredness. She was bearing the burden of the spellwork. “The spell will never be cast if we’re in jail. Or worse. The fae will destroy us if we’re caught.”
“Which is exactly why we need to continue.” Giselle refrained from rolling her eyes. Patience was difficult when you wanted something so badly. “You’d prefer what, that we cut that number in half? Take only three this week?”
“Three in a week?” Zara looked aghast, her fingers twisting together. “Even that’s too many. One every few weeks. One every month. This pace you’ve set us on is a race toward disaster.” She pushed a flaming red strand of hair away from her eyes. “There’s no reason to proceed this way. Chaos magic is dangerous under the best conditions. Look what happened to Mother. We need to be careful.”
Giselle understood that, but Zara seemed to be stalling for reasons she couldn’t figure out. “Our mother was going it alone. We have the power of three. And careful is fine, but the longer it takes us to set this spell in place, the greater chance the fae have of discovering what we’re about.” Giselle glanced at their third. Ian was beautiful in the dark, dangerous kind of way that made her want to devour him. How nice that her childhood crush, the man her father had kept her from and warned her about, had become such an integral part of her life. His role in their current plan had started as the consecrating of Zara’s garden through the Great Ritual, a way to add another layer of potent magic. But it had quickly turned into something far less lofty. And much more carnal. But they were grown women with no living parents. Hell, she was the high priestess of the coven and Zara was her sister. They could do as they pleased. She raised her brows at him. “What say you?”
As if uncomfortable with the new role of decider that had been laid upon him these last few days, Ian shifted, his answer more of a grunt. Not that the tattooed, pierced, eyeliner-wearing wizard was much of a chatterbox anyway. “Zara’s right. You lose nothing by slowing down.”
Giselle sighed in frustration. Ian was great fun in bed, but that was a small comfort when he was siding against her. She frowned, disappointed in the man she was reluctantly falling for. “The fae have ruled this city—and us—for centuries. I would prefer not to give them a day longer than necessary.”
“I understand that.” Zara’s voice was softer now. “And I feel exactly the same way. But the fae aren’t stupid. And you know they work with the human police. I’m just saying we can’t afford to bring any sort of attention on ourselves.”
If Zara was worried about attention it was best Giselle kept the senator’s son’s identity to herself. To buy herself a moment of thinking time, she stared out Zara’s back windows toward the pond in the garden’s center. Zara had created the water feature in the hole left by their mother’s fatal attempt at the very same chaos spell they were planning to cast. Zara had since created a second magic space there, a well of souls to hold those they were collecting for their own attempt at the chaos spell. “Twelve souls is going to take forever.”
“It’s how it has to be. Three is the sacred number and there are four corners to the sacred circle.” Zara came to sit beside her. “You’ve never had any patience, you know. Ever since you were little. Remember that time Mom was making cookies and you ate all the dough before she could bake them?”
Giselle grimaced. “I was sick for two days afterwards.”
Zara slipped her hand over Giselle’s and meshed their fingers. “This is another one of those times that things have to be done a certain way in order to achieve the outcome you desire. You have no choice but to be patient.”
Reluctantly, Giselle nodded. “I suppose you’re right. But I’m not going to like a single second of the wait.”
“I know.” Zara nudged her hip into Giselle’s and looked toward the dark wizard filling the room with masculine energy. “Fortunately, we have Ian to occupy us.”
He was sprawled in Zara’s leather recliner, his leg over one arm of the chair as if he owned the place. Goddess, he was so beautiful he made her heart ache. He grinned as if he knew exactly how she felt about him. “At your service, ladies.”
“You are reliable.” The best Giselle could do under the duress of forced patience was a half smile. She stood. “I should get to the square and get set up for the day.”
Zara shook her head. “You’re the high priestess of the New Orleans Coven. You don’t need to be reading tourists’ fortunes in Jackson Square anymore.”
“As long as we’re filling the well with souls I do. How do you think I’ve been finding people with little to no family? Luring them here with the promise that they’ll have their hearts’ desire fulfilled is the easy part. You can’t exactly take out an ad for the sort of thing we’re doing.” It was also a good way to make it appear to fae eyes as though nothing had changed with her or the coven. Although the powers that be would know she’d taken over as high priestess, by showing up in the square she hoped they’d think she wasn’t taking her new position with any seriousness.
“True, but slowing down means you could at least take today off.” Zara shrugged. “Besides, I don’t like you out in the open like that. You’re too vulnerable.”
Giselle made a face at Zara. “Vulnerable? From whom?”
Zara’s mouth dropped open. Then her gaze turned angry. “Have you forgotten what Ogun did to you in this very garden? He nearly killed you.”
Ian’s eyes narrowed. “He needs to be dealt with. I’m happy to do that.”
“Agreed,” Zara added.
Giselle huffed out a breath. “You two just complained to me that we’ve had too many disappearances too fast and now you want to add a death to our list of crimes?” She threw her hands up. “I can’t figure either of you out.”
Ian leaned forward, his expression deadly serious. “He’s threatened you. For that, he should be removed. You’re the coven leader now. It’s our job to protect the high priestess.”
“I appreciate that…”
He cocked one brow. “But?”
“No but. I was thinking maybe you and I should pay him a visit. He has to know by now that his attempt on my life failed. He’s got to be expecting some kind of retaliation.” She crossed her arms and settled back. “All this talk about not drawing attention to ourselves has made me think we should put some distance between us and the process of accumulating the souls. Especially if we can get someone else to do it for us.”
Zara frowned. “Are you saying that you’re going to force Ogun to do it?”
Giselle lifted one shoulder. “Why not? I could offer him a truce. He brings us the rest of what we need and we forgive his attempt on my life.”
Zara seemed shocked. “You would do that?”
“Like you’ve both pointed out, I’m the high priestess of the coven now. I have to rise above some of this nonsense or no one will take me seriously. And if Ian goes with me, there’s no chance Ogun will hurt me. Ian is too powerful and too intimidating.”
Ian stood. “I’m game.”
Zara nodded slowly. “If you think he can provide us with the remaining souls without causing us further complications, that would be good. However, I don’t think he can do anything without creating more complications. I also don’t like him knowing what we’re about. What’s to keep him from telling the fae we’re working on a chaos spell?”
“He doesn’t need to know the details. Just that we require a few expendable volunteers.”
Zara sighed. “You’re the high priestess. If you want to do this, I can’t stop you, but I’m not comfortable with it. Ogun isn’t trustworthy under any conditions.” She smiled, but it looked forced. “But perhaps you know him better than I do. And with Ian along, he will see that you have the strength of your
coven behind you.”
“Thank you.” Giselle nodded at Ian. “I want to do this now. Is there any reason you can’t?”
He pulled his LMD from his pocket. “Let me check in at the shop, make sure my evening sitting hasn’t changed.” Ian owned the House of Pain tattoo parlor. It was his business, but the pain he generated was the source of his power. He could also increase another witch’s power with his work as he had when he’d tattooed both Giselle and Zara, giving them a nice bump in their abilities. He put the phone to his ear and walked into the kitchen.
Giselle used the moment to confront her sister. “Is there anything you’re not telling me? Some reason the spell isn’t going to work? Because if that’s the only reason you’re stalling—”
“No, no, everything’s fine.” Zara looked away and sighed. “I just don’t want to borrow trouble. There’s nothing wrong with being cautious and doing things circumspectly.”
“I guess.” Giselle was starting to have her doubts, but for her sister’s sake, she’d let them go.
Zara approached, the worried lines still creasing her brow. “I know you’re taking Ian with you, but I still don’t believe that’s enough to keep Ogun honest. His track record should be enough—”
“Zara, do you think I don’t have a plan? I’m only going to tell Ogun we need five volunteers.”
“But we need six.”
“I know.” Giselle smiled. “But that spot is reserved for Ogun when he’s brought us the last one. That should tie our loose ends up nicely, don’t you think?”
Zara tapped a finger against her bottom lip. “I don’t know. We’ve been careful only to include those who won’t be missed. Ogun’s disappearance will definitely be noticed.”
“And by then, we’ll be in charge of the city once again. A missing voodoo troublemaker won’t matter.”
“What’s to stop him from spilling our plans before he brings us a single soul?”
“Besides fear?” She lifted her chin slightly. “He knows our father has passed and that I’m now in charge of the coven. I’ll tell him he can have an honorary place at every coven meeting if he does this for us.”
Garden of Dreams and Desires Page 4