Garden of Dreams and Desires

by Kristen Painter

  Taking the senator’s son had created exactly the pressure and distraction she’d hoped. Augustine’s patience was thin. He could be pushed even further with a little more effort. But all she really needed to do was leak a little misinformation to the right sources and he’d have his hands too full to bother her and her sister until it was too late. Not to mention she was about to double his stress by making his little girlfriend disappear, too. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Yes.” His eyes sparked with dark intent. “You witches are a boil on the ass of this town.”

  “A thorn and a boil?” She clutched at an imaginary set of pearls. “You know how to cut a girl to the quick.” She dropped her hand. “Funny, I feel the same way about the fae.” The sawing started again, this time from somewhere upstairs. She narrowed her eyes at him. “So I read the kid’s fortune. That’s not a crime.”

  “Maybe it should be.”

  She scowled at him. “I had nothing to do with him going missing. If he’s the senator’s son, maybe you should figure out who her enemies are and start there. But that list certainly doesn’t include me.”

  He shook his head, the anger in his eyes building.

  She spoke before he could, trying to look as innocent as possible. “I get that you have a job to do, but do it somewhere else. Not only does this not involve the witches, but I’ve got nothing to do with it. I’m a little busy with running the coven, which is more work than I anticipated. On top of that, I’m trying to fix up my dad’s house and live my life. I’m tired of all this bad blood between the witches and the fae. If I hear anything, you’ll be the first one I contact.”

  The anger in his eyes died a little, but his scowl stayed put. “You do that.” He dug out his LMD again and glanced at the screen. Something was flashing. A message. Thank the goddess someone else needed him. He looked at her. “Today’s your lucky day. I have more important places to be. But don’t think for a second I’m not watching everything you do.” With one last glance, he strode out.

  He was going to have a hard time watching her when the senator was watching him. She went to the window, waiting until his car pulled out of the drive before she acted. Ian would be halfway to Zara’s by now. She’d pick him up when she passed him. She grabbed one of the construction walkie-talkies off the makeshift table and yelled into it. “Trent!” No immediate response. “Trent, where the hell are you?”

  “Right behind you, Ms. Vincent.”

  She turned to see the foreman she’d hired, some beefy kind of varcolai, but what kind of shifter he was exactly, she couldn’t tell. Maybe wolf? Bear? Who knew. Who cared. He was a foot taller and wider than she was and as dark as one of the Houma tribe, which he probably was. “Trent, I have to leave, but that doesn’t mean anyone gets to slack off. This job is running behind and I—”

  He frowned, his gold eyes judging her. “It wouldn’t be running behind if you’d stop changing things. My men are hard workers and fast, but that only goes so far when they have to start from scratch on something because you got a new idea.”

  Today was not her day. “It’s my house. My money. And you work for me. I’ll have all the new ideas I want, understand?”

  He smiled like he was staring at a petulant child. “Completely, but you can’t expect us to keep the same work pace.” His smile disappeared. “Understand?”

  “I could replace you tomorrow.”

  This time he laughed. “I’m not so sure about that. I’m the third foreman you’ve had in less than two weeks. The union probably won’t send you any more.”

  She snarled at him, grabbed her bag and stormed toward the garage. “I better see progress by tomorrow.” She slammed the door behind her for good measure and stalked to her white Mercedes sedan, something else she’d inherited from Evander. Once inside, she took out her LMD, fired up the app that would make her number untraceable and her voice unmatchable, then dialed the number she’d been holding on to for just this occasion.

  It rang twice. “Senator Pellimento’s office.”

  “The senator’s son was kidnapped by the fae Guardian of New Orleans, Augustine Robelais.”

  “Who is this?”

  “The Guardian plans to kill the senator’s son in retaliation for the anti-othernatural bills she’s pushed through.”

  “Give me your nam—”

  Giselle hung up and smiled. That should keep Augustine occupied. She peeled out of the driveway and headed for Zara’s. A few minutes later, she spotted Ian on the sidewalk. She pulled over and unlocked the car so he could jump in.

  He climbed in and shut the door. “What did Augustine want?”

  “Nothing, just to hassle me. You know how the fae are.” Ian and Zara didn’t need to know that the missing tourists had become an issue. The senator’s son was her own little insurance plan. One that had just been put into place.

  She stomped on the gas and threaded through the remaining streets until she pulled into Zara’s drive. “Ogun should be here any moment.”

  Zara opened the front door as they were getting out. “I got Ian’s text. What’s going on?”

  “I had to divert Ogun because Augustine showed up at the house.”

  Zara’s eyes rounded in panic. “What did he want?”

  “Coven business. Some issue with registrations. Nothing to worry about.” She made herself smile as she and Ian entered. “Are we ready for two more souls?”

  Zara took a breath and nodded, but the tension didn’t quite leave her face. She shut the door. “Yes, I’ve prepared everything.”

  Ian shucked his leather jacket. “If we added Ogun now, that would only leave us three more to go.”

  “No,” Zara said. “We should be even more cautious than before if Augustine is poking around.”

  Giselle held her temper. Her anger wasn’t at her sister anyway; it was at that damn fae. “I told you it had nothing to do with the souls we’ve already collected. There’s nothing to worry about. In fact, if his constant presence is a sign of anything, it’s a sign we should cast the spell as soon as we can. I’m fine with adding Ogun now and collecting the rest of the souls ourselves.”

  “I’ll bring you three tonight, if you want.” Ian’s sly smile warmed Giselle’s belly. “Bourbon’s full of drunken idiots just looking to get lost.”

  “Then it’s settled.” Giselle nodded. “We add Ogun now and Ian supplies us with the last three we need.”

  Zara twisted her hands together. “I don’t know.”

  Giselle grabbed her sister’s hands to keep her from knotting them together anymore. “Zara, the sooner we do this, the sooner we’re free. We have the sigil. There’s nothing to stop us. Think about it. The power we’ve been forced to restrain because of the fae laws could finally be let loose. The city would swarm with witches if they knew they could live here with one of their own in power. No rules, no registrations, no restrictions. We can own this city the way our ancestors once did.”

  The light in Zara’s eyes strengthened. “I know you’re right. I’m just… I’m a little scared. Not of the fae, but of casting this spell.”

  “That’s natural. After what happened to Mother, how could either of us not be afraid? At least a little.” Giselle squeezed her sister’s hands. “This time is going to be very different. We’re prepared and we’re stronger. And we’re going to succeed.” She wanted to say more, but the doorbell rang. “That’ll be Ogun. I’ll get it since he knows me.”

  She ran to the door and opened it. There stood Ogun in one of his usual outlandish getups. Harlow stood beside him, her eyes wide but full of hope. Her fingers wiggled. “Hello. Rufus said you could help me.”

  Ogun pointed his hand at Harlow. “Giselle Vincent, this is Harlow Goodwin, my friend that I called you about? She’s in need of your particular brand of help.”

  “Ah, yes, please, come in.” Giselle motioned toward the interior of the house, watching Harlow for any indication that the woman remembered Giselle from the time she’d read Harlow’s f
ortune. So far, nothing. “Any friend of Father Ogun’s is a friend of mine.” She stood to the side until they’d entered the foyer, then shut the door and led them into the living room, where Zara and Ian awaited. “Father Ogun, my sister Zara and our paramour, Ian.”

  Ogun stopped in the hall. A bead of sweat trickled down from beneath his hat. “Why are they here? You didn’t say they’d be here.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “When I said to meet me at my sister’s, did you think she wouldn’t be home?” She tilted her chin down and smiled. “What’s the matter, voodoo man? The presence of three powerful witches make you uncomfortable?”

  “No.” He straightened, putting Harlow before him slightly. “Harlow, tell them about your… situation.”

  Harlow’s shoulder jerked, pulling out of his grasp. “Why am I—” Her eyes rolled back for a moment, then she shook herself and put her hands out. “Did you see that?” She pointed at herself, then to Giselle. “For reasons I don’t care to explain, I do not have full control of this body. Rufus said you could secure me inside it. Possibly get the other soul inside me out. I want you to use your magic to do that now. So I can be who I really am. Ava Mae.”

  Giselle held her hands up. “Ava Mae, hmm? What you’re asking is no small task but not impossible. It’s a good thing there are other witches here. As this is my sister’s house and she is a green witch, we’ll go to the garden and prepare the necessary things. Her garden is a magic place with the capacity to grant dreams and desires.” She looked at Ogun. “You will wait here until we’re ready. Understood?”

  “Yes.” He made a face and shifted nervously, his hand coming up to rest on the little red pouch hanging around his neck.

  She turned before he could see the smile on her face. He should be nervous. No matter what voodoo he’d done to protect himself before coming here, he was about to die.

  The iron cuffs bit into Augustine’s wrists like bone saws. Every nerve in his body hummed with low-level pain, but the worst was that the iron made it impossible for him to shift into either of his shadeux or smokesinger forms. Which was no doubt exactly why Pellimento’s recovery team had clamped them on him after they’d dragged Grantham off to another part of the warehouse where the team had set up their headquarters.

  The attack had happened so quickly, Augustine had to wonder if some of the team weren’t secretly othernatural. Of course, if they were, it shouldn’t have taken seven of them to get the cuffs on. None of them smelled like varcolai or vamps, either.

  The leader of the team, a man named Sutter, cracked his knuckles. Blood crusted at the corner of his mouth where Augustine had landed his last punch. “Now that you’re feeling a little more cooperative, someone would like a word with you.”

  From out of the shadows walked a slip of a woman, her short gray hair and wire-rimmed half spectacles giving her the appearance of a very stern grandmother.

  Augustine stared at her. “I was wondering when you’d show. Call your dogs off or you can forget getting any help from me.”

  Senator Pellimento smiled. “Is that any way to talk to the woman who holds your life in her hands?”

  Augustine popped an incredulous brow. “My life? I think you overestimate your power, lady.”

  Her smile turned into a menacing grimace. “I could say the same about you, Guardian. Where is my son?”

  “How am I supposed to know? We just started looking for him. We have some leads but nothing—”

  “Again,” she said, motioning to Sutter.

  Sutter’s fist connected with Augustine’s jaw.

  Fresh blood spilled across Augustine’s tongue. He spat out a mouthful of it. “Really? This is how you want to do this?”

  Pellimento tugged on leather gloves, then took hold of one of Augustine’s horns, forcing his face up to look at her. “I know you took my son. If you don’t give him back to me, alive, I will cut one of these off and shove it into your heart.”

  He jerked his head away, ripping the horn out of her grip. “I don’t have your son. I didn’t even know who he was until a couple of days ago.”

  “Liar!” she screamed, sending droplets of spittle across his face.

  Rage smoldered in his belly, sending wisps of heat through his bones. With the shackles on, there was no outlet for it, making him wonder if a smokesinger had ever spontaneously combusted. “Why would I take your son?”

  She tipped her head. “Don’t play coy with me. We both know there are many reasons you’d want to hurt me.”

  “You mean because you’re a bigot?”

  “You and all those like you are an abomination. You’re unnatural. You should be exterminated.”

  This time he smiled. “You know I’ve got a little human in me. There’s a very good chance you’ve got a little fae in you.”

  She slapped him but the blow barely made an impact. “If my son isn’t returned to me by this time tomorrow, I will have the governor, who owes me a wealth of favors, declare martial law and lock this city down.”

  He tsked. “The tourism board isn’t going to like that.”

  “You have twenty-four hours.” She snapped her fingers at Sutter. “Give him a taste of what will happen to him if my son isn’t standing beside me tomorrow.”

  As she walked away Sutter rolled his shoulders like he was loosening up for a big fight. “I’ve been looking forward to this, fae.”

  The remainder of the team lined the perimeter of the gloomy space, assault weapons at the ready. What exactly did they expect to happen? Augustine glared at Sutter. Too bad fae powers didn’t include death by thought. “You don’t get out much, do you, human?”

  Sutter’s stony face didn’t move. “You’re going to regret your involvement in the disappearance of Robert Pellimento.”

  “I already told the senator I have nothing to do with—”

  Sutter’s fist connected with Augustine’s jaw. Pain ricocheted through his skull. He hoped Grantham wasn’t taking the same kind of beating. Humans didn’t have the same kind of resiliency that fae did, but then, Grantham had done his time in the ring. If anyone knew how to take a punch, he did.

  Sutter leaned in. “If the fae didn’t bring tourists to this town, Senator Pellimento would have run your kind out of here a long time ago. Now tell me what you know about her son’s disappearance, or I’ll introduce you to another more intimate pair of iron shackles.”

  The guy apparently had a hard-on to please his boss. Maybe there was more going on between Sutter and the senator. As gross as that thought was, Augustine managed a grin. “I pegged you for the kinky type as soon as I saw you. Is that how the senator likes it?”

  Sutter punched him again. “Tell me what you know.”

  Augustine spat blood onto the concrete then sighed like he was bored. “I already have. Robbie was last seen getting into a cab. Based on what Grantham found out on our way over here and what I suspect he’s already told you, the cab company has no record of the fare.”

  Sutter growled and leaned in. “I don’t like your kind any more than Senator Pellimento does.”

  “Really? I never would have guessed.” A chime rang through Augustine’s head. Sturka. Not the best time for an incoming call. “Answer,” he mumbled.

  “Boss, you’d better get here now. Something weird is about to go down.” Cy sounded rattled, a rare thing for the big fae.

  Sutter barked in Augustine’s face. “Did you just take a call while I’m talking to you?” He shoved Augustine’s head back.

  Augustine ignored Sutter. “Cy, are you at Ogun’s?”

  “No, boss. He took her to—”

  Sutter slid his fingernail beneath the com cell stuck behind Augustine’s ear and flicked it away.

  Heat waves edged Augustine’s vision, narrowing his line of sight until Sutter’s ugly face was all he could see. He unclenched his jaw enough to speak and lowered his voice. “There is one thing I forgot to tell you.” He made his voice even quieter. “One… very… important… thing…�
��

  “What?” Sutter leaned in to hear.

  Augustine rammed one of his horns into Sutter’s forehead. Blood poured from the split. With a howl, Sutter jerked his arm back and threw another punch at Augustine. He ducked, causing Sutter’s fist to connect to the steel pole behind Augustine. Bones crunched.

  A few of the team members rushed toward Augustine. Rifle butts slammed into his head and body. Blow after blow rained down, cracking bone and causing pain until everything went black.

  Chapter Nine

  Harlow drew on whatever strength she could muster. Without knowing exactly what was about to happen, she didn’t know how to prepare for what lay ahead. Except to expect something really, really bad.

  Ava Mae had nodded and gone along with whatever Ogun and the witches told her to do and now stood in the garden quietly waiting, but Harlow wasn’t so easily fooled. She knew why Ava Mae was here. To get rid of her. Fear almost numbed Harlow to the point of inaction, but she gave herself over to her anger instead and clung to the fact that Augustine had promised he knew what Ava Mae was planning and that he’d protect Harlow.

  Any minute, he’d show up. Any minute, he’d make everything right.

  But the minutes were ticking by and there was no sign of him. Or anyone who might help her.

  She steeled her entire being, such as it was, and geared up to fight in whatever way she could, waiting and watching for some kind of opening, some chance to make her move.

  After some final preparation, Giselle’s sister, Zara, and the sorcerer Ian positioned themselves around a large pond in the center of the garden. Giselle gestured to the stone path beside her. “Come stand with me, Ava Mae.”

  Ava Mae looked at Ogun. He nodded, encouraging her. Idiot. But Harlow restrained her temper so as not to give Ava Mae any indication of what she was feeling, saving it for the moment she’d need to strike. Ava Mae took her place beside Giselle.

  Movement pulled at the edge of her vision. Everyone turned to look as a nondescript man vaulted over the high wall surrounding the property. Human, maybe. Except Harlow didn’t think humans could jump like that or move with that kind of speed or agility.