Garden of Dreams and Desires - Kristen Painter Page 0,2

would set Harlow free. From that room. And from her sister. His hands ached from squeezing them so hard. He relaxed them, flexed all twelve of his fingers and took a deep, cleansing breath.

It didn’t work.

What the hell was Ava Mae doing in that room? If he had to guess, she was learning everything she could about Harlow in order to pass as her more competently. At some point, boredom would set in and Ava Mae would have to come out. He lifted his hand, but used it to knock on the door instead of punching a hole in it. For Harlow’s sake, he would continue playing this damned game and ask the same question he’d been asking every morning. He did his best to soften the frustrated edge in his voice. “Morning. How are you feeling today, Harley?”

Coughing answered him. “Morning.” Some sniffling. “I’m just so-so. Would you have Lally leave my breakfast by the door again?”

As sick as she supposedly was, she hadn’t lost her appetite. “Three days and you’re still not well enough to get out of bed?” He exhaled, pushing his temper down, but anger put words in his mouth. Words that held a threat he should have made a day ago. “I’m getting the doctor over here immediately. You need medical attention before this gets worse. Maybe even a trip to the clinic.”

He heard movement. Feet on the floor.

“That’s not necessary,” she answered. “I’m not that bad. Actually, I think I feel well enough to make it down for breakfast. Let me give it a shot. In fact, a nice hot shower would probably do the trick. I’ll be down soon.”

He grimaced at her lies. “Excellent.” Except now he and Lally had to deal with Ava Mae face-to-face. He jogged downstairs to tell Lally the news.

The housekeeper stood at the stove, stirring a pot of grits. “Morning, Augie. Any word from the devil child or she staying holed up in that room forever?”

“Yes, I talked to her and stop calling her that. She’s coming down for breakfast.”

She stopped stirring, eyes wide. “She’s joining us for a meal?”

“Yes. Did you make enough?”

She snorted softly. “Have you never seen me cook before?”

He grinned. “You’re right. I already knew the answer to that one.” He stared out the kitchen windows toward the pool, his smile fading. Steam lifted the aroma from the coffeepot and made his mouth water, but nothing could dislodge the pit in his stomach. He looked at Lally again. “Remember, it might be Ava Mae talking and running the show but Harlow’s still in there. Somewhere.” And he would find a way to get her out. Eventually.

Lally’s brows lifted. “I hope you’re right. Not that I doubt you, child, but this is one of those things we need to be sure about.”

“I’m sure.” He glanced toward the upper levels of the house. “While under the influence of bourbon and nequam, Ava Mae was subdued enough that Harlow could communicate with me. There is no doubt in my mind that the woman I carried into Harlow’s room three nights ago and put to bed is physically Harlow, but mentally Ava Mae.”

Lally returned to stirring the grits, going very quiet as she turned her face toward the window overlooking the backyard. He poured a cup of coffee, added sugar to it and was about to drink when she made a soft whimpering sound and covered her mouth with her hand. She looked at him. Tears streaked her face. “This is my fault. I never should have told that child about the tree.”

Sometimes he wished neither of them knew. The lightning tree hidden in the center of the house thanks to centuries-old fae magic had caused all of this, but Lally telling Harlow about it didn’t mean it was Lally’s fault. “You can’t blame yourself. Olivia handled it for years and there was never an issue.” If only Olivia were still alive in this world and not trapped on the fae plane. Which reminded him he needed to visit her. Of course, if she were still alive, Harlow would never have come to New Orleans in the first place.

Lally dabbed at her eyes with the edge of her apron. “There was when I first told Olivia.”

“You mean when Olivia attempted to use the tree to bring Ava Mae’s ashes back to life.” Which was how Ava Mae’s spirit had first been freed. The tree had raised Ava Mae’s spirit from infant to adult but Harlow’s act of dumping

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