Garden of Dreams and Desires - Kristen Painter Page 0,55
casters. We’ve done everything right in our preparations and will continue to do everything right. The risk has been minimized.” He smiled broadly and her fears retreated. “An hour after the sun sets, the fae will be running scared and the witches will once again be in control.”
“I hope you’re right. Perhaps I should work on the sigil.” It had to be drawn perfectly. In their blood, on virgin unbleached paper. A single error or wobbled line could throw the whole spell off.
“There is time for that.” He brushed his lips against hers. “You are about to become the Queen of New Orleans, my Lady.”
Despite what she’d been feeling a moment ago, she smiled. “What does that make you? The prince?”
His grin turned wicked. “I would much rather be your consort than your prince. My talents deal with pleasure, not diplomacy.”
“I’m aware of your talents.”
He laced his fingers with hers and brought the back of her hand to his mouth. “Then you should also be aware that they are always at your disposal.”
His warm breath on her knuckles raised goose bumps on her skin. “I am.”
“Are you sure?” He nipped the skin on her wrist, causing a soft moan to escape her lips. “I’m worried you may have forgotten everything I’m capable of doing for you, my Lady.”
“Maybe you should remind me after I smudge Zara’s room.”
“Maybe I’ll remind you first, then we’ll smudge her room together.” He kissed his way to her elbow.
Every pleasure point in her body came alive under his touch. It was hard to remember why she’d even come in here. “I… think that would be okay.”
“It will be more than okay, my Lady.”
She smiled as he led her out of the altar room and down the hall to the guest bedroom, but her attention was pulled briefly toward the closed door of Zara’s room. She sobered a bit as they passed it.
She might as well take her pleasure now. Come twilight, she and Zara could very well suffer the same fate their mother had. Death by chaos magic.
Not even Ian’s willing mouth and skillful hands could erase that thought from her mind.
The kitchen was empty when Harlow came down, but the coffee was brewing and there was a pan of sausages in the oven, so Lally was definitely awake. The only other indicator that Lally had been in the kitchen was that the bag of dirt from the witches’ garden was no longer sitting on the counter where Augustine had dropped it on their way in last night.
Harlow was getting eggs out of the fridge when Lally walked in. “Morning.”
“Morning, Harlow. I was just checking on Augie, but I’ll get to the rest of breakfast now.”
Harlow wasn’t that hungry, but her body needed the fuel. There was too much to do today to run on empty. The smell of the sausages baking was helping her work up an appetite, though. “How’s he doing?”
“Still asleep.” Lally moved to the stove and took out a pan. “Go sit, I’ve got this.”
But Harlow didn’t move. “How can he still be asleep?”
“I made him some tea.”
“Yeah, but the doctor gave him drugs and they wore off in a little over an hour.”
Lally smiled. “The doctor gave him something to help him sleep. I gave him something to make him sleep.”
Harlow suppressed a grin as she took her coffee to the table. “He’s not going to like that.”
“I don’t care.” She started cracking eggs into a bowl. “I’m his elder and a traiteuse. I know what’s best for that boy and right now, it’s to sleep and heal. He’s going to be worthless otherwise, and there’s a war coming.” She stared out the window for a moment. “I can feel it in my blood.”
Harlow cupped her hands around her mug but even the heat coming through the ceramic couldn’t shake the chill of Lally’s words. “I’m sure you’re right. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to prepare for it. I’ve only just learned how to control my gifts beyond the most basic of ways. I’m not sure I’m going to be any help to Augustine when it comes to fighting the witches.”
Whisk in hand, Lally nodded. “I worry about that for all of us. The witches are powerful. Too powerful, I think. And they’ve never had anything but hard feelings for the fae.”
Harlow sipped her coffee, her thoughts spinning through her head faster than she could grasp them. “There’s got to be something we can do. Some way to figure