own cleverness, she sent out another seeking spell, this time to determine where the life source was.
The information it brought back told her whoever was in the house was several floors above her. She smiled and her thoughts turned to the lightning tree, but her smile faded fast. How could there be a tree in this house? It couldn’t be a large tree. She walked through the kitchen and into the foyer, one part of the house she’d been in before.
Her fingers grazed the enormous gilded mirror hanging on the wall. The last time she’d been in this house had been to deliver a list of coven members to Augustine and he’d been fixated on this mirror. She’d sensed some kind of magic about it, but nothing concrete. Could it have some connection to the lightning tree?
She peeked behind it. Just the wall, no secret portal or hidden door. She started past it, walking toward the library, and got the distinct feeling she was being watched. Turning back to the mirror, she looked into it again. Nothing. Except she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to it than a valuable antique. She coasted her fingers along the antique frame. “My father would have loved you.”
Focusing on the task at hand, she left the mirror behind and strolled into the library, the only other room in the house she’d been in. It remained as filled with treasures as the last time she’d been here, including a rare and ridiculously valuable Gutenberg Bible. A single page from that book would bring in a hefty sum. But she wasn’t here for something as fleeting as money.
She wanted proof of the tree.
She searched the rest of the rooms on the first floor, coming at last to a room at the rear of the house. She opened the door and frowned in disappointment. Looked like the housekeeper’s room. She glanced up. What were the chances she could search the rest of the house before the housekeeper found her?
Pretty good if she took the housekeeper out of the picture.
Giselle sent the seeking spell out a third time, adding a small spark to it that she could follow. It floated down the hall and up the stairs. Giselle crept after it. Step after step, the spark led her on until she arrived at the top floor. There was nowhere left to go.
It hovered outside a closed door for a moment, then vanished. The housekeeper was in that room. Giselle put her ear to the door but heard nothing. Was this the housekeeper’s room? Or had she fallen asleep in the attic? Giselle eased the door open, expecting to see the woman dozing in some dusty rocking chair.
Instead, she found Augustine.
He was sprawled on his back in a king bed, a sheet covering most of him and white linens surrounding him like a cloud. She wrinkled her nose at the aroma of smoke that perfumed the space. His scent. The smell of his kind. She studied him. Other than the gentle rise and fall of his chest, there was no movement. The room was certainly not what she’d expected, either. It was a sparse but gorgeous space with an enormous window that looked out over the expanse of the Garden District. Sheers covered it at the moment.
She’d always pictured him in some claustrophobic nook filled with cobwebs and old furniture. How wrong she’d been.
The diffused lighting shadowed his face like bruises. She crept closer to the bed. The marks on his face weren’t shadows after all, but the remnants of what must have been a horrible beating. He had cuts on his brow and cheekbone, healing but still visible, and the end of one horn was chipped off. Apparently, the senator’s team had already been to see him. Or had the police finally found the address she’d planted on the senator’s son? If so, why wasn’t Augustine in custody? If he’d been released because of his position as Guardian… she snorted in disgust, then stilled in sudden panic at the noise she’d made, but he didn’t stir.
Was he unconscious? On a hunch, she leaned over him and inhaled. He was unconscious all right. She straightened. Someone had dosed him with a sleeping potion.
How convenient. She tipped her head. Killing him would be so simple, but really, what would be the point? She’d only be robbing herself of the pleasure of seeing his face when he realized what she’d done to him and all his people.
“You