her head. She knew her words must seem odd. “I mean it. You’re a valuable member of Augustine’s team and I hope we can be friends. Not the kind that just tolerates each other, like we have been, but real friends.”
A huge smile lit Dulcinea’s face. She gave Augustine a look before answering. “You get hit on the head or something?”
“Something like that.” Harlow laughed. “We’re on the same side. We should act like it.”
“Cool.” Dulcinea nodded, the beads in her dreads rattling against each other.
Augustine took off his leather coat and draped it over one of the kitchen chairs, then sat. “As much as I hate to break up this rather interesting moment—which has my total approval, by the way—we have the matter of the witches to deal with.”
Harlow flopped into a chair between him and Dulcinea. “I wish we could just kill them all with fire. My shoulder hurts, I’m still cranky from being arrested and I could eat a horse.”
“I can’t do anything about your shoulder or your crankiness, but Lally made brownies,” Dulcinea said. “You want some?”
“How many ways can I say yes? And actually, that might take the cranky down a notch.” Harlow straightened. “I’m surprised you didn’t eat them all.”
Dulcinea retrieved a pan from the counter. “I did. This is the second batch.” She put the dish in front of Harlow, then took her seat. “Fill me in on the witches? I know Cy’s trapped in their well of souls, but beyond that I’m a little in the dark.”
Augustine explained what they knew as best he could. “Also, Harlow talked to Queen Jewelia—”
“Lally mentioned something about that.” Dulcinea lifted one shoulder. “To be honest, that only added to my confusion. Where does she fit into all this?”
“We went to her for information. She thinks the witches are planning a chaos spell,” Harlow mumbled around a mouthful of brownie.
Dulcinea’s jaw went slack. “A chaos spell?”
Augustine nodded. “You know about that?”
Her chest rose and fell with a long breath. “I do. Some. Enough to know that it’s not something you mess around with. That kind of magic goes wrong and there’s no recovering from it. Because you’re dead.”
Augustine snagged one of the brownies. “Fenton told us that’s what Vivianna Vincent—”
Dulcinea held her hand up. “Giselle and Zara’s mother, right?”
“Yes. That’s actually what killed her. She didn’t commit suicide, she died trying to cast a chaos spell.”
“And now her daughters are trying to re-create it. I guess stupid is hereditary.” Dulcinea’s jaw worked. “You know how I feel about Giselle, but Zara always seemed so… decent.”
Harlow wiped her mouth. “Yeah, well, so much for that. They’re in this together. Plus there’s some guy helping them out. He’s all inked up and wears eyeliner and dresses in black leather. Ian, maybe.”
“Ian Dufrene?” Dulcinea scratched her ear. “Lots of silver jewelry. Longish hair. Rides a motorcycle?”
“Yes on the hair, but I don’t know his last name or what he drives.” Harlow reached for a third brownie. “The silver jewelry part is right on, too. I think his nails might have been painted black also. My memories of when Ava Mae was in charge are a little hazy. It was kind of like looking out through rainy glass.”
Augustine snapped his fingers. “That guy was at Evander’s funeral ceremony. He was one of the coven members in the circle with Giselle and Zara. He seemed pretty friendly with both of them.”
Dulcinea nodded. “I know this guy. Ian owns the House of Pain tattoo shop.” She sat back. “So that’s their third, huh? Strong spells are best cast by three. Even better if the three are linked somehow. Giselle and Zara share blood, obviously, but if I had to guess I’d say they’ve both probably slept with Ian in order to bond with him.”
“Gross.” Harlow got up and grabbed milk from the fridge, then poured herself a big glass. She held the jug up toward Augustine. “You want some?”
“Sure, thanks.”
She poured a glass for him, then put the jug away. “So we know what kind of spell they’re going to cast, who they’re casting it with, what the spell might do to them—”
“What the spell might do to us.” Augustine pulled the glass of milk toward him but didn’t drink it. “If that spell is really capable of rendering all fae magic useless, we will be as defenseless as humans against the witches.”
“Jewelia thought it could take away the voodooers’ power, too,” Harlow added.
He slowly tapped his finger on the tabletop in