Garden of Dreams and Desires - Kristen Painter Page 0,91
in the waiting area away from the rest.
Fenton returned carrying two small cups of coffee. He grimaced as he handed one to her. “I don’t have much hope it’s drinkable.”
She took her cup and smiled. “That’s okay. It’s hot and caffeinated. Two out of three ain’t bad.” She wrapped her hands around it while he sat beside her. They stared straight ahead, but she had the feeling all he could see was the same thing as her—Augustine’s face. She sipped the oily black liquid. “Ugh. You’re right. That’s horrible.”
He set his cup on the arm of the chair. “I’m rarely wrong.”
She took a long breath. “Then what’s your best guess as to where Augustine is?”
He bent his head, his gaze on his hands, which were now folded in his lap. “I’m afraid my best guess is not good news.”
She put her cup on the floor. “The senator?”
He nodded slowly. “And my intel on her is fairly limited due to the heavy security that always surrounds her. I don’t know where she’s staying—not that she’d be foolish enough to hold Augustine there.”
“Maybe I can help with that.” She wiggled her fingers. “With my computer skills, I mean.”
He nodded. “You might.”
“What do you think she wants with him?”
He glanced at her, a brief, apologetic smile disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. “Most likely to make an example of him.”
“To show the world just how bad the fae really are?”
The apologetic smile returned. “Yes.”
Lally and Jewelia were headed toward them. Lally pointed at the elevators. “Go on, you two. Get up there and find out what you can.” She shook her head. “He’s in an awful lot of pain.”
“He’s in room 315,” Jewelia added. “I’ll carry Lally home. I’m sure you all are going to have more work to do after you leave here.”
“I’m sure we are, too, so that would be great, thank you. Get some sleep, Lally,” Harlow said as she and Fenton got up and headed toward the elevator bank. Lally gave a little wave.
In a few minutes they were walking into Grantham’s room. A nurse was taking his pulse. She finished up, then gave them a stern look. “No more than fifteen minutes. I will kick you out.”
“They’re all right,” Grantham mumbled.
Fenton nodded at her. “Yes, ma’am.”
Harlow bit her tongue and focused on Grantham instead. His lids were at half-mast. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I just fought Ramon Rivera all over again.” Grantham frowned. “I’ve got a chest full of cracked ribs and a bruise that feels like there’s an elephant sitting on my lungs.” He managed a half smile. “But I’m alive.”
Harlow smiled. “We’re all really glad about that.”
“Me, too.” He rested his fingers on a small device affixed to the bed rail. “Self-dispensing pain meds.”
She stood at the side of his bed, the soft beeping of a monitor a reminder the accident could have gone differently. “Which you’re going to get to use in a few minutes. I don’t want this to take long, so forgive me for getting right to it, but do you have any idea what happened to Augustine?”
He nodded. “Pellimento’s men took him.”
“How many total?”
“Nine.” He paused. “Yeah, nine. They’re mercenaries led by a man named Sutter. Probably took Robelais to the same place we met them, especially if they think I’m dead. A warehouse near the CBD. Talk to someone at the station, they can log into my GPS, get the address.”
“Is it registered in your name?” Harlow asked.
“Yes.” He coughed and his face contorted in agony, his hand slipping off the medication button. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help.”
“No, you’ve been a lot of help,” Fenton said. He lifted Grantham’s hand back onto the pain dispenser. “Now go ahead and push that button.”
But Grantham hesitated. “These are trained mercenaries. They had serious firepower on them. Enough bullets and even a fae stops breathing. Be careful.”
Fenton dipped his head. “Thank you.”
Grantham nodded, pushed the button and a few seconds later, his lids drifted closed. Fenton and Harlow made their way out. She waited until they were in the car to speak. “I can hack into his GPS and check that address faster than waiting on the police to get it for us.”
He pulled the car into the street. “I thought you might. Can you use the system at the Pelcrum or do you need me to take you home?
“Is it fairly current?”
Fenton made a funny smile. “State-of-the-art. That contact lens you used at the Exemplar Ball, the one that had