Garden of Dreams and Desires - Kristen Painter Page 0,97
damage.”
“You’ll pay for his death.” Augustine glared at him, wishing he could take the man on one-on-one, no restraints, no weapons, just some good old-fashioned hand-to-hand. They’d see who was collateral damage then.
Sutter stepped onto the tarp, but the senator lifted her hand. “Remember, not the face.”
Sutter smacked the bar against his open palm and cocked his head to one side as if assessing Augustine’s vulnerable areas. “That still leaves a lot to work with.” He pulled back and swung, smashing the bar into Augustine’s ribs.
Augustine bent with the blow in an attempt to lessen its force, but the pain that shot through him told him it hadn’t done much good. The iron only added to the impact, leaving behind a welt that seared like a third-degree burn. Despite the pain, he straightened. He’d endured worse on the streets in order to make enough scratch to buy dinner. The stakes here were much higher—the liberty of all New Orleans’s othernaturals. With as much nonchalance as he could muster, he smiled at Sutter. “Anyone ever tell you that you hit like a girl?”
Scowling, Sutter drew back again.
Augustine braced himself. All he had to do was hang on until his lieutenants figured out where he was.
How hard could that be?
The bar slammed into his ribs again. The crack of bone seemed to ring in his ears. Maybe a better question might be, how long could that take?
Chapter Twenty-four
Giselle landed on hard, rocky ground. With Harlow on top of her. Wind swirled around them, tugging at their clothes and hair and scouring them with grit. They tussled for a moment until she got enough leverage to shove both hands against Harlow’s shoulders. “Get off me or I’ll put a hex on you.”
“Hex this.” Harlow slugged her across the mouth. “Never touch Lally again. Do you hear me?”
Giselle put her hands in front of her face to block the next blow and cast a protection spell at the same time. Harlow’s fist connected with Giselle’s stomach, forcing the air from her diaphragm. So much for the protection spell. She coughed, twisting to her side and finally dislodging Harlow. She found her breath, taking in a mouthful of dust with it. She coughed some more. “What the hell? Where are we?” Nothing looked familiar. “Why isn’t my magic working?”
Harlow had already gotten to her feet and now stood over Giselle, glaring down at her. “Maybe because you’re on the fae plane.”
Giselle wasn’t even sure what that meant. Ava Mae, where are you? Why aren’t you helping me?
Ava Mae’s response was feeble and distant. We’re too far away from the tree.
Harlow leaned down, fists raised and eyes angry. “Are you Giselle or Ava Mae?”
Giselle pushed to her feet. Her mouth tasted of blood and dirt and her jaw ached. She spat as much of the mess out as she could. “Both.”
“You don’t seem like Ava Mae. Your eyes aren’t black and your teeth look normal.”
Giselle glanced down. Her clothes were filthy. She brushed at them while she glared at Harlow. “What is this place?”
Ava Mae moaned. I don’t like it here.
Shut up. This is your fault.
“I told you,” Harlow repeated. “This is the fae plane.”
Giselle backed away, almost stumbling over the hardscrabble ground. There was a nothingness about the place she’d never felt before. Everything was gray as far as she could see. Gray skies, gray earth, gray rocks, gray mountains on the horizon. It even smelled gray. Like an old dusty attic. “Is this fae hell?”
“No, but it might be your hell. I’m guessing your magic doesn’t work here because you’re human and not supposed to be here anyway.” Harlow still had her fists raised. “I want to talk to Ava Mae.”
I can’t. Too weak.
“You can speak to her through me.” Giselle was barely holding it together. If this was the fae plane, how was she going to get back to New Orleans? She didn’t even know where that was from here.
Harlow scooped a silver disk out of the dirt and tucked it into her pocket. “Tell Ava Mae that it’s over. One way or the other, she’s not leaving here. Even if I have to kill you.”
Giselle stiffened. “Lay a hand on me and I’ll…” She really had no recourse.
“You’ll what? Fall down again?”
Harlow’s mocking tone was interrupted by Ava Mae’s whine. I’ll die if I stay here. Tell her I’ll die, witch.
Giselle put on her best I-couldn’t-care-less face when she replied. “She says staying here will cause her to die.”