Bayou Shadow Protector

by Debbie Herbert

  The doorbell rang and she perked up. If it was Steven, they’d have this fixed in no time. Quickly, she went to the front door and opened it.

  Tallulah pinned her with her typically haughty gaze. “Appears you managed just fine last night,” she said drily, staring at April’s bare legs poking out from beneath one of Chulah’s old flannel shirts.

  The last person she wanted to witness her disastrous day. “Chulah’s at his shop,” she said stiffly, shutting the door.

  Tallulah blocked her attempt and pushed against the door, squeezing herself in. “I came to see you.”

  “I’m kind of busy right now.” April ran a hand over the shirt. She’d picked it out of the closet and thrown away the tattered nightgown from last night. It covered her only to midthigh and she self-consciously crossed her legs at the ankle. To top it off, her hair was a tangled mess from sleeping on it wet. Not her best look. By contrast, Tallulah was poised and fresh in her jeans and a black top that emphasized a silver necklace with large turquoise nuggets. Matching chandelier earrings highlighted the blue-black smoothness of her long hair. Very stylish.

  Tallulah sniffed. “What’s that smell?”

  “I don’t smell anything,” April lied.

  “This place reeks of burned food.”

  “What did you come over to tell me?” She had to get Tallulah out of here and take care of that water. She’d call Joanna for help. If she was lucky, they could get it cleaned up and Chulah wouldn’t have to know what an idiot she was.

  “That if you ever...” Tallulah’s brow furrowed. “What’s that noise?”

  “Nothing. Like I told you, I’m kinda busy here.” April opened the door wider but Tallulah ignored her and walked down the hallway. Damn her supernatural hearing.

  “What the hell? There’s water all over the place!”

  April came up behind her. “You’re right. I hadn’t noticed. I wonder what it could be?”

  Tallulah headed unerringly to the closed utility-room door. She jerked it open. “The damn hose is broken. You have to turn off the faucet behind the machine.”

  “Oh.”

  The silence stretched between them.

  “I didn’t know that,” she added.

  Tallulah was acting strange. Her mouth twitched and her shoulders shook. Finally, she slapped a hand on the machine, threw her head back and laughed. Deep, full-throated chuckles until her eyes ran and she hunched forward, clutching her stomach.

  “It’s not that funny.”

  Tallulah straightened and swiped at her eyes. “Right. The hardwood in the hall will get damaged if we don’t clean it up right away.”

  Hard to believe Tallulah was helping. Probably helping merely to save Chulah’s floor—not April’s pride. “There’s no more towels. Should I get the bedspread?”

  “Good idea. I’ll run out to the garage and get Chulah’s wet vac.”

  April grabbed the bedspread, noting Tallulah’s familiarity with Chulah’s house. Did Chulah still have feelings for her? He hadn’t immediately pushed Tallulah away when she’d kissed him last night at the door. There had been a good five seconds before the kiss stopped. Five seconds of agony.

  * * *

  Forty minutes later, April sat at the table and watched Tallulah expertly make them tea, looking right at home in Chulah’s kitchen. April rubbed her sore temples, feeling cranky and out of sorts again. Which was ridiculous considering Chulah’s kindness last night and then receiving unexpected help from the person she would have least expected it from.

  Tallulah set two steaming cups on the table. “Lucky you, the herbal crap from Annie is all yours. It might help your headache, but I’d suggest at least two spoonfuls of sugar to make it palatable.”

  “You really think it can help?” she asked, stirring in the sugar.

  “Couldn’t hurt. You’re bound to feel some aftereffects from the untethering.”

  She could only hope the effects weren’t permanent. She’d felt more than fine last night in Chulah’s arms, but now the hurt was kicking in. Adjustment to this new life would be tricky. Her throat closed up; would she ever fly again? Ever see the beauty of the Fae realm once more? She couldn’t, wouldn’t, dwell on that now with Tallulah here.

  “So you overheard everything?” she asked, sipping the herbal brew.

  “I try to stay aware of everything that happens around me. It’s part of being a shadow hunter. You notice the smallest details. A skill that could save your life one night.”

  April played with the frayed edge of the tablecloth. It had been awfully kind of Tallulah to help, but she was bone-tired and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed. Or a hot bath. Her face warmed remembering last night’s bath and Chulah’s lovemaking.

  “I can guess where your mind’s wandering.”

  April sputtered midswallow. She coughed and took another long sip of tea. At least there was no hiccup, no slight levitation as before. “So why did you come today in the first place? You said you had something to say.”

  Tallulah drummed her nails on the table, apparently considering her words. “I’ve seen the way Chulah acts around you. How worried he was about you last night. I don’t want you to hurt him.”

  “The way you did when he asked you to marry him?”

  Tallulah flinched. “Have to admit I didn’t see the proposal coming. I thought we were...close friends.”

  “Friends? Is that what you call it when you exchange long goodbye kisses with a man? I saw you wrap yourself around him at the door last night. If you want Chulah, tell him. Don’t keep giving him mixed messages. That isn’t fair.”

  “You’re right.”

  April opened her mouth to argue and then snapped it shut. Tallulah actually agreed with her.

  “I have to admit I was a little jealous when I saw Chulah fawning over you.” She held up a hand. “Yes, it was stupid of me. It’s just... I’ve always known Chulah was there for me. No matter what the problem. After Bo died—”

  “Who’s Bo?”

  “The love of my life. Always was, always will be. Nalusa Falaya killed him.” Her voice was clipped, but April heard the pain that lay beneath the words.

  “Chulah helped me through some of the worst. He’s the best friend I ever had.”

  “Only a friend? Wait. Don’t answer that. It’s none of my business.”

  “I wish it were more than that, but the spark wasn’t there for me. I don’t think it was for Chulah either, only he didn’t realize it until you came along. He’s a good man—attractive, brave, everything a woman could wish for. But he isn’t Bo. No one will ever be as dear to me as him.”

  Who knew? Tallulah had a soft side, a womanly side capable of great love. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said softly.

  Tallulah took a long swallow of tea and set the cup down, shoulders back and chin high. “Don’t pity me. I hate that.”

  “Pity you?” April snorted. “No way. I’m jealous of you.”

  Tallulah’s eyes narrowed. “Because I kissed Chulah last night?”

  “Why did you do that?” She drew a ragged breath, curious but hurting.

  “Vanity.” Tallulah took a long sip of tea. “Condemn me all you want. I was curious whether or not Chulah still desired me.”

  April sighed. “And he did.”

  Tallulah shook her head, earrings dancing in the black curtain of her hair. “No. He was testing the waters, same as me. The spark was gone.”

  A heaviness lifted from her chest; she felt light enough to fly again. “Thanks for telling me that.”

  Tallulah stood and gathered their cups. “I’ll put up the wet vac. If you’re up to it, I’ll drive you to your place to pick up some clothes.”

  April stood as well. Whether it was the herbal tea, Tallulah’s kindness or some combination of both, her headache was tolerable. “A change of clothes would be awesome.” She hesitated. “Are you going to tell Chulah I almost ruined his cabin the moment he left me alone in it?”

  Tal
lulah winked. “It’s our secret.”

  “Awesome. I’ll try to see if there’s some pants of his I can wear to cover my legs.” April bounced out of the room, but stuck her head out around the corner. “Hey, did I ever satisfy you that I won’t hurt Chulah?”

  “Yes. Just had to make sure your heart was in the right place. Hurry up and let’s go. You don’t want his stepmom and little sister to drop by and find you roaming the cabin semi-naked.”

  * * *

  Despite the dozens of people crowded into Tombi and Annie’s cabin, the mood was solemn and quiet. April, Joanna and Annie busied themselves cleaning the kitchen. It had taken hours of cooking and serving, but everyone had feasted on a traditional meal of hunter’s stew, corn fritters and colorful dumplings made from grape juice. The shadow hunters would need their strength for the long night ahead.

  From the den came a murmur of deep voices as the hunters strategized for battle. April tried to take comfort in the strength and number of their voices, but her nerves were frayed. What if Chulah were injured...or killed? A dish slipped through her hand and crashed to the floor.

  “Sorry.” She slipped Annie an apologetic look.

  “No problem. I’ll sweep up the pieces.”

  “Here, let me take over.” Joanna handed her a kitchen towel. “You can wipe down the table and counters and I’ll finish drying the dishes.”

  She set to work, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation of the hunters, but could decipher only a few words here and there. Joanna and Annie calmly went about their normal household chores. Only the pinched lines of their mouths and absent look in their eyes betrayed their concern.

  April twisted the towel in her hands. “How can you take this so calmly? Chulah and Tombi are preparing to confront Hoklonote. I’m worried sick. Do you ever get used to this?”

  “Never,” Joanna said. “My Nita was a hunter all his life. I dreaded every full moon. That’s why I made my own sons vow to never join the shadow hunters. Chulah didn’t listen, though. That one is headstrong.”

  Sounded like her other sons were cowards, but April bit her tongue.

  “I worry, too,” Annie said. “But it’s part of who Tombi is and I wouldn’t change a thing about him.” She finished sweeping up the broken bits of china and emptied them into the waste bin. “Besides, I know he’s a formidable opponent and I’m confident in his fighting ability. That helps.”

  April stared out the window at the full moon, swollen and potent and beckoning the hunters to battle. “Your husband’s name was Nita?” she asked Joanna.

  “Yes. It’s Choctaw for bear.” Her sharp face softened in reverie and her hands slowed as she dried a plate. “He was like a bear, too. Big and strong and fearless.”

  Guilt lanced through April. “You still miss him.”

  “Yes. But at least his death was merciful.”

  “Merciful?” The man had been left alone for hours to die from a rattlesnake bite. A slow dying that she was responsible for.

  “He went quickly. A freak accident in the woods.”

  “Quickly?” Her brain spun as she tried to grasp the implications of the news.

  Joanna pursed her lips. “Feeling bad again? Sit down. We’re about done with everything.”

  She sank into a chair, light-headed with shock. All these years she’d blamed herself for his death. Wasted years of guilt and shame. “I thought... Chulah said...he should have gotten medical attention quicker.”

  “Wouldn’t have made a bit of difference. Nita had a bad heart and was on borrowed time. Chulah always takes too much upon himself. He’s not to blame.”

  And neither am I. She felt the blood drain from her face.

  “Have you been drinking the tonic I left you?” Annie asked. “You’re so pale. Let me brew you a cup. Better make it two cups. It’s going to be a long night.”

  Chulah should have told her. He knew she blamed herself, had been tormented about it for years. Yet instead of telling her the truth, he’d been angry when he discovered she was the cause of the delay in the woods. Had let her keep believing the worst.

  It’s not my fault. April put her head in her hands, letting the truth seep into her mind and heart. Relief, anger, regret—a dizzy swirl of conflicting emotions.

  “Take this.” Annie placed a cup of herbal tea in front of her. “It will make you feel better.”

  Dutifully, she took a long sip. Yes, she needed fortification to give Chulah a piece of her mind. Anger stiffened her spine and she rose from the table, aware that Joanna and Annie exchanged looks.

  She strode into the den, where all the men—and Tallulah—ceased their conversation and regarded her curiously. Her eyes immediately settled on Chulah. “May I speak with you a moment?”

  Without waiting for his answer, she marched outside and went on the porch. The screen door creaked open.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  She whirled around. “Your dad would have died whether or not I enchanted you that day. Joanna said he died almost instantly.”

  Chulah didn’t deny it, nor did he defend himself. Instead, he met the challenge of her stare head-on.

  “Well?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you say so? You knew how bad I felt about the whole thing.”

  “Because the doctor who reported that was an old family friend. He might have told Joanna Dad died quickly merely to pacify her and ease her suffering.”

  “He had a bad heart, Chulah. You didn’t mention that either.”

  “So?”

  “Damn. Why are you so stubborn? I don’t believe a doctor would lie to ease anyone’s suffering. And with your dad’s bad heart, the snake’s venom was too much for his body.”

  His jaw clenched. “So everyone says.”

  “And you’re still determined to believe the worst. To make me suffer...hell, to make yourself suffer as well. And for no good reason.”

  “I have every reason to be bitter,” he said tersely. “I lost two hours of my life that day. Do you know what that feels like? I convinced myself I was either crazy or, worse, a coward.”

  “And do you know what it felt like for me? Every day I lived in shame, convinced a man died because of me.”

  “What do you want me to say? That you win? That you suffered more than me?”

  “Nobody wins at this. It’s not a game,” she said softly. And after all, she was the one who had set it all in motion with her selfishness. “Is this something we can ever get past?” she asked. “Or will the memory of that day always stand between us?”

  He leaned against the porch railing and stared into the inky black night. “I can’t honestly say. I’d like to say it won’t, but I’d be lying.”

  April put her hand in his. “I’m sorry. I’m the one at fault. Can you ever forgive me?”

  “I realize you didn’t set out to harm anyone.” He squeezed her hand.

  It wasn’t a real declaration of forgiveness, but she’d take it. The night reeked of danger and soon they would march into the heart of the evil. Other, kinder, words should be spoken on a night such as this one. “I love you, Chulah,” she whispered.

  He swiftly gathered her in his arms and held her tight. Kissing her until nothing else existed but the safe haven of their entwined bodies.

  A discreet cough interrupted them.

  “Shall we get on with tonight’s business?” Steven bounded up the steps. “I’ve brought an army of Fae like we agreed upon.”

  April searched the woods. Sure enough, dozens of fairy lights ringed the treetops. “Guess Hoklonote’s fire convinced them they needed to get their hands dirty in battle.”

  Steven avoided her gaze. “We can discuss the specifics inside.”

  Suspicion flared. If this was a giant ruse, it wouldn’t be the first time the Fae were guilty of deception. “Are they really on board with helping the hunters, or is the light show a trick?”

  “Of course we’re on board.” Steven addressed his answer to Chulah. “Let’s get on with it.”


  Heat fanned her cheeks. “Why won’t you look at me?”

  He continued to ignore her. “We can scout ahead and—”

  “The lady asked you a question,” Chulah interrupted. “Answer her.”

  Steven flicked her the barest of glances. “There’s no trick.” He faced Chulah again. “We’re ready to go.”

  “Too bad. We aren’t. We haven’t even started our prebattle ritual.” He put an arm around April and gestured to the door. “Go on in. If you’re hungry, we have stew and corn bread.”

  The weight of Chulah’s arm, the show of his support, eased her embarrassment. Steven gave a terse nod and left them alone.

  “He sure was acting strange,” she muttered. “Like he was mad at me. Although I can’t imagine why.”

  “Men react to pressure in different ways. Some turn outward and want to hang out and talk with friends, a few will have a drink to take the edge off, and some like Steven withdraw into themselves and even act like jerks.”

  It felt like something more was missing in the explanation, but what did she know about fighting battles? Sure, she’d intervened a few times to save Chulah from a will-o’-the-wisp or one of the birds of the night—but it wasn’t expected of her, and she’d never deliberately set out to confront a shadow spirit.

  He opened the door and she entered the den. “If you say so. I’d kind of like a drink myself, but I remember how alcohol made me loopy the day we met. I’ll need my wits.”

  “Need your wits for what?” he asked, shutting the door.

  “For the battle tonight,” she called over her shoulder. She smiled warmly at the men as she passed into the kitchen. They sure had gotten quiet all of a sudden. Acted a bit stunned, too. Perhaps Steven’s sour mood had infected the hunters.

  In the kitchen, Annie was silently laughing, hand covering her mouth. Joanna shook her head, mouth twitching in some secret amusement.

  “What?” April asked. “Have I missed a joke?”

  Annie pulled herself together. “Let’s go in the bedroom where we can talk without being interrupted.”

  Miffed, April followed them down the hall and to a spare bedroom. Annie shut the door behind her and sat on the bed, patting the mattress, while Joanna sat in a rocking chair.