Bayou Shadow Protector

by Debbie Herbert

  He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen.

  Gently, he disengaged April from his arm and she rolled over, snuggling deep in the blanket. If anyone dared to come around, he should be prepared. Not naked and vulnerable. He quickly donned his clothes.

  Outside, the fire was almost banked. Chulah kicked up dirt over the gray ash, not willing for an ember to fly in the breeze and catch the woods on fire. He gathered his canteen, backpack and camping gear, stuffing them in a large duffel bag. He frowned at the deepening shadows. Much as he hated to wake April, he couldn’t take a chance.

  He returned to the tent and gently shook her awake. “Sorry, baby, we should go. When we get to my cabin you can sleep for days. Okay?”

  She slapped his hand away and mumbled incoherently.

  Chulah laughed. “Get dressed, sleepyhead. It’s getting dark and we need to get out of here.”

  April sighed and flung off the blanket. “All right, all right.”

  Had to be love; even her grumpiness was adorable.

  A howling wind shuddered the tent. Something was out there. Chulah lifted a finger to his lips, cautioning April to silence. He picked up his dagger and slowly stepped out.

  Chapter 20

  Two large fairies, dressed in military red and gold uniforms, glowed liked fallen stars, blinding in their finery. Despite the ostentatious rows of metal pins and braids of their regalia, their expressions were stern and set.

  “Why are you here?”

  Their glower remained directed at the tent’s opening. “Come out at once, April,” one of them ordered.

  Chulah raised his dagger. “She’s with me now. Get off my land.”

  They stood as stiff and unyielding as giant wooden nutcracker statues come to life. Again, they looked neither to the left nor to the right, but straight ahead.

  Were they deaf?

  Chulah walked in front of them, waving the dagger. “I said get off my property.”

  The tallest one slowly raised his right hand. A trail of purple light extended from his palm, a current that knocked Chulah’s dagger from his clenched fist. His hand burned and then numbed. “What the hell was that?” He shook out his hand, pumping blood back into the deadened fingers.

  April rushed out of the tent. “I’ll come with you. Just leave him alone.”

  “No!” He wouldn’t go down this easy. Chulah picked up the dagger with his uninjured hand.

  April tugged his arm, eyes wide and pleading. “Don’t do it. They can direct a beam at your heart that could kill you.”

  Anger coursed through every cell in his body. His warrior instinct was to protect her at all costs. These fairies must have a weak spot, a vulnerability open to attack. But damn if he knew what it was.

  “I have to go with them,” April said, her voice choking on the words. “I’ll sneak away again one night. This isn’t goodbye forever.”

  He didn’t want stolen moments from time to time. Didn’t want the uncertainty of knowing whether or not she was safe or even alive. Didn’t want to be alone and lonely again. That would never be good enough. He needed April in his life.

  The decision was made in an instant. “Then I’ll go with you,” he vowed.

  “But...if you come, they may never let you return home.”

  “Home is where you are,” he said simply. He’d plead his case to let them both return to Bayou La Siryna, but if the queen refused, he’d beg to remain with April in their realm.

  The fairies grabbed April, one by an arm, the other by her long hair. Their glow flickered and diminished. They were leaving.

  Chulah grabbed April’s free hand and held it tight. No matter what, he wouldn’t let go. The bottom dropped from beneath his feet and he was falling. A black abyss spun and whirled liked a tornado, his body spiraling down at a furious pace. Weightless. Only darkness passed before his eyes, but the pressure of April’s hand remained, even if he couldn’t see her. “April,” he called.

  But there was no answer, only the echo of his voice in the cavernous void. It seemed as if the free fall would never end. Darkness shifted to shades of gray; a distant chiming of bells wafted in the thin air. Images passed before him like the channel changings of an old black-and-white television set—fire ravishing a field, a chorus of singing angels, sun shining through the stained glass of a medieval church, a meadow of bluebells.

  His body crashed to the ground and he rolled down a long hill. April’s hand was wrenched from his own. At last the hill leveled and he faltered to a stop. Chulah lay on his back and opened his eyes, immediately wishing he hadn’t. Everything spun so fast it left him dizzy. His stomach roiled in protest. Noise ricocheted in his brain, a riot of screeches and music and words.

  “Chulah? Can you hear me?”

  April’s voice sounded so far away. He lifted a hand in the air and she clasped it.

  They had arrived.

  Chulah carefully lifted himself to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes. The world still tilted, but the spinning slowed.

  “Close your eyes for a minute,” April urged. She ran her fingers through his hair and the contact grounded him. The sun shone warmly on his face and he inhaled the earthy, herbal scent of clover.

  Slowly, he opened his eyes again. April’s face was before him, searching, concern etching her forehead. “Feel better?” she asked.

  “Fine.” He struggled to his feet, alert to danger as always. “Where are the guards?”

  She pointed to her right. “Over there.”

  The nutcrackers were wooden as ever, standing at attention.

  “What happens now?” he asked, surveying the land with curiosity. Honestly, it didn’t look different from any other field at home. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this. Even their guards no longer glowed as they had done on earth.

  Her teeth worried her lower lip. “Now we’re off to see the queen.”

  Worry clawed his guts. Chulah patted his jeans pocket, relieved to feel Tia Henrietta’s mojo bag. Everything depended on winning her favor. He brushed his jeans and straightened his shirt. “Never met royalty before,” he joked.

  April flicked leaves and bits of grass from his hair. “You’re in luck. She happens to love handsome men.” She glanced nervously at the guards. “We better go. They’re getting antsy.”

  “How can you tell?”

  She smiled, but he could feel her fear.

  “I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve,” he said, trying to reassure her. “A few gifts for bribing.”

  “You’re going to need them.”

  Hands joined, they walked to the guards and followed their stiff gait until they reached a castle of sorts. Its walls were constructed of morning glory vines, rose petals and flowers blooming in every hue. English ivy glued together the patchwork of blossoms and greenery. An open space was carved as a doorway.

  “That’s the entrance to the fairy court,” April explained. “Whatever you do, don’t eat or drink anything that’s offered. If you do, you’ll be stuck here forever.”

  “Anything else I should know?” he murmured.

  “Flatter the queen,” she said shortly. “You can’t overdo it when it comes to paying her compliments.”

  He scowled. “I’m not a flowery-talking kind of man.”

  “You sure swept me off my feet.” April squeezed his hand. “Don’t speak unless someone addresses you first and be sure to bow when introduced to the queen.”

  He was already dreading the ordeal with all its rules. But he could deal. After all, April had been subjected to it her whole life.

  Long tables with white lace tablecloths were set with elaborate floral centerpieces. Everywhere, fairies, dressed mostly in pastel robes, sipped from crystal glasses and chattered. The head table was composed of obviously more mature fairies. Still beautiful, but with sprinkles of gray in their hair and wrinkles etched around their eyes and into their foreheads.

  He knew the queen the moment he set eyes on her again. She was dressed
all in black; her robe glittered with celestial designs of stars and crescent moons. Even her hair was raven-colored, with streaks of silver. Unlike most of her pale-skinned, blue-eyed subjects, her skin was as dark as his own, and her eyes were black and shiny as obsidian.

  The queen’s gaze swept him from head to toe. She regally motioned him to come forward.

  The chattering ceased and all eyes were upon him and April. Their evening’s entertainment, no doubt. He felt horribly underdressed and on display.

  No need for that. He was a shadow hunter, one of the few of his kind, descended from a long line of warriors who fought evil. Nothing to be ashamed of at all. Chulah lifted his chin and marched forward, April at his side.

  He’d never been one to back down from a challenge, and he wouldn’t start now. Not when everything he wanted was at stake.

  * * *

  Chulah was fearless. Confident. One of the many reasons she loved him. Of course, he hadn’t witnessed the queen and Council after they’d been whipped into a fury. Hadn’t been the recipient of the Fae’s cruelty.

  They stood a few feet from the queen. She curtsied and slanted her eyes sideways as Chulah bowed. He did it so gracefully, as if he’d performed it every day of his life. She should have known. When he trekked the forest, his footsteps were as measured and silent as a doe. A natural elegance, although he’d scoff at that description.

  “We haven’t had a human here in ages,” the queen drawled, lifting her nose up an inch. “Except for April, of course. She’s nothing but human since that unfortunate encounter with Grady.”

  “A pleasure to meet you,” Chulah said. April nudged him with her elbow. “Your Highness,” he added quickly.

  “Why did you come? I didn’t grant you permission.”

  “I wanted to be with April. I’d have asked permission but there was no time.” He nodded at the guards. “They were insistent on leaving immediately.”

  A frown creased her forehead. “Why do you want to be with April? There’s nothing special about her.”

  Her face flamed at the insult and she looked down at the ground, lest the anger showed in her eyes.

  “Because I love her.”

  His bold pronouncement warmed her heart and wiped out her anger over the queen’s disparagement. April smiled at the shocked faces of the queen and her court. An excited titter broke out at the tables.

  “Love?” the queen drawled. “How charming.”

  Her tone indicated she was anything but charmed at the pronouncement.

  “Your Highness,” April said quickly, eager to gain her favor. “Chulah didn’t have time to ask permission to enter our realm, but he did bring you gifts.”

  She clapped her hands in delight. “Excellent. What did you bring me? Where is it?”

  Chulah withdrew a purple bag from his pocket and undid the drawstring, shaking out a few shiny objects. A few items remained in the bag, but he stuffed it in his pocket so quickly she couldn’t tell what he’d kept.

  “Let’s hope Tia knew what she was doing,” Chulah whispered. “Doesn’t seem like much to me.”

  “Quit whispering,” the queen scolded. “Come here and show me what you’ve brought.”

  He approached the head table and held out his hand. The queen smiled and greedily scooped up the treasures as he stepped back by April’s side.

  “Well, well. What is this?” she asked, holding up a shiny round object.

  “A marble. It doesn’t compare to the jewels you wear but—”

  “A marble, you say? What’s that?” She squinted, rolling it between her fingers.

  “A child’s toy.”

  She picked up a glass chip that sparkled with a sea foam–green color. “And this?”

  “Sea glass, polished and tumbled by the ocean waves.”

  “It’s lovely,” she breathed. “What else do we have here?” She picked through the flower petals. “A miniature silver comb.”

  “I hope you are pleased,” Chulah said.

  “What else is in that bag?” she asked sharply.

  April held her breath, hoping it was nothing that would get him in trouble. Chulah withdrew the bag once more; his fingers deftly slid some kind of small silver objects in his pants pocket, before he shook out what was left of its contents.

  “What’s that?” the queen asked. “It’s not pretty and shiny.”

  “It’s a book of matches.”

  “Never heard of it. What’s it do?”

  “Makes fire.”

  Her lips twisted, as if skeptical. “Demonstrate, please.”

  Chulah shrugged slightly and struck a match on the side of the book. A tiny flame burst to light.

  She gasped with delight. “Bring it to me.”

  The queen eagerly grabbed the matches and lit one, watching it burn until it reached her fingertips. She blew it out and lit another. Then another. Until all the matches had been lit and extinguished.

  April wanted to smack her forehead. She should have brought the queen matches long ago as a gift. How had Chulah known what gifts would delight the queen? She’d have to ask him later, if there was a later for them.

  Finished with the fire display, the queen leaned back in her chair and regarded Chulah through hooded eyes. “How long did you want to visit us?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether you will allow April to return with me to my home, to live with my people, her people. She is human now, after all.”

  The queen drummed her long, spiked fingernails on the table, considering.

  April fought to control her shaking. Chulah wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his muscles coiled under his skin. He was as tense as she was, although his face was as impassive as always.

  “No,” the queen said at last. “Request denied.”

  His jaw tightened. “Then I’d like permission to live with April in your realm.”

  Chulah’s sacrifice stunned her. A rush of love engulfed her body.

  “No. I can’t let humans stay here in my kingdom. That just won’t do.”

  Chulah squeezed her shoulder. “May I ask why, Your Highness?”

  “I don’t have to justify my decisions to you,” she said, the coldness returning to her voice.

  Chulah looked astonished. And angry. But the sudden mood change of the queen didn’t surprise her. She’d seen it over and over through the years. Time to do something—anything—quick.

  April stepped forward. “If I may, Your Highness, there’s a few things you and the rest of the fairies should know. First, my mother didn’t desert the fairy realm. She was on her way back home when Grady intercepted her along the way and killed her.”

  She let that sink in. She wasn’t the unwanted, deserted love child that they had imagined. And her mother had never turned against their kind.

  The queen nodded. “Grady met the fate he deserved. Go on.”

  This was it. She had hoped to have a private audience with the queen for this request, but it hadn’t worked out according to plan. April gathered her courage. “Let’s talk about justice. I did everything you and the Council asked of me. I convinced the shadow hunters to help protect your kingdom. And I killed Grady, thus preventing any future danger to the realm.”

  “All as you should have done,” the queen said haughtily. “I’d expect no less from any of my subjects.”

  Bitch. Anger fueled her courage. “Then I’d like to remind Your Highness, and the esteemed Council, of the Fae code on justice and compensation. To quote—an avenging fairy who executes justice on behalf of the Fae realm shall be granted a boon of their choice should they seek recompense.”

  The queen’s eyes darkened and her fingers fisted over the marbles and sea glass in her hand. “You dare—”

  “And I choose to leave here and be with Chulah.”

  Chulah spoke up, placing a warning hand at the small of her back. “Your Highness, if I may. I have nothing but the highest respect for you and this magnificent
kingdom. It would please me to live among you the rest of my life.”

  April fought doing a double take. Since when did Chulah succumb to such flattery, such flowery language?

  “But I do understand that my human presence—our human presence—would be difficult for you and the rest of the fairies to endure.”

  The queen’s death grip on her new treasures eased and she leaned back in her seat, temper restored. So that was what Chulah was up to—letting the queen save face.

  “If you could find it in your hearts to let us return to our humble existence, all of the shadow hunters will be forever in your debt. Allies for eternity.”

  The queen steepled her fingers together, as if weighing his plea. “I have my subjects to consider.” She poured bloodred wine into a goblet and held it out to him. “Shall we drink to a new partnership between the Fae and the shadow hunters?”

  Ungrateful, wicked bitch. After all they had done for her, she was trying to trick him into staying trapped here forever, a servant to her bidding. April opened her mouth to protest, but Chulah tugged slightly on her shirt.

  “Thank you, but I’m not worthy enough to eat and drink fairy delicacies.”

  The queen set the goblet down, a reluctant smile twitching her lips. “You are as wise as you are brave, Chulah Rivers. And handsome to boot—for a human.”

  He bowed low, his long arms sweeping the ground.

  “You are free to leave.”

  “Both of us?” April blurted out, hardly daring to believe their luck.

  “Yes. Be off with you.” She shooed them with a dismissive flick of her wrist.

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” Chulah said.

  April grabbed his hands and turned, eager to leave before the capricious queen had a chance to change her mind. They hadn’t taken two steps before she ordered them to a halt.

  “One more thing.”

  April slowly turned around, dread prickling the hairs at the nape of her neck.

  “I can’t restore what you lost when Grady untethered you, but I can grant you this one gift. Every full moon, should you wish, you may return to the Fae realm for one night, your Fae essence restored. You’ll be able to fly and be among us as you once were.” The queen’s face softened. “Fawn—your mother—was one of my closest friends. I bestow this gift to honor her memory.”