by Megan Hart
Maybe it had been a mistake to come again this year after all. Still, she couldn’t bear the thought of her grandma living alone. And Mama had wanted no part of traveling down here, saying she’d rather go to hell than come back to Alabama.
So she sent me instead. Dear mom had jumped at the chance to get her weird daughter out of the house and out of her hair.
It certainly was hot as Hades down here. And the gazillion buzzing, stinging insects in the bayou were the devil’s own reward. Annie swiped at a mosquito sucking her forearm.
A whisper of song blew from the treetops and teased her ears. The plaintive, haunting beauty of it was unlike anything she’d ever heard. It was as pure as a dulcimer’s plucking. The notes warbled like a bird’s call and bubbled like water gurgling through rocks.
Annie half rose and then sat back down with a groan. This music was different from the will-o’-the-wisp’s eerily luring tune, but she wasn’t going to be fooled into returning to the woods. Tombi had claimed evil dwelled there. A dangerous place swarming with snakes and spirits. Just the thought of snakes was enough to keep her rooted to the porch.
The screen door creaked open on rusty hinges, and Grandma Tia framed the doorway.
“Somethin’ calling ya to go in them woods again.”
Annie narrowed her eyes. For all her savvy acumen in eking out an existence bartering mojo bags and spells for groceries and other necessities, her grandma really did have an unsettling sixth sense.
“I won’t be drawn into the woods again,” Annie assured her. “Once was bad enough.”
“This time, you should go.”
Annie snorted. “Tombi said there was evil out there. Besides, I hate snakes, and I imagine the woods are full of them.”
“It’s still daylight. Yer Tombi will protect ya.”
“Why do you trust this stranger? You’ve never even met him.”
Again, the fluting notes of music drifted and tempted. They chirruped and whistled like a bird in flight.
“You hear that?” Annie asked, looking toward the woods.
Tia shook her head. “Not a thing.”
Annie stood and lightly brushed the rear of her jeans. Gritty sand and red clay dust permeated every surface outdoors. “You think Tombi’s out there now?”
Tia’s eyes danced. “He been out there most of the day, hoping to see ya.”
She couldn’t stop the delicious shiver that vibrated along her spine. Annie cocked her head to the side, studying Tia. “You sure he’s trustworthy?”
“I have a good feelin’ ’bout him.”
Still, Annie hesitated. Grandma’s sixth sense wasn’t infallible. She often leaned on the side of reckless and trusting.
“You want everyone to come to you. Just like you search for answers to yer problems outside of yerself.” Tia patted her ample chest. “Sometimes you gots to take heart and just rise up to yer problems.”
Even her old grandma thought she was gutless. Annie straightened her shoulders. “Fine. If I don’t make it home tonight, send out a search party.”
She marched into the woods, her posture rigid as a stone column, knowing her grandma watched. “Might as well have called me a coward,” she muttered, stomping through tall weeds and red dirt. Once inside the woods, Annie leaned against a tree, closed her eyes and fully opened her senses, straining to catch the pure music she’d heard on the porch steps.
Cascading trills floated through the swamp. The same pure melody that had captured her attention from the cottage. “Here I go again,” she said with a sigh, carefully making her way along a thin trail almost eclipsed by dense shrubs on either side. But daylight, and Grandma Tia’s urging to follow the music, gave her a measure of confidence.
The notes grew louder, more fluid and enchanting. Annie rounded a bend and recognized the water bank where she’d drifted last evening.
A man sat on a fallen tree limb, playing some sort of reed instrument. Although his naked, broad back faced her, Annie sensed it was Tombi. She wasn’t Tia Henrietta’s granddaughter for nothing.
Staring at his sleek, muscled torso made her throat and mouth dry. She licked her lips and swallowed hard. She’d bet her grandma’s pantry full of hoodoo charms that Tombi had women follow him everywhere. The Pied Piper of Bayou La Siryna.
The music stopped. In one fluid motion, like a dance of danger, Tombi jumped to his feet and whirled around, a dagger gleaming in his right fist. The wooden instrument he played dangled loosely in his left hand. Warrior and musician melded into one. His face was taut, and his eyes instantly fixed on her.
Whoa. Annie threw up her hands and took an involuntary step backward. For all she knew, Tombi might have deliberately summoned her with the music, luring her to him against her better judgment. She’d done the same thing following the will-o’-the-wisps last night.
Tombi slowly lowered the dagger and secured it in the leather sheath belted at his waist, never breaking his gaze. “You came back,” he said in a flat tone.
He didn’t act like a man hoping to see her, as Grandma Tia had claimed.
“I had to. You never told me your story.” Annie walked forward and nodded at the dagger. “You always this uptight?”
“These woods are full of danger.”
“Really? Because even my grandma thinks it’s perfectly safe out here during the day.”
He frowned and crossed his arms. “It used to be.”
A series of scars tattooed the smooth, muscular plane of his chest and shoulders, distracting her from his unsettling response. “Have you been in knife fights?” she blurted.
Tombi grabbed the T-shirt on the log and swiftly pulled it on.
“I’m sorry.” Annie was horrified at her rudeness. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I’m not ashamed of them,” he said gruffly. He nodded at the log. “Sit.”
Her embarrassment faded. “I don’t take commands like a dog,” she said, lifting her chin.
A ghost of a smile flitted the corners of his lips, so fleeting she might have dreamed it had been there. He bowed his head a fraction before he sat down, but didn’t apologize.
Annie gestured to the surrounding trees. “So, what’s the danger? Are the wisps malicious or something? I mean, your friend sounded sad and desperate to me—not evil.”
“In real life, Bo was all that was true and good.”
“And now?” she prompted.
“Remains to be seen.” He studied her, eyes narrowed and unflinching.
Annie smoothed the tumble of curls away from her face. “What do you mean?”
“It’s hard to tell good from evil sometimes.”
“Do you see everything so black-and-white? Surely there’s a dozen shades of gray in between.”
“No.” His jaw muscles clenched. “You’re either with me or you are with Nalusa.”
“Nah-loosa?” she asked, testing the unfamiliar word.
“Nalusa Falaya—it means ‘long black being’ in Choctaw. He’s a spirit that resembles a man, but he can shape-shift into different forms.”
Annie drew a circle in the dirt with the toe of her sneaker. Root working—the conjure magick of her grandma—was one thing...but this? It sounded like an old Native American tale invented to keep children close to camp and away from the dark unknown.
“You don’t believe me.” Tombi picked up a large stick on the ground by their feet and flung it violently. It hit a tall oak and splintered with a crack as loud as gunfire.
Annie sidled away from the heat of his anger, not wanting to be singed by his sudden wrath. “I really should head back home,” she offered in a small voice.
“It’s real,” Tombi said harshly. “Nalusa exists. And he can change into snake form. And I believe that wasn’t any ordinary snake that killed Bo. It was Nalusa
.”
“So, now you’re out here trying to hunt this Nalusa down. For revenge.” She backed away slowly, not wanting to set him off again. “Got it.”
Tombi also stood. “Not just me. There’s a whole tribe of us.”
More people who shared his delusion? She glanced around uneasily, hoping she wasn’t about to be ambushed by a group of demented, make-believe warriors.
“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. C’mon, you saw the will-o’-the-wisps last night with your own eyes. Remember?”
Annie rubbed her arms. He certainly had her there. “Okay,” she reluctantly conceded. “I admit there are things I know nothing of. I’d rather keep it that way, too.”
His brow furrowed. “Whether you ignore Nalusa or not, he still exists.”
“Yeah, well, I’d rather not make his acquaintance. I have enough problems as it is.”
Alarm flickered in his dark eyes. “But Bo spoke to you. You have to help us.”
Annie shrugged and took a step backward. The last thing she needed was to get caught up in his personal crusade for revenge. “Come, see my grandma one day. She’ll do a protection spell if you like.” She plastered on a smile and waved. “Nice seeing you. Thanks again for helping me find my way home last night.”
Two steps and her shoulders tensed at the heavy pressure of his palms bearing down, barring an easy exit. Damn. He wasn’t going to make retreat easy. Tombi guided her back around to face him.
“We need you, Annie.” He swallowed. “Please.”
She could tell the plea wasn’t easy for Tombi. Pride and dignity announced their presence in the strong jaw and stiff posture.
“But I doubt I’ll ever hear Bo again,” she protested. “I have no plans to be lured back into the woods by the wisps.”
“The wisps are controlled by Nalusa. But as long as you’re with me, I’ll protect you. I promise.”
His words were deep and solemn. No doubt he would do his best to protect those on his side.
“I believe you.”
“Good. Then come with me and—”
She shook her head and backed away. This wasn’t her battle. “No. Sorry. I don’t want to get involved.”
Tombi glared at her, and his full lips compressed to a tight line. Evidently, he was a man used to getting his own way.
Too bad.
* * *
Stubborn woman.
Tombi took a deep breath to calm his temper. Somehow, he had to convince this slip of a girl to help him. Maybe... His gaze dropped to her lips. Those lips that had unexpectedly kissed him last night. Annie felt the attraction between them. He could use that to his advantage. Tombi slid his palms down her arms and urged her forward. So close their bodies almost touched.
Her brown eyes widened and darkened into black pools of desire. She raised her hands and placed them against his chest. Yes, this might be so easy. So pleasurable.
Later, he couldn’t say who moved first. All he knew was that their lips met and their hands explored one another. Her fingers traced the bulge of his biceps, then kneaded the muscles along his spine.
Tombi stroked the thin shoulder blades on her back, ran his calloused fingers through her soft curls. She was so petite, so delicate. Fragile enough he wondered if it might hurt her should he release his full passion.
A tiny, whimpering moan cut through his reservations. She wanted him. Tombi lowered his hands until they cupped her ass. That cute ass that he’d watched walk away last night and that he’d pictured ever since. He squeezed, letting Annie feel his desire press against her core.
She moaned again. Or was that him this time? It didn’t matter.
“Stop.” Annie stepped out of his embrace and hugged her belly. “Sorry. It’s just...this is too fast. I barely know you.”
He stared at her, willing his heartbeat to slow and his brain to catch up to her words. “It’s okay,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I understand.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, turning and making her way down the path.
Tombi shook his head to clear it. He was supposed to use their attraction to convince her to work with him. Somehow, he’d lost control, and Annie was slipping away from him once more. He couldn’t let that happen. He—rather, his people—needed her skill in communicating with the shilup, the human spirits that wandered the land of the ghosts. Bo’s spirit had been captured by the wisps, and remembering the plight of his trapped friend cooled his fever.
“Wait,” he called to Annie’s retreating figure.
She turned and gazed at him expectantly.
What could he offer her? This was his fight. Not hers. She was right to not get involved. Yet, Nalusa grew stronger every day, and they were desperate to stop his spread of power in Bayou La Siryna. Just last week, Nalusa had gone farther away from the swamp and invaded the heart and mind of one of his hunters while he was asleep in his own bed. Marcus had even entertained thoughts of suicide but wisely had called Tombi for help, recognizing that Nalusa was at the root of his despair.
Tombi scrambled to recall the bits and pieces of conversation with Annie, searching for an angle. He remembered her troubled face as she mentioned hearing other people’s auras.
“What if I could help you?”
Her lips twisted with suspicion. “Help me with what?”
He approached Annie, confident of victory. “You want to control your sense of hearing. Correct?”
Her body and eyes lit up. “Really? You can help with that?”
“Really. You told me how surprised you were when we first met because you couldn’t detect any sound from my aura.”
“I remember.”
“That’s because I control my energy field most of the time. I can teach you to do the same.”
“And that will help me block unwanted sound?”
He had no idea. But it seemed logical. “Absolutely,” he said with conviction.
“And if I help you, you promise to protect me?”
“I do.”
Annie looked down to the ground, and Tombi held his breath, awaiting her answer.
“I’m in,” she said in a rush.
CHAPTER 3
What had she gotten herself into? She wanted a normal life, but what good was that if she was killed in the process? But she had to try. She had to trust that Tombi would protect her.
Grandma Tia had been no help, and no matter how many spells and strips of paper she burned under the full moon, nothing changed. If anything, her hearing grew stronger, more disruptive.
Tombi nodded. “Great. We begin now.”
Hope bubbled through her like uncorked champagne on New Year’s Eve. She was about to start a new life. Do all those things she’d longed to do: get a real job, be around people and relate normally. Simple acts most people took for granted.
He turned and beckoned her to follow.
“Where are we going?” she asked happily. No waiting for the full moon this time. Hope had arisen right here in the midafternoon sunshine. “Is there a special place for a spell? Like an energy vortex or something?” She hurried along the path.
He shot an incredulous look over his shoulder. “What are you babbling about?”
“I’m curious how you’re going to do this. I think Grandma Tia never helped me because she didn’t know how, though she would never admit it.”
“We aren’t casting any spells.”
“Are you taking me to a special healer, then? Like a shaman?”
He sighed loudly and planted his feet so abruptly she plowed into his back.
He turned and steadied her. “We’re going to my camp, so you can meet the other hunters. I want to know who that betrayer is. If there is one.”
Annie’s eyes narrowed. “So, you won’t hel
p me until I help you first.”
“That’s right.”
Worry quickly overcame her frustration. “But what if I can’t pick up anything from them?”
“You will,” he said confidently. “I’m the best in the group at controlling my energy, yet you picked up the drumming.”
“But it was only a drumming sound. Nothing good or bad about it,” she protested.
“True, but it picked up something of my nature. A primitive beat passed down through my ancestry.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” she muttered, picking her way carefully through the prickly saw palmettos and dense underbrush. Tombi kept a slower pace today, albeit still a brisk one. “Tell me about these other hunters.”
The more she knew going in, the less nervous she would be. Annie hated meeting new people, especially in a group situation where each aura would jumble with the others into a confusing din.
“We’re down to four in the inner circle since Bo died. Me, Chulah, Hanan and my sister, Tallulah.”
“So, what is it you actually do? How do you fight Nalusa and his shadow spirits?”
Tombi didn’t answer right away. “It’s something you would have to see and be a part of to really understand.”
Meaning he didn’t want to say any more on the subject. Great. Fine by her. The less she knew, the fewer nightmares she’d dream. She’d help him find the betrayer, and he’d help her control hearing auras. Then she could have the normal life she craved, and he could...maybe win his battle. Get revenge for his friend’s death. They could both move on.
They continued until the path widened, and she spotted over two dozen tents pitched in a field. They were arranged in a circle, and in the middle of it all was a thin stream of smoke that wafted upward from a modest fire. The acrid smell of burning oak stirred her with a sense of home and cozy evenings warming by the fireplace.
“You all must be great friends,” she said, picturing them telling stories in the evening by campfire, sharing a bond of fighting evil. They were all part of something bigger than themselves. For a moment, it made her own dream seem small and selfish.
And he wanted her to come into this...this tight group of friends and point the finger at one of them? Annie rubbed the unexpected chill on her arms. She wasn’t sure what she feared most: being unable to recognize the betrayer, or singling out someone and facing their collective wrath.
