by Megan Hart
Her eyes clouded with tears. “Thank you.”
“And now we begin. First—”
“Oh, wait, I forgot something that might help us.” Annie withdrew her hands from his and stood. “My great-great-great-great-grandmother wasn’t my only supernatural visitation today.”
He watched as she went to the sofa and rifled through her purse, at last producing a feather. “You were right—my spirit guide is a bird. He made contact with me and left this.”
“Some bird.” He laughed. “I thought for sure it would be along the lines of a robin or a starling.” Something feminine and petite like Annie. But the cinnamon-red tail feather was one he instantly recognized. “This is from a red-tailed hawk. Your bird is a highly intelligent raptor known for its hunting skills and partnership with humans through falconry. An excellent animal guide that will offer you its protection.”
“It’s huge. A little intimidating even. But I’m sure we’ll become great friends. Maybe the feather can help us with the ritual.”
“Absolutely.” He laid it between them as she resumed sitting across from him.
“All hunters have the skills of night vision, extraordinary hearing, a keen sense of smell or an intuition when the shadows arrive. We can even discern the marks and signs of shadow creatures. And some of us are better at various skills more than others. My specialty is blocking.”
“Blocking?”
“I can prevent certain sensations from entering or exiting my energy field. When hunting, it allows me to maintain intense focus while at the same time I can stop others from sensing me. To a degree, that is. It’s not like I’m invisible. If a shadow draws close enough, they will hear, smell and see me. But I have a definite edge no one else has. It’s why I’ve been an unofficial leader of the group.”
“That’s not the only reason,” Annie objected. “You would be a leader no matter what. You’re smart and courageous and fair. The other hunters recognize those traits in you.”
She had too much faith in him. He should warn her off; there was a certain ruthlessness to him that grew sharper from every contact with Nalusa and the wisps. He hated to imagine how much that ruthless nature would have overcome him after Nalusa’s bite if Annie and her grandmother hadn’t been there. She was truly his savior, although she was too insecure to recognize it.
“At any rate, I’ll try to show you how I block sound. I’m not sure you’ll be able to do it. I don’t know if this is something I inherited, but I do know that over time I’ve been able to perfect this ability, so maybe some of it is learnable.”
“It will be, I can feel it.”
A smell of fresh-cut grass quickly followed by a flower aroma wafted through the air. “What the hell is that?”
“Ms. Belle, the great-great-great-great one. She’s lending her support and approval.”
Would he ever get used to this hoodoo witchy business? Then again, she’d adapted quickly to his fight against the shadow world. If she could deal, he could do the same.
“It’s like this. During a hunt, when I’m blocking noise, I visualize sound waves floating toward me in slow motion. At the instant I hear a note, I picture a golden shield of light covering my entire body. As the waves advance toward me, I filter each note through the shield so that the noise is muted. If the will-o’-the-wisps are trying to fill my mind with negative messages, I can entirely block their attempt.”
“That’s so cool,” Annie whispered.
“Let’s try something. Describe any sounds you hear now.”
She closed her eyes. “I hear the electrical hum of the air conditioner and the refrigerator. Far away, I hear the tide and the screech of a few children playing tag. I hear the whirr of the ceiling fan above and a car passing by on County Road 143.”
“Can you hear my energy field?”
She shook her head. “Not at all.”
He took a deep breath. He was about to open himself to someone as deeply as he’d ever allowed. He dropped the normal protective barrier that was his walking-around daily existence. Let it all go in a swoosh that felt like a boulder rolling off his shoulders.
Annie gasped.
Had he released too much? Quickly, Tombi blocked the flow. “Are you okay?”
She inhaled deeply. “Yes.”
“What did you hear?”
“It’s hard to explain, but the music from your aura was rich and deep and melancholy. I heard the flute, drums, a chanting, a rush of flooding waters, a snake’s hissing and rattling, and the music of the wisps, only it was distorted. Instead of alluring, it was frightening and demented.”
Rushing waters. Always, his parents’ death weighed on his heart and mind. “You nailed it.” He shook off the sad memories. “Let’s try something. I’m going to play a few musical notes on my cell phone, and you try to picture the sound waves and block them with a golden shield.” Tombi withdrew his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. Ready to try?”
Annie nodded.
He hit Play.
Annie screwed up her face. A minute passed.
“Annie? Are you okay?”
She waved him off. “I’m concentrating.”
“Sweet Home Alabama” rocked on. When it ended, Tombi shut off his phone.
“Any luck, Annie?”
She opened her eyes and grinned. “Yes! Dammit, it freaking worked. Only for a few seconds, but it worked!”
What a relief, it actually worked. “Good. With practice you can do it for longer periods of time. Don’t do too much at first, or you’ll get exhausted.”
Tears rained down her cheeks. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“I can think of a few naughty ways you can express your gratitude,” he said with a wink.
Annie smiled. “Okay. I’m ready when you are.”
“Right here in the circle? Right now? Suits me fine.”
Annie sat up, resting on her knees and placing her hand on his shoulders. “Making love to you feels natural and right, whether in a sacred circle or not.” A grin swept her face as she tilted her neck upward. “If you’re still around, my dear great Ms. Belle, I suggest you leave immediately.”
CHAPTER 13
Tombi pulled Annie’s body against him so that his face nestled in her cleavage. For such a petite woman, her breasts were full and luscious. He knew she wore no bra, had been eyeing the peak of her nipples beneath her cotton T-shirt ever since she’d come home from the hospital and changed clothes. He liked that, with him, she was comfortable enough to let loose. Hell, he’d love Annie to loosen up enough that she’d want to parade naked whenever they were alone.
He cupped his hands beneath her breasts and turned his face into one of the ample mounds, kissing her through the thin cotton, until the fabric was wet and rough in his mouth.
Annie groaned and squeezed him tighter, reaching down and pressing her hand against his manhood. It bulged and chafed against his jeans, straining for release. She obliged by unbuttoning his pants and unzipping the jeans. Reluctantly, he withdrew from sucking a nipple, stood and hastily stepped out of his pants. He bent his knees to sit back down, but Annie had other ideas.
Her mouth was on him, taking in every inch. Tombi placed his hands on her head and ran his fingers through her soft hair.
Sweet, sweet Annie. It felt so damn good. This was what he wanted. Needed. To experience her in every way. But if she didn’t stop... Tombi tugged at her hair, and she withdrew.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice rough and deep with passion.
“Not a damn thing. It’s just your turn.” He nodded at her clothes. “Take them off,” he demanded.
Annie gave a slow, seductive smile and stood, taking her sweet time as she lifted the shirt up over her breasts and then her head.
He could never get enough o
f this woman. Ever.
Even slower, Annie hooked her thumbs over her pink gym shorts, taking her lacy panties down with them. She stood before him naked. The sun streaming through the rear window cast beams on her slim figure, as if she were an angel sent from heaven.
Maybe she was.
Her hair cascaded around her shoulders and hips like a curtain. She was the epitome of everything feminine and mysterious. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, knowing the words were inadequate, but hoping she’d glean the strong emotion behind them.
A blush stained her cheeks, and he even found her sudden modesty touching. Soon, very soon, modesty would have no place in what they were about to do. Annie ducked her head, dark hair falling over olive skin.
Tombi took her hand and tugged. Gracefully, Annie sank beside him, fluid as water, and stretched her lithe body against the woven rug, covering the sun design at its center. She was a goddess. A witchy goddess, and he was completely under her spell. She affected him like no other woman he’d ever known.
He allowed some of his tight reserve to break free. He wanted to give, to share everything with Annie. With time and practice, he might be able to completely relax his tightly held energy field that separated him from others. One which he donned every morning like an armor.
Tombi parted her thighs and pressed his face into the folds of her hot core and tasted her soft essence. And now she was the one with her hands on his head, pressing him deeper and deeper. His tongue lavished her folds until she writhed against him.
“Now. I want you now,” she complained. “Please.”
He couldn’t wait, either. Tombi lay beside her and lifted her hips so that she straddled him. He entered her, and they moved together in the ancient dance of humankind.
It was an electrical storm of passion, as need rumbled in his heart and manhood. His blood pounded faster, straining and crackling in the tempest that was Annie. Her high-pitched moans roared in his mind, but he held back his own release until her thighs and core convulsed, signaling her climax. He let go all restraint, exploding like thunder deep within Annie.
She sank her body on top of his, and he ran his fingers through her hair, utterly sated.
“Am I getting heavy?” She slipped off him and folded herself against his side.
“Not at all.” He rested his hand on the slim curve of her hips and ran his fingers over the small of her back.
Annie yawned.
“Why don’t you take a nap?” he suggested. “It’s going to be a long night.”
“Does that mean we’re going to go look for the flute?” She propped up on her elbow, eyes aglow.
“It does.”
“This will be fun. A treasure hunt.”
Huh. When was the last time he’d had an enjoyable hunt? Never, actually. He vowed not to get his hopes up about finding the flute. He could just enjoy the night with Annie and help her practice blocking skills and the ability to maneuver in the darkness together.
Tombi gently kissed her cheek. “Sleep well. For tonight, we hunt.”
* * *
Kee-eeeee-ar. Three seconds elapsed. Kee-eeeee-ar. Another three seconds of silence.
Her hawk followed them as they went deeper into the woods, and after the initial surprise, Annie found the bird’s calls reassuring. He was guarding her, offering his protection. She took it as a good omen. A sign that something special would take place this evening.
Annie gripped Tombi’s hand firmly, determined to match his long strides. The waning moon didn’t provide much light. Not even will-o’-the-wisp smoke glowed in the forest, not that she could see much at any rate.
Tombi stopped abruptly, and she realized she was on the muddy bank where she’d first met him and where Bo had first appeared. So much had happened since then, it seemed like months ago instead of a mere week.
“This is where my ancestors once prayed and petitioned the great spirits. And it’s where they imprisoned Nalusa.”
“Do you know which tree to check for the flute?” she whispered close to his ear.
“There’s only one that has a hollow in its center.”
Annie kept walking beside him and almost ran into the towering oak a few feet in front of them.
“This is it.” Tombi dropped her hand and peered into the opening.
Suspense shivered along her spine. “Well? Do you see anything?”
He straightened. “Nothing. It’s empty.”
Shock doused her faith. “But... I don’t get it. We were led here.” She forgot to whisper, so deep was her disappointment. “Are you sure there’s nothing in there?” She peered down the tree hollow for herself but couldn’t make out anything in the darkness.
“Positive.”
Annie kicked the tree, angry tears of disappointment welling under her eyelids. She hadn’t realized how much she’d depended on the legend being true. She’d wanted to be a help to Tombi, especially after all he was doing for her. Instead, she looked like a fool. An optimistic, mystical idiot chasing unicorns. “Damn it. Why’d they even bother making contact with me if it’s all nothing but a myth?”
“Hey, it was worth exploring,” he said gently, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I didn’t expect anything tonight. No harm done.”
“No harm?” She laughed bitterly against his chest. “Feels like our last chance was snatched away.”
“We’ll keep trying to contact Bo. If he can identify who’s destroying us from the inside, we might be able to regroup. And it’s still possible you might pick up a sign around one of the hunters during an unguarded moment.”
“I’ll do anything,” she promised.
Tombi pulled away and regarded her sternly. “Nothing risky. There’s still much you have to learn.”
“Then teach me. Now.”
He looked around the woods. “Not here. Let’s head home.”
Home. The sweet sound of the word rumbled inside her with longing. Don’t make too much of it. Tombi hadn’t said he loved her, and he clearly had no designs for long-range planning, other than to do his duty by his people.
If only they could have met under different circumstances. Well, she wasn’t giving up yet. There must be something she could do, some way to help Tombi, other than being with him on a hunt in case she heard Bo or an approaching wisp before he heard it. She vowed to find a way. She’d come out alone and find Bo, ask him what had happened to the flute. She’d work spells to find the betrayer, ask her hawk to lead her to the flute, if there was one, and visit every single hunter on her own in the hopes of catching them off guard—especially Tallulah. And if Grandma Tia came home soon, she could be a powerful ally in sorting out this dilemma.
Black shadows lightened by degrees to silver and ash. Perhaps Tombi was right that, with practice, her night vision would acclimate, or at least not be so dismally poor. There was so little time left, and she needed to work every second to hone her own skills and prepare for the next shadow encounter.
His battle had become her battle, as well. They were a team. No matter what happened the next full moon, Annie knew she’d never leave the bayou, would never leave Tombi and this dangerous, mysterious, haunting bayou world.
It was in her blood. Her crazy, mixed Cajun/Native American/Caucasian blood that fit in nowhere but Bayou La Siryna. Crazy Annie could live here in this crazy swampland. And she wanted to share this life with Tombi.
She loved him.
And she’d take what time they had together, whatever Tombi was willing to share, whatever the number of weeks before the shadow world might smother the light and capture their souls. Annie gripped Tombi’s hand as they walked in the dark woods, aware of his hot body, his energy expanding to include her in a protective shield.
Back at the cabin, Tombi lit the fire pit on the deck. “I’d hoped not to frighten y
ou too much, but if you’re going to go in the woods at night, you need to know about all the night’s creatures.”
“You mean, there’s more?” Annie shuddered, remembering Nalusa as a giant snake.
“You’ve seen the worst, but there are others besides Nalusa, the wisps and the birds of the night. If you hear a fox bark or an owl screech, others of their kind will bark and screech in reply. You already know that these animal sounds foretell bad news. But if an animal makes a noise and there’s no like response, it means that the shilombish is imitating the animal to cause trouble and grief.”
“The shilombish?” she asked.
“A restless spirit who roams the earth.”
“What do they look like?”
“They have no shape or form, but are merely spirit. They can’t hurt you. Their only power is to frighten and confuse people.”
She shook her head, bewildered at the news that the dark force was even stronger than she first realized. “Why don’t the wisps capture these spirits?”
“Because they are the outside shadows. The wisps can only capture the shilup, men’s inside shadow, which is supposed to cross to the land of ghosts after death.”
“So the spirit that helped me that night was a shilup.”
“Right. You have nothing to fear from them. They long to leave the bayou as quickly as they can. And there are a few other supernatural beings who won’t harm you, but it’s best if you know of their existence.”
Wow. Annie wondered if her grandma was aware of all this. If so, she’d never even hinted at it.
Tombi poked the fire with a stick, and an arc of sparks crackled. “There’s Kashehotapalo, who’s a combination of man and deer. Even though he’s frightened hunters in the past, our people admire him for his speed and agility. He’s harmless unless you rouse his anger. In that case, he will find your enemy and warn them of your presence.”
Such a creature was hard to visualize; it sounded so far-fetched. “Have you seen him?”
“I caught a glimpse of him once. Otherwise, I would never have believed he existed and put the legend down as a fairy tale.”
