by Megan Hart
“Why not?”
“I think you were duped. You weren’t out seeking Nalusa and trading information for your own benefit. I believe what you said, only wanting to conjure Bo.”
Tallulah set her cup down. “You’re right,” she answered softly.
“Tell me who put you up to it.”
“Nobody. One of the archaeology crews found that old flute on a dig, and they brought it to the Cultural Center to be archived. I always guessed that it held powerful magic. Then yesterday, when everyone went home after five, something came over me. I had to have that flute. I can’t explain it.”
Annie nodded. “Go on.”
“That’s it. I went out to the woods, and this crazy notion wouldn’t get out of my brain that if I played it, Bo would magically appear.”
“Nalusa must have planted that idea in your brain, then.”
Tallulah’s brow furrowed. “But the flute makes Nalusa weaker, forces him to appear as himself and not in snake form. Why would he want me to play it?”
“Because, even weakened, Nalusa could take you on, one-on-one, without interference from the other hunters. Then he’d grab the flute and take it back into his possession. Your tribe would lose its best chance to capture him at the next full moon.”
Tallulah nodded slowly. “Makes sense. Wish my brother had reasoned everything in his mind before jumping to conclusions.”
“He’s too close to the situation to react logically. He’ll come around.” Tombi might forgive his sister for bad judgment, but the fact remained that he didn’t love her. Nothing about their relationship would change for the better.
“Don’t hold your breath,” Tallulah mumbled.
Annie stiffened in the chair, back to pondering the mystery. “I’m disappointed that it wasn’t another hunter who gave you the idea that you had the power to contact Bo. Because if it had been one of them, we’d know the real betrayer.”
They sipped their tea in glum silence until Tallulah spoke again. “Not only did the flute fail me, but if anyone at the Center finds out it’s missing, I can kiss my job goodbye.”
Well, she did steal the flute from her employer, but Annie bit her lip. Who was she to judge? Nalusa’s influence must be a powerful thing. And at least Tallulah was opening up to her a bit.
Tallulah regarded her thoughtfully. “Why won’t Bo talk to me? We were in love. He never even met you.”
“Don’t take it personal. I hear things no one else can.”
“Can you try to contact him again?” Tallulah grasped Annie’s hand. “And take me with you. Please?”
That was exactly what she’d do. Initiate contact. Many nights she’d wanted to sneak away into the bayou and try to find Bo, but Tombi wouldn’t hear of it. They had sought him together, but no luck. Secretly, Annie thought Bo wasn’t able to risk talking to anyone but her.
“I’ll try to reach Bo tonight, but alone. You can’t come with me. It won’t work with you around. You’re a distraction to him.”
Tallulah’s eager expression fell to one of resigned misery. “Okay.” She gulped. “Thank you for trying and...thanks for believing in me when my own brother didn’t.”
So the seemingly unbreakable warrior woman wasn’t all badass. She had a heart that had been broken and bludgeoned. A feeling Annie knew all too well. “You’re welcome,” Annie said softly. She rose and gathered up the dirty cups and saucers.
Tallulah placed a hand on her arm. “Tombi is a fool if he doesn’t love you.”
* * *
He was a damn idiot.
Tombi stood on the porch and stared out at the night. Where was Annie? Was she okay? He pulled out the cell phone from his jeans pocket and then angrily stuffed it back in. There was no need to call. She’d told him she loved him, and he’d just stared at her and said nothing. He’d lost the right to know where she chose to spend her evenings.
The cabin was silent and empty without Annie. How quickly he’d grown accustomed to her presence.
A spherical beam of light turned from the main road onto the dirt road leading to his cabin. About time Hanan and Chulah showed up.
Tombi pushed off from the railing and paced the porch. Telling them the news wasn’t going to be easy. They would be almost as torn about Tallulah as he was. Hanan especially. He didn’t know how deep their feelings for each other went. Or, as Tallulah implied, if they were merely friends with benefits. Ugh. Not how he wanted to think of his sister.
The old Chevy truck doors squeaked as the hunters jumped out of Chulah’s pickup. Hanan’s silver sheriff’s badge glinted like a miniature star. “What’s up?” Hanan asked, direct as always. His eyes were as sharp and focused as the eagle he was named after. Once he swooped in on a problem, he never let go until he was satisfied every stone had been turned. It made him an excellent officer.
“We have a problem,” Tombi answered.
Chulah bounded the porch steps, face crafty and searching. “Where’s Tallulah? She should be here, too. We always meet together when there’s trouble.”
“Tallulah is the trouble.”
Fear danced in Chulah’s brown eyes. “Is she okay?”
Best to just spit it out. “Tallulah’s our traitor.”
“No way. She’d never do that,” Chulah said, voice pitched low and fierce.
Hanan stuffed his hands into his uniform pockets and frowned. “Hard to believe. How can you be sure?”
“The ancient flute that we once searched for and couldn’t find? Turns out, it’s a real thing after all. Tallulah has it. I caught her playing it in the woods today.”
Shock registered on his friends’ faces.
“But that’s great news,” Chulah protested. “She found it for us, and now we can use it to capture Nalusa.”
“You say you caught her,” Hanan said slowly. “Did she admit to revealing our secrets to Nalusa?”
“Of course she didn’t admit anything. But she’s desperate. Somehow she got it in her head that the flute would help her contact Bo’s spirit. Tallulah would stop at nothing to hear from Bo.” A kind of madness must have eaten away at Tallulah’s mind. Her grief over Bo went far deeper than Tombi had realized. And someone suffering such grief was a target for Nalusa and the shadows. It made a person easy prey to whisper false promises. A seduction to the mystery of the night.
Chulah’s face crumbled, and he stumbled down the porch steps, no doubt needing distance until he regained his composure.
“Where’s the flute now?”
As usual, Hanan cut to the heart of their situation. His friend hid his emotions well, buried them under logic and a determination to attack problems. Tombi didn’t see the attraction between Hanan and Tallulah, but there was no accounting for sexual chemistry. Personally, he’d rather Tallulah had chosen Chulah, an honorable man who’d quickly become his closest friend in the past few months. Hanan was honorable as well, but in a detached, intellectual manner.
Tombi sighed. “My sister threw it in the air, and a hawk flew off with it.”
“You didn’t have the opportunity to kill it?” Hanan asked.
“Annie stopped me. The hawk is her animal guide. Or so she believed.”
Chulah jerked around. “Where’s Annie now? I bet she’s behind everything. Not your sister.” He stomped onto the porch, warming to his theory. “That’s it. She’s been the one whispering in Tallulah’s ear about the flute, knowing Tallulah’s grief. And Annie knew Tallulah gets to examine artifacts as soon as the archaeologists bring them in from their digs. She’s the real traitor.”
Tombi winced. No. Not Annie. It couldn’t possibly be Annie. The porch tilted beneath his feet, and a rushing whirled like a tornado in his mind. Chulah had a point. A damn good one. He couldn’t be so duped...or could he? What if it were true? What if his sister were innocent?
Shame pounded through his veins. He’d brought Annie into their inner circle, had come to completely trust her and taught her all he knew. Worse, he’d accused his own sister of being the traitor.
So which was it: Annie or Tallulah? Lover or sister?
Both choices were unimaginable.
“Let’s not jump the gun,” Tombi said.
Chulah gritted his teeth. “Oh, but you were quick to accuse your own sister.”
True. Tombi didn’t defend himself. He needed proof. “Have you found out anything yet from the computer records?” he asked Hanan.
“Not yet. Pisa says the tech expert he trusts to be discreet in reviewing the phone records is still on vacation for a few days.”
“Isn’t there anyone else that can look at them to see who sent the text messages?”
“No one we trust. Besides, if the person was smart, they’d use a throwaway cell phone that’s untraceable.”
Tombi slammed a fist into the railing. “I suppose you’re right about that.” How was he going to figure this out before it was too late?
“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Chulah asked Hanan.
“Nothing. We could interrogate Annie and Tallulah, of course. But Pisa can’t do it in his official position as a sheriff’s deputy.”
“I’ll talk to Tallulah,” Chulah volunteered.
Some interrogation that would be. In Chulah’s eyes, Tallulah was an innocent.
“Might be best if I did it,” Hanan said calmly.
Tombi studied his friend. Just what kind of relationship did he have with Tallulah? You would think that the news the woman you’re sleeping with was a possible betrayer and could have killed you by sending information to the enemy would illicit a strong reaction. Yet nothing fazed Hanan, not even this.
Chulah, on the other hand, was distraught. Not for the first time, Tombi wished his twin had chosen Chulah. The man cared for her and was loyal in his defense of her character.
“I’ll talk to both of them,” Tombi said.
Chulah shot him a hard look. “I don’t see how you can be fair. Considering you’ve been sleeping with the enemy for the past two weeks.”
Heat burned his skin. “Careful, Chulah. My relationship with Annie is none of your business.”
“It is my business when she’s blinded you to the truth and disrupted our circle. What’s the matter with you? Our tribe comes before all else. Are you going to throw away your family and our bond and duty for...for...a piece of ass?”
Tombi stepped up to Chulah, got in his face. His fisted hands twisted by his sides. “Don’t you ever call her that again.”
Chulah glowered, and anger crackled between them.
“Stop it.” Hanan pushed them apart with both arms. “We have to work together.”
He was right. Damn it. Tombi stalked off, needing distance between him and his friends before he landed a punch or said something unforgivable.
Everything was falling apart. The beginning of the end unraveled before Tombi. Nalusa was winning the battle before it even started. For all he knew, Hanan or Chulah might be the real betrayer. Maybe Chulah was emotionally unstable and Hanan a little too cool and calculating. His inner circle had collapsed.
“Where are you going?” Chulah called.
“To find the truth.”
“We’ll go with you,” Hanan offered. “No sense in you walking in the woods at night by yourself. We can drive to Tallulah’s place in the truck.”
Tombi faced them. “I need to do this alone. Don’t follow me.”
Hanan nodded, and Chulah frowned but made no move to join him.
Tombi turned away from the faces of his closest friends, from the light and comfort of the cabin he’d built with his own hands, and marched into the gloomy darkness of the swamp. His arms prickled with a chill that defied the Alabama heat. He plodded forward, his heart hardening to stone—so hard it could be ripped from his chest and used to sling at a will-o’-the-wisp.
The fall of footsteps sounded behind him, but Tombi didn’t bother turning. He recognized the vibration of the footsteps, as familiar to him as a voice.
“Here.” Hanan thrust something large and heavy against his right shoulder. “Don’t be stupid.”
Tombi grabbed the leather straps of his knapsack that was loaded with rocks and other hunting supplies and armored himself. How many times had he entered the woods laden with pounds of stones on his back? Too many to count. And yet he and the other hunters barely made a dent in fighting Nalusa and the night’s shadows.
He kept moving forward. It was all he could do. Just keep showing up in the face of the odds stacked against him and his people.
“I put your phone in there,” Hanan said. “Call me if you need backup.”
Tombi flipped an arm in the air, acknowledging that he heard. But this was something he needed to do on his own. No one else knew Annie or Tallulah as well as he. Surely, whichever of them was lying, he’d be able to extricate their deception.
He stepped onto the path and into the woods. Cicadas and frogs chirruped and harrumphed in a bayou symphony. Mosquitoes buzzed by his ears and nipped at the unprotected skin of his neck and forearms. He swatted at them absently, eager to question the two women at the heart of the treachery. He could believe Tallulah had succumbed to grief, thus allowing herself to be in a weakened, vulnerable state that Nalusa preyed upon.
But Annie?
Sweet, sweet Annie. Memories flashed in his mind—the soft curve of her naked hips, her eyes darkening with passion, her fingers tracing his lips and jaw. Her sunny smile as she learned to block sound for the first time, her sorrow at her grandma’s ill health, the special tea she brewed when he was hurt, the sound of her voice in their kitchen as they cooked together in the evenings.
Their kitchen. He’d come to think of the cabin as their special place. A mysterious, sexy, caring, complicated woman who had become a part of his life. Yet, he had to question her. Had to be sure she hadn’t deceived him right from the start.
CHAPTER 16
The candle flame danced a red-hot tango, dipping and swerving to its own unheard music, leaving in its wake a hissing and popping of spent passion. Miss Belle was in the house, tripping the light fantastic. Annie knew it before she smelled the licorice and myrrh scent. She placed the grimoire on the altar top, opening it to the middle. She untied the strings of her mojo bag and placed it on the exposed pages marked with handwritten magical root-working recipes.
“Bless these herbs and infuse them with holy power. May they draw Bo’s spirit close to me and help him speak this evening.”
The pressure of a warm hand patted her shoulder. It is done.
Weeks ago, a physical manifestation of a long-dead ancestor would have sent her screaming from the room, but now, Annie welcomed Miss Belle’s reassuring contact.
Tonight, she would speak with Bo and get the name of the betrayer. After that, it was a matter of convincing her animal spirit to return the ancient flute. Her hawk wouldn’t desert her and betray her trust. He just wouldn’t.
A sharp rapping blasted the cottage’s quiet. Annie glanced at the clock in the den: eleven thirty. Tallulah had cried herself to sleep in Tia Henrietta’s bedroom over an hour ago. The muffled sobs from her grandma’s room wouldn’t have been audible to anyone but Annie. She and Tallulah might never become the best of friends, but Annie recognized there was some good in Tallulah. She was capable of great love.
Too bad her twin wasn’t.
It had to be Tombi making that racket. Knocking in an arrogant, haughty way with no regard for the people inside. What did he care if she was asleep? He’d decided to talk at last, and that was all that mattered to him.
Annie worked up a righteous indignation. Better that than be a whining, pining fool who’d laid bare her soul. S
he jerked open the door. “What do you want?”
Tombi glowered, face set in harsh, grim lines. His brown eyes appeared hard as blackened, burned coal. What the hell was he mad about? He hadn’t had his love thrown back in his face. She was the injured party here.
“We need to talk.”
“Well, I don’t want—”
He pushed past her and strode into the middle of the den, filling the feminine vibe of the cottage with a bit of the dangerous night that cloaked his aura. He smelled like smoldering wood chips and damp peat and moss and cypress. Intoxicating but dangerous.
Annie didn’t budge from the doorway. “Say what you want and then leave. I was getting ready to go to bed.”
A flicker of something—passion?—chased across his face, and Annie winced at her choice of words. Bed conjured up images of snuggling in Tombi’s arms, of his skin golden in the moonlight, naked and smooth beneath her touch. Tangled bedsheets and groans and whispers and... Annie bit the inside of her mouth to stop the memories. “Why are you here?” she asked, knowing the hoarseness of her voice tipped him off to the passionate direction her mind had leaped to.
“Annie.” He came to her and ran a calloused hand over her face, brushing back a curly lock of hair. “You’re as much a mystery to me as the night we met,” he whispered.
“There’s nothing mysterious about me,” she denied. “You know me better than anyone. I shared everything with you.”
“Everything?”
“There are no secrets between us.”
Tombi abruptly dropped his hand to his side. “I want to believe that.”
“Why shouldn’t you?” Annie countered. “I’ve been open. I’ve held nothing back.” She swallowed painfully. She’d been too open, too trusting with her heart. And Tombi had crushed it.
He hardened his face and crossed his hands. “Tell me the truth. Are you in league with Nalusa? Does he have some kind of hold over you? Because if he does, I can help you break free.”
“What?” Annie rubbed her temple, confused at the questions. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Because I believe the betrayer is you or Tallulah.”
