by Megan Hart
“Oh, yeah? On what evidence, you...you jackass?”
He ignored the gibe. “Ever since we met, the shadows have grown more powerful, Nalusa has infiltrated our ranks, and the inner circle has crumbled. No one trusts anyone else.”
A cold fury tingled along Annie’s spine. “I’m not in league with anybody. And neither is your sister.”
“I want to believe you.”
The anguish in his eyes softened her temper. “I understand that you have to suspect the worst of most people. But I thought we had something special.”
He drew her to him, resting his chin on the top of her head. “We do.”
The warm, husky voice made her tingle inside, and her thighs tightened. This part, the physical attraction, was so easy between them. If only everything else could be.
“Come back to the cabin with me,” he urged, pressing his need against her core.
Annie’s breath caught. She wanted to so much. To bury her heartache and disappointment in his kisses, to feel him inside her, pulsing, their bodies electric with desire. It took all her strength to step out of the warmth and safety of his arms.
“No.”
“Why not? It’s so damn good between us, Annie.”
“In bed. But I want more than that. If you can’t love me, I at least want your trust. One hundred percent.”
“I’m working on it. Isn’t that good enough for now?”
No. She’d tried to make Evan love and respect her, but it only ended with her doing all the giving. She wanted Tombi, but only if he could love her as she was. Nothing less would do.
“Don’t hurt me any more than you already have. The longer we’re together, the more I need to know you love and trust me. I’m done with one-sided relationships.”
He gave a reluctant nod. “Best we end it now. There’s nothing more I can teach you about blocking sound anyway.” He started to the door and then stopped. “You’ll let me know if your hawk brings you the flute, won’t you? The full moon is in two weeks. We’ll need it.”
“I’ll do my best to get it back,” she promised. “I’ll still help you any way I can. That hasn’t changed.”
He opened the door and stared into the night. “Will you be safe?”
“I managed twenty-seven years without your protection,” Annie pointed out. “And at least for tonight, Tallulah’s staying over.”
“If you need me, call me.”
Annie followed Tombi and shut the door behind him. She leaned her back against it and closed her eyes. It would be so easy to stop him, to go back to his cabin and enjoy his lovemaking. No, she’d done the right thing. Too much had been either said or left unsaid between them.
The rattle of his truck engine faded.
He was gone.
Annie took a shuddering breath. If Tombi knew what she’d planned for the evening, he would have never left. Quickly, before she lost courage, Annie went to the altar and picked up the mojo bag she’d infused with power. She tied it to a belt loop on her jeans and blew out the candle. On the way out, she grabbed a flashlight from the bookshelf near the entryway.
The black night was sticky with humid moisture as she gently shut the door, not wanting to wake her guest. But if Tallulah hadn’t awoken when Tombi came over, she wasn’t going to get up now.
Good. Best to proceed on this task on her own. Bo had never come to her while she and Tombi sought him together. She suspected his strength to communicate while trapped in a wisp was a difficult feat, easier attempted when he only had to concentrate on one human gifted to hear his voice.
With each step to the woods, Annie relaxed her mind and opened her hearing. The buzz of mosquitoes and the guttural music of bullfrogs were an instant, familiar backdrop. Amazing how the weeks training with Tombi had allowed her to adjust her supernatural hearing at will.
The elliptical beam of the flashlight guided her steps. Between its light and her night walk training with Tombi, her steps were quick, and the dark didn’t impede her as much as before.
The smell and taste of salt tickled her nose and the back of her throat. Strange how often taste was enhanced by a stronger sense of smell. She didn’t just absorb scent through her olfactory glands without it also arousing her taste buds.
Darkness descended further as she entered the woods. Annie stopped and leaned against the rough bark of a pine tree, switching off the flashlight. How far would she have to go in? She fingered the smooth flannel of her mojo bag.
The slightest snap of a twig and her breath seized. Was she being followed? She hardly dared breathe, straining to see or hear anything else in the silence of the swamp. Must have been a porcupine or squirrel. She shook off the fear and inhaled deeply.
“I’m here, Bo. Come to me,” she whispered.
A faint blue-green light skittered from afar.
“Closer, Bo. It’s okay, I’m alone.”
The orb streaked through the forest, leaving a comet tail of sparkles that illuminated the twisting tree branches above and tangled vines and saw palmettos beneath. It stopped and hovered several feet away, its inner heart pulsing, breathing color.
It worked. She gripped the mojo bag, crushing the herbs and releasing more of the scent, bolstering her confidence. The glowing light twisted its shape, the upper half bending and pointing westward. Figured he would want to go back to the Choctaw sacred grounds where they’d first met.
“I’ll follow you.”
The wisp’s glow made the flashlight unnecessary. A blue-and-green haze coated the air, painting teal brushstrokes everywhere. It felt like entering a strange, beautiful fairyland. She trudged along until the path grew less firm beneath her feet and became sludgy, the salt smell grew more pungent and her mouth puckered, briny as a pickle.
The light stood still.
“You came back,” Bo said, his voice faint but clear. He sounded weaker than their previous encounter.
“Yes. Tombi wants to free you. But first we need—”
“Such a good friend,” Bo said mournfully. “And Tallulah, my love, is nearby. She’s followed you.”
Aha. So that was what she’d heard earlier. “I thought I heard something. She’s desperate to talk with you.”
“No. It would only make her healing that much harder. I’m dead to her forever, and she must move on with her life.”
“I’ll give her your message. Knowing you care might help.” Annie hesitated to bring up the purpose of her visit, but she sensed their time together was brief. “Please, can you tell me the name of the person who’s been telling Nalusa the hunter’s plans and secrets? If we don’t find him soon, Tombi fears that they have no chance of winning. That, with the next full moon, Nalusa and his shadows will make a bold move to eliminate all of them.”
“Tombi’s right. Na haksichi is—”
“Bo!” Tallulah burst through from the path, long black hair streaming behind her, silver-streaked with moonlight. Her eyes were wild with a combination of grief and hope. “Is it really you?” She cast wild eyes on Annie. “What is he saying?”
The teal heart flame within the smoky wisp heated to an incandescent red that roared and cackled like an erupting forest fire. Annie took a step back from the wall of heat that singed her clothes and hair.
Tallulah dropped to her knees and held her hands out, imploring. “Take me with you, Bo. I only want to be with you.”
Annie’s own heart broke at seeing the proud woman so humbled and vulnerable. The woman warrior’s loss was so intense, and seeing Bo trapped as a spirit had to be devastating.
“No!” Bo’s voice rang out so loud it vibrated the earth beneath Annie’s feet.
“It is you,” Tallulah whispered in awe. “Even I heard you just now.”
Annie knelt in front of Tallulah. “I need to talk to Bo. We have to find out
the name of the betrayer.”
“He approaches now,” Bo warned. “Run!”
Annie scrambled to her feet and looked behind her. But this time she could make out nothing in the darkness. Except a stealthy footfall advancing toward them, one she had heard before. It teased the back of her brain like a spider crawling up her arm. “We have to go,” she said, tugging at Tallulah’s arm.
Tallulah didn’t spare Annie a glance. She was transfixed by the fire that was once her lover, had eyes only for the conflagration burning at the wisp’s center.
“C’mon,” she urged, pulling harder.
The vibrations underfoot grew stronger, faster, more sure. Na haksichi, the traitor, was near. Annie dropped Tallulah’s arm and stood, slowly turning around, dread prickling her spine.
Hanan’s eagle eyes pierced the night, the topaz glints in his pupils like ground star chips.
“You,” she breathed out, past the lump of fear in her throat. “You are the one.”
His smile emphasized the sharp beak of his nose, and his white teeth were prominent as a chomping wolf’s. “Just as you suspected at the start.”
“Tombi had so much faith in you.”
“Tombi.” He spit out the name in apparent distaste. “He’s leading us down a path of sure destruction. We are outnumbered. He should have compromised with Nalusa long ago.”
“What kind of bargain have you struck with the devil?”
“One that allows me to live.”
“And to hell with your friends? Your family? What kind of life is that?”
The wisp moved between her and Hanan.
“Be gone,” Hanan commanded. His voice screeched like the talons of an eagle scraping glass. “You have no power here, Bohpoli. I killed you.”
Tallulah shrieked, her banshee wail echoing through the swamp. She rose to her feet and stumbled past Annie. “You killed my Bo? Why?”
“Because he caught me with Nalusa. And because he was the most skillful hunter, the best shot.”
Tallulah leaped at Hanan, screaming and clawing. He shoved her, and she tumbled several feet away.
“Stupid woman,” he hissed. “You’re weak. So weak you were in my bed only weeks after Bo’s death.”
The fire orb popped and hissed.
Hanan cast it a sharp glance. “By Nalusa’s power, I command you to be gone, wisp.”
The elongated smoky form of the wisp expanded, grew more dense and gray, smothering the light of Bo’s trapped spirit. It skittered away in a heartbeat.
“Don’t leave me behind,” Tallulah wailed after the fleeing wisp.
Hanan said, face scrunched in contempt, “Shut up.”
Annie stepped between them. “Why are you doing this?”
“The reign of Nalusa and the shadows is imminent. Might as well join them and share in the power. Tombi is an obstinate, stupid fool.”
Anger burned in her gut. “He’s not. He’s a decent, honorable man.”
“Who will die a horrible death.” Hanan advanced slowly and deliberately.
“And so will you. Nalusa has no use for you. He’ll kill you when this is over.”
“I’ve worked out my deal. I’ll be a rich man. All I have to do is provide him the flute.” Hanan swooped upon her, grabbing her arm and clutching her, digging into her flesh, past muscle and to the bone.
Annie clenched her teeth, not wanting to give Hanan the satisfaction of hearing the whimper clawing at her throat.
Hanan’s breath was hot on her face, and the topaz glints glittered like the eyes of a wild predator. “Call your hawk. I want that flute. Now.”
So he knew. He probably knew everything, had hung back in the shadows and watched and waited for this opportunity.
“No,” she ground out.
“Yes.”
He shook her until her head bobbed like flotsam on the wave of a storm. “Do it,” he growled.
“Or what?”
“Or you die. Tonight.”
“You can’t kill me. Without me, my hawk will never return the flute.”
“Listen to me, witch. Call the hawk now, or you’ll deal with Nalusa.”
“And you won’t get your reward,” she shot back.
Hanan abruptly let go of her arm. “I don’t have Nalusa’s power, but I can give you a taste of what you can expect if I don’t get your cooperation.”
The screeching of a flock of owls and eagles erupted between her ears, a squall of birds of prey caught in a storm wind. Annie clamped her hands over her ears and bent at the waist, staggering backward. The sound stopped abruptly.
“It can get so much worse,” Hanan warned.
Tallulah roused herself and came to Annie’s side. “Leave her alone.”
“That’s rich,” he sneered. “Only a couple of days ago, you hated Annie, said she was a witch who couldn’t be trusted. You’re a fickle lover and friend, Tallulah.”
Fury wiped out the grief still evidenced by the tears on her cheeks. “And you’re a bastard,” she spat.
Hanan shrugged. “You’re no longer important.” He turned his eagle eyes on Annie. “Back to business.”
Tallulah wedged between them, her back to Hanan, and raised her arms as if to hold him back. “Run, Annie! Go, get Tombi.”
How she wanted to. Every cell in her body screamed flee. But she couldn’t leave Tallulah alone with the enemy. Still...they would both be better off if one of them escaped and got help.
“You go,” Annie urged.
Hanan laughed. “Run home, little girl. By the time you get your big, bad brother it will be too late.”
Tallulah raised her eyebrows at Annie in a silent question.
Annie nodded.
Tallulah sprang from them and disappeared into the night.
A sardonic smile perched the corners of Hanan’s thin lips. “Like I said. Fickle.”
Her palms and underarms itched with sweat. What would he do now? “Even if I wanted to help you, I can’t,” she said calmly, hoping to reach some rational part of his mind not contaminated by Nalusa. “I’ve never tried to command my animal spirit. I don’t know if I can.”
“For your sake, this better work,” he said quietly.
The kind of quiet that meant business.
The kind of quiet that was the whisper of the wind before the swooshing gale.
Infinitely more menacing than the noisy whirlwind he’d stirred moments before in her brain.
Some good her special petition and mojo bag had been. Annie’s lips numbed with dread. She was alone and powerless in the midst of the most forsaken swampland on earth, alone with a heartless hunter who’d turn his own mother over to the devil if it meant gaining power.
* * *
“You left her alone out there in the woods?” Tombi slammed his fist on the counter and glared at his twin.
“I’m more help to her as a messenger than if I had stayed behind.” Tallulah raised her chin. “Hanan would have taken us both hostage, and you would never have known until it was too late.”
Hanan. Someone he’d known since childhood. Tombi remembered playing baseball with Hanan, their initiation into the hunter’s world on their nineteenth birthdays. The friend who’d attended his parents’ funeral, and the one who had helped him cut wood and hewn logs for the cabin he’d built.
His sister pulled out her phone. “I’m calling Chulah and the others. They can meet us here in fifteen minutes. Together, we might have a chance.”
“You stay behind. I’m leaving now.” Tombi rushed to get his knapsack and slung it over his shoulders. He had to get to Annie. Visions of Hanan torturing her clawed at his guts. He should never have left her earlier. Tallulah had been no protection.
“Don’t be stupid. What difference can fift
een minutes make?”
“Every second I’m apart from her is agony,” he answered shortly.
Tombi rushed to the den and grabbed his keys from the fireplace mantel. If he drove his truck through the field to where the path started at the edge of the woods, it would save a couple minutes. More important, he wouldn’t waste energy. He’d need every last ounce of strength to save Annie.
“Give me the keys,” Tallulah snapped. “I’ll drive you to the path and come back. You don’t need to drive in your condition.”
“Then move it.” Tombi flew down the porch stairs and climbed into the truck.
Tallulah acted just as quickly, revving the engine and then slamming her foot on the accelerator. Headlights framed a square, narrow tableau of shadows and masses of swarming mosquitoes. The old truck bounced up and down on the uneven, rough soil, enough to make his teeth chatter.
And still it wasn’t fast enough. “Hurry,” he urged.
“I’m going as fast as I can. When I left they were on the edge of the salt marsh, near where Bo’s body was found. You remember the spot?”
As if he could ever forget. “Yes. Anything else I should know?”
“No. Only...” She hesitated.
“What?” he asked brusquely. Could this situation get any worse?
“I have to give your lady credit—she insisted I leave. She stood her ground with Hanan. Never would have believed that tiny slip of a girl had it in her when we first met.”
“She’s not a girl, she’s a woman.” How many times had he said that same thing? Appearances were deceiving. Annie had depth and talent and compassion...and didn’t even realize her own worth.
“And you love her,” his sister stated matter-of-factly.
Love? Tombi scowled. Now wasn’t the time nor the place for thoughts of love. He gripped the door handle, ready to pounce as soon as the truck slowed.
Tallulah raised a brow. “It’s okay to be in love. It doesn’t make you weaker.”
“So you say,” he grumbled. The truck came to a shuddering halt at the path, and he prepared to leap.
His twin laid a hand on his shoulder. “And she loves you, too. I can tell.”
