Harlequin Nocturne March 2016 Box Set

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Harlequin Nocturne March 2016 Box Set Page 49

by Megan Hart


  “You can’t kill Nalusa Falaya. Not completely. All you can do is contain his power.” Tallulah pumped a fist in the air. “And we’ve done it!”

  Tombi held up a hand and silenced the cheers. A hush settled over the bayou, as profound as the windless calm before a hurricane. Tombi jerked on the rope and led Nalusa forward; the hunters fell in behind the two.

  “C’mon,” Tallulah urged.

  Mystified, Annie tagged along.

  Tombi broke out in song. His rich, deep baritone formed Choctaw words she couldn’t understand. He’d sing a chorus or two, and then the hunters would repeat the same lyric back, like a church reading.

  All singing stopped abruptly as Tombi approached a gigantic oak that looked as eternal as the land itself. The circumference of the tree must have been at least six feet, and its trunk and branches seemed to extend forever to the sky.

  “Please, let me go,” Nalusa whined like a toddler. “I promise to be good. Really. I won’t cause any more trouble.” His voice was high-pitched and scratchy.

  Tombi shook his head. “You cannot be trusted. Time to return to your home.” He picked up Nalusa and stuffed him into the large hollowed-out hole in the tree.

  Nalusa screamed and kicked, but he was no match for Tombi. He disappeared into the hole with a long wail that lingered and echoed through the bayou.

  A single coral ray from the rising sun cracked open the sky, and birds began chirping.

  Real birds, normal birds. Not the piercing shrieks of the ishkitini. Their voices were like a blessing and benediction, nature’s omen of the triumph of good over evil. A great weariness settled in Annie’s bones as the pump of adrenaline crashed, recognizing Tombi was out of danger and her work was done.

  Tombi retrieved the ancient flute from his jeans pocket and blew on it three times—short, staccato bursts. He raised both arms, lifting the flute skyward. “Let peace return to Bayou La Siryna. May Nalusa Falaya and his power over the shadow beings be forever constrained to this ancient tree until the end of time. May our ancestors look upon us now with favor, and may the sun’s warming shine bless our work here today. We ask in the name of all that is holy and right and just.”

  “Ikahli. Amen,” Tallulah muttered at Annie’s side.

  Tombi lowered his arms and placed the flute inside the hollowed oak and turned to them. “It’s over,” he said simply. “Finally. Thank you, my friends.” He nodded at his sister. “I see we are all one again.” A shadow crossed his face. “Except for Bo.”

  Tallulah spoke up. “Bo’s spirit was released tonight. He’s at peace.” Her voice broke slightly at the end, and Chulah made his way to her, encircling her waist with an arm.

  Annie smiled at his act of caring. Surely one day Tallulah would recognize he loved her, and she could move on from her grief.

  “But there is still one thing left to do,” Tombi declared.

  The hunters looked at one another quizzically.

  Tombi marched to where Annie stood and took her hands in hers. “I owe you my life. We owe you our lives. Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible. At last, I can tell you what is in my heart.”

  He dropped to one knee, and Annie gasped.

  “I love you, Annie Matthews. Will you marry me?”

  CHAPTER 20

  “The Blood Moon of October is a-comin’ tonight. Yer life will never be the same,” Tia Henrietta announced, sprinkling herbs and roots into a mojo bag. Despite the dour words, a broad smile chased away the deep hollows in her face. “Bet you won’t be burnin’ no slips of paper at midnight, prayin’ for the Good Lord to remove yer hearin’ gift.”

  “I have everything I want.” Annie patted her grandma’s hand, still frail from her recent ordeal, but once again adorned with rings in an explosion of crystal colors. “It’s good to have you home again. You concentrate on getting your strength back.”

  Tia sniffed. “I’m fine now I’m back home. And I intend to be around a long, long time.”

  “Your heart—”

  “Is fine,” Tia interrupted. A flush darkened her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze to the mojo bag. “Never nuthin’ wrong with it in the first place.”

  “Wh-what are you saying?” Annie stammered.

  “Now, don’t you be givin’ me that look. I had to get you down here and to visit longer than a few weeks. A little fib never hurt nobody.”

  “Little fib?” Her spine stiffened, and she took a step back. “How could you lie to me like that? I was worried sick about you.”

  Tia Henrietta grabbed Annie’s hand. “Don’t get yer dander up. I had a vision you were needed in Bayou La Siryna and that you would learn to appreciate yer special gift.” Tia’s lips trembled. “Yer all I have in the world.”

  Annie softened at the admission. It wasn’t easy for her grandma to swallow her pride. And until a few weeks ago, Grandma Tia was all she truly had in the world, as well. How could she be angry when this morning she was right where she was meant to be, surrounded by love? She bent down and kissed the top of Tia’s head. “I’m glad you’re all right. But no more secrets between us. Okay?”

  “Deal.” Tia resumed her work, and the ethereal scent of crushed rose petals filled the den. “I intend to be around to see my great-grandchildren one day.”

  Annie rolled her eyes. “We’re not in any hurry for that. I’m going to the kitchen to see if Tallulah needs any help.”

  Cozy kitchen smells replaced the herbal scents from the den. She watched Tallulah transfer hoecakes from an iron skillet to a plate on the counter, and marched over.

  “Mmm.” Annie spread butter on a cake and bit in. Creamy sweetness melded with the crispy fried corn bread in an explosion of awesomeness.

  Tallulah shot her a sideways glance, a smile tugging her lips. “Heard y’all wouldn’t be doing one of your witchy ceremonies tonight at the full moon. Good thing my brother will be keeping you busy until dawn.”

  Warmth flooded Annie’s cheeks, and she almost choked on a bit of hoecake. Hastily, she poured a glass of sweet tea and took a long swallow.

  A sharp ping bounced against the front door.

  Annie grinned. “Is that—”

  “It is.”

  Annie put down her glass and turned toward the front door.

  “Not so fast.” Tallulah tugged at her sleeve. “Our custom is to make the groom wait. He can’t think you’re too eager.”

  Annie groaned. “Really? Or is this some sibling thing where you take any opportunity to tease and torment each other?”

  “He’s too arrogant for his own good,” she said, laughing. “I try to take him down a notch when the opportunity arises.”

  A barrage of thuds assaulted the door.

  “What’s all that racket?” Tia called from the den.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Annie said, rushing to the front porch. She jerked open the door and blinked. Tombi stood on the steps—tall and dark and long black hair glistening in the sun. In honor of the occasion, he wore a colorfully beaded leather vest and had two narrow braids by the sides of his face with crow and eagle feathers woven in the plaits.

  Every time she saw him, her heart rang to know that this magnificent man was hers. Crazy Annie had struck gold.

  “About time,” he muttered.

  Tallulah smiled as she walked up. “Impatient, Tombi?”

  “Very,” he answered shortly.

  The heat from his eyes warmed Annie to the core. He longed to make love again as much as she did, to spend the night together and wake up in the same bed come morning. Ever since Grandma Tia had returned from the hospital three weeks ago, she’d insisted her granddaughter return to the cottage. Arguing about her old-fashioned notions of living together before marriage had been fruitless.

  Annie gave him a quick hug.
“It won’t be long now,” she whispered in his ear. He squeezed her in a bear hug, and she laughed and pushed at his chest.

  He stepped back with obvious reluctance. “You look beautiful,” he said gruffly.

  She ran a hand down the front of the vanilla, lacy dress that flowed down to her ankles. Grandma Tia had sewn it with much love and skill. Annie had woven fresh flowers into the bodice and made a matching floral garland for her hair. Like Tombi, she’d also braided two thin strips by her face and threaded in a few of the feathers Tombi’s hunters had given her after her ordeal with Hanan.

  “Thank you,” she said shyly. She bent and picked up one of the smooth, tumbled pebbles Tombi had thrown at the door. “So this is the heralded messenger of love?”

  He grinned and gave a mock bow. “A token of my affection.”

  “You accept it, and there’s no going back,” Tallulah warned with a snicker.

  “I’ll keep it forever.” Annie stared straight at Tombi as she spoke. Their ancient custom for a man to make an overture to a woman by tossing a pebble her way filled Annie with whimsical delight. She’d honor this stone as much as she did her engagement ring.

  Grandma Tia’s voice rang out from the den. “That you, Tombi? Come in,” she ordered.

  Tallulah took off her apron. “I’m going to gather with the rest of the guests outside.” She stood on her tiptoes and brushed Tombi’s cheek with a swift kiss. “You’ve got a good woman there,” she whispered, before slipping out the door.

  Annie took his strong hand in her own, and they entered the den.

  “For you,” Tombi said, holding out a beaded leather pouch to Tia. “It’s filled with natural cures and relics and blessed by our medicine man. He claims it will help strengthen your weak heart.”

  Annie suppressed a snort. Barely.

  Grandma Tia gave her a sharp stare before nodding to Tombi. “Thank you. Please, sit down.”

  They sat together on the edge of the sofa, across from Tia.

  “I have something for you, as well.” Tia placed a small red felt mojo bag in his hands.

  Tombi held it to his nose and sniffed. “What’s in here?”

  “Juniper berries, for passion and stamina. You know, in the bedroom.”

  “Grandma!” Annie blushed, mortified. As if Tombi needed that. He’d kill her if he had any more passion and stamina.

  Tombi winked at her.

  But, oh, what a glorious way to die.

  “I take it this means we have your blessing,” he said drily. “Thank you for the gift. I’ll be sure to put it to good use.”

  “You have something for me, too?” Annie asked, trying to turn the conversation.

  Tia produced a pink mojo bag tied with lavender ribbon and bulging with her grandma’s garden goodies. “I fed this here gris-gris with a bit o’ everything while I anointed it with my special marriage oil and recited verses from Song of Solomon. There’s catnip to captivate, red clover flowers fer a prosperous marriage, lavender fer romance and harmony, rose petals fer luck, and some juniper berries fer your passion to match Tombi’s.”

  “Sounds like you covered all the bases.” Annie suppressed a smile. “Including having the ceremony during the full-moon phase.”

  “Ain’t no use takin’ chances.” She fixed Tombi with a stern look of warning. “You best take good care of my Annie-girl.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He reached for Tia, his strong fingers closing over her frail hand. “I promise.”

  She grinned. “Well, don’t tell me. Tell it to the preacher.” Tia waved a hand. “Shoo.”

  Tombi rose and squeezed Annie’s shoulder. “I’ll be outside waiting for you.”

  It wouldn’t be long now. Annie stood and nervously adjusted the garland in her hair. At the door, Tombi paused and gave her another slow, sexy wink that made her knees turn to jelly.

  “Go on now,” Tia chuckled.

  The front door clicked shut, and Annie paced the pine floorboards. Tia stood watch at the window.

  “It’s time,” Grandma shouted. “Go!”

  Annie took a deep breath.

  “I’ll be joining the rest of the folks out there.” She kissed Annie’s forehead. “Yer Tombi’s a good man. Now git going.”

  No more waiting. No more lonely nights. No more unlovable Crazy Annie. Excitement bubbled inside. She couldn’t wait another moment.

  Annie burst out the front door and into the warm sunlight. They were all there. Off to one side of the field stood Tallulah, Miss Verbena, dozens of Grandma Tia’s friends and customers, Chulah and all of the former shadow hunters.

  And Tombi. Looking as handsome and sexy as she’d ever seen him. Chulah stood at his side, holding his arms. Tallulah broke from the pack and waved her arms at Annie. “Run!”

  She bounded down the porch steps and hit the ground running, conscious of all eyes upon her. No simple wedding march would do for this occasion. She bunched a fistful of the ankle-length dress and ran through the field, feet pounding red clay. No high heels, but the dainty white sandals were an impediment nonetheless. Her heart pumped stronger, truer, in a joyful celebration of love and life. Halfway across the field, she spared a glance over her shoulder.

  Unleashed from his friends, Tombi began his chase. Long, loping strides that could easily outpace her. That wouldn’t do at all. Annie kicked off the sandals and pumped her legs faster. According to their custom, if he captured her too quickly, it meant either her love was weak or she was uneager to mate.

  Neither was true.

  Her lungs filled to bursting, and her labored breath echoed in her ears, loud as an oncoming freight train. Had she run far enough and hard enough? Annie eased up slightly at the slight hitch in her right side.

  For the first time in her life, she wasn’t really running away from anything but to something. For every step alone in the field, Tombi would match it and then, at last, overtake her. That was, if he truly loved her and wanted to claim her forever.

  Only ten feet away, a line of ripened blackberry vines edged the woods where the fattened deer grazed within. The Choctaw called this the Hunter’s Moon season, a time of celebrating the harvest and taking stock of provisions for the coming winter. An auspicious time for a wedding. From far away, friends and family shouted their encouragement for Tombi to hurry and claim his bride.

  So why hadn’t he swept her up yet? He should have caught her by now. If he loved her and wanted her forever, then why—

  The soles of her feet vibrated with the pounding of his footsteps from behind. A great whoosh of air, and Annie was upended, caught up in strong arms that braced her securely under her back and legs. She shrieked and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Tombi’s normally somber face was transformed by a triumphant smile. “I’ve got you now,” he said, and the low baritone of his voice strummed against her chest, thrilling her with its promise of complete possession.

  “Only because I let you catch me.” Best not to let him get too smug. Annie traced his lips with her fingers, marveling at the depth of their love.

  “Kiss her!” Chulah shouted.

  Amid the whistles and catcalls, Tombi pressed his mouth against hers. A passionate kiss with the promise of more to come. Annie opened her mouth, welcoming him in, deeper.

  The harsh sound of beating wings penetrated her haze of passion. Dread tightened her lungs. Had the ishkitini returned? She broke away from Tombi and gasped at the sight of a large brown bird swooping down, pale eyes piercing her soul.

  Her hawk.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, weak with profound relief at the recognition. Without her spirit animal, this day wouldn’t have been possible. “Thanks for everything.”

  The hawk slowed, flew closer. Close enough that Annie was able to reach out a hand and brush it against the reddish
-brown feathers of his breast. The hawk’s heart pulsed beneath her fingers, fast, proud, strong.

  And then it was gone. Left in an explosion of movement as abruptly as it had first appeared.

  “I was afraid the birds of the night were back,” Annie admitted. Tears blurred the edges of the tree limbs and turning leaves as she raised her head, searching for her animal spirit. “I wonder if I’ll ever see my hawk again.”

  “The ishkitini can never harm us again. Nalusa’s no longer a threat,” Tombi assured her.

  “And what about my hawk?”

  “An animal spirit is yours for life.” He planted a tender kiss on her forehead. “Just as I am yours for life.”

  He carried her in his arms the few remaining yards left to cross in the open field. More good-natured cheering erupted from the gathered witnesses, and Annie laid her head against his broad chest, perfectly at peace.

  They reached the forest, a place none of them had reason to fear anymore. Tombi slowly set her back on her feet, and her body brushed the strong, hard length of him. Desire coursed through Annie, pooling at her core. Forever wasn’t long enough to love this man and be loved by him.

  He took her hand and raised their joined arms. According to custom, this signaled to everyone that they would complete the journey of life equally yoked as husband and wife.

  Together.

  * * * * *

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