Harlequin Nocturne March 2016 Box Set (32 page)

Hysterical laughter bubbled up, and she covered her mouth with the sheet to keep anyone from overhearing.

The sound of a zipper unfastening had her hastily rolling onto her side, back to the entrance. She didn't want Tombi to see her like this. Couldn't bear to see either pity or disgust on his stoic face.

“Annie?” he called out softly. “You okay?”

She feigned sleep, keeping her breathing deep and rhythmic. The air crackled with his scent, with his strong, commanding aura. Her heart pounded in time to the drumming that was his unique music.

A heavy warmth brushed against the back of her scalp as Tombi's fingers stroked her hair. The tenderness almost undid her. She'd experienced passion before, but gentle gestures like this were foreign territory. Annie relaxed and stilled under his touch.

Tombi left in his quick, silent way, and she rolled onto her back. The smell of bacon and biscuits permeated the air. People shuffled around the campfire, speaking in low murmurs.

She longed to be a part of community like this. Mom and her string of stepfathers and stepsiblings merely tolerated her, and no one wanted to be friends with Crazy Annie.

Enough of the self-pity. Tallulah had hit a soft spot, and she'd overreacted. With any luck, no one had seen her tears. Her cheeks burned that everyone had witnessed her hasty scamper to Tombi's tent. Bet none of them had ever disgraced themselves by running away. The warrior spirit in them probably never backed away from a confrontation. Annie sighed and closed her eyes, imagining herself as one of them, eating and laughing together instead of lying in the hot, stifling tent alone.

She indulged in a familiar fantasy. She'd find a way to get rid of her supernatural hearing and go about her life doing all the ordinary things others took for granted. A job, a family, or even simple things like shopping at the mall or going to a concert. Maybe she'd even go back to school and get a college degree.

A smile tugged her lips, and she curled up, sleepy at last.

* * *

“Annie? Wake up. Time to eat.”

She bolted to a seated position and inhaled sharply at the intimacy of Tombi's nearness. Memories of their previous kiss in the tent made her skin heat and her body yearn for more of the same.

Tombi retreated, even as his breath grew raspy and his eyes darkened. “A quick bite and we need to get a move on.”

He was in full warrior mode, ready to hunt once more. Damn her traitorous body. She needed to remind herself that his focus was on defeating the shadows, and she was merely a tool in helping him win the battle.

Annie clambered out of the tent and followed him to the center of the campsite. The fire was long gone, but white-hot firewood gave off heat. Tombi piled an aluminum pie plate with several bacon slices and a couple of biscuits and handed it to her.

The smell set her mouth salivating, and she dug in. She hadn't eaten since the crackers at the hospital. Tombi silently poured her a glass of sweet tea, and she washed down the food with the sugared brew. Perfect. Food always tasted better when eaten outdoors. Either that, or she was really hungry.

Tombi sat across from her and leaned forward; his skin shone like bronze in the night. “Let's do something different tonight. Something a little safer.”

Safer sounded great. “What?” she asked, setting aside her plate.

“We're going back to the spot where I first met you. Where Bo appeared and spoke.”

She sighed.

“Thought you would like that.”

“I feel like I'm damned no matter what happens tonight. Either you'll be disappointed he doesn't appear, or he'll talk and you might not like what he has to say.” She couldn't help the bitterness that crept in her voice. “Like today.”

“I don't discount what you heard. You just caught me by surprise. I didn't consider the possibility of you picking up on dreams.” He stood, signaling the discussion was over.

She stood as well, determined to hold her ground. “I know Hanan's your friend. But you never know what's hidden in others' hearts.”
Like your sister
. But she would keep her lips locked on that possible deception. If Tombi couldn't entertain the idea of a friend as betrayer, how would he react over a sister? A twin at that. Two hearts that once beat within the same mother.

From this point on, she would filter whatever messages the music or spirits revealed. Tombi and his people might have supernatural gifts, but they were no more accepting than anyone else in the non-gifted world.

Tombi held out his hand. “Whatever happens tonight, I won't be disappointed in
you
. Always tell me the truth, and we're good.”

His words soothed Annie's hurt pride, and she placed her hand in his. The electrical charge that flowed between them gave her courage to face the long, uncertain hours ahead. Under coral beams shining from the Thunder Moon, she followed Tombi across the field and into the swampy woods. The constant chirp of cicadas and the eternal echo of the Gulf waters was a comfortable white noise in the background of her mind.

The stagnant smell of the bayou was more tolerable in the cooler nighttime temperature, and the occasional whiff of pine and brine was refreshing. Excitement unexpectedly rose within her. Whenever she was with Tombi, something exhilarating was bound to happen. Just being near him, touching him, made her feel alive. So different from the nights she had spent quietly at her grandma's cottage, grinding herbs and withdrawing from any human contact.

All this prowling about the bayou must have opened her senses in new ways, because Annie was able to recognize a few landmarks in the shadows. A familiar bend in the path here, a certain clump of saw palmetto there, a particular pattern of trees and moss...and they had returned to the place where Bo had spoken.

“This is it,” she said softly.

Tombi led her to the fallen tree where she'd once heard him playing the flute. They settled down together, thigh touching thigh. Her skin tingled, and she was unsure if it was from the proximity of Tombi or the expectation of Bo reappearing inside a wisp.

Tombi's breath whispered against her ear. “Can't you conjure him? Use some of your hoodoo stuff?”

She started to roll her eyes, then paused. Not a bad idea. She didn't practice hoodoo spells much. Grandma Tia was so gifted and took care of everything, so she seldom needed to do a root work on her own. She'd have to rifle through her grandma's old grimoires and see what she could dig up.

“I'll do some research tomorrow. There must be—”

He placed a finger on her lip, and she realized her voice had grown too loud in the dark stillness of night. She stopped talking, and yet Tombi didn't move his finger. The pressure lightened, and his hand palmed her chin. Annie leaned into the caress and kissed his fingers, at last drawing one of them into her mouth and sucking the end of it.

In a swift move, Tombi had whisked her onto his lap. She straddled him and eagerly returned his deep kisses. Hot, wet, blistering kisses that she never wanted to end. The raw, honest need between them was unlike anything she'd ever experienced, not that she had that much experience. Just a couple of boyfriends who had found her convenient as an in-between kind of girlfriend until something better than Crazy Annie came along. She'd learned not to expect anything more. How could she, when she could barely tolerate their unceasing jumble of music every day and night? But Tombi kept his energy in check, and when it did pierce his aura, it was a drumbeat that matched her own heart.

He could be trouble for her heart. Big trouble.

But for now, she didn't care. The night was magical, and his kisses shattered her normal reserve. The barriers guarding her mind and spirit slipped away, and she immersed herself in the feel of his naked skin against her own, the silk of his hair, the calluses of his hands as he stroked her face, her neck, her arms, her back.

Ethereal music penetrated Annie's passion-fogged brain. She pulled back from Tombi and strained to hear better. Oh yes, she'd heard this tune before. Somewhere in the dark shadows, Bo had returned.

“What is it?” Tombi asked, his breath sharp with anticipation. “Is it Bo? Tell him I need to talk to him.”

Don't tell Tombi I am near
, Bo warned.
If I draw his attention, other wisps or Nalusa himself will pick up on it.

Annie nodded. What did he want?

Find the music contained in the wind. Find it before Nalusa does, or all is lost.

She frowned. What was he talking about?

Tombi set her aside on the fallen tree and stood, peering into the shadows. “Bo? I'm still your friend. Talk to me.” He turned to Annie. “What did he say?”

“To find the music contained in the wind. Or all is lost. Do you have any idea what he meant?”

He shook his head and gazed at the shadows. But the music had faded. Bo had vanished.

CHAPTER 8

P
ink-and-purple light washed the sky. Annie yawned and stretched her arms. Her legs were stiff from sitting so long on the fallen tree, and her ankles were numb. Tombi was only a few yards away, pacing soundlessly, one hand to his chin as if deep in thought.

She walked to him, the crunch of twigs detonating like mini-explosions.

“We're done for the night, aren't we?” She pointed at the rising sunbeams. “And today you promised to start teaching me.”

“I haven't forgotten.”

Curiosity tripped along her nerves. “What's your secret? Why can't I hear your aura?”

“The spirit world assists us in blocking the energy we project. Let's go back to camp and have some coffee. I'll explain more.”

She buried the scowl that wanted to break. More hostility from Tallulah and company? No, thanks. Besides, she was in dire need of using modern plumbing. “We're close to my cottage. We can have coffee there.”

He nodded, and they made quick time, arriving at the cottage just as the sun rose over the horizon. To hell with dignity. Annie practically sprinted up the driveway and rushed to open the door. When she exited the bathroom, she found Tombi leaning in the doorway, lips twitching in amusement. Her bladder was too relieved to take offense.

“Go ahead and have a seat while I make coffee.”

He dropped into a chair and crossed his legs at the ankle. Annie cast surreptitious glances his way as she went about brewing coffee. She cut two slices of coconut pound cake and set them on their best china.

“Dig in,” she said, sitting across from him at the kitchen table.

He took a bite, and she waited expectantly.

Tombi didn't disappoint. “Wow.”

“Grandma Tia grates real coconut and uses, like, a pound of butter in that cake. It's always a big hit.” Annie sipped and set her cup down. “Now explain how the spirits help you.”

Tombi took a long swallow. “Those of us who show paranormal ability during our teen years are given lessons by tribal elders on how to connect with spirits and seek their guidance. It takes concentration and a certain amount of dedication. For some, it's easier than for others.”

“Bet you took right to it.”

“Tallulah and I both did. Our father was very gifted himself—it seems to be passed down.”

He made short work of the cake. Annie felt almost light-headed with hope and excitement. The life she'd always wanted was getting a step closer. She interlaced her hands and squeezed her fingers. “Keep going. I want details. Who are these spirits?”

“It's different for everyone. The spirits can be in animal form, or it can be your ancestors.”

She nodded. “In hoodoo, we petition our ancestors for help.”

“Do you have a particular ancestor who serves as a guardian spirit?”

“No.” Some of her hope wilted. “I've tried to connect with my ancestors, but I don't have the skill of my grandma. I've asked them to remove my gift, but they don't respond.”

“Could be you're asking the wrong questions.”

“Now you're sounding like Grandma Tia. Next, you'll tell me to thank my ancestors for this gift that's brought me so much pain.”

“Not necessary. But you can ask them why you've been granted your ability and how to manage it.”

The coffee soured in her stomach. “Is that the best I can do? Learn to control it? I want to be rid of it completely.”

“I don't know if that's possible. Could be that you've been granted this hearing for a special purpose, and once your mission is done, the gift will disappear.”

“You mean, help you fight Nalusa.”

“You said yourself that Tia felt we were somehow linked together. Maybe she never helped you not because she didn't want to or didn't have the necessary skill, but because she realized it would help you or others one day.”

She pondered his words. “Maybe. But you aren't getting off the hook that easy. I want my lesson, not a philosophical discussion.”

His jaw tightened. “We're getting there. First, you need to know how energy control works.”

“Okay,” she conceded. “You mentioned animal spirits. Do I have one?”

“Everybody does. We all have animal guides that come and go in our lives—depending on what we need. But a totem is an animal spirit that stays with you your entire life.”

The idea rekindled hope. “Great. What's mine?”

“You'll have to figure that out on your own.” He held up a hand to forestall her next question. “You invite them to introduce themselves, much like you pray to your ancestors for their assistance. Ask them to appear in your dreams. Pay attention to animals that you're drawn to or that show up over and over in your life.”

“I like cats,” she said hesitantly. “Maybe a cat is my totem?”

Tombi shrugged.

Some help he turned out to be. Figured he'd give her homework to do on her own. “Okay, once I discover my totem or find an ancestor willing to work with me, what comes next?”

“The way it works for me is that I connect with my great-grandfather. I quiet my mind and ask for his help. He comes to me, and I'm able to see the world through his other-realm eyes.”

“A veil between the realms. Hoodoo has similar beliefs.” Grandma Tia often spoke of it. “So that's how you and the others see at night. It explains a supernatural ability you have, but it doesn't explain how you block others from sensing you.”

“While we're in a semi-present state between shadows and earth, our guides cloak our energy—others' perceptions of us are dimmed. It allows for total focus on the hunt.”

“So I need a guide that will cloak my supernatural hearing, not so that I can be invisible to others, but to prevent my picking up their auras.” She smiled. “I'm ready to meet mine.” Problem solved.

Tombi snorted. “Not many are able to connect on their first attempt.”

“Then I'll keep trying until I meet him or her...or it, if my guide turns out to be an animal instead of an ancestor. Can we do it now?”

“Try it tonight at dusk. It is said that's the most opportune time, when the sun descends from the sky and gives way to the mysterious moon. When all around supernatural forces awaken and lengthen the shadows of men.”

Which meant a wait time of several hours. “Will you be with me when I try?”

He shook his head. “It's something you need to do alone, in your own way. I'm sure you and your grandmother already have rituals for this.”

“Hmm.” Annie tapped a finger to her lips. She'd pore over her grandma's grimoire today and find a root working.

“For novices, most guides will appear in dreams. As you lie in bed tonight, concentrate on your intent to meet your guide in dreamland.” He cocked his head to one side. “I'll sort of be with you, after all.”

“Come again?”

“I want you to spend the night with me.”

Annie's face flamed with heat.

“Not in the same bed,” he hastened to explain. A slow, sexy smile carved his face. “Unless you want to.”

Oh, she wanted. She spoke quickly, hoping he wouldn't sense her flustered nerves. “I'm sleeping here tonight, in my own bed, with only fifteen steps to a working toilet—thank you very much.”

“We wouldn't be sharing a tent in the woods. The hunt is over for this month, remember? You could stay with me at my cabin.”

“I think I'll do better here at my own home, working at my own altar.” Here, she felt closer to her grandma's presence, could perhaps draw on Tia's energy for help. “Besides, I've got a ton of stuff I need to get caught up on—groceries, bills, the usual.”

“And I'm sure you want to visit your grandmother again. How is she doing?”

“Still in a coma.”

He swore under his breath. “I'm responsible.”

She should argue he wasn't, because it was obvious he felt guilty. But Annie still harbored resentment. He had brought Nalusa to them; they would never have drawn that spirit's attention otherwise.

“Time apart will do us good,” she said, picking up their empty plates and putting them in the sink. She needed time to do some research. Visit Tia again and see if her grandma had any more messages or could help her in her quest. “Hanan said you were behind at work, anyway.”

He opened his mouth, and she kept talking, to forestall more objections. “What kind of work do you do?”

“I'm a carpenter,” he answered tersely. “There's no reason we can't both do our own thing during the day and then be together tonight.”

Annie dropped the forks she was rinsing, and they clanged in the sink.

A chair scraped, and Tombi stood behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I don't expect anything from you. We won't share the same bed.”

“Why are you so insistent I spend the night at your cabin?”

He hesitated, as if not wanting to tell her his reason.

“Well?”

“It's no longer safe for you to stay alone,” he admitted. “Nalusa knows where you live.”

Astonished, she turned around to face him, not realizing how close he stood. The nearness of their lips made her throat dry. Annie jerked back toward the sink. “I won't open the door for anyone. I'll be fine.”

“I won't take no for an answer.”

“I don't care what you do, but I want to stay here tonight, and that's the end of that.”

Tense silence settled around them in the tiny kitchen.

“I'll leave you alone, then. For now,” he said.

It sounded like a promise to return. She kept her eyes glued to the window and didn't see him leave, only heard the creak of the door as he exited. The door reopened.

“Lock up behind me,” he ordered.

Before she could reply, the door shut again, and she obediently locked up. She watched as he strode down the driveway. His golden skin gleamed, kissed by the sun, and his black hair hung past his shoulders, as dark as if it carried the energy of the night.

Day and night. Sun and moon. Hunter and hunted. Tombi was a living veil between this world and the spirit world that he entered into at will.

A dangerous protector. He'd brought her and Grandma Tia danger, but he'd also offered his protection. She sensed he was an honorable man who took his word seriously.

Could he really be the key to her escape from this personal auditory hell, or did he plan on using her? He might be honorable, but he'd set his own code as to what was right and where his duties lay.

Lesson One hadn't gone the way she'd anticipated, but at least it was a start. Annie set about rummaging through Tia's books and papers, gathering them into a pile on the kitchen table. The stack was over a foot high. With a sigh, she opened a grimoire and began leafing through the yellowed paper filled with her grandma's bold handwriting, with its fat loops and exaggerated serifs. An acrid, licorice smell of myrrh and camphor wafted through the old tome. Bits of dried leaves and herbs crumbled into the binding and spilled on to the open pages.

Annie's heart spasmed painfully beneath her ribs. She missed Tia with an ache that tightened her throat. Was her grandma faring any better today? She had to know.

* * *

For such a little bit of a woman, Annie sure had a huge stubborn streak. How could she possibly think she could defend herself against Nalusa and the shadow world? And what if she was part of that world, and that was why she was unafraid? He had to make her willing to stay with him in the evenings.

Tombi entered the restored antebellum home. It served as a visitor's center for those interested in touring the bayou for either bird hunting or walking the scenic hiking trail that featured a pier and pavilion where alligators were daily fed. Tallulah was cleaning a glass counter in the museum area that housed a collection of arrowheads, pottery and other Choctaw artifacts from bygone days. Her long hair was severely pulled back and braided, and she wore a red smock over jeans.

A familiar jolt of guilt and sadness pinched his heart. Tallulah should be managing the center instead of working as a combination cashier and cleaner. She'd been studying anthropology in college when Katrina crashed into their worlds.

She leaned against the counter and rubbed a hand along the small of her back. It had to be tough on her when she hunted at night and then had to come work the day job. A job that barely enabled her to eke out a threadbare existence. If he hadn't built her a small cabin on their family's land, she wouldn't be able to eke out any existence at all.

“Backache?” he asked.

She stiffened and returned to wiping the counters. “It doesn't matter.” Tallulah slanted him a suspicious glance. “Don't tell me you're here to scold me about that girl again.”

Scold? “I'm your brother, not your father.”

“Good. I'm glad you remember. Because sometimes I think you forget.” She set the bottle of window cleaner so hard on the glass, he expected cracks to fissure the surface.

Tombi inwardly sighed at the chip-on-her-shoulder attitude. Bo's death had made her bitter, as if it were the last straw in a string of tragedies. Something inside her had broken. As twins, they'd had a close camaraderie growing up, but in the past year they had been more like strangers. Worse than strangers, as they each knew just how to push each other's hot buttons.

A phone rang, and Tallulah stalked across the room to answer it.

He leaned his elbows on the counter and idly surveyed the ancestral artifacts while he cooled his infamous temper.
You're as fiery as the sun you're named after
, Mom used to say. Tombi liked to think he'd learned to control it, even if the flames of his anger still blistered his soul and tongue. But Tallulah tried his patience.

A wooden flute caught his eye. It was about twelve inches long and made of river cane. A snake-head design was burned into the tip with its sinewy body wrapped around the barrel. That was a new addition to this collection. It was so well preserved, somebody must have donated it. He shook his head. Too bad it wasn't for sale. He would love to add this to his own private collection. Instruments that harnessed the magical power of the wind held his respect and awe.