Harlequin Nocturne March 2016 Box Set (31 page)

“Rest well, Grandma. I'll watch over you now.” Annie pressed her palms into Tia's broad shoulders. “Saints be with us.”

The air pressed down, and a humming rang in her ears, as if she'd been submerged in a cave. What was happening? The contact with Grandma Tia had set something in motion. Every sound magnified: the grind of tires on the distant highway, a clock ticking. Down the hall, a voice called for a nurse. The sounds were distinct yet muted and slowed down. Annie sank into the chair by the side of the bed and squeezed Tia's hand.

“Are you there, Grandma? It's me, Annie.”

Tia's chilled, lifeless hand suddenly warmed, then burned into Annie's palm and fingers. Instinctively, Annie started to pull back but stopped, afraid she'd lose this connection. Possibly the last she'd ever have with her grandma. She closed her eyes and concentrated.
I'm here. Don't be mad. I had to see you.

A pinprick of light danced behind Annie's closed eyelids. With each flicker, a tiny note pinged...sounding like the metal triangles of elementary school. No, wait, that wasn't right. The notes were more like the Native American flute Tombi had played in the woods.

She didn't want to think about him. Yet, she couldn't escape the feeling that he was calling her somehow, that he needed her. Why was Grandma Tia always pushing him toward her, even while unconscious? An image of a flute pressed into her thoughts. It was more decorated than the one Tombi had played, as if it were used in ceremonies and rituals.

She'd never seen it before. But Tia had.

“What are you trying to tell me?” Annie asked.

The image, and the music, faded to a black void. Tia's hand cooled to a normal temperature.

The moment had passed.

Annie's eyes flew open, but Tia's calm mask of sleep was undisturbed. Profound relief washed over her body, and with it came a great weariness. She sank into the chair and slept.

* * *

Violets...the scent tickled her nose. Miss Verbena's lined face came into view.

“Annie, are you okay, dear?”

She jerked to an upright position and looked out the window. How long had she been asleep? The late-afternoon sun washed the air with bright power.

My name means ray of light in Choctaw
, Tombi had told her.
We once revered the sun's power
. At the time, she'd laughed over his not-so-sunny personality, but his name fit. He was powerful and strong and important to his people, a central figure in a fight against shadow beings who wanted to block the light.

Her anger melted like butter in the heat. If Tombi hadn't ever returned to find her, he'd had a good reason. A chill settled in the pit of her stomach. What if he'd been injured last night?

She had to find him at once.

“You're so pale,” Miss Verbena said. “I'll fetch you a glass of water. Have you eaten today?”

Her mouth tingled at the mention of food. “No. I guess I forgot.”

“Lord a-mercy, I wish I'd forget to eat a meal.” Miss Verbena patted her ample belly and dug a pack of peanut-butter crackers out of her straw bag. “This should tide you over until dinner.”

Annie scarfed them down greedily as she gathered her pocketbook and car keys. “I have to run,” she apologized. She hugged her grandma's dear friend. “Thank you for staying with Grandma Tia. I'll be back as soon as I can.”

“'Course you will. You've always been a good girl, unlike your...” She clamped her mouth shut in a tight line.

“Unlike my mom,” Annie said. “Have you called her? I know I should but...”

Miss Verbena shook her head. “That's your business. Doubt she'd come, though. Always swore she never wanted to come back here again after they had that big blowout years ago.” The scowl on her face softened. “Don't you worry, honey. I have a feeling ole Tia's gonna pull through this just fine. You go on and do what you got to do.”

She carefully hugged the old woman, throat constricted with tears. “Thanks for understanding.”

Annie hurried out, knowing that she had to find Tombi.

CHAPTER 7

T
ombi kicked at the campfire ashes, placed his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. He should be sleeping like the others in preparation for the last night of the hunt. Instead, his mind kept asking the same question over and over.
Where is Annie?
He'd checked her cottage, of course, but she wasn't home. Neither was her car, which meant she could be anywhere. He'd called and left messages on her cell phone, but she couldn't, or wouldn't, answer.

The air's vibration shifted, and the soles of his bare feet prickled from a subtle tremor. Someone was approaching. Tombi raised his head, and his eyes went immediately across the clearing to where a woman entered from a wooded path.

Annie.

Others might have mistaken her for a girl, but he knew better, had explored the rounded curves of her breasts and the slight swell of her hips. He rose slowly to his feet, his mind churning with passion, anger and relief. Mostly relief.

Graceful as a woodland sprite, she walked across the field, her brown wavy hair tossing in the breeze. She seemed to draw energy to her, as if the natural world became more animated in her presence. A dark angel, a whimsical witch who heard music where others experienced only silence.

Tombi went quickly toward her, away from the tents of sleeping hunters. A few were already stirring, preparing for various camp duties before the night's hunt.

“Where have you—” he started.

“You're okay. I thought maybe—”

They both stopped. Tombi reached for her, and she willingly walked into his arms. All the worry and anxiety of the past few hours vanished under the solid feel of her body pressed against his. He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the scent of flowers and musk. But he was conscious that the others would soon be stirring from their tents. Now wasn't the time to kiss again—they would be certain she'd bewitched him. He stepped back and scanned her body, checking for injuries.

“The wisp didn't hurt you?”

Annie blinked. “How did you know I was attacked?”

“We found the stones you threw and ashes from a released spirit.” He had to know, dared to hope. “Was it Bo?”

“No, sorry. I had the impression the soul was a girl. And she never told me her name.”

Tombi shook off the disappointment. It had been a long-shot chance at best. “I tried to find you. Even went to your grandma's cottage, but your car was gone. I've been worried.”

She shrank into herself. “I went to the hospital to see my grandma,” she said shortly.

Did she still blame him for her grandmother's illness? Hell, it wouldn't be any worse than the guilt that nagged at him over what had happened. “How is she?”

“She's still in a coma. The doctors said she had a stroke but they never mentioned poison, which I find strange.”

“There never is. Nalusa's venom won't register on medical tests. People he's bitten were diagnosed with other conditions like heart attacks or allergic reactions.”

“Has anyone been bitten and lived?”

Her eyes were so sad, so anxious, he couldn't tell her the truth. “Maybe,” he hedged. “I can't be aware of every instance he's attacked or bitten.”

“What happened out there in the woods? You never came back to me.”

“I was drawn away. I'll explain later. But first, I need your help. Quick.” He looked back over his shoulder at the campsite. “While everyone is still asleep.”

She nodded. “That's why I'm here. I did promise.”

Annie brushed past him and strode purposefully toward the tents. He followed a few yards after, hands clasped behind his back. None of his people would betray him; he was almost 100 percent certain of their loyalty.

Almost.

If Annie heard nothing incriminating, he'd report her finding to the others, and they could continue on as before, without the worm of mistrust wiggling in some dark recess of their minds.

She walked carefully among the tents and paused at one. A large moan erupted from inside, and she blushed. Even he recognized the music of passion. Annie scurried away, and he laughed.

She circled around a tent on the outside of the ring, her head cocked to the side. He raised an eyebrow at her, but she shook her head and moved on, tapping her lips and chin as she concentrated.

Only one more round of tents, and she would be finished. He silently willed her to hurry and be done with it. Before the last tent, the one closest to his own, she stopped. Her brows creased as she listened.

Tombi couldn't move, couldn't breathe.
No.
Not this tent.
Move on
, he wanted to scream.

But she didn't. She faced him and extended her right arm at the tent, pointing her finger. Quickly, he walked to her side and guided Annie away by an elbow.

“There's your man,” she said.

“Not possible. You're mistaken.”

Her eyes widened. “What's wrong with you? You've begged me for two days, and now you act like
this
? Sounds like you're making excuses for somebody.” Her voice rose. “Who are you protecting?”

“No one,” he denied, his own voice rising in anger. “Forget about it.”

Annie put her hands on her hip. “Bo spoke to me. He said to warn you about a betrayer. Well, I've done my duty. If you don't want to listen to me, that's your problem.”

Bo. Even now, hearing the name of his best friend pinched his heart.

Annie turned her back on him and stalked away from the center of the campsite. Already, hunters were stepping out of their tents to see the commotion. He hated public displays. He was a tracker, damn it. Controlled, in charge and rational.

Tombi caught up to her. “Where are you going?” he whispered harshly, not wanting everyone to hear their conversation.

“Home.”

He grabbed her hand. “Wait. I want—”

She jerked out of his grasp and kept walking. “I don't care what you want anymore.”

Annie couldn't leave. Not like this. He could still use her help. And she was his last living link to Bo. “I'm your only hope of learning to control your gift,” he reminded her.

She stopped, and Tombi scrambled in front of her.

“When do the lessons start?” she asked through tight lips.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“What kind of lessons are you giving her?” Hanan asked, arms crossed. He stood in front of his tent.

The
tent that Annie had fingered.

Annie looked from Tombi to Hanan, eyebrows raised.

“He's my right-hand man, my closest friend since Bo died,” Tombi explained in a low voice. “I trust him.”

“Believe what you want.” Her posture was stiff and her words clipped.

He'd hurt her feelings. Tombi tried to consider their argument from her perspective. She found his rejection of her findings as a rejection of
her
. Which wasn't the same thing at all.

Hanan ambled over and nodded pleasantly at Annie before speaking to Tombi. “Is it something I can help you with? I know you're pressed for time finishing the Anderson project.”

“Maybe. I'll let you know.” It was true he was behind on his carpentry jobs, but Tombi doubted Annie would want Hanan as a teacher. Not now.

“Sure, if you can help teach me to guard my energy like the rest of the hunters.” Annie smiled sweetly and held out her hand.

All the frosty stiffness had melted. What was her game?

Hanan accepted the outstretched hand, covering Annie's small hand with both of his own.

Tombi frowned at the sight. The touch was held a moment longer than necessary. Hanan broke contact first.

“Chulah and I need to talk with you when you get a minute.”

“Be with y'all shortly.”

Hanan sauntered off, joining the other men in preparing a meal.

“You would really take lessons from Hanan?” Tombi asked.

“Someone needs to keep an eye on him.” The lemon-tart tone returned. “What time should I come back tomorrow for a lesson?”

“Tomorrow?” he sputtered. “I thought you would stay the night.”

“And go on another hunt? No, thank you.”

Incredulity and frustration battled in his gut. He was used to directing everyone's moves. But Annie? She had her own life, separate from his people, and she had her own secret agendas.

* * *

Annie bit her lip to keep from smiling at Tombi's discomfort. He liked to wield power and expected others to fall in line with his wishes. But she was afraid if she allowed him to exert that same power over her, he'd stretch out the lessons and string her along until he got what he needed.

He took a deep breath. “Please, stay.”

“Why do you want me to?” she asked, confused at his insistence. “I mean, it's not like you listen when I tell you what I hear.”

“I do listen,” he argued. “It's just, in this case, you're wrong. You heard thoughts about a dream he was having. Hanan isn't conspiring with Nalusa.”

Self-doubt, her constant companion, crept in. It was possible he was right. Although, usually when she picked up dream music, it had an otherworldly, faint kind of vibe. Not the distinct, ominous tone that had emanated from Hanan's tent. The only way to know for sure if Hanan was a traitor was to spend more time with him, to catch him unawares.

No one could keep their energy contained all day, every day. Even Tombi couldn't. At unguarded moments, or at times of high emotion like when he kissed her, she heard the pounding of his heart like a snare drum vibrating in her gut. Still, other times, when he was wrapped up in his thoughts, she'd hear the notes of the Native American flute he was so adept at playing.

“Look, Tombi, I didn't get much rest last night. Let me sleep in my own bed tonight, and I'll stay for the hunt tomorrow night.”

He shook his head. “That's no good. The week of the full moon ends tonight.”

“Meaning what?”

“We all return to our real lives. The hunt won't resume again until the next full moon.”

“You don't need me for hunting. You've done it for years on your own.” She studied him closely. “I think what you really want is to see if I can speak with Bo again.”

Tombi looked over her head, across the field to the woods. His face was hard and set. “He's out there, trapped. I'll do anything to release his spirit. I owe him at least that much.”

Annie felt his pain like a lump in her own chest. “And he would do the same for you if the situation were reversed,” she said gently.

“Tombi.” Hanan waved him over to his group of four hunters.

“I have to go.” He faced her at last. “I can't make you stay. As you've said, this isn't your fight.”

How could she rest tonight leaving Tombi with such sadness? And Grandma Tia had fought hard to communicate with her at the hospital—to tell her that Tombi needed her. “Since you put it that way...I'll hang around.”

His shoulders relaxed, as if a weight had rolled off. “Thank you. I guarantee to not leave your side this time.”

“Go ahead and see your friends,” she said.

“My tent is yours. Go take a nap until night falls.”

“More orders?”

A smile broke across the grave landscape of his face. “Just a suggestion. Up to you.”

Annie watched as he left her side, her heart lightened that she'd made the right decision in staying. And he was right. A nap would help keep her strengthened for the night ahead. She turned to walk to his tent and then froze.

Tallulah slipped out of Hanan's tent flap, as silent and fluid as a cat with her long, thin body. She stood and ran a hand through her tangled, mussed hair.

Her face was relaxed and peaceful in a way Annie had never seen. It transformed her stark, aggressive features into something lovely. Tallulah's gaze swept the area, then zeroed in on Annie. Her dark eyes tightened to suspicious slits.

She wasn't up for this. Not after seeing her grandma in a coma, not after the fight with Tombi. And not in a sleep-deprived fog. Annie went to Tombi's tent.

“Hey. Where are you going?”

Annie ignored Tallulah's strident demand. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared; their eyes burned into her skin. She walked quickly, but lifted her chin and didn't glance right or left. Straight ahead lay safety. A few more feet and she could enter Tombi's tent and zip out the rest of the world a few hours.

Hot breath brushed the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. “Nobody wants you here. You don't belong.”

Annie's skin prickled at the hostility, and her lips trembled. Stupid to let Tallulah's anger cut her to the quick. She pressed her mouth into a thin line. She wouldn't cry in front of everyone watching. Three more steps and she would be rid of the woman. Quickly, she reached the tent flap and knelt to enter.

Tallulah dropped to her knees alongside her. “What does my brother see in you?” she continued in that same dark whisper. “You're a coward. A lying coward.”

Annie's hands fumbled at the zipper, and she tugged at it, eyes burning with tears.

I will not cry in front of them
. Yes, it was true. She'd rather curl up in a little ball all alone than face Tombi's pit viper of a twin. Metal grated on metal, and nirvana opened. Annie ducked inside and battened down the hatch, allowing the salty tears to spill from her eyes.

Low-pitched laughter rang out inches away from the thin canvas lining. “Coward,” Tallulah seethed again.

“Tallulah!” Tombi's commanding voice cut through the air.

How much had he heard? Despite the smothering heat, Annie curled up in the corner and pulled a sheet over herself, a turtle retreating into its shell. Shame smothered her as thick as the Alabama humidity.
You don't belong
. The words ricocheted in her brain, fast and deadly. She never belonged, and she never would. Even with a band of supernatural shadow hunters, she was branded as a misfit.