Bayou Shadow Protector Read online

  Enchantments. Chulah had no way of detecting such magic from a pat-down. She frowned, remembering the fairy’s cross crystal in the purse. Would he count a stone as a primitive weapon?

  He gave an exaggerated sigh and strode back to his bike.

  April’s mouth dropped open. She’d been so sure he’d give her a ride. “Are you leaving me?”

  He unbuckled a side bag from the bike and pulled out a spare helmet. “For crying out loud, just wear this and hop on. I don’t know how you’re going to manage in that skirt, though.”

  Not the most gracious invitation, but it would have to do. April eyed the helmet with distaste. How could anyone stand to have their head wrapped in such a tight bubble? “Do I have to wear it?”

  “Nobody rides this bike without a helmet. It’s the law. Besides, only an idiot would ride without one.”

  There went her fantasy of the wind blowing his long black hair in her face, covering her like a blanketing caress. And actually, she’d seen him riding around his yard without a helmet, but it might not be prudent to mention that fact. A female member of the Council had taken her aside and explained about the male ego thing. Which was much the same in the fairy realm, so point taken.

  She didn’t want Chulah to think she was an idiot, so she stuffed the torture device on her head.

  It was stifling. Her hot breath steamed the windshield thingy. Chulah lifted the helmet’s flap and she sucked air.

  “I’m ready,” she announced bravely. She was used to flying, the wind fanning her face and hair, free and wild. Had dreamed of a motorcycle ride as a new kind of flying, human style.

  His hands were suddenly at her throat and she gasped, taking an involuntary step back.

  “Relax. I’m just tightening the straps.”

  “Oh.” She glanced down, mesmerized by the sight of his olive-skinned fingers so close to her pale neck. Fantasies that had nothing to do with motorcycle riding filled her mind, and she shut her eyes. His hands were warm and competent, and a little shiver of pleasure rippled through her as they accidentally brushed against the vulnerable hollow of her throat.

  “There. You’re good.”

  Did she imagine his voice had a huskier edge, an undertone of desire? Her eyes flew to his face, but his back already faced her as he straddled the bike, putting on his own helmet. Chulah motioned with his hands. “Let’s go.”

  Now she would get to wrap her arms around his waist. April almost licked her lips. She walked to the bike, assessing it, before lifting her skirt and swinging a leg over the side. The skirt rode up to her butt, but she should be fine. She’d often observed human women exposing much more skin at the beach.

  The motorcycle lurched forward, and she wrapped her arms around his trim waist. Damned helmet prevented laying her face between Chulah’s broad shoulders. She itched to explore the muscles that she’d seen many a time as he worked outside in his yard. Soon, April promised herself. Very soon.

  The roaring of the engine pounded in her ears, and she acclimated to the jerk and shudder of tires hitting small potholes. April liked the ride very much. What it lacked in fairy finesse, it made up for in raw power. No wonder Chulah rode so much when he was troubled. On his Harley, he harnessed that power and focused his attention on the open road.

  Pine trees and dirt roads gave way to buildings and pavement. Unease prickled down her spine. She much preferred the woods, but had made periodic, invisible trips to downtown Bayou La Siryna in preparation for this mission.

  A mermaid statue came into view and she breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar landmark. “Turn left at the next light,” she yelled to Chulah.

  He nodded in acknowledgment, and as they turned onto Main Street, she counted the buildings to her left. One, two three, four... “Stop here,” she directed.

  Chulah expertly swerved into a parking space and shut off the engine. April sat, waiting for him to get off first.

  He lifted his helmet, and the hair that had been secured inside it fell loose. A veil of soap-scented warmth enveloped April’s neck and shoulders. She again cursed the helmet as it blocked her face from experiencing the same intimate contact. Fumbling with the straps, she took off her own helmet and shook her hair free.

  Chulah glanced over his shoulder. “Get off,” he commanded.

  April hastily complied, throwing one bare leg over the side to dismount. A loud whistle erupted across the street where three young men stared and pointed. Usually a sign of approval, if she remembered correctly.

  She looked around, but no one else was close by. Were they whistling at her or Chulah? And for what reason?

  Chulah scowled at them and they walked on by, laughing.

  “Why were those guys whistling at you?” she asked. “Were they admiring your parking skills, perhaps?”

  He arched a brow and studied her curiously. “They were whistling at you. Not me.”

  “Why me?”

  “I suspect it was the show of leg,” he remarked drily.

  But she’d shown less skin than women in bathing suits. Did they constantly whistle while at the beach? Very confusing. The Council had advised covering confusion with diversion. April ran a hand through her hair. “So,” she said brightly. “Would you like to come inside for a drink?”

  This was a human convention she was sure was appropriate. And her apartment was supposed to be well stocked in all manner of human food and drink.

  “No.” He turned his back on her and headed for his bike.

  “Wait,” she called out hurriedly. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink? It might be more comfortable to talk about your problem with me than riding your motorcycle all evening.”

  He slowly turned and confronted her, his face a stone mask. “What makes you think I have a problem? You don’t even know me.”

  Oh, but she did. Only Chulah couldn’t know that yet—if ever. That would happen only once he trusted and fell in love with her. Then she could share all her secrets. That was, if he could forgive her. A very big if.

  “True, I don’t know you well,” she admitted, scrambling for an explanation. “I just thought you seemed, um, preoccupied and worried.”

  His jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”

  She’d inadvertently injured his pride to suggest otherwise. “All right, then.” She smiled and shrugged. “Since you’ve already played my knight in shining armor, maybe you could help me out again.”

  “What do you want now?”

  His response was not promising. How was she to build a relationship with him if he wouldn’t even have a drink with her? She couldn’t fail. To return to the Fae realm in defeat would be humiliating. She’d been so cocky, so sure that Chulah would help them stop Hoklonote.

  And she’d been equally certain that he would return her warm feelings could he but meet her in human form. It was what she’d been dreaming of for so many years. That, and restoring the good name of her mother in the fairy realm.

  Foolish, foolish Tallulah had rejected his heart. What April wouldn’t have given to be in Tallulah’s shoes. Hurt and jealousy lanced April inside, a new sensation. Sure, she’d known sadness and disappointment, but not this searing stab in the gut as she’d witnessed Chulah’s proposal. Her eyes watered.

  “Are you crying?” Chulah asked, surprise written on his face. “Ah, damn...don’t do that.”

  She stiffened. “I am not crying,” she said with all the dignity she could muster. “If I were, there would be tears running down my face. Which they are not.” It didn’t count if they were contained behind eyelids; she was pretty sure on that score.

  “What the hell,” he muttered. “Let’s have a drink.”

  “Really?” She brightened. “You won’t regret it. It’ll be fun.”

  “Whatever.” He strapped his helmet on the handlebars and motioned for her to hand her own over. She did, and he tossed it in the side bag and buckled it up.

  April opened her purse, searching for the store key. In the back room was a staircase
leading to her upstairs apartment.

  The Pixie Land door swung open and a short man with a red beard beamed at them. “Hey, boss, I’ve ’bout got all the inventory unpacked and ready to open for business in the morn.”

  Steven, a fellow fairy helping in the mission, had caught her by surprise. She’d thought he’d have returned to the Fae realm by now. “Th-that’s great,” she said. “We’re going upstairs—”

  “No, we’re going to a bar,” Chulah interrupted. He walked over to Steven and extended a hand. “Chulah Rivers.”

  “Steven Andrews,” he smoothly replied, shaking hands. “Pleasure to meet ya.”

  Chulah nodded and gestured down the street. “The bar’s only a block from here. We can walk.”

  “Sure.”

  “Excuse us a moment, will ya?” Steven said to Chulah. “Just need to check with the boss on a small matter.”

  “Take your time.”

  Chulah was better mannered around strangers than he was with her, April noted.

  Steven pulled her into the shop doorway. “You might be needing this.” He pressed a roll of bills into her palm. “A little mad money in case your fellow doesn’t pay or you get stranded.”

  “Good idea.” She stuffed the money in her purse. “See you later.”

  Steven gave a broad wink. “Watched you out there. Excellent job using your feminine wiles on the man. None of us like to see a woman cry.”

  “I wasn’t using my wiles,” she sputtered, glancing back at Chulah, who was busy studying the fairy figurines in the shop window.

  He gave a maddening little chuckle. “Sure you weren’t.”

  “Oh, for the queen’s sake—I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “Take your time. Wrap him around your little finger.” The smile left his face. “Don’t be like your mother. Your loyalty is to our world. Not theirs.”

  April shut the door in his blathering face, afraid Chulah might overhear and angry at the slur to her mother. She took a deep breath to steady her emotions. “I’m ready.” She smiled. “What’s the name of this place?”

  “Bayou Brandy & Spirits. A friend of mine owns it.”

  They fell into step, April bubbling with excitement. This officially counted as a date in her book. She’d been courted a few times by her own kind, but they acted as if they were doing her a great favor since her mother was so reviled. Besides, the attentions of the notoriously fickle male of her species held no real charm. In that respect, she was just like her mother. She wanted a forever kind of man.

  A man like Chulah.

  All she had to do was win his trust, persuade him to help their mutual cause, work with him to defeat Hoklonote, restore her family’s name, convince the queen and Council to let her remain in Bayou La Siryna—plus, win his undying love. All while protecting her secret offense against him years ago.

  April wasn’t daunted a bit.

  Chapter 2

  Even in the early whisper of evening, stepping into the bar was stepping into night and mystery and a winding-down from the day’s work and worries. A dark, velvet smokiness settled on Chulah like a balm.

  All heads, mostly male, turned their way. And stayed turned. April’s unusual hair color practically glowed like quicksilver in the dim lighting.

  They slipped into a booth and Chulah signaled Karlee over. She approached, eyeing April with a jaded once-over stare.

  “Hey, sweetie. That’s some kind of dye job ya got there.” She lifted a thick strand of April’s hair and leaned in, squinting. “Blond and silver and lavender. Who’d have guessed that combo worked?” She smiled, not unkindly. “I like it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Women and their hair. Chulah stifled a sigh. “I’ll have a whiskey double. Neat.”

  Karlee whistled. “Tough day, huh?”

  He recalled the pity in Tallulah’s eyes as she said he was like a brother. “You could say that.”

  “What about you, sweetie?” Karlee asked, turning to April.

  “Water?” she said, uncertainly.

  Karlee frowned. “That’s it? Just plain ole water?”

  “What flavors do you have? I prefer floral nectar, but I like orange water, too.”

  Karlee exchanged a what’s-her-deal look with him. Chulah shrugged. “Maybe she means orange juice?”

  “Yes, that’s it,” April said in a rush, pink flushing her cheeks. “Orange juice.”

  “How about I spike it with brandy?”

  April drummed her fingers on the worn tabletop. “I guess. Sure.”

  Interesting. She wasn’t afraid of roaming the woods alone, yet ordering a drink appeared to make her nervous. He needed to know more about this unusual woman. “Where are you from?” he asked. “You’re new here or we’d have crossed paths before now.”

  “I used to live in Tillman’s Corner, about thirty miles east of here.”

  “I know where it is. I have a cousin who grew up there. You know Drew Lattimore?”

  She tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips, thinking. “No. The name isn’t familiar.”

  Chulah studied her, a niggling unease prickling his skin. Something about her seemed familiar, but surely he’d remember such an unusual woman if they’d met before. “What brings you to Bayou La Siryna?”

  “I’m opening a store. You saw it.”

  The woman wasn’t very forthcoming. Most business owners he knew had a passionate entrepreneurial spirit. She mentioned her store as if it were as exciting as eating a piece of toast. “I know. But why here, why now?”

  “Seemed like a good idea.” She squirmed in her seat. “What got you interested in repairing motorcycles?”

  “How did you know that?”

  She blinked. “You mentioned it.”

  “No.”

  Her lie didn’t sit well with him. He was a man of few words, so it was easy to remember them. And he hadn’t said a word about his bike shop.

  Karlee returned, setting down their drinks. “Here ya go. Enjoy.”

  Chulah swallowed a mouthful of stiff whiskey, watching April, trying to figure her out. The woman had a secret.

  She took a tentative sip of her drink and licked her full lips, testing it. An unexpected volt of pure sexual desire speared his gut, more potent than the alcohol. She took another, longer sip and nodded her head. “It’s good. Strange, though, like a fire going down your throat to your belly.”

  “About my repair shop—”

  “—I want another one.” She downed the entire glass and gave him a lopsided grin.

  “Whoa. Maybe you should slow down. Pace yourself.”

  But she was already waving at Karlee and pointing to her empty glass.

  Although a complete stranger, Chulah suspected this wasn’t her normal behavior. After all, she’d ordered water to start with. Unless she was a recovering alcoholic and he was responsible for tempting her beyond her control. The thought made his skin draw up tight. “Do you drink often?”

  “First time.” She set her elbow on the table and put her chin in one palm, giggling.

  It occurred to him that now would be a good time to press her a bit, discover what made her tick. “So what brings you to this town?” he asked again.

  “I’m on a mission.” She wagged a finger in front of his face. “And when I make up my mind, I can’t be stopped.”

  “What kind of mission?”

  “To save the world.”

  “From what?”

  She stopped smiling. “Evil. There’s so much evil.”

  Didn’t he know it. Had battled against it for years with his fellow shadow hunters. But, at least in this corner of the universe, the evil was now contained. They had stopped Nalusa Falaya, the supreme evil being, although a few wisps and other nefarious creatures still remained to be hunted. There would always be some around. Their Choctaw ancestors were testimony to that cold fact.

  He leaned in close to April. She smelled like flowers and something...earthy, like moss or a freshly mown lawn. Her
face was heart-shaped and her complexion a peachy pale color with dots of freckles sprinkled across her nose, and her full lips were rosy. Her eyes were an impossible purple-blue color. Contacts, perhaps? Altogether, she looked innocent and fresh.

  But looks could be deceiving. “What would you know of evil?” he asked softly.

  She matched his low tone. “It’s out there. Deep in the woods.” She raised a slender finger to her lips. “Shhh...it’s a secret.”

  His entire body flushed hot, then chilled. Who was this mysterious woman who appeared out of nowhere and was no stranger to the danger in the woods? She’d deliberately sought him out and knew entirely too much about him.

  “I can keep a secret.” He pushed the spiked OJ into her hands. “Does this evil have a name?”

  April raised the glass to her lips and took a healthy slug. “Mustn’t tell.” She burped—a tiny effervescent bubble burst that was more charming than vulgar.

  “Sure you can. You came to tell me something. Go ahead.”

  Blue eyes widened and she shook her head. “You are so smart. And handsome. And kind. Tallulah must be the biggest fool in the world.”

  He clasped her arm. “How could you possibly—”

  “Hey, man, what’s up? Who’s your new friend?”

  Leman Jones kept his gaze on April, even though his words were addressed to Chulah.

  Irritation flashed through Chulah as he released April’s arm and made the introductions. His old friend had no right to leer at her like that, even if she was the prettiest woman in the place. He shifted his gaze past Leman’s shoulder and saw four other males approaching their table.

  “You’ll have to excuse us—we were just leaving.” Chulah slapped a handful of bills on the table to cover the drinks, plus a hefty tip for Karlee.

  “But I haven’t finished my drink,” April complained.

  “You heard the lady.” Leman grinned at Chulah and turned to April. “If you want to stay and finish your drink, I’ll see you home.”