Bayou Shadow Protector Read online

  A strategy that didn’t often work, but had proved helpful a few times in the past. Like grazing deer, sometimes spirits could be lulled into a false sense of security, never suspecting that a hunter lay in wait.

  Patient, silent, at one with the dark stillness. They sat together, absorbing the night and its energy. No hint of anything. An hour passed. Two.

  Tombi stood and stretched. “I need to get home and sleep. Long day tomorrow at work.”

  Chulah followed suit. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ll mark that tree next time.”

  “No problem.”

  They walked the pine-cushioned path in silence, heading back to Chulah’s cabin. He pondered the mysterious April, resolving to see her tomorrow.

  If she even remained in the bayou.

  * * *

  Foolish humans.

  It hurt April’s feelings that Chulah had immediately called his friend to hunt her down. Not that they knew it was her, but still...it rankled.

  She followed them from a safe distance as they left the woods. April had been extra careful and alert, making sure to create an illusion so they wouldn’t find the fairy portal tree.

  So Chulah and his friends wanted to check her out? She’d keep Steven close by her side to deflect any hard questions so that she wasn’t forced to say anything until Chulah was in love with her. The original plan was that once he was, she’d tell him she was a Fae ambassador on a mission to get the shadow hunters’ help to fight Hoklonote and save the Fae realm.

  And hope he’d buy it without asking too many questions. Although that appeared highly unlikely now.

  She heard the Ishkitini before they did. And where the birds of the night cried, will-o’-the-wisps were sure to follow. April picked up a couple of sticks and threw them ahead on their path, alerting the hunters to danger.

  “What was that?” Chulah stopped and searched the woods.

  A slow smile played on Tombi’s mouth. “Kowi anuskasha. The forest dwellers.”

  The Choctaw word for her kind wasn’t entirely accurate. The forest was their home, but they could stray from its borders. At least that word was better than—

  “Bohpoli,” Chulah agreed. “One just threw sticks at us.”

  As if the fairies could be reduced to a verb...thrower. They were more than that, so much more. In the old days, the Choctaw people regarded them as harmless, mischievous beings who threw sticks and stones to scare humans. These days, no one believed in fairies, which suited their need for secrecy just fine.

  “April, perhaps?” Tombi asked.

  “We don’t know that.” Chulah appeared unamused. “What do you want?” he demanded, staring into the void.

  So frustrating. Could they not hear the birds? She must warn them.

  “Wait. I hear something.” Chulah raised a finger to his lips and he and Tombi stilled, blending into the shadows. “Ishkitini,” he whispered.

  Silently, they each withdrew their backpacks and unpacked their slingshots.

  About time. The warriors could handle the birds, but the wisps... April flew above the treetops, above the predatory owls with their intent nocturnal eyes and ruffled feathers.

  Seven glowing orbs skittered erratically behind the birds. One moment they were a few inches above ground; the next moment they shone in the treetops, only to flit immediately into a tangle of dying kudzu and brambles. Unpredictability, with no pattern in their movements, was part of what made them potentially deadly. That, and their ability to gang up on their human victims. Some of the wisps had more than one pulsing heart at their center, meaning they had entrapped more than one spirit victim.

  There were fewer wisps since Nalusa Falaya had been contained in the last battle, but the surviving wisps were more cunning. More powerful. More deadly.

  And they wanted Chulah and Tombi. Desperately.

  April’s heart pinched imagining Chulah reduced to a green spirit trapped forever in some wisp’s miasmic glow. She couldn’t let that happen.

  But mostly the wisps wanted the shadow hunters’ leader, Tombi. None of them realized Chulah’s silent determination and superior skill were the bigger threat. Nobody but her. It came from years of watching him. Invisible, unapproachable, unknown.

  Forbidden.

  Yet she still wanted him. In all his human splendor. His cinnamon-colored skin stretched over taut muscles. His long black hair that lifted in the bayou breeze like a silken armor. His brown eyes that were like a deep well reflecting all that was noble and worthy and vulnerable. His chiseled jaw and strong nose. His large, calloused hands that threw rocks with deadly precision but were so gentle and tender when he tended his vegetable garden or stroked an animal.

  Seven against two, not counting the distracting Ishkitini. Not a fair fight. She had to save Chulah. How unfair if he should die now, so soon after she had finally had the opportunity to kiss him as a human girl. To lose him when he still thought she might be the enemy. It broke her heart merely imagining it.

  She had to fight.

  April flew down, aiming at the back of a wisp lagging a bit behind the others.

  The decaying scent of Hoklonote teased her senses. He was behind all this, probably watching this attack from a safe distance. Which made it even more dangerous should he decide to enter the fray once the hunters had been weakened or trapped.

  She got close enough to the lone wisp that she could identify the trapped victim inside. The green spirit rippled in agony. His name was Nitushi, Young Bear. At age nine, his spirit was captured, well over a hundred years ago. So young. Forced to suffer an existence of suffocating misery more than ten times that of his human life span.

  Help me to help you, Nitushi. She pushed the words at him through the wisp’s thin smoke form. Her fairy glow was tiny compared to the wisp’s. So far, it hadn’t noticed her.

  In the green flame, she viewed Nitushi’s capture as a human child. He’d disobeyed his parents. Had sneaked deep into the woods at dusk, unafraid and innocent. Convinced that the elders’ tales of evil spirits and bogeymen were stories meant to scare children into obedience.

  Until Nalusa Falaya stepped onto the path. A man Nitushi had never seen in his small village. A man...yet not a man. The closer Nalusa drew, the more Nitushi grew uneasy. He had arms and legs and a face like other men, but he was too tall. His ears were too pointed, his eyes were too small, his skin a little darker than others in his Nation.

  The long black being—Nalusa Falaya? He’d been warned about the dark shadow spirit, like all Choctaw children. Nitushi threw down his small bow and arrow and ran.

  But his legs were not full-grown with the length and span of a grown-up’s limbs. No way to win this race.

  Nitushi darted into the underbrush. His small size could be an advantage. He’d use it to hide. Terrified, he glanced back but the strange man had disappeared. Nitushi panted, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest. He’d never disobey his parents again. He’d never come alone into the woods at night again, he’d never...

  A rustle broke through the din of his drumming heartbeat. Louder, closer, fast as an arrow. He looked down and gasped. The hugest snake he’d ever seen. It slithered S-shaped, rattling and deadly.

  Nitushi was mesmerized, paralyzed by the small black eyes in its triangular face. Intelligent eyes. The eyes of Nalusa. He closed his eyes before the fangs pierced his flesh and poison invaded his veins like a thousand needles pricking his veins. A wisp hovered nearby, ready to claim Nitushi’s spirit.

  April witnessed it all in an instant.

  I will free you, Nitushi. All will be well. She was born for this. For wielding her Fae enchantment to soothe a distressed human soul—or a spirit if need be.

  April concentrated, inhaling deeply. She exhaled, releasing a mixture of heat and coolness to penetrate the wisp’s orb, a ray of focus that penetrated through the vaporous wisp and to Nitushi.

  Fly through the light. Hurry.

  He did. The green heart pulsing of his spirit elongated to a
thin shaft and he squeezed through the narrow beam of light April provided.

  Swoop.

  April released her breath. The green light in front of her transformed to a pure white that gleamed like a miniature star in the Alabama bayou. This time, the emanating images were of joy. Nitushi’s slender, boyish face alight with a grin. What a handsome lad he had once been.

  Find your people, she urged softly. Your parents have been waiting for you in the After Life for a long, long time.

  He nodded solemnly, and his eyes drifted upward, somewhere private and sacred to him. A place she could not see or enter.

  Svshki. My mother. Ak. My father, he breathed.

  The wisp shook, darkened. Aware its strength had escaped.

  April flew backward, out of reach for its last moment of power. The wisp screeched, a rage-filled rushing of air that sounded like a punctured balloon collapsing. The bayou grew silent again. The other wisps continued on, uncaring that a fellow creature had died. That was the way of their world. A waiting and a battle. A taking or a releasing. Victory or defeat. And always, some form of death in the brew.

  Hoklonote’s scent grew stronger, but not near enough to cause a panic. The old spirit was far too cunning to confront one fairy. And why should he when his goal was to suppress their entire realm? Besides, Hoklonote was a coward. Anyway, she was far too insignificant to matter.

  But Chulah mattered.

  April flew to the treetops, determined to help eliminate more of the wisps intent on Chulah’s destruction. Nitushi’s spirit flashed before her, climbing upward.

  Yakoke. Thank you, he whispered. The white ball of light became a pinprick in the heavens.

  At least she had helped one soul this evening.

  But there was no time for quiet thanksgiving. Not with Chulah’s life in danger. Had the birds arrived yet?

  April streaked forward. They had probably already dealt with the Ishkitini. Which left six wisps versus two humans. Those odds left her burning with fear. If she was quick enough, maybe she could take out one more before they attacked, even up the humans’ chances.

  The wisps were almost upon Chulah and Tombi. April flew to the nearest, one with two trapped spirits. Inhale, exhale.

  Whoosh.

  Two white lights funneled out of the wisp. A brief glimpse of two adolescent girls, shining with hope as they ascended to their Land of the Spirits. Quickly, April rushed back, avoiding the gust of evil energy as the wisp burst and collapsed in on itself.

  Five remained.

  “Look out,” Chulah warned his friend. “Five incoming.”

  Tombi moved until the men stood back to back. “I’ve got you covered.”

  With speed and precision, they dug out rocks and loaded their weapons.

  “How did they find us?” Chulah grumbled. “Haven’t seen this many at one time in months.”

  “Me either. The Ishkitini had mostly disappeared, too, after Nalusa’s defeat. Until tonight.”

  Chulah frowned. “If that fairy thing guided them to us...”

  The accusation cut deep, but she ignored the pain, concentrating on what must be done. April darted closer and killed one more wisp before quickly flying off. To stay longer meant being unwittingly felled by the shadow hunters as they aimed at the wisps.

  Chulah stared directly at her. But was blind. “I smell violets.”

  She darted away. He needed to concentrate on the wisp attack, not her.

  * * *

  “This is no good. I’ve got a better plan,” Tombi said. He motioned with his hand. “We have time to flush them out. This way.”

  Chulah ran, following him down the game trail, noiseless and unerring in the feeble sliver of moonlight. Only their supernatural shadow-hunting eyesight made it possible to see in such darkness. They had managed to lose the wisps, but they were still clearly in danger.

  Tombi looked back over his shoulder.

  “Yeah, I’ve been hearing the same rustling,” Chulah whispered.

  Tombi picked up the pace and Chulah guessed at his strategy. The trail ended at a large clearing. Dangerous to cross at night while being hunted.

  “The noise has stopped,” Chulah said in a low, quiet voice.

  Tombi held a finger to his lips and Chulah stood silent, straining to pick up any unusual sound.

  It came.

  A familiar whooshing of air broke the normal night sounds. The sound of a large flock of Ishkitini flying low. Yet another round of attack. They could outrun and hide from the wisps when outnumbered, but the damn birds could always spot them. And where the birds of the night flew, the wisps were sure to follow. Hoklonote sent them to wear down a hunter mentally and physically so that the wisps could easily finish the job when they arrived.

  Chulah called on past experience to determine if they had time to cross the field before the birds, huge horned owls, spotted them. If they miscalculated, they were dead meat to the birds of prey. But if they hurried...

  Tombi pointed to a stand of cypresses across the field. “Quick to the trees,” he called.

  Chulah sprinted side by side with his friend, ever conscious of the approaching birds with their talons of death. Sharp claws that ripped human flesh and feasted on it when possible.

  Fifty yards to safety.

  Another sound emerged from the generalized whooshing, the flapping of wings and an occasional hoot as the Ishkitini homed in.

  Halfway there. The bird noises were so raucous and loud that Chulah’s skin stretched taut, expecting the sting of talon at any moment. If they could just reach the tree grove it would help shield them against the attack.

  They made it, quickly scrambling behind the gnarled tree trunks. Position reversed and upper hand gained. Now it was the wisps that had to cross open field. Through the tree branches, Chulah counted at least four or five wisp hearts flashing bright blue green. A signal they were preparing to attack.

  Expertly, Chulah retrieved his slingshot, a knife and several rocks from his backpack. He gripped the slingshot in his left hand and the knife in his right. In a move born from years of fighting experience, Chulah positioned the knife so that its blade flared out from the underside of his hand, perfect for slashing. This way he could shoot and keep his knife at the ready to kill any predator that came within striking distance.

  The droning of owls filled the air and vibrated in his gut. They were upon them.

  Two owls flew within a yard of Chulah, their bloody red eyes glowing with fierce intensity. Chulah raised his hand and slashed down. Once, twice. The smell of blood and nasty meat rent the air. Another owl sank its claws into Chulah’s left biceps. Chulah slammed the owl against a tree trunk and knocked it unconscious. He circled to the front of the tree, loaded his slingshot and fired at a wisp that had closed within thirty yards.

  A high-pitched squeal assaulted his ears as the wisp disintegrated into a puff of smoke that emitted an acrid smell. The teal heart trapped within the wisp transformed to a white spark that spiraled upward to the stars.

  But there was no time to admire the lovely sight.

  A quick glance to his left and his breath caught. Tombi fired at a wisp, killing it, but he paid a price. He was surrounded by the Ishkitini. The largest owl sank its beak into Tombi’s neck.

  Damnation.

  Chulah rushed over. Tombi slashed the owl that had bit him, but it was too late. Blood streamed from his neck wound and he fell to the ground. At least four owls immediately attacked his prone figure, sinking their talons into his legs and shoulders.

  “Help!” Tombi screamed. “You son of a bitch owls. You—”

  “I’m here,” Chulah panted, stabbing his friend’s attackers and kicking at others trying to jump or fly at them.

  “Look out!” Tombi warned, rolling to his right. “Incoming.”

  Blinding strobes of flashing light pulsated in the darkness and Chulah squinted. A cold, foul odor emanated from the nearby wisp and it filled Chulah with an immobilizing dread. No wisp had ever come
so close to him. Surprise left him vulnerable. There was no time to mentally shield his mind from the despair the wisps exuded. They fed on human misery. It made them stronger, more lethal.

  A rock whizzed by his ear.

  “Bingo,” Tombi grunted. “I got it.”

  The flashing light extinguished and the trapped soul escaped, lighting up as instantaneously as a struck match and ascending upward. Joy and peace filled Chulah’s heart. The sensation was a hundred times stronger than the wisp’s aura of despair.

  Incredibly, the Ishkitini arose en masse and left.

  Chulah scrambled to his feet and circled Tombi’s body, searching for more wisps. “I don’t get it,” he mumbled, hands on his hips. “I saw at least three other wisps preparing to attack us. Where did they go?”

  “We’d be goners if they’d stuck around,” Tombi said, his voice so faint that Chulah was instantly drawn to a new dilemma.

  He dropped to a knee beside his friend. They’d helped each other many times throughout the years, but this was the closest they had come to almost dying. He’d never forget that Tombi had saved his life with the last-minute rock hit.

  Tombi, and some stroke of fortune that scared off the Ishkitini and will-o’-the-wisps. Where had that help come from? A mystery to ponder later.

  “We need to get you medical help. Quick.” Chulah put one arm under Tombi’s knees and the other beneath his back. With a grunt, he lifted Tombi. Somehow, he’d find the strength to carry him to the cabin.

  “Put me down,” Tombi protested. “I can walk.”

  Chulah eased him down to his feet and Tombi passed out. Perspiration broke out all over Chulah’s body. He was alone in the woods with a man who might be dying.

  Just like his father.

  And he’d been unable to save him either.

  * * *

  April shivered as an eerie silence split the night, broken only by the faraway screeches of retreating owls. She couldn’t stop the flooding waves of panic, even though the danger had passed. The image of Chulah, frozen and vulnerable as the wisp hovered, homing in to claim his soul, would haunt her the rest of her life. Without thinking, she’d attacked another wisp closing in on Chulah from behind, a second before he would have been lost to her forever. The other two wisps had scampered into the safety of the woods, bewildered at the invisible attacks.