Bayou Shadow Protector Page 8

  His temples throbbed and he resisted the urge to rub the pain away. “I gave you money to pay the bills last month. What happened?”

  “You didn’t give me enough, obviously.”

  His teeth ground together. At this rate, by the time he was an old man, the enamel would wear down to nothing. Joanna would still be hounding him for more, more, more, sucking his soul dry.

  As always, Chulah swallowed his anger. Thick, unspoken recriminations burned the back of his throat and made his stomach churn—get a job, live within your means, leave me alone, not my problem.

  Except, it was. His family, his problem. He had promised Dad to take care of them. A deathbed promise that he vowed to keep. Of course, at age fifteen, he didn’t fully realize the enormity of that commitment. Still, Joanna had kept a roof over his head and provided food until he left at age eighteen and struck out on his own.

  Not to mention, his dad’s death was his fault. He sighed. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t I always?”

  The bigger question was what to do with April. First, he would meet her tonight to see what she wanted. After that, he knew where to seek a final answer.

  Chapter 6

  The moon was a mere crescent sliver, but bright enough. Chulah trudged down the woodland path, alert for a sign of April. How typical of her that she provided no details on an exact time or place. Or even if she would appear as human or fairy.

  For all he knew, this was a wild-goose chase.

  Or a trap. Just in case, Chulah clutched a rock and slingshot in his right hand.

  Tombi would chastise him as a fool for agreeing to meet her alone in the bayou after her lies.

  Too bad.

  In spite of everything, April intrigued him. He sensed a goodness in her. Normally, he trusted his instincts. But he had to remember he was dealing with a magical creature who most likely had the ability to manipulate his mind and heart.

  A whiff of violets teased his nose, and Chulah stilled. She was near.

  Off to the east, an orange glow—too small to be the sun—flashed as beautiful as a Himalayan salt lamp. It drifted closer. Closer.

  He dared not breathe for fear of scaring it away. As before, the details grew crisp as the light drew near, coalescing into a distinguishable figure with a halo of hair that rippled in the breeze. A female with silver-and-purple hair and skin as pale as snow. On her back, a pair of wings fluttered like a mammoth butterfly.

  His breath caught and the rock and slingshot fell from numbed fingers, thudding harmlessly to the pine-cushioned ground. Chulah was mesmerized at the vision.

  It was April, and yet it wasn’t April.

  Her form wasn’t solid; it shimmered and sparkled, emitting enough light to illuminate most of the forest. She wore a white dress that rippled like the break of a wave over the sea. And those wings... Yet it was undeniably her. The hair, the eyes, the body.

  She stared straight at him. Chulah glanced down, saw that her light had stripped away the shadows he’d gathered around his body like a cloak to hide from the spirits. He stepped toward April. Never show fear. “We meet again.”

  The glow died instantly—as if it were a candle extinguished by a blast of wind. Chulah blinked. April took a tentative step his way, eyes wide and frightened.

  He’d known it the first second he’d seen her waving at him by the side of the road. The woman was capital-T trouble. “So it’s true. You really aren’t human,” he said roughly.

  She flinched, but her gaze didn’t waver from his face. “I told you I was sent to warn you. You and your hunters are in grave danger.”

  He folded his arms. “From what? A...pack of fairies?” Now he’d said the F word, curiosity overcame him. “How many of you are there?”

  “Not important.” Her eyes shifted to the left and right, as if she were afraid of being discovered.

  He shouldn’t be surprised; he’d seen all manner of strange beings out here in the woods. But amazement clouded his mind. “I want to know,” he insisted.

  “Of course there’s lots more. I don’t exist in a vacuum.” Again, she glanced around, twirling a lock of purple hair. “But that’s our secret, okay?”

  “No. I can’t promise that. The other shadow hunters need to know. We share everything. There are no secrets among us.”

  April hurried to him and placed a hand on his chest.

  The same electric current that flowed between them returned with such force that his knees buckled an inch. Was this a seduction meant to ensnare him? Chulah straightened. He grabbed her wrist and thrust it aside. “What kind of magic is this?” he asked through a clenched jaw.

  She ignored the question. “Listen to me. Maybe seeing me like this will drive the point home. You’re in danger. Hoklonote grows stronger and is plotting against you and your kind.”

  He raised an eyebrow, deliberately raking his eyes over April, from her toes to the top of her head. How could he trust this creature so different from his own flesh-and-blood roots?

  “I’ll prove it to you.” April raised her right arm.

  From the north, a faint odor of decay and mold carried on the wind. His blood stirred at the familiar scent, one he hadn’t smelled since the great battle when Nalusa Falaya had been defeated and his spirit contained within the Choctaw Nation’s sacred tree. The lesser shadow spirit, Hoklonote, had been there, assisting the greater spirit power, Nalusa. But when he realized the end was near, Hoklonote had scurried away from the scene and disappeared into the woods, like a coward.

  No one had seen him since that night.

  Foolishly, he’d hoped the little man had permanently disappeared. Should have known better.

  Chulah frowned, unable to stop the cynical bent of his mind. Hoklonote reappeared the same time the mysterious April arrived? Highly suspicious. Beneath the beautiful fairy appearance might lurk a soul of evil. He hardened his heart. His people depended on him. “How do I know this scent isn’t some kind of illusion? For all I know, you could be Hoklonote in disguise.”

  * * *

  This was not going well.

  Ridiculous tears burned the backs of April’s eyeballs. She’d expected way too much, had dared to hope this man could have feelings for her so soon. “Please, listen to me,” she pleaded, peeking past his large, muscular form. Had she been observed by any of her kind?

  Nervous, she glanced over her shoulder. Should they catch wind of this, the Council would chastise her for revealing her Fae form to a human.

  “Are you looking for someone?” Chulah asked, frowning.

  “N-nobody,” she lied, crossing two fingers behind her back. If any fairies were nearby, she’d die of shame. She’d been given a task. And she was failing. Spectacularly.

  “It’s hard to believe anything you say.”

  April didn’t think it possible, but her spirits further bottomed out. Enchant him, the Council would advise. You’re just like your mother, the queen would proclaim, a besotted fool. Loser, the rest of the fairies would sneer.

  “Please. This is no illusion. Hoklonote is gathering what wisps remain and what birds of the night are left.”

  Chulah shrugged. “We’ve contained Nalusa. After what happened last night, we know to stay together in large groups. That way, Hoklonote isn’t much of a threat.”

  “You’re wrong. He’ll still come after you and force the hunters to release Nalusa Falaya so they can rule together.”

  “Any of us would face death rather than free Nalusa.”

  “Are you so sure?” At his stone-faced expression, April sighed. “And I bet you thought Hanan felt the same. Until he betrayed you.”

  His face remained stoic. “How do you know about Hanan?”

  “Because we watch you and help from our plane of existence when we are able.” At least, she did. Most of the time, the other fairies couldn’t be bothered. She reached a hand out to touch him, but let it drop to her side. Chulah would think the contact merely a ploy to trick him. “Haven’t you ever felt a presence by
your side in battle?” April held her breath. For years now she’d been by his side, tripping his foes as much as possible, helping in every subtle way within her means—pinching the enemy, distracting the Ishkitini in flight, directing the wind his way to better pick up scents.

  And through it all, she’d come to admire Chulah—his quiet strength and confidence. His loyalty and dedication to the other shadow hunters and their cause. Surely he’d been able to pick up on some of her strong feelings and constant help?

  He hesitated. “Maybe,” he conceded. “During the last battle with Nalusa—were you there with me?”

  Whew. “Yes,” she breathed.

  “Is that the only time you’ve been alongside me?”

  “Mostly,” she hedged.

  In the past, she’d broken every fairy law by being with him even when it wasn’t necessary. She’d followed him because he fascinated her, enchanted her in his own human way. And she owed him a huge debt, one she could never repay. A dangerous undertaking to be near him so much. Remember what happened to your mother. Yet April was unable, or unwilling, to stop.

  “It isn’t, is it? You’ve been following me around everywhere.” His voice dropped dangerously low, a sure sign he was irritated.

  It was the same tone he used with his stepmother. April gulped.

  “Eavesdropping,” he continued. “No wonder you knew so much about me.” His words were clipped, cutting her heart with each syllable.

  This wasn’t what she’d imagined. In her dreams, she materialized and Chulah recognized something of her essence that had been with him through dangerous times. He’d be profoundly touched and grateful. And he would never remember their first encounter. He’d take her warning and together they would work to defeat a common enemy, thus restoring her reputation in the fairy realm and leaving her free to love whom she pleased. Which was Chulah.

  “I’m sorry. If only—”

  “Save it,” he interrupted. “At the next full moon, I and the rest of the hunters will search for Hoklonote. Consider your mission accomplished.”

  “But we can work together. That way—”

  But he’d left. April stared at his back, stomach tightening in distress. She’d been so sure she could reach him without resorting to enchantments.

  Maybe human love at first sight was a fairy tale after all.

  * * *

  Chulah ignored the rumbling in his gut. Three days without food would not kill him. He needed an answer. True, he hadn’t gone on a spirit quest for over a year, but he’d survived such a journey nearly a dozen times.

  Which didn’t mean the hunger pangs wouldn’t make him wish he were dead. But by the evening of the second day, his body would make the adjustment and his mind would sharpen, become more receptive to any messages or signs from the Other Side.

  He slowed his pace and eyed the small clearing in the midst of massive oaks. This would do. Chulah pitched his pup tent and set up camp. Not that a fire would serve any useful purpose since he wouldn’t be cooking or need its light to see at night or even its warmth in the early autumn. But often gazing into its blue core and in the flicker of ashes drifting skyward, a thought or image of significance to his problem would flash in his mind like a comet streaking through the heavens.

  Plus, it was something to do.

  He gathered large stones that he set in a circle, then collected twigs and large sticks to feed the flames. Carefully, he arranged the wood and pulled a pack of matches from his backpack. He was into camping and the traditional spirit retreat of his people, but not the primitive ways of old. Modern suited him fine when it came to starting a fire.

  A flare of light, a whiff of sulfur, and the montage of twigs and sticks exploded to orange. Its own kind of magic. He rubbed his jaw and concentrated on the problem.

  April.

  April with her sparkling caresses and violet scent and otherworldly hair. The woman—fairy—who claimed to have watched him for years and been by his side. Her charming naïveté on human customs. Hell, even her intoxication at the local pub was sweet and cute as she smiled and proclaimed her mission to save the world. He held her image in his mind until every detail of her face was etched so clearly he could almost reach out and touch her.

  Wait. Maybe he could.

  He glanced around the gathering darkness, listening and searching with every supernatural cell of his being. Nothing. He was surprisingly disappointed. He’d told her his plans and the need to be alone to think over her request. She’d respected his need for solitude.

  Chulah adjusted the blanket beneath his legs and took a long, cool swallow of water from the canteen. His belly clawed for solid food, but water helped sate its clamor.

  Deep breaths, in and out, and noticing the tiny pause in between. Calming, sinking into solitude and focus, allowing his mind to drift where it willed, trusting the spirits to direct his thoughts where his attention needed to focus.

  Peace flowed from scalp to toes in a slow-moving stream. For this moment, at this space and time, all was well and as it should be. The sensation was familiar and welcome. Many times in the past he had done such a request or retreat.

  Always, a message would be given. Either through a planted thought from an ancestor spirit, or by an encounter with an animal or bird. Signs available to anyone if they took the time to be alone with themselves and with nature and study its ways.

  With time and patience, he would emerge from his quest with a decision reached on some vexing problem, or with renewed energy and peace to take care of all the demands on his time: family, employees, and his sacred mission to hunt the shadows and keep evil at bay.

  If it took longer than three days to decide if the Fae should be trusted and given assistance, then he would wait as long as it took for his answer. Because he had to get this right. If April and her kind were trying to trick the shadow hunters, it could be disastrous for his fellow hunters. But if her warning was true and Hoklonote was a threat, the hunters had to help. They were born to do so, to protect the world from the shadows, to keep a balance in the bayou.

  There would always be evil, as there would always be goodness and light. A shadow hunter existed to ensure balance.

  And so he waited for a sign.

  * * *

  Bells tinkled at the front door. Finally, Steven had returned. He’d promised to round up several fairies to watch over Chulah in the woods. Far enough away so that Chulah couldn’t detect them, but close enough that they could intervene should there be a shadow attack.

  She hurried from the back of the store. “Is Chulah okay? Is everything...?”

  Oh, hell, it wasn’t Steven.

  “So you must be April.” Tallulah pinned her with a hard stare. Her sharp, angular features and stony eyes were even more intimidating than her brother’s haughty bearing. Easy to see that she and Tombi were twins. They were both born to lead and to assert their will.

  Face-to-face, the fierce charisma of Tallulah was a potent force. She was not a woman that any man could ignore. Even if she wasn’t classically beautiful—her jaw was a fraction too dominant, her nose slightly long and sharp. But she had cheekbones to die for, a long curtain of black shiny hair and a female warrior body that was toned and chiseled. And she showed it to advantage, too, with tight jeans and colorful tops that featured plunging necklines. Tallulah was tall and exuded confidence. She proudly showed her heritage with a turquoise beaded necklace and bracelets and a leather belt with a large turquoise-and-coral buckle. Altogether, a look that proclaimed, “Here I am. Take notice.”

  As if Tallulah didn’t have all that going for her, there was the heavy knowledge in April’s heart that this was the woman Chulah loved. The woman he’d proposed to mere days ago.

  April wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her floral skirt, spirits plummeting. Next to Tallulah, she appeared like a ghostly sissy. A piece of cotton-candy fluff next to steel wool.

  “And you must be Tallulah.” She lifted her chin and offered a tentative smile.


  Her unwelcome visitor didn’t soften for a second. Instead, her eyes narrowed. “You don’t look like a fairy. Where are your wings?”

  April stiffened. “They don’t appear when I’m in human form.”

  “Sorry if I have trouble believing that. You appear ordinary enough to me. Show me one of your tricks if you’re really a fairy. Fly around the room or do some abracadabra with a fairy wand.”

  If she had a wand, she’d zap Tallulah into the nether land and smack that smirk off her face. “Tricks?” April licked her lips. “I don’t have any.”

  “Then how can you prove you’re a fairy? I think you’re a liar.”

  Anger flushed her cheeks. “I don’t have to prove anything to you. Chulah believes me.”

  “Chulah’s a dear friend. His only fault is that he’s too kind, too trusting. A real sucker for helping out others.”

  April snapped at the insult to Chulah. He was intelligent and cautious. So he had a blind spot in his heart for his stepmother and half siblings. That didn’t make him a sucker. “And you would know. Right? You’ve strung him along ever since Bo’s death, let him think he had a chance with you when all the while you were sleeping with Hanan.”

  Tallulah drew an indignant breath and put her hands on her hips. “I didn’t string Chulah along! How the hell would you know anything about it, anyway?”

  “Because I’ve watched you. That’s right. I’ve seen your lingering glances, the way you’ve touched him—a heartbeat longer than necessary. Yeah, you led him on, gave him just enough encouragement for him to think you would turn to him after you finished grieving for Bo and your brief fling with Hanan. Must have really stroked your ego to have a fine man like Chulah desiring you.”

  Tallulah stood immobile, as if shock had rendered her frozen. “Th-that’s not true.”

  “It is true. Admit it.”

  She vehemently shook her head, black hair rolling and shimmering like a dark sea wave. “No. At least...not intentionally.”

  “Only because it suited you not to take a hard look at your behavior.”