Harlequin Nocturne March 2016 Box Set (36 page)

BOOK: Harlequin Nocturne March 2016 Box Set
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Did he ever. Yet, Tombi hesitated. If she stayed with him indefinitely here in his cabin, shared his bed, Annie might have...expectations. Best to establish boundaries now. He sat on the edge of the bed. “About last night—”

The happiness in her face melted, the soft, vulnerable shine in her eyes hardened. “Don't worry. I expect nothing.”

The reasons why she should do just that—expect nothing—died on his lips. Someone had hurt her badly. “Damn. Who made you so bitter? Evan?”

“He made it clear that a girl like me should be grateful for any attention thrown her way. That sex is just sex. Not to be confused with love.” She turned her face to the side, stiff and brittle.

Tombi gently placed a finger on her uplifted chin and drew her face toward him. “A girl like you? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I've told you before, I'm known as Crazy Annie in my hometown.”

“You're a beautiful, exceptional woman,” he argued.

“Then why—” Her voice trembled, and she took a shaky breath. “Go on and say what you have to say.”

“It's not you, it's me.” Damn, that sounded lame even to his own ears. Tombi dropped his hand and paced the room, needing his space, needing to find the words that were impossible to formulate while staring into her disappointed eyes.

“It's like this,” he began. “My life is dedicated to stopping Nalusa and the wisps and all the dark creatures of the night from taking control of the light, of all that's good in the world. It's been my mission since I was nineteen years old. It's what I was born to do.”

“I wouldn't stop you,” she said softly.

“You say that now. But when it comes time for me to face Nalusa, you might try to stop me from what I have to do. Guilt me into turning away.” He'd seen it with a few hunters, the ones who'd chosen to marry and raise families. Priorities changed.

“No one's ever put me first. Don't worry, I won't expect it now.”

The hard edge was back in her tone, in the pinched set of her lips.

“You deserve better than that.” Tombi strode to the window, where the first sun rays peeped through the horizon, casting shadows that broke up the darkness. But for him, there was no ameliorating the darkness. He faced the truth, the secret fear he'd lived with for so long.

He was afraid that the darkness would win. Not just in the real, bayou backwaters and beyond, but deep in his soul. Ever since his parents had died, a wound had festered inside that had been fed through a series of subsequent blows—the death of his best friend, the loss of kinship with his twin sister, the growing realization he was fighting a battle he most likely could not win.

If Annie and her grandmother hadn't come along when they did...he'd have surely died from Nalusa's snakebite.

“I've already caused you enough grief,” he said gruffly. “Your grandmother may well die because of her effort to save me.”

“I don't blame you anymore. For whatever reason, she made her own decision. Grandma Tia's always been that way.” Annie gave a shaky laugh. “She's doing better, you know. She's awakened from the coma.”

Relief lightened the pressure in his chest, where guilt and worry weighed like a boulder. Unfortunately, it was still heavy from other burdens. “Good to hear.”

“Now, if you don't mind, could you give me some privacy to get dressed?”

The hurt in her eyes and the former frost in her voice had disappeared, but she was overly polite, distant. “Annie, I...” He stopped, unsure how to proceed. Wasn't this what he wanted? To put some emotional distance between them?

“I'll say it for you. The sex was mediocre and you aren't in love with me, so I shouldn't get any ideas that this is some kind of permanent relationship.”

“What?” Shock and pain iced the blood in his veins. She was quite the actress if his lovemaking hadn't pleased her. Unfamiliar heat rose up the back of his neck. He'd been accused of being too fierce, too unfeeling and too bent on revenge, but he'd never had any complaints about his sexual prowess. “I could have sworn you were satisfied.”

“I was, but you weren't. There, happy now?”

“Who said I wasn't?” Damn, she was confusing as hell.

Her eyes narrowed. “I thought that's what you were trying to tell me.”

“Let's start over.” Tombi folded his arms. “I only wanted to warn you that my number-one priority right now is defeating Nalusa. The situation is dangerous and headed for a breaking point.”

“I already know this.”

So far, so good. Annie seemed calm and accepting. If it had been Courtney sitting there in his bed...he'd be paying hell. She'd broken up with him because she wasn't first in his life. She resented the time he spent hunting during the full moon and the allegiance he had to his people.

“It doesn't bother you?”

“I worry about your safety.”

“Which leads me to my next point. Nalusa and the shadows grow more powerful every day, and they have an inside track to our whereabouts and strategy, thanks to some informer. It could well be that the next full moon, Nalusa will go after me again. This time, I don't expect to live through it.”

“Oh, Tombi.” Annie dropped the sheet and climbed out of bed. Her body, only a shade lighter than his own, glowed in the pale dawn light. She approached him slowly and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Don't say that. Don't even think it. We'll find the betrayer. Together, we can work out a plan. And now that Grandma Tia is coming around, she'll help, too.”

He wanted to believe Annie, but the years hadn't trained his mind to expect the best. “I wish I didn't have to involve you or your grandmother. But if there's any chance you could turn this war around in our favor, I need you.”

“I'll help you.”

Annie rested her head against his bare chest, and he stroked her hair, humbled at her willingness to stand with him and his people. “Thank you,” he murmured in the comforting warmth of her scalp.

“I've never been needed before.”

“Hard to believe.” If he wasn't careful, he could grow to need her too much, could bask in her kindness and healing nature and let her brighten the dark, warring evenings.

She lifted her face. “It's true. I've always been the afterthought, never normal enough or smart enough to fit in with my own family, much less a boyfriend.”

If he could, he'd erase every painful memory she suffered. Would kiss away every tear and chase away all her doubts and insecurities as mercilessly as he tracked down every wisp leading to Nalusa.

“Their loss,” he ground out. Damn it to hell, if there was any way to keep from hurting her, he would.

Don't fall in love with me, Annie
. He should tell her, warn her. But he couldn't bring himself to say the words. He bent down and kissed her full lips, hungry for her touch, her feel. As if last night hadn't been enough.

Tombi feared it would never be enough. There weren't enough days and nights in his lifetime for making love with Annie. He pressed his hands on the sides of her hips, marveling at her soft skin, at the way her body melded to his own, seeking oneness. He was selfishly taking all she had to offer. Eternal spirits help him, he couldn't caution Annie to guard her heart.

Because much to his chagrin, he needed the warning more than she did.

CHAPTER 12

T
he clear, pure melody of the flute danced in the breeze. As if a flock of birds warbled in the same octave, with high notes that trilled in a soaring ecstasy, tempered by a deeper undertone of mourning. And blended between was all manner of feeling: lyrical, haunting. Weeping whistles of warring hope and despair.

Tombi stopped playing, and the silence echoed in Annie's brain like a sudden death. “You're up early,” he commented, his rigid back to her. His shirt was off, and the golden skin on his chest glistened with sweat. The red bandana on his forehead was wet.

It was one hell of a sexy sight.

Annie continued across the yard toward him, carefully maneuvering between workbenches and piles of wood and cabinet frames. The air smelled of cut pine.

She faced him, trying to evaluate his mood. Yesterday he'd been aloof, despite the previous night's closeness. He'd spent most of yesterday out speaking with other hunters and planning a meeting. All afternoon and into the evening, he'd worked his carpentry job, claiming to be behind schedule. But last night... She blushed, remembering their intense lovemaking. “Enjoying your break?” she asked.

“I was.” He nodded at the pocketbook hanging from her shoulder. “You going to visit your grandmother again today?”

“Yes. Unless you're ready to give me another lesson.”

He picked up a piece of lumber and placed it on the workbench. “Why don't you go ahead? The lessons can wait.”

“Maybe for you,” she answered sharply, frustrated with his aloofness during the day. He acted as if he wanted to shut her out of a large part of his life.

He raised a brow. “Problem?”

“Seems like you've been avoiding showing me how to control my hearing. We had a deal. Remember?”

He frowned. “Is that all that's wrong? I've been a little busy. Give me a break.”

Annie tried another tactic. “I thought you said time was of the essence, that things were heading to a showdown between you and Nalusa.”

“I have no way of knowing for sure, but that's my gut feeling.”

“And you said you needed my help. So why aren't you putting me to work for you? I feel like you're shutting me out.” Except when he wanted her body.

“All I need is for you to come with us during the next hunt to let us know when you hear something that we can't. Especially if Bo tries to communicate again.”

“There must be something we can do between now and the full moon.”

A knowing smile broke through Tombi's inscrutably calm face, and his pupils darkened. “I can think of a few things,” he said with that deep gruffness she remembered from last night's bedtime talk.

“Well, there's always
that
.” She cleared her throat. “My grandma's expecting me to eat breakfast with her at the hospital. Want to come with me?”

He picked up a saw and shook his head. “Not now. I have a couple client appointments today. Tell her I'll drop by again this evening.”

“Suit yourself.” Annie headed to her car, conscious of him watching her. She turned her face slightly to the side. Sure enough, he stood, saw in hand, staring at her ass. Her own lips upturned in a knowing smile as she climbed into her vehicle. She had the power to break through his remote facade whenever she wished.

Was it wrong to hunger for more? There must be something she could do to gain his respect, to make him see she could be a stronger ally. Some way to defeat Nalusa. As long as Nalusa lived and controlled the wisps and the birds of the night, Tombi wasn't free to live a normal life. His need for revenge consumed him.

“Be careful,” Tombi called out.

Annie started the car and headed for the county road, her mind filled with possibilities. For starters, she could return to the cottage and study the grimoires she'd culled from Grandma Tia's collection. Maybe there was something there. She glanced at the dashboard clock. She had time for a little reading before visiting her grandma. Annie gunned the motor and arrived at the cottage quickly, filled with optimism. Must be some reason Grandma Tia communicated about the grimoires while she was in the coma, even if she didn't now remember why or how she'd done so.

Inside, she lit candles and settled at the kitchen table. She pulled the top one off the stack and opened it. Metallic ink shimmered on the pages with its flecks of crimson, forest green and ocean blue. The crinkling as she turned the page seemed an unnaturally loud rustle, as if a pile of dead leaves were stirred by a stiff breeze.

A sudden scent enveloped her awareness. An earthy, bitter greens top note sweetened with rich, dark undertones. Annie inhaled and analyzed the enticing mixture—it contained licorice, vanilla and myrrh. She'd noticed it before around the cottage, often when Grandma Tia performed a ritual calling on the guidance of an ancestor.

“Who are you?” she whispered, her skin tingling. The scent grew stronger, as if a spirit drew closer. Annie waited, hardly daring to breathe, but no other sign was offered. “Thank you for coming,” she said, louder, more confident this time. She'd asked for help, and it looked as if she was getting it.

She ran her fingers down the cracked spine of the old grimoire. This book was the one. It whispered promises and answers. The strong premonition settled in her gut while her heart raced.

Primitive music sounded—so faint she wasn't sure she heard it at first. Annie strained and deciphered the vibration of a drum that provided a base to a flute. The music was subtly different from what Tombi played—there were fewer notes, less range of pitch, less sophistication. But instead of deterring from the sound quality, it made it more unique and poignant.

The pages began turning without any assistance, like an invisible hand leafing through the tome. It was like the time when she was twelve and playing with her grandma's Ouija board without permission. An unseen force had moved the planchette across the alphabet, spelling a slightly sinister message. Even now, Annie preferred tarot cards and crystals to seek help from beyond.

This time felt different, not sinister at all. As if the unseen hand was pointing toward a solution. Besides, an ancestor was in the room with her, one that smelled of strong femininity grounded by the earth.

The rustling stopped. Reverently, Annie pulled the grimoire closer and started reading. Excitement charged her body like an electrical shock at the story of an old Choctaw tale involving Nalusa Falaya and how his spirit was bound in an ancient ritual performed by the strongest warriors in the tribe.

Why had Tombi never mentioned this ritual? Annie tapped an index finger against her lips and gazed out the kitchen window, deep in thought. Maybe he hadn't heard of it, or maybe he did know about it and didn't believe it would work. Worry wiggled into her consciousness. Or maybe he knew there was a ritual, and he hoped to enlist her cooperation to perform it with him. And if that was the case, perhaps he didn't mention it hoping that in time she would become so bound to him through their relationship, she wouldn't refuse the request when he made it.

Annie shook her head, refusing to let negativity cloud her brain with such questions. If Tombi was trying to control her through a relationship, he'd be telling her he loved her and promising her the moon instead of keeping his distance.

She continued reading. In order for the containing ritual to work, the tribe leader needed to summon Nalusa with their sacred flute, crafted with the spirits' help. It was ancient, originally created at the time of Nalusa's first rise to power.

Chills tingled up and down Annie's spine. It all came together. Bo's words to find the music contained in the wind. The image of a flute Grandma Tia communicated from her bedside at the hospital.

Find that flute, and they would have the key to defeat Nalusa and his shadow creatures.

Kee-eeeee-ar
. A hoarse screeching erupted as a large, rust-colored bird flew close against the windowpane and then jettisoned away in a flurry of beating wings.
Kee-eeeee-ar
.

Beating wings. Just like in her dreams. Annie jumped up and ran to the front door and down the porch steps, but the bird flew into the woods and disappeared. Some animal spirit guide; it did nothing but startle her. A small glint of dusty red and a shiver of movement by the kitchen window caught her eye. She walked across the grass and picked up a feather lying on the sill, fancying it still felt warm to the touch.

A memento from her bird, her guide. She held it in her hands, awed at the physical evidence left behind. Maybe it was like a courtship—every day it would draw closer and reveal more of its nature. Was there some way to thank it for appearing?

She scurried inside and returned with several pieces of bread. She crumbled them in her hands and cast them on the yard. “A little something for you,” she called out toward the woods. She liked to think the bird was out there, watching—watching and protecting her from the birds of the night and snakes that crept nearby unawares, coiled to strike with deadly venom.

Annie spun in a dizzy circle of happiness, her heart lightened with optimism and hope. Even if Tombi was consumed with revenge and headed for a showdown with the bayou shadow world, she had not only an ancestor spirit guide, but also an animal guide helping her seek a way to defeat the evil. First, she would conquer evil and prove her trust and worthiness, and then she'd make headway into Tombi's heart and future.

She might just discover a real love.

Over halfway to the hospital, it struck Annie that she hadn't even considered her own need to control her hearing. If she hadn't already lost her heart to Tombi, she was damn close.

* * *

Annie burst through his door and found him in the kitchen. Her eyes glowed with excitement, and her aura burst with energy. “Let's go on a hunt tonight.”

What the hell had gotten into her? She hated hunting, the stumbling around in the dark and the fear of encountering a snake. Not that Tombi could blame her; she'd witnessed the worst of the worst after Nalusa had almost killed him and her grandmother. He set his glass of tea on the counter. “What brought about this change of heart?”

“I may have found a way to defeat Nalusa.” She lifted up an old, thick book with aged, yellow paper poking out of its sides, and rocked on her tiptoes, grinning as she awaited his reaction.

Yeah, right. She'd never heard of Nalusa until last week, and now she had a plan to defeat the king of the shadow world? After he and the other trained hunters had been trying for years with no success? He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. This should be amusing.

“Aren't you dying to hear?”

“Shoot,” he said, lips curving into an indulgent smile.

“It's true. Grandma Tia and my great-great-great-great-grandmother, Belle Hamilton, led me to a possible way.”

“I think you added a couple of extra
greats
in there. It would make her close to a couple hundred years old.”

Annie blinked. “I didn't say she was
alive
. Anyway, we need to find the ancient flute that your ancestors used to keep Nalusa's power contained.”

“Ah, so you heard that old tale. Surprising, though—it's not a generally known story.” He nodded at the book she clutched in front of her. “I guess the story's in there.”

The sparkle in her chocolate eyes dwindled. “You already knew about it,” she accused. “You might have mentioned it.”

“What's to tell? I've never figured there was any truth to it.”

“But...but why not? It's a recorded legend by the Choctaws.”

“And so are stories of the
Kowi anuskasha
—knee-high fairy creatures said to roam the bayou and play tricks on humans. I don't believe in them, either.”

“It's worth a try.”

“Only one problem. There is no such flute. Or if there ever was one, it's long since vanished.”

“There must be. I heard it playing.”

His heartbeat pounded in his ears, like the roar of a million insects on a rain-dampened summer night. This couldn't be. “Say that again.”

“I heard the flute. Remember the grimoire Grandma Tia told me to find when she was in the coma? Well, I started reading it when all of a sudden I smelled this distinctive scent that was familiar. I couldn't place it, but when I visited Tia at the hospital she said it was my great-great—”

“Great-great-grandmother,” he cut in impatiently. “Tell me the part where you hear the flute.”

She frowned but continued on. “Anyway, as I was reading about the legend, the notes of a Native American flute drifted up from the pages. It sounded more primitive than yours. I even know what it looks like.” She tapped the aged book. “There's a drawing and a description in here.”

Excitement buzzed along his spine. “Let me see.”

Annie opened it to a page marked with a red thread and pointed. “Right there.”

He carefully took the book, afraid the fragile tome would crumble at rough handling. Tombi scanned the elegant cursive handwriting with its unusual glimmering ink and the dried brown bits of old flowers stuffed in its pages. Halfway down the right page was a drawing of the flute. A design was burned into the cane wood, but a long turkey feather tied at the base obscured the carving.

“Do you have it here in your bookcase?” she asked breathlessly.

He frowned at the description—it could belong to almost any of the reed instruments he'd collected over the years. Of course, the feather would have rotted away by now or have been switched out over the years. Tombi made his way to the den and stood in front of his music collection. Each one had given him so much peace over the years, had inspired him to learn to play and even craft several of his own flutes.

“Did you find these yourself?” Annie asked by his side.

“No. Tallulah works at the local museum, and she alerts me whenever they host a fund-raising auction. That's how I got most of these artifacts, except for the odd pottery shard or arrowhead.”

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