Bayou Shadow Hunter

She had the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry. Touchy point with me. I was teased unmercifully in grade school because I had to be taught in a separate room one-on-one with a teacher’s aide. The music from all the other students made it impossible for me to concentrate in a regular classroom.” She took a shuddering breath. “They used to call me Crazy Annie.”

That must have been tough for a sensitive girl. “Kids can be cruel. I promise I wasn’t making a comment on your intelligence. What I meant was that I’ll show you how I block my energy. It’s a skill my parents taught me, so it stands to reason that, with the right training, you can do the same.”

A wistful sadness shadowed her eyes.

“You don’t think you can do it?” he asked gently.

She bit her lip. “Oh, it’s silly. But what I was really hoping is that you’d arrange for a shaman to remove it. You know, something quick and easy.”

He fixed her with a hard stare.

Annie flushed. “I know. That’s awful of me. I just want to get on with my life.”

“Meaning what? What would you do without your special hearing ability that you can’t do now?” Annie was hard to understand. He could control his senses to some degree, yet it didn’t change who he was, or his purpose in life.

She threw up her hands. “You can’t laugh.”

At his steady wait, Annie admitted, “I want to be a librarian.”

“Then do it.” He shrugged. “Now. No one’s stopping you.”

“Even in a library, the noise gets to be too much after a while. There’s more peace and quiet there than any other public place, but it still grates. I can’t see me working as a librarian forty hours a week.”

Annie stood and walked around the small den, picking up stray items and straightening stacks of books and magazines. “And it’s more than wanting to work a full-time job. I’d like to have friends, a family, a social life.”

“The music is that disruptive for you?” It might be hell for Annie, but this extraordinary ability could only be good for his hunters. And he would try to help her control her gift.

Eventually.

Once he’d gotten all he could from her. Duty first, always.

For the first time in days, a surge of hope fueled a fire within him. “Then what do you have to lose by helping me?” he asked. “I’ll make sure no harm comes to you.”

She carefully placed a book back down on a coffee table. “I really, really, really hate snakes,” she said, dead serious. “So you’d better protect me like you promised.”

“I will,” he vowed. “With my life.” This he could say with no guilt or deception.

Annie picked up a picture of her grandma and bent her head over it. Her long, wavy hair covered her face, but her shoulders shook, and he knew she wept. Surprisingly, it made him long to put his arms around her and kiss away her tears. He hardened his heart—this wouldn’t do at all.