Bayou Shadow Hunter

He had no idea. But it seemed logical. “Absolutely,” he said with conviction.

“And if I help you, you promise to protect me?”

“I do.”

Annie looked down to the ground, and Tombi held his breath, awaiting her answer.

“I’m in,” she said in a rush.

Chapter 3 (#ulink_c7aaec96-5255-564a-81fe-0f9ccc91e850)

What had she gotten herself into? She wanted a normal life, but what good was that if she was killed in the process? But she had to try. She had to trust that Tombi would protect her.

Grandma Tia had been no help, and no matter how many spells and strips of paper she burned under the full moon, nothing changed. If anything, her hearing grew stronger, more disruptive.

Tombi nodded. “Great. We begin now.”

Hope bubbled through her like uncorked champagne on New Year’s Eve. She was about to start a new life. Do all those things she’d longed to do: get a real job, be around people and relate normally. Simple acts most people took for granted.

He turned and beckoned her to follow.

“Where are we going?” she asked happily. No waiting for the full moon this time. Hope had arisen right here in the midafternoon sunshine. “Is there a special place for a spell? Like an energy vortex or something?” She hurried along the path.

He shot an incredulous look over his shoulder. “What are you babbling about?”

“I’m curious how you’re going to do this. I think Grandma Tia never helped me because she didn’t know how, though she would never admit it.”

“We aren’t casting any spells.”

“Are you taking me to a special healer, then? Like a shaman?”

He sighed loudly and planted his feet so abruptly she plowed into his back.

He turned and steadied her. “We’re going to my camp, so you can meet the other hunters. I want to know who that betrayer is. If there is one.”

Annie’s eyes narrowed. “So, you won’t help me until I help you first.”

“That’s right.”

Worry quickly overcame her frustration. “But what if I can’t pick up anything from them?”

“You will,” he said confidently. “I’m the best in the group at controlling my energy, yet you picked up the drumming.”

“But it was only a drumming sound. Nothing good or bad about it,” she protested.

“True, but it picked up something of my nature. A primitive beat passed down through my ancestry.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she muttered, picking her way carefully through the prickly saw palmettos and dense underbrush. Tombi kept a slower pace today, albeit still a brisk one. “Tell me about these other hunters.”

The more she knew going in, the less nervous she would be. Annie hated meeting new people, especially in a group situation where each aura would jumble with the others into a confusing din.

“We’re down to four in the inner circle since Bo died. Me, Chulah, Hanan and my sister, Tallulah.”

“So, what is it you actually do? How do you fight Nalusa and his shadow spirits?”

Tombi didn’t answer right away. “It’s something you would have to see and be a part of to really understand.”

Meaning he didn’t want to say any more on the subject. Great. Fine by her. The less she knew, the fewer nightmares she’d dream. She’d help him find the betrayer, and he’d help her control hearing auras. Then she could have the normal life she craved, and he could...maybe win his battle. Get revenge for his friend’s death. They could both move on.

They continued until the path widened, and she spotted over two dozen tents pitched in a field. They were arranged in a circle, and in the middle of it all was a thin stream of smoke that wafted upward from a modest fire. The acrid smell of burning oak stirred her with a sense of home and cozy evenings warming by the fireplace.

“You all must be great friends,” she said, picturing them telling stories in the evening by campfire, sharing a bond of fighting evil. They were all part of something bigger than themselves. For a moment, it made her own dream seem small and selfish.

And he wanted her to come into this...this tight group of friends and point the finger at one of them? Annie rubbed the unexpected chill on her arms. She wasn’t sure what she feared most: being unable to recognize the betrayer, or singling out someone and facing their collective wrath.

Nobody would thank her for disrupting their alliance, that was for sure. She peeked at Tombi’s stern profile, took in his long, slightly hooked nose, pronounced jaws and cheekbones, and heavy brows. What was his role in this band of hunters?

“Your name’s unusual. What does it mean?” she asked abruptly, hoping to learn more about him.

“Ray of light.”

Annie snorted, and he raised a brow. “What?”

She couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re no ray of sunshine.”

He stared at her blankly before a rusty rumble of laughter escaped his mouth, as if it had been years since one last escaped. “At one time, my people worshiped the sun, so to be named after its ray is a great honor.”

“What about your friend Bo? Is that a good ole Southern name as in B-e-a-u, short for Beauregard?”

“No. It’s B-o, short for Bohpoli. That’s Choctaw for ‘thrower.’”

Would she ever hear Bo again? She shivered, remembering his plaintive pleas for help.

Although their movements were quiet and their voices low, they had attracted attention. A woman and three men solemnly filed out of the tent circle and stood in the center, awaiting their approach with unsmiling faces.

Holy hoodoo, this was going to be even tougher than she imagined.

Annie tugged the back of Tombi’s T-shirt, and he frowned down at her. “What?”

“Have you told them anything about me?”

“We tell each other everything.”

She groaned. “Terrific. Bet they can’t wait to meet me. I wish you hadn’t told them.”

“There should be no secrets among my hunters. No doubts or suspicions about the man—or woman—you have to depend on for your life.”

Her shoulders slumped. She couldn’t argue with his logic, although she resented the situation he’d put her in. They walked onward several minutes, not speaking.