Debbie Herbert - Bayou Shadow Protector

“Whatever it is, you’ll drink it and be grateful,” Chulah said firmly. “She’s saved your ass more than once with her herbs.”

They made slow, painful progress. April flew behind, in case there were more surprise attacks.

Chulah suddenly halted, as if he had sensed her presence. He pumped a fist in the air. “Is that you, April? If you had anything to do with tonight, I’ll...” He sputtered to a stop, his eyes flashing like lightning and his voice deep and rumbling like thunder.

So he’d guessed and made a connection that she was the creature he’d seen earlier—although he couldn’t know for sure. Pain washed over her in waves, drowning her in misery. He was so blind, literally and figuratively.

And maybe...just maybe...he wasn’t the man she’d thought him to be. Maybe that young boy she had connected to, the one so moved at his father’s death, yet so kind and caring with his family, maybe that boy had died over the hard years of battles and deceits and deaths. Maybe the hardened warrior he’d become had lost the ability to love and sense the beauty that skittered outside his peripheral vision.

If so, that would be the greatest tragedy of all. April slumped to the ground. If only there was someone for her. Someone who cared. Had cared about her her whole life and she just didn’t know it.

But there was no one.

She lifted her head, full of resolve. Chulah didn’t have to know this pain. This crippling loneliness. She knew that somewhere inside Chulah, the young boy he’d been remained. She just had to find him. Even if he believed the worst of her, even if he learned the truth and condemned her for killing his father, she still loved him.

Chapter 5

Tombi must have been badly hurt.

All day, she’d expected him, his wife and Chulah to show up at the store. She’d even demanded that the irritating Steven stay by her side, sure the trio would try to trip her up with their questions. She couldn’t let them discover more about their race or the sacred fairy tree.

But the only thing worse than an inquisition was waiting for one to happen.

To hell with waiting and wondering. Steven had given up on them coming and had gone back to the Fae realm to visit and replenish his shape-shifting form.

April closed the store and rode her bike through the woods to Chulah’s cabin. The light shone from his windows, a welcoming beacon in the late-afternoon October chill. She rapped at the heavy wooden door, hoping to catch him alone.

He flung the door open and slumped against the frame. “You,” he said flatly.

His face was gray and his hair in wild disarray. He wore only a pair of low-slung jeans, and her mouth went dry at the sight of his bare chest and flat, muscled abs. Sure, she’d seen him bare-chested many times, but within actual touching range, as a human, was so different. It was all she could do not to run a hand down his sleek torso.

“Can I come in?” April peeked past him, relieved no one else was in sight. “You look awful. The wisps got to you last night.”

He stiffened. “What do you know about that?”

She couldn’t keep her big mouth shut. “I might have been there.” She’d been lying in bed in that stark apartment, breathing stale air, longing for the night air. To spread her wings and fly. So she came to the forest, soothing her soul with its life force. But instead of a peaceful interlude, she’d been drawn into battle.

Chulah’s eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. “You’re the...thing...I saw in the woods, aren’t you? Did you send the wisps our way?”

Obstinate, suspicious man. April put her hands on her hips, goaded into spilling her guts. She was tired of all the blame. It was time he learned she was his ally and not his enemy. “Yeah, I was there. And I took out three wisps for you.”

So much for waiting until Chulah was in love with her to reveal that she wasn’t an ordinary human. He continued to regard her wordlessly.

“You’re welcome,” she said, bristling. “Now, are you going to let me in or not? We need to talk.”

Chulah stepped to the side and waved her in.

April entered and studied the cabin’s interior. She’d never seen it before, except that small bit observable through a lit window at night. Not that she hadn’t tried. But Chulah and the other hunters placed consecrated sage and salt on all four corners of their dwellings for protection against the shadows. Even though she wasn’t one of the dark shadow spirits, in Fae form she was a nature spirit, and the salt and sage had effectively prevented her from entering.

Probably a good thing. She’d have been unable to resist being near Chulah as he slept, or even better, showered.

The rooms were as sparse as his words. Minimalistic. The coziness of the log walls contrasted with the modern lines of dark leather sofas and chairs. Bright-colored woven rugs adorned one wall and another enlivened the center of the den. April sat down. Motorcycle magazines, empty soda cans, a wet washcloth and a large bottle of aspirin lay scattered on a glass coffee table.

“Feeling poorly?”

“Like hell. But forget that. I want straight answers from you.” He sat across from her. “Who and what are you?”

April chose her words carefully, ones that she’d practiced ever since she’d been called to solicit help from the shadow hunters. “I’m an ambassador of sorts. Sent to warn you that Hoklonote is seeking dominion over the Fae realm—”

“Whoa.” He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “The Fae realm? There really are such things as fairies, then? Is that what you—”

“I’m not a real fairy.” At least not a pure one.

“You’re lying. That was you I saw in the woods.” He swiftly lowered his lips to her neck and sniffed. “That’s it. That’s the scent.”

April inched away, dismayed at his heightened sense of smell and at the same time aroused at the intimate contact. “I already told you I was there,” she said coolly, hiding the flustered beating of her heart.

“I smelled violets by that tree. It’s the way you smell.”

“I use a floral perfume,” she said, determined to refocus the conversation back to what mattered. “As I was saying, the Fae sent me to warn you and ask your help to defeat Hoklonote. They aren’t the only ones in danger here. If Hoklonote forces the Fae to work with him, he might succeed in unleashing Nalusa.”

He gave a low whistle. “You know your stuff. I’ll give you that.”

“Of course I do. I couldn’t solicit your help without knowing the situation.”

“An ambassador, huh? What the hell does that mean?”

She ran a hand over her skirt, ignoring the question. “Will you help us—I mean, will you help the Fae?” She sucked at lying.

“I’m not agreeing to a damn thing until you tell me the truth.” His eyes burned with anger...and perhaps a touch of fever.

Back off, April. He’s not buying what you’re selling. She reached across and ran a hand down his heated cheek. More than temper was at play. “You’re unwell. I can read it in your eyes and the flush on your face.”

“Nothing wrong with me. Just a headache from hell.”

Not likely. But she’d help him with that. “And your friend?”

“Worse. But he’s in good hands with Annie. She’ll fix him something to ease his pain.”

“Tia Henrietta’s granddaughter? The witch?” All the Fae had heard of Tia, the hoodoo queen of the swamp. Stood to reason that her granddaughter, Annie, was psychically gifted as well.

“Don’t call her that,” he snapped.

“I didn’t mean it as an insult. What does she call herself?”

“A root worker. Says she’s into hoodoo.”

April couldn’t understand the distinction. But whatever. Magic was magic no matter which name humans chose to call it.