Debbie Herbert - Bayou Shadow Protector

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Native American legends and the fairy world combine in a bayou filled with danger, deception and deadly secrets . . .As a shadow hunter of ancient, evil spirits Chulah Rivers is used to strange creatures and happenings in the bayou. But when April Meadows appears out of nowhere to enlist the Native American's help in a battle that threatens the balance of the fae and human worlds, Chulah is plunged into a deadly battle–and confronted with an all-consuming desire for this mysterious stranger who knows far too much about his past . . . .

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Even after he’d hung up the phone, jealousy and curiosity wouldn’t let her leave. She’d sleep so much easier if she knew for certain that Tallulah wasn’t coming over. Chulah didn’t go straight to bed; instead, he opened a book and began to read.

Minutes later, car headlights turned in the driveway and pierced the dark. A man jumped out and ran to the door. Ah, yes, she recognized his friend Tombi Silver. A smile lit her lips. No reason to stay, other than she couldn’t bear to tear her eyes from the lit window and go back to her bare, lonely apartment.

And so she hovered, reluctant to leave.

Chapter 4

“What the hell? A new creature we’ve never seen?”

Chulah’s face warmed at his friend’s incredulous stare. “I swear it’s true. Saw it with my own eyes. It had wings and...” he stammered, reluctant to share his theory. But their survival depended on total honesty and trust. “If I had to give it a name, I’d say it was a fairy.”

Tombi paced the small cabin. “I believe you saw something out there. It’s just...fairies?” He stopped and stared out the window where shadows lengthened and the woods beckoned with their promise of magic and danger.

“We shouldn’t be so surprised,” Chulah said. “If there are will-o’-the-wisps, birds of the night, and spirits like Hoklonote and Nalusa Falaya, why not a whole host of other supernatural creatures?”

Tombi shook his head. “You’re sure this thing had actual wings?”

That glowed with the light and warmth of a thousand candles. Stunning. Disturbing. But Tombi didn’t need to know the effect this mystical creature had on his senses.

His friend pierced him with a hard stare. “Why did it come to you?”

He didn’t say it, but he didn’t need to. As leader of the shadow hunters, Tombi should have been the human contacted, not him. He was only second-in-command. Actually, he’d been only third-in-command until the traitorous Hanan died in the last great battle.

“I’m not sure why,” Chulah said with a shrug.

“Think there’s any correlation between your new girl and this vision in the woods? I mean, here’s this stranger in town who talks about the shadow spirits. No humans speak of such things. Even our own people regard them as old stories with no truth.”

Tombi voiced Chulah’s own inner speculations, but hearing it from another set off warning flares. And he hadn’t told Tombi that April even knew highly personal things about him, like Tallulah’s rejection. He sure as hell wasn’t going to bring up that fiasco to Tombi. Too embarrassing. “She’s not my anything. And we can’t be a hundred percent sure that she’s a...a fairy or whatever I saw out there tonight.”

“I want to meet this April tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, you should meet. I’m sure she’ll be at her store.”

“I’ll take my wife along. Annie has amazing insight.”

“Good idea. And I’ll go with you,” he said quickly, not liking the idea of April being under an inquisition and ganged up on. Three against one was hardly fair. Annie was the epitome of kindness and gentleness, but Tombi could be intimidating and brusque. Chulah frowned, aware that he’d leaped at the chance to shield April. Her feelings should be of no importance in unraveling the mystery.

“Come if you like.” Tombi folded his arms and studied Chulah. “Let’s hunt. Could you conjure this Fae form to reappear?”

“Haven’t got a clue. But I can show you the tree where I saw it. Where sound and movement stop around the base of the trunk.”

He nodded. “Stay alert for signs of Hoklonote. Maybe we’ve grown a little complacent since capturing Nalusa.”

Chulah lifted his backpack off the kitchen table, where it was loaded with a slingshot and rocks. The familiar feel of the weapons shifting in the pack made him eager for action. “I’ve got an extra one if you need it,” he offered.

“My backpack’s in the car.”

“Let’s go, then.” Chulah wanted Tombi to witness what he had. Over the years since the lost-time episode, no one brought up the subject. Not to his face. Yet Chulah wondered if they secretly mistrusted his sanity. Other than an alcoholic, who the hell lost time? Only him.

“Wait. I want to talk a minute.” Tombi hesitated. “I spoke with Tallulah earlier.”

Damn. Chulah groaned inwardly. “I’d rather not talk about your sister,” he said stiffly, making a show of unzipping the backpack and checking his weapons.

“She’s worried about you.”

“Right. Tell her I’m fine,” he said, avoiding Tombi’s eyes.

“Are you really?”

“Yes. Okay? I don’t want to have this conversation.”

“Might do you good.”

Chulah didn’t bother with a reply.

Tombi sighed. “Then let me say one thing and we’ll never speak of this again.”

“If you must.”

His friend laid a hand on his shoulder. “The three of us have been friends all our lives and I don’t want that to end.”

“It won’t.” Chulah started for the door.

“Hey, buddy,” Tombi called from behind.

Chulah stopped but didn’t turn around.

“I would have loved it if Tallulah had returned your feelings and we became more like brothers. I’ve hoped for that ever since Bo’s death. But I guess you and my twin are too alike for a romantic relationship.”

Chulah slowly faced him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re both stubborn and possessive and set in having your own way.”

Chulah opened his mouth to object, then snapped it back shut. He remembered their childhood escapades. Even at that young age, all three of them had argued about taking the lead and how they would spend their day. Being a girl didn’t slow Tallulah down a bit. She was a wild tomboy, as fierce and brave and as aggressive as her brother and any of his friends. A real spitfire.

He had always admired that. She was so different from his stepmother and half sister, Brenda, who complained endlessly and depended on him to take care of everything.

“You’d be better off with someone not as much like you,” Tombi continued.

His friend never used to say such ridiculous crap. Marriage had softened Tombi. “If you’re through playing psychologist, I’ll be outside waiting for you to get your stuff.” Chulah stepped into the night and breathed deeply.

Maybe Tombi was right. Maybe he and Tallulah would have made a horrible couple, who would spend their lives constantly arguing. Maybe he’d be better off with a different sort of woman. A woman with a gentle, soft nature but an electric touch.

Chulah straightened his shoulders. Enough of such foolish thoughts.

* * *

It was like any other autumn night, and they’d hunted the same area hundreds of times. As a child, Chulah enjoyed this season more than any other—the slight chill in the air that annihilated the smothering swamp humidity. But even though winters and autumns were mild, at times the Gulf breeze whipped so fiercely that bits of sand peppered the flesh like BB-gun pellets. It wouldn’t kill or cause serious injury, but it hurt like hell.

“Don’t expect anything,” Chulah warned Tombi as they entered the woods. “I have a feeling I caught the thing by surprise earlier.”

Adrenaline coursed through his veins, more than the usual anticipatory hunting mode. He’d never hunted unknown creatures before. Would it appear?

Chulah led the way, sure of his direction. His eyes adjusted to the dark and his senses heightened. He felt the pulse of scrambling squirrels, the splash of fish, the buzz of skeeters, the retreating tide. Somewhere, someone far away had lit a campfire, and he inhaled the smoke of sweet gum and oak, an autumnal scent that brought back childhood memories of Halloween parties and hayrides. A more carefree time.

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