She didn’t want to have this conversation. “So I’ve been told.” Hiccup.
Her stomach rose to her throat and her body lifted and dropped back down on the sofa.
Steven let out a low whistle. “You just levitated. Must be some glitch in the Fae glamour.”
“Is that it? Whenever I drink liquid it makes me hiccup.”
“Then be sure not to partake around humans. And don’t forget you’re only here temporarily,” Steven warned. “Take a few days, enthrall the shadow hunter and then warn him of the danger. If we’re lucky, he and the other hunters can take care of Hoklonote on their own, without our assistance. If that doesn’t work, then petition Chulah to form a mutually beneficial alliance with us to defeat our common enemy.”
“I know my duty,” she snapped, setting down the mug. April paced the room. It galled her that her own kind cared so little for Chulah or any other human. She didn’t want Chulah fighting Hoklonote without help from the Fae. It wasn’t right to ask him to fight their battles for them. The Fae saw Chulah and the other shadow hunters only as a means to an end. Whereas she...she wanted Chulah to see the real April Meadows. To come to care for her as she did for him.
But Steven couldn’t know that. No one could. It was her own secret wish.
A fairy could dream.
Steven arched a brow. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she lied. “Just restless. A little tired.”
“And starving, I bet. Have you eaten human food today?”
“No. I forgot.”
“I’ve made a pot of chili. Come downstairs and eat with me. You’ll feel lots better. While in human form, you need to consume what they call calories. It fuels your body, gives you energy.” He grinned. “Tastes surprisingly good, too.”
“If you say so. Let me wash up and I’ll be down in a minute.”
With a nod, he left. Finally, she was alone. April covered her face in her hands, felt Chulah’s lips and hands again on her body. She’d never experienced anything like that from the few Fae kisses she’d stolen from Fae lads while hidden among the lily pads or behind the wild azaleas.
Had it been the same for him? She hoped he found her as desirable as Tallulah. Guilt twisted her gut. When they’d been sitting close together on the sofa, she’d accidentally flung a little fairy pheromone his way.
Okay. So it wasn’t entirely accidental. She’d given Chulah the tiniest nudge for him to kiss her. But he’d wanted to, she could tell.
Never again, she vowed. It meant more if he kissed her without the influence of magic.
Curious as to how her human form appeared, April went to the bathroom and stared in the mirror. The Council had told her that this form would manifest her fairy nature, and she saw that truth in the mirror.
Dismay clouded her eyes. She looked nothing like his true love, Tallulah. The white of her skin was the pale of the white bearded iris she slept under. Her eyes were the bluish purple of the wild violets she nibbled on for nourishment, and her hair was moon-bathed in silver, as night was the time she loved to flit about. She slept during the day after a bath in the dew of the early morn. She was thin and lithe as the stalks of sea oats, and the pale purple streaks in her hair were the whisper of eggplant behind a cloud at sunset.
The Council had assured her the human form would be pleasing to the male human species. But April would have traded everything for Tallulah’s olive skin, black silky hair and muscular frame. She was like an Amazon warrior of old—the only female shadow hunter in the history of Bayou La Siryna.
No doubt the Council would laugh at her jealousy if they learned of it. “Use your enchantment,” they’d advise. “No man can resist your Fae charm while under your spell.” But April was determined to do this her own way—on her own terms.
She would succeed where her mother had failed.
Chulah removed his helmet and sat on his motorcycle, studying the tree line at the point where April had suddenly—mysteriously—appeared from the backwoods. It was possible that some trace, some clue could be tracked down. With luck, he’d follow the signs to the point of origin. At least it would reveal if April had lied about getting lost after a simple hike. One that she claimed to have begun near her apartment. Her story didn’t ring true, and even after riding for hours, there was something about her...something disturbing he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Compounding his unease was his lack of physical control at her apartment. It was as if she drew him to her magnetically, removing his normal reserve.
Chulah removed a flashlight from his saddlebag and stuffed it in his backpack, which he had weighted down with rocks. His eyes adjusted to the night’s dark veil, so he probably didn’t need the flashlight, but it never hurt to be prepared. The rocks were for any stray will-o’-the-wisps.
Strapping the backpack across his broad shoulders, he approached the woods. He’d first glimpsed April by the massive oak. The tree had a sharp bend in the trunk, courtesy of Hurricane Katrina years earlier.
The scent of violets and moss teased his nose, the same scent that April bore, one that niggled at his memory. Broken twigs and pine needles marked the ground and he followed the trail.
She’d stayed close to one of the many narrow footpaths that veined the forest and her direction had been true. Never once had she strayed down a different path, or circled back to the one that led to the road and his home. Interesting. You would think somebody new to the area, and supposedly lost, would have strayed at least once, taken a circuitous path or explored a way to exit the woods.
Deeper and deeper, Chulah journeyed to the dark, quiet interior of the bayou forest. Strange that April chose to walk a path so far removed from civilization. An uneasy prickle lifted the hairs on his arms. The scent of violets grew sharper and the trail abruptly ended at the base of an ancient cypress where a large patch of wild violets bloomed—totally out of season. They were spring flowers blossoming in the heart of autumn. Chulah turned from that mystery to another, more pressing question.
Where had April gone from here?
That same April who knew of the bayou’s secret, of its evil spirits, who knew things about him she had no logical way of knowing. Whose tracks stopped in the middle of the woods, in a spot that festered with some strange magick he’d never seen. Something was afoot, something he’d never encountered before in all his years of hunting shadows.
He didn’t believe in coincidence. This place and that woman were connected. Tomorrow he would visit April and demand an explanation. Had she kissed him to distract his attention from her loose tongue? If so, it wouldn’t happen again.
Eerie silence enveloped him like a wool blanket. That was what was different. Not what was there, but the absence of what should be there—no insect droning, no underbrush rattles from small animals, no hooting of owls or even the sound of the sea breeze in the treetops. Only silence.
Baffled, Chulah raised his arms, allowing his senses to become totally immersed in the night,
