fully opened her senses, straining to catch the pure music she’d heard on the porch steps.
Cascading trills floated through the swamp. The same pure melody that had captured her attention from the cottage. “Here I go again,” she said with a sigh, carefully making her way along a thin trail almost eclipsed by dense shrubs on either side. But daylight, and Grandma Tia’s urging to follow the music, gave her a measure of confidence.
The notes grew louder, more fluid and enchanting. Annie rounded a bend and recognized the water bank where she’d drifted last evening.
A man sat on a fallen tree limb, playing some sort of reed instrument. Although his naked, broad back faced her, Annie sensed it was Tombi. She wasn’t Tia Henrietta’s granddaughter for nothing.
Staring at his sleek, muscled torso made her throat and mouth dry. She licked her lips and swallowed hard. She’d bet her grandma’s pantry full of hoodoo charms that Tombi had women follow him everywhere. The Pied Piper of Bayou La Siryna.
The music stopped. In one fluid motion, like a dance of danger, Tombi jumped to his feet and whirled around, a dagger gleaming in his right fist. The wooden instrument he played dangled loosely in his left hand. Warrior and musician melded into one. His face was taut, and his eyes instantly fixed on her.
Whoa. Annie threw up her hands and took an involuntary step backward. For all she knew, Tombi might have deliberately summoned her with the music, luring her to him against her better judgment. She’d done the same thing following the will-o’-the-wisps last night.
Tombi slowly lowered the dagger and secured it in the leather sheath belted at his waist, never breaking his gaze. “You came back,” he said in a flat tone.
He didn’t act like a man hoping to see her, as Grandma Tia had claimed.
“I had to. You never told me your story.” Annie walked forward and nodded at the dagger. “You always this uptight?”
“These woods are full of danger.”
“Really? Because even my grandma thinks it’s perfectly safe out here during the day.”
He frowned and crossed his arms. “It used to be.”
A series of scars tattooed the smooth, muscular plane of his chest and shoulders, distracting her from his unsettling response. “Have you been in knife fights?” she blurted.
Tombi grabbed the T-shirt on the log and swiftly pulled it on.
“I’m sorry.” Annie was horrified at her rudeness. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I’m not ashamed of them,” he said gruffly. He nodded at the log. “Sit.”
Her embarrassment faded. “I don’t take commands like a dog,” she said, lifting her chin.
A ghost of a smile flitted the corners of his lips, so fleeting she might have dreamed it had been there. He bowed his head a fraction before he sat down, but didn’t apologize.
Annie gestured to the surrounding trees. “So, what’s the danger? Are the wisps malicious or something? I mean, your friend sounded sad and desperate to me—not evil.”
“In real life, Bo was all that was true and good.”
“And now?” she prompted.
“Remains to be seen.” He studied her, eyes narrowed and unflinching.
Annie smoothed the tumble of curls away from her face. “What do you mean?”
“It’s hard to tell good from evil sometimes.”
“Do you see everything so black-and-white? Surely there’s a dozen shades of gray in between.”
“No.” His jaw muscles clenched. “You’re either with me or you are with Nalusa.”
“Nah-loosa?” she asked, testing the unfamiliar word.
“Nalusa Falaya—it means ‘long black being’ in Choctaw. He’s a spirit that resembles a man, but he can shape-shift into different forms.”
Annie drew a circle in the dirt with the toe of her sneaker. Root working—the conjure magick of her grandma—was one thing...but this? It sounded like an old Native American tale invented to keep children close to camp and away from the dark unknown.
“You don’t believe me.” Tombi picked up a large stick on the ground by their feet and flung it violently. It hit a tall oak and splintered with a crack as loud as gunfire.
Annie sidled away from the heat of his anger, not wanting to be singed by his sudden wrath. “I really should head back home,” she offered in a small voice.
“It’s real,” Tombi said harshly. “Nalusa exists. And he can change into snake form. And I believe that wasn’t any ordinary snake that killed Bo. It was Nalusa.”
“So, now you’re out here trying to hunt this Nalusa down. For revenge.” She backed away slowly, not wanting to set him off again. “Got it.”
Tombi also stood. “Not just me. There’s a whole tribe of us.”
More people who shared his delusion? She glanced around uneasily, hoping she wasn’t about to be ambushed by a group of demented, make-believe warriors.
“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. C’mon, you saw the will-o’-the-wisps last night with your own eyes. Remember?”
Annie rubbed her arms. He certainly had her there. “Okay,” she reluctantly conceded. “I admit there are things I know nothing of. I’d rather keep it that way, too.”
His brow furrowed. “Whether you ignore Nalusa or not, he still exists.”
“Yeah, well, I’d rather not make his acquaintance. I have enough problems as it is.”
Alarm flickered in his dark eyes. “But Bo spoke to you. You have to help us.”
Annie shrugged and took a step backward. The last thing she needed was to get caught up in his personal crusade for revenge. “Come, see my grandma one day. She’ll do a protection spell if you like.” She plastered on a smile and waved. “Nice seeing you. Thanks again for helping me find my way home last night.”
Two steps and her shoulders tensed at the heavy pressure of his palms bearing down, barring an easy exit. Damn. He wasn’t going to make retreat easy. Tombi guided her back around to face him.
“We need you, Annie.” He swallowed. “Please.”
She could tell the plea wasn’t easy for Tombi. Pride and dignity announced their presence in the strong jaw and stiff posture.
“But I doubt I’ll ever hear Bo again,” she protested. “I have no plans to be lured back into the woods by the wisps.”
“The wisps are controlled by Nalusa. But as long as you’re with me, I’ll protect you. I promise.”
His words were deep and solemn. No doubt he would do his best to protect those on his side.
