Bayou Shadow Hunter. Debbie Herbert

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.

      Tombi abruptly halted and frowned her way. “You care so much what others think?”

      “Of course I care.” She thought of all the times people had skirted around her in school hallways or outright laughed in her face. She’d watched from the sidelines in the purgatory that was high school, unsure which she craved more—the huddling conspiracy of a group of girlfriends to share secrets and fun times with, or some cute guy to take her to dinner and a movie and whisper sweet seductions in the back of a car. “Everyone cares.”

      He shrugged. “Not me.”

      Easy for him to say—with his looks he probably had any woman he wanted. And he had a tribe of like-minded friends and family. Why should he give any thought to what was so easily granted to him?

      Annie reluctantly walked beside him, trying to emulate his mask of calm. They came to a halt six feet in front of the group.

      “This is Annie Matthews.” Tombi gestured to the left with his hand. “This is Tallulah, Hanan and Chula.”

      The silence roared in her, air compressing and as stifling as a sealed coffin. They formed a firewall of mistrust and resentment, shutting her out of their circle. Annie sucked in her breath at the glittering hostility in Tallulah’s obsidian eyes. Nearly as tall as her brother, she bore the same long face, chiseled features and strong chin. It shouldn’t have worked for a female, and while she wasn’t beautiful in a Miss America or girl-next-door kind of way, Tallulah was striking and commanded attention. Annie barely took in the stoic features of the other three men.

      Tallulah put her hands on her hips. “Well?”

      “W-well what?” Annie stammered. She glanced at Tombi in a silent plea for help.

      “Go ahead,” Tallulah challenged. “I dare you to point a finger at any one of us. You don’t know—”

      “Enough,” Tombi cut in.

      The man next to her—Chula—lightly touched Tallulah’s forearm, and a whisper as tender as a lullaby brushed over Annie at the gesture.

      “We already debated this last night and agreed to meet Annie. Let’s get this over with.” Hanan pinned Annie with a hard stare, and the whisper of sound vanished. “The sooner, the better.”

      Annie swallowed hard at their collective stare. Talk about being on the spot.

      “It’s not that easy. I have to be around you for a bit.” She cast another look at Tombi. “Can we all sit together by the fire?”

      Tombi nodded, and she followed him to the middle of the pitched tents, the others following in silence behind them.

      In the center was a stack of firewood coated in ash. Colorful wool blankets were spread in a circle around the campfire. They each went to a blanket and sat, except Tombi. “You can have my blanket,” he said, pointing to one. “I’ll stand.”

      She sank down and crossed her feet beneath her. Annie tried to relax and open her senses, but it was difficult as the others stared at her expectantly. As if she was some kind of circus performer. She closed her eyes, more to shut out their stares than out of necessity.

      The unnatural quiet unnerved her. How did they do it? They each had some type of guard up, some way of blocking their music.