Читать книгу Bayou Wolf - Debbie Herbert - Страница 8
ОглавлениеDark clouds grayed the sky, and thunder rumbled through the woods. Fat, splatting raindrops dripped from magnolias and pines.
Tallulah didn’t care. The increased gales cooled her hot skin and made her restless, hungry for action. Wisps would be out this evening—the storm energy called to their chaotic, wild nature. For the past week, they’d been more active. So had the Ishkitini, as they’d hooted and fluttered in the treetops, ever watchful, looking for an opportunity to swoop in and slash with their sharp talons.
It wasn’t her imagination. Her brother, Tombi, and the rest of the hunters felt it, too. They’d be joining her during the next full moon’s hunting. For now, they were busy with new lives, new loves. Tallulah tamped down the jealous twinges. She’d had a shot at domesticity last year when Chulah, a lifelong friend and hunter, had proposed marriage. She’d even had second thoughts about turning him down, but then he’d fallen for a fairy, and that was the end of that.
It was all for the best. No one could ever compare to Bo, and second best wasn’t fair to anyone.
Whoosh.
Tallulah ducked and loaded her slingshot in one swift movement—but not before a talon swiped the side of her neck. Ignoring the pain, she released the stone. It thudded against flesh, and a lump of brown-and-gray feathers hit the ground.
Excellent. But the damn owl had got in a lick. Tallulah carefully touched the scrape and then examined her fingers, sticky with blood. Not too bad. Might not even need stitches. She dug in her backpack and unwrapped an antiseptic wipe. The alcohol stung a bit as she placed it on the gash, but nothing like a future infection would hurt. Quickly, she bandaged the wound and continued into the woods.
Where the Ishkitini appeared, the will-o’-the-wisps were sure to follow. The night would not be wasted if she killed a wisp. Every defeat ensured a safer, more successful full-moon hunt. She attuned her senses to the night, amplifying sight, sound and smell, then inhaled the scents of wet leaves and damp soil, and even the coppery smell of her own blood, which left a metallic taste in her throat.
Branches scraped bark. Little critters—squirrels, rabbits, mice—scrambled about the carpet of pine needles and the prickly underbrush of saw palmettos and stunted shrubs. Tallulah’s vision adjusted to the gathering darkness, and she unerringly kept to the path leading to the center of the forest.
A teal glow burst through a gap in the oaks—a wisp. Her breath quickened. She needed to get a little closer. Soundlessly, she padded from tree to tree, pausing to hide her body while she edged nearer.
The glow dazzled her eyes. The wisp floated a mere ten feet away. She’d been spotted.
Tallulah loaded the slingshot.
It’s useless, the negative whisper echoed in her mind. She had come way too close to the wisp. Close enough that it could invade her thoughts, inducing despair and misery and hopelessness. The wisps thrived on human suffering. It made them stronger, more deadly.
Death is imminent. Don’t fight it.
No way. Tallulah’s arm drew back the slingshot band, ready to strike.
Join Bo.
Her lungs squeezed, and her throat painfully tightened, as if a boa constrictor were wrapped around her chest. Her breath grew harsh, and her biceps quivered and strained on the band.
You know you want to see him again. It would be so easy. Give in.
Bo. It dared mention his name. She stared at the center of the wisp, where the blue-green heart pulsed. Where the imprisoned spirit lived its miserable existence. Because that’s what wisps did. They killed humans and trapped their souls inside their parasitic bodies. That’s what they had done to Bo—until she had killed the wisp host and set Bo free.
Bo was dead, but at least he’d passed over into the After Life.
“You lie,” she growled harshly. She could never be with Bo again. Not in this life.
Hot, angry tears burned her eyes, but Tallulah got off her shot. Then another and another. Stones whizzed through the air at top speed.
The wisp collapsed upon itself, gray smoke from its dead form carried up to the skies by the storm’s wind. Tallulah swiped at her eyes, wanting to see the soul’s release. It was one of the few pleasures of being a shadow hunter.
From the dying, gray ash, the teal heart transformed to a small, pure white spirit, as tiny as the flick of a cigarette lighter. The trapped soul took wing, flying up to the After Life. Tallulah leaned against the nearest tree, watching. Praying. It was a sacred moment. A shame that April, the fairy, wasn’t here. April had the ability to communicate with and identify the released souls. Whoever this soul belonged to, Tallulah wished it Godspeed on its journey to reunite with ancestors and loved ones.
Before Tallulah could pack her slingshot away, a chilling cry rent the air—the unmistakable cry of an animal in the throes of death. Once heard, it was never forgotten. Tallulah shoved off the tree, instantly wary, and tried to pinpoint the location. Such was nature—one moment divine, the next moment a brutal kill.
The question in her mind wasn’t figuring out the kind of victim, but rather identifying the size and ferocity of the predator. Was she in danger?
Judging from the small size of the victim and the distance of the killing, probably not. She turned to go home. One Ishkitini, one wisp and one wound were enough for a day’s work. And what an aggravating day it had been, right from the beginning when she drove to work and witnessed the trees being destroyed.
Payton’s image flashed in her mind’s eye. The challenging spark in his smoky gray eyes, the power of his lithe body... Not that she was interested in someone employed in that despicable occupation. Besides, she wanted a man like Bo—kind and sensitive and understanding. Domineering men like Payton held no charm.
So why was she thinking of him? Impatiently, Tallulah wiped Payton’s image from her thoughts and quickened her step. If she hurried, she’d arrive at her cabin before the worst of the storm was unleashed.
The death cries continued. Nature was a cruel bitch, she mused. As quickly as they had begun, the pitiful squeals stopped—it was dead and done, and the knot in her shoulders relaxed. She might be used to the ways of the wild, but it didn’t mean her heart was immune to its violence.
A crack of thunder rumbled, and she upped her pace to a light jog. Her mind calmed and jumped ahead to trivial matters—what to fix for dinner and what TV show to watch afterward. Another exciting evening alone.
Tallulah rounded a bend in the trail, only to find the wolfish creature from the night before blocking her path, twenty feet ahead.
She stilled and drew a sharp breath. It came with no warning. Perhaps she wouldn’t have been caught unawares if she hadn’t let her attention drift. Focus. That was the number-one rule of the shadow hunter—a basic tenet to avoid spirits and predators before you became their next meal.
Blood dripped from the beast’s gaping mouth, and bits of rabbit carcass hung from its back molars. Mystery solved as to the screams—the thing should be sated. Its eyes focused on her neck, and she touched the crusty bandage. Could it smell her blood from that distance? Anger replaced fear in pounding waves of adrenaline. She was bigger and smarter than the animal, and she was a skilled hunter with a weapon. If anyone had the upper hand, it was her.
“You want a piece of this again?” She withdrew her slingshot from her backpack.
The animal growled, but hung its head in submission. The cagey fellow remembered that, all right.
“Go on—git!” she yelled, and the beast snarled, but turned and trotted off.
Were there others like him? Was she in the midst of its territory? Impulsively, Tallulah followed it from a respectful distance, using all her tracking skills to move as soundlessly as possible. It never even looked back.
Curiosity killed the cat, you know.
She ignored the internal warning voice. In her experience, knowledge was king. Twice in two days, this animal had confronted her, and she vowed to learn more about it. Kill or be killed. That was the lesson of the wild.
Close to the end of the trail, the animal veered off the path into a clearing, a wide-open area recently planted with cotton. The quarter moon easily highlighted its movement down rows of ankle-deep greenery, allowing her to watch from a greater distance. Across the field, bright lights shone through windows at Jeb’s old farmhouse. He’d vacated it last year and put it up for sale, preferring to live closer to town now that he was older and his sons had taken on most of the farming duties.
News to her that someone had bought the old place. It was large and old-fashioned, a wooden, three-story behemoth that over the decades had been a temporary home for many field hands. Nearly every house light blazed, and over a dozen cars and trucks were parked in the front yard.
The animal cut a direct path across the cotton field, straight to the back porch door. Was it a danger to anyone who might step outside for a smoke or a bit of fresh air? Tallulah jogged across the field, prepared to fight if needed, but the creature confidently climbed the back steps and nudged open the screen door with its broad snout.
Tallulah ran, blood pounding in her ears as loud as ocean waves crashing on shore. She’d never seen a wild animal so brazen, so indifferent to the danger posed by humans. At the edge of the property, she witnessed the animal squeeze into an extralarge doggie door and enter the farmhouse.
It was in the freaking house. She panted, hands on hips, trying to make sense of what she’d seen. The animal was not a dog. It more closely resembled a coyote. Actually...okay, she admitted to the fantastic notion, it appeared to be a wolf. It was much too large to be a coyote. Wolves weren’t supposed to be in south Alabama, but she’d seen many stranger things in the bayou woods.
Her ears tingled, waiting for the inevitable shrieks and commotion from inside the house, but silence reigned in the woods.
She’d heard wolves were cagey, but this was ridiculous. A wild animal in the house was bound to make noise, would elicit surprise from the residents. Obviously, people were home—unless they had gone out and left all the lights on.
Yes, that could explain it. Curiosity propelled her forward until she crept in the hedges against the farmhouse. A jumble of male voices sounded in a back room as she passed, and she raised up from her crouch by the open window. Just a quick second was all she needed, and she ducked back down in the hedge before she could be spotted.
The den was packed with over a dozen men. Some playing cards, some watching TV and a couple playing pool.
Not a wolf in sight. And no commotion among the men.
Tallulah tiptoed to the driveway, determined to learn as much as possible. Heat fanned across her face. Peeping into windows wasn’t exactly her normal modus operandi. It was necessary. The wolf is a danger, and my duty is to protect, she insisted to herself. Still, the curiosity remained, and she decided to see if she recognized any of the cars.
A hodgepodge of pickup trucks and beater cars were parked haphazardly in the front yard. Crouching, she went from vehicle to vehicle. All of them had Montana tags. Transient farm workers arrived from all over, but usually they were from nearby states, and quite a few came from elsewhere in Alabama.
Now what? Tallulah stood, debating her options. Perhaps a ruse could gain her entry. She’d knock at the door and claim to be looking for her lost dog. But that wouldn’t be too smart. She was no frail flower, but a single female approaching a group of strange men at night would be a dumb move. No, best to leave and gather more information later.
A screen door creaked open.
Holy crap. Tallulah dropped to the ground behind a truck, and her heart thudded against her chest as she listened intently. Footsteps plodded down the front porch steps. What if this was his truck and he wanted to drive? She furtively looked around, seeking other avenues of cover. Fingers crossed that the guy just came out for a bit of fresh air or to smoke a cigarette.
Tallulah wrapped her energy tightly around her body, somewhat cloaking her scent—just in case the wolf made an appearance. It was a form of protection for the shadow hunters in seeking and destroying their prey.
Gravel and weeds crunched underfoot. Damn it, the man was headed straight in her direction. Another couple of steps and she was toast.
* * *
Danger.
The smell of human was faint but totally out of place, and Payton’s wolf senses shifted to high alert. The scent teased his brain. He’d smelled it before—recently, too. Who the hell would be out in this remote area at this time of night? Someone up to no good.
No need to call the rest of the pack. Whoever the prowler was, he’d no doubt take off before backup arrived.
Payton unerringly followed his nose. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he geared up for a fight. Danger had seemingly followed them for hundreds of miles. His fingers twitched at his sides, and he flexed them into his palms, his nails digging into calloused flesh. If he needed to shift to wolf form, so be it.
The human smell emanated from behind Darryl’s pickup. The scent grew stronger—it was woodsy and green. His memory strained, almost grasping where he’d encountered it before. Another step closer, and Payton picked up the tart zing of citrus mixed with the other notes. Recognition slammed into his consciousness.
Well, I’ll be damned. He walked swiftly to the rear of the truck, where the human huddled into a ball on the ground. “What the hell are you doing on my property, Tallulah Silver?” he demanded.
Her head slowly rose, eyes flashing in surprise. She stood and brushed the front of her jeans. “You found me.” Her brow furrowed, as if she were puzzled. “How did you manage that?”
“Answer my question.” No need to try to be friendly or placate the woman now. “Were you perhaps putting sugar in the gas tanks? Nails in the tires?”
Her chin jutted forward. “Of course not. Why would I vandalize your property? I’m no criminal.”
“To run us off from our job.” Conservationists could be a passionate lot. Militant, even. And she’d been extremely confrontational this morning.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she countered. The arrogance in her manner had returned. “I was out for a walk and got spooked when you came outside. I’ll be on my way now.”
That woman, spooked? He snorted. “You’re lying.”
“Believe what you will.”
She turned away, and he grabbed the handle of the backpack slung across her shoulders. Damn, it looked heavy, as if it were loaded with rocks. “Not so fast. What you got in there?”
“None of your business.”
She tried jerking out of his grasp, but he held firm. “It is my business when you’re sneaking around on my land.”
“You got a property title? ’Cause I’m pretty sure this land belongs to Jeb. Not you.” A nasty smile curled her full lips.
She’d cunningly boomeranged his own words from their earlier encounter. “A technicality. We’re renting, which gives me a reason to legally be here. Now, why are you slinking around our home?”
“I told you already.” With surprising strength, she pulled away from his grasp. “If you want to call the cops or something, be my guest. I happen to know the sheriff.”
Terrific. She had connections with some Bubba local law enforcement dude. And trouble with the authorities was the last thing they needed. The locals here could call the cops in Montana, and information might get exchanged about a series of unsolved murders. He and his pack were innocent of wrongdoing, but it was as if a toxic miasma clouded their reputations.
“We can settle this between the two of us, no need for the police,” he replied. “For the last time, what are you doing here?”
“And if I don’t change my answer?”
Maddening. What a shrew. Her eyes flashed, and her chest rose and fell with her hot-tempered breathing. Ah, but she was sexy as all get-out. His gaze focused in on the cleavage exposed by her deep, V-cut shirt. A leather-fringed and beaded necklace, with some sort of woven charm, settled in the space between her rounded breasts. He couldn’t help it. Payton reached a hand out, as if his bones were made of steel and the necklace a magnet pulling him closer. He touched it, his fingers lightly brushing her skin.
Heat sparked his fingertips and spread throughout his body, and he dropped the necklace and stepped backward. For a brief instant, he caught a returning fire banked in Tallulah’s widened eyes—until animosity again took its place.
“What’s that on your necklace?” he asked, trying to break the tension.
“A miniature dream catcher I wove. And don’t you dare touch me again like that.”
Did he imagine it, or did her voice sound a tiny bit husky? His desire doubled, and an erection began to strain against his jeans. Here was an opportunity. He dared all right.
Payton stepped closer to her, their bodies inches apart. She didn’t retreat.
“You felt it, too, didn’t you? A spark between us when we touched?”
She skirted the question. “I loathe everything about the work you do.”
“But I’m not my job. I’m a man and I find you...very intriguing.”
“Don’t you mean maddening instead of intriguing?”
“Flip sides of the same coin. Can we call a truce?”
Tallulah crossed her arms. “I’m not one to back away from my principles, not for you, not for any man. Besides, there’s something strange going on around here.”
“Only strange thing from where I stand is that I found you slinking around in the dark with only a stupid story to explain your presence.”
“It’s not stupid. I often walk the woods in the evening,” she insisted.
“Ridiculous and unsafe. Perhaps I can coax the truth from you,” he said hoarsely. He bent his head, and she still didn’t budge.
A sure sign she felt the same chemistry as he did.
Because of the transient nature of his job, he didn’t allow himself to become too emotionally invested in any woman. But physically...that was another matter. What would this woman be like as a lover? Passionate, no doubt. If he could put up with her saucy tongue.
His mouth found hers.
Despite his calculated move, doubt assailed him. What the hell was he doing?
She pressed her full lips against his and groaned softly. The sound undid him—it had been too long since he’d been with a woman. He placed his hands on the sides of her waist and drew her even closer. Damn, she felt good. No, not good...great. Fantastic. They’d be perfect in bed together.
“Stop.” Tallulah stepped out of his arms.
Payton blinked at the unexpected emptiness and his hands fell to his sides. Even for him, he’d assumed too much, too quickly. He’d been carried away with passion from a mere kiss. What was the matter with him? “Sorry. Too much, too fast?”
She regarded him for several heartbeats. “You don’t know me. You don’t even like me.”
No denying that. He gave her a lopsided smile. “You’re growing on me.”
Her mouth trembled, as if she were about to smile, but she pressed her lips into a frown. “I have my own doubts about you, too. Am I crazy, or did a wolf enter your farmhouse about ten minutes ago?”
Chills doused the fever her body had created, and he became aware of the rain running in rivulets down his arms and face. Tallulah’s words plunged him back into reality. Apprehension replaced desire in a heartbeat.
“A wolf?” he repeated stupidly, buying time. “Not supposed to be any wolves in this part of the country.”
She crossed her arms. “Exactly. That’s what I thought. But I know what I saw.”
So someone had slipped out into the woods and shifted. A violation of the new pack rules. As a precaution, Matt had ordered that they only shift in pairs. That way, if one of them developed the lycanthropic fever, it would be impossible to hide the symptoms of their bloodlust from each other while in wolf form. Yet someone had violated the alpha’s edict. Why?
“You thought wrong,” he stated flatly, trying to create doubt and throw her off. “A wild animal wouldn’t let you get that close. It’d smell you a mile off.”
How had she managed to see this? Now that he thought of it, her human smell had been faint when he stepped outside. It should have been much stronger. Tallulah held his gaze, unflinching and challenging. He rubbed his chin, studying her exotic beauty. She was a mystery, a most unusual female. “I’ve never met a woman quite like you.”
“No,” she quickly agreed. “You have not. Now about that wolf—”
“There is no wolf.”
“Was.”
“Wasn’t.”
The rain picked up, and leaves rustled in the heightened wind. They stared at each other, bristling like wary dogs.
“We appear to have reached an impasse,” he said at last. Apparently, there was no changing her mind with mere words.
Tallulah held up a hand and stared up at the rain. “For now. I’ll be on my way.”
He couldn’t let her escape so quickly. Know your enemy. He had to win her trust, find out more about her. Ensure her silence if needed. “Wait. We started off on the wrong foot. It’s ugly out here, let me make it up to you by giving you a lift home.”
Tallulah hesitated. Was his presence so distasteful now that she’d rather wander home—alone at night—in the rain? “C’mon,” he said cajolingly. “Don’t be stupid.”
Her chin jutted forward in a now-familiar gesture, and she opened her mouth—no doubt the precursor to some sharp retort. Calling her stupid was no way to win her over. Time for damage control. Payton flashed his most charming smile. “What kind of gentleman would let a lady walk home at night in a storm?”
“How about the same gentleman who called a lady stupid?”
He bowed gallantly. “My bad. Please let me drive you home, or I’ll worry about you all night.”
“Yeah, right,” she said with a snort. “You’re not exactly my idea of a knight in shining armor.”
He kept his smile in place, although it took great effort. “I have a feeling your standards run extremely high. Besides, no one could mistake you for a damsel in distress.”
“Damn right. I can take care of myself.”
With that, she turned on her heel and started down the gravel driveway, her back ramrod straight. Same posture as that morning when she’d left the work site in a huff. The rain picked up, saturating her hair and clothes, making her appear sleek and even more sexy. Tallulah didn’t even hurry her pace. A woman used to the elements, impervious to nature’s nuances.
It appealed to his inner, primal wolf. That hidden part of himself that was also at one with the night and the land. His pulse raced as he imagined the two of them in some hidden forest glade, naked and wet, making love under a full moon as rain caressed their bodies.
He blinked, coming out of his hormonal trance. Damn, if she didn’t do the weirdest things to his mind. Tallulah was already at the end of the drive and stepping out onto the road. Payton ran a hand through his soaked hair and dug the truck keys out of his pocket. Quickly, he jumped in the truck, cranked up the engine and eased out of the tangle of vehicles.
Tallulah never even turned around as he pulled up beside her on the road. He unrolled the passenger side window.
“Get in,” he barked.
She kept her face forward, her angular profile set in stone. “No, thank you.”
Son of a bitch. Payton shifted to Park, scrambled from the truck and marched in front of Tallulah, blocking her direct path. Just as she had blocked him this morning on the skidder. “C’mon, Tallulah. This is ridiculous.”
It wasn’t just a matter of getting wet. It was dark, and a member of the pack had violated house rules by roaming in wolf form, so who knew if others were doing the same, and damn it, he couldn’t stand seeing a woman walk the streets alone at night. Even one as strong and stubborn as Tallulah.
A sudden thought floored him. “You aren’t afraid of getting in the truck with me, are you?”
“’Course not.” Her chin lifted.
Payton hid his smile and opened the passenger door. “Well then,” he said, gesturing her to enter. If he guessed correctly, she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.
“I guess I could use a lift,” she said ungraciously, her mouth twisting. “If you’re sure.”
Tallulah climbed in the old Chevy and he shut the door, hurrying to the driver’s side and getting out of the pouring rain.
She sat as far from him as possible, her body jammed against the door. “Does the entire timber crew live out here?” she asked with a nod toward the farmhouse.
Payton shot her a sideways glance as he shifted into Drive and pulled away. Evidently, he wasn’t the only one fishing for more information. “We do. It’s more convenient that way. What about you? Do you live alone?”
“Yes.”
“No, Mister Silver?” he asked.
“Only my twin brother. No husband and no father.” She faced him, direct as usual. “You married?”
“Nope.” He could be as circumspect as she could.
They came to a stop sign. “Right or left?” he asked. “I need directions.”
“Take a right. I live about seven miles down this road.”
“Pretty long walk you took tonight,” he observed. And she was willing to walk that distance alone in the rain? Just to spite him?
“I’m in excellent health,” she said icily.
He surreptitiously glanced at the shirt clinging to her full breasts, the toned biceps of her arms, her long, lean legs. What he wouldn’t give to see her without clothing, to explore every inch of her fit, golden body. Something about her drove him wild, made him as sex-obsessed as a teenager hyped up on testosterone.
The windshield wipers beat out a steady rhythm, emphasizing the charged silence between them. Tallulah didn’t speak again for several minutes, and when she did, it was a curt instruction. “This is it. Slow down and turn on the next dirt road to your right.”
The unpaved road twisted and curved for at least a quarter mile. A wooden cabin appeared, surrounded by magnolias and oaks. Small, but not too rustic.
“Nice place.”
Her mouth curved into a genuine smile, the first one he’d seen. It transformed her into a radiant beauty. “Thanks. Tombi, my brother, built it. He’s a carpenter.”
One of her hands was already on the handle. She was ready to jump out and slip away into the dark night.
“Can I see you sometime?” he asked quickly, before Tallulah could make her escape. For all her bravery, she was on the skittish side. Somehow, he needed to earn her trust, discover if she harbored secrets, as he did.
She gave him a considering look. “It’s a small town. We can’t help but run in to each other again.”
Ruefully, he watched as she slammed the door shut, strode purposefully to the cabin and never once looked back. So much for making headway by acting charming and gallant. At least he knew where she lived, and that was a start.
Payton turned the truck around and went back down the driveway. You betcha I’ll run in to you, Miss Tallulah Silver. We have unfinished business.
