Читать книгу Bayou Shadow Hunter - Debbie Herbert - Страница 11

Chapter 5

Annie shivered, breaking the tension. “That owl sounds creepy.”

“Ishkitini,” Tombi grumbled. No good ever came of the horned owl’s cry. It often foretold death. But no sense troubling Annie with that information. She’d assume it was an omen about her grandmother, and then she’d never agree to go with him. Plus, he had to admit, he didn’t want to upset Annie.

“A dangerous night to be alone. You’d be safer on the hunt with me,” he said.

Her eyes shifted to the woods and back to him.

She was weakening.

“Besides, you shouldn’t be here alone tonight worrying about your grandmother. Go on the hunt with us. It will take your mind off your problems.”

“Why should I go? It’s obvious your friends don’t want me around. At least at home, I won’t be insulted.”

Damn Tallulah and the others for their hostility. It had been a mistake to tell them he’d brought Annie to possibly find a traitor. Nobody appreciated a messenger with bad news. “You’ll be by my side during the hunt,” Tombi promised. “The others follow their own path in the night darkness.”

She glanced over to the woods again. “I have to admit I’m curious about your hunt.” Her eyes met his. “Does what you do involve anything gruesome? You know, like, bloody stuff?”

“Not usually.”

“Good.” She pinned him with a hard look. “And in return for going tonight, you’ll teach me how to control my hearing?”

“For one night’s work?” The words tumbled out, unfiltered. Oh, hell. By the look on her face, he’d lost any chance of getting her cooperation.

Annie marched back into the cottage, slamming the door shut.

He opened it and followed her inside. At least she hadn’t locked him out. “How about this? Spend time with us, and let me know if you have suspicions about anyone. In return, I’ll teach you what I can.”

Anger twisted her delicate features. “Teach me? I didn’t think I’d need lessons.”

“How else did you expect to learn to control your gift?”

“I thought... I thought...” She sputtered to a stop.

“I never said it would be easy.”

“You never said it would be hard, either.” She rubbed her temples. “Just how long will these lessons take?”

“Hard to say.” He folded his arms and considered. “Could take weeks, could take months. That is, if you can follow my teachings. Not everyone can control their energy.”

Annie sat on the sofa and took a deep breath. “Okay, there are a couple of things troubling me about what you just said.” She held up an index finger. “One, your people can guard against leaking their energy, making it difficult for me to hear their auras. So I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to pinpoint this person.”

She held up a second finger, but Tombi interrupted, “Let me take your objections one at a time.” He sat across from Annie, their knees almost touching. Warmth radiated from her slight body, and he clamped down the passion she aroused as he cleared his throat. “After a night chasing shadows, we gather back at the campsite and fill each other in on the night’s events. We’ll eat a light meal and then go to our tents and sleep until the heat of the day drives us out. Usually about noon.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with—”

“I’m getting to that,” Tombi promised. “Stay alert while they sleep and walk around the camp. See if you hear anything suspicious then.”

Her brow creased and then cleared. She nodded. “They must let down their guard during sleep.”

“Exactly. Now what’s your next objection?”

“You said you would teach me what you could. What the hell does that mean exactly? First you claimed you could cure me of this gift. Now it sounds like you’re waffling.”

“No waffling.”

“Then are you saying I’m unteachable? I can assure you, that’s not true. Not at all. There’s nothing wrong with my intelligence.”

Tombi raised a brow and regarded her silently.

She had the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry. Touchy point with me. I was teased unmercifully in grade school because I had to be taught in a separate room one-on-one with a teacher’s aide. The music from all the other students made it impossible for me to concentrate in a regular classroom.” She took a shuddering breath. “They used to call me Crazy Annie.”

That must have been tough for a sensitive girl. “Kids can be cruel. I promise I wasn’t making a comment on your intelligence. What I meant was that I’ll show you how I block my energy. It’s a skill my parents taught me, so it stands to reason that, with the right training, you can do the same.”

A wistful sadness shadowed her eyes.

“You don’t think you can do it?” he asked gently.

She bit her lip. “Oh, it’s silly. But what I was really hoping is that you’d arrange for a shaman to remove it. You know, something quick and easy.”

He fixed her with a hard stare.

Annie flushed. “I know. That’s awful of me. I just want to get on with my life.”

“Meaning what? What would you do without your special hearing ability that you can’t do now?” Annie was hard to understand. He could control his senses to some degree, yet it didn’t change who he was, or his purpose in life.

She threw up her hands. “You can’t laugh.”

At his steady wait, Annie admitted, “I want to be a librarian.”

“Then do it.” He shrugged. “Now. No one’s stopping you.”

“Even in a library, the noise gets to be too much after a while. There’s more peace and quiet there than any other public place, but it still grates. I can’t see me working as a librarian forty hours a week.”

Annie stood and walked around the small den, picking up stray items and straightening stacks of books and magazines. “And it’s more than wanting to work a full-time job. I’d like to have friends, a family, a social life.”

“The music is that disruptive for you?” It might be hell for Annie, but this extraordinary ability could only be good for his hunters. And he would try to help her control her gift.

Eventually.

Once he’d gotten all he could from her. Duty first, always.

For the first time in days, a surge of hope fueled a fire within him. “Then what do you have to lose by helping me?” he asked. “I’ll make sure no harm comes to you.”

She carefully placed a book back down on a coffee table. “I really, really, really hate snakes,” she said, dead serious. “So you’d better protect me like you promised.”

“I will,” he vowed. “With my life.” This he could say with no guilt or deception.

Annie picked up a picture of her grandma and bent her head over it. Her long, wavy hair covered her face, but her shoulders shook, and he knew she wept. Surprisingly, it made him long to put his arms around her and kiss away her tears. He hardened his heart—this wouldn’t do at all.