Название: Bayou Shadow Hunter
Автор: Debbie Herbert
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Nocturne
isbn: 9781474046299
isbn:
She swatted at a mosquito nipping her arm. Hmm. Could snakes climb trees? A glance upward revealed that seeking higher ground was a non-option. The nearest limb was several feet above her standing height. When she recouped her strength, perhaps she should search for a stone or stick just in case...
“Help me!”
The deep baritone voice rumbled along her spine.
Annie scrambled to her feet and searched the shadows. “Who’s there?”
Silence. Okay, she was going to be that person in the headline news who was lost in the woods and found days later, a nutcase raving about swamp monsters and Big Foot and saying she’d been carted away by aliens on their UFO.
Nothing’s out there.
“Please.”
The anguish in that word was too tortured not to be real. Annie shivered despite the heat and sweat coating her body. Ignoring someone else’s pain went against all her healing instincts. “Where are you? Who are you?”
An orb manifested not ten feet from where she stood. No warning, no gathering of light, no sound. One second before loomed a dark void, and in a clock’s single tick, the orb absorbed the space.
The blue-green light swirled and pulsed like a breathing, living thing. The same orb she’d seen first from her bedroom window.
So the question was no longer where or who but “What are you?” she whispered.
“The shadows trapped me.”
The voice rumbled in her gut, vibrating in her being. “You’re...trapped in the light?” she asked haltingly.
“My heart beats within. Look.”
At the core of the blue light shone a concentrated mass of teal that swelled and contracted. In, out, in, out, pulsing with the cosmic rhythm of life.
A heart.
Not the flowers-and-lace, cupid sort drawn by five-year-olds, but the it’s-alive-and-it’s-real-and-it-beats kind. Annie’s breath hitched, and she took an unsteady step backward. She couldn’t stop staring at the fist-sized gelatinous mass of muscle that pumped and wobbled.
“I need out,” the low-timbered voice pleaded. “Help me get out.”
She shook her head violently, her own heart pounding a song of fear. “I don’t know how.” And even if she did, no way was she freeing...whatever it was. Not until she knew its true nature.
“My name is Bo,” it said. “Find Tombi and tell him I live. He’s in grave danger. Trust no one within the circle. I was betrayed. And if he was ever my true friend, he needs to find that betrayer. I can’t be released until then.”
“I don’t know this Tombi person,” she protested.
“He’s coming now. Tell him to beware.”
Annie swung her head in all directions but saw and sensed nothing in the shadows. “Why don’t you tell him yourself?”
“He can’t hear me, witch. No one ever has but you.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “That’s why you brought me here.” It...Bo...either knew her grandma or of her reputation. “I think you want my grandmother, not me. I’m only here on a visit and—”
“Warn him.”
The light shifted, swirling in individuated sparkles and growing smaller, denser.
“Wait,” she called out sharply. “Where are you going?”
But it had vanished.
A man slipped into her presence, silent as a windless sky. He leaned against a cypress, arms folded, face and body as unyielding and hard as the ancient tree. Eyes and hair were black as the night, and the only lightness on his figure was a golden sheen on his face and arms.
Friend or foe?
Silence blanketed her mind. A condition she normally welcomed, but not now. Where was her accursed ability when she needed it? Not the slightest syllable of sound surrounded the man.
“Who are you?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t portray fear.
He stepped closer, and she willed her feet to remain rooted to the ground, to cloak the fear.
“Who are you?” His voice was deep, sharp-edged with suspicion.
She’d been wrong. The golden sheen of his skin wasn’t the only thing that stood out in the darkness. The man’s eyes radiated a copper glint like an encapsulated sun with rays. His teeth were white and sharp.
He didn’t wait for an answer. “Who were you talking to? There’s no one else out here but us.”
“I was talking to myself,” she lied. No sense exposing herself to ridicule.
“Roaming the woods alone at night and talking to yourself?” He scowled. “You must be crazy.”
Despite the scowl and rough tone, the icy touch of fear at the base of her spine thawed a bit. This stranger could think what he wanted about her mental health and lecture her ad nauseam about the idiotic decision to follow the wisp. At least he wasn’t attacking her. If he meant harm, he could have lunged forward and grabbed her by now.
“Yes.” Annie agreed. “I’m totally off my rocker.” Wouldn’t be the first time someone thought that. “How about being a good Boy Scout and help me find my way home?”
“First, tell me your name and why you’re out here.”
“Fine. My name’s Annie Matthews, and I saw a strange light from my bedroom window. Like an idiot, I decided to check it out. Now, can you please get me out of here?”
He stared, those strange copper rays in his irises warming her insides. Abruptly, he turned his back and stepped away.
What a jerk. Annie’s lips tightened to a pinched line. “Hey—wait a minute. Are you going to help me or not?”
The man didn’t even look back but motioned with an arm for her to follow.
She let out a huge sigh. Jerk or not, her best bet was to follow him out of the swamp. Annie stumbled after him and onto the barest sliver of a trail. The narrow footpath was canopied by pines and oaks, obscuring the full-moon light. Her toe caught under a tree root, and she pitched forward, free-falling. She braced herself for the impact of packed dirt to face.
Strong arms grabbed the sides of her waist, and her chest bumped solid flesh. Annie raised her chin and stared deeply into the brown eyes. “Th-thank you,” she whispered. His hands above her hips held fast, steadying her—burning her. Annie’s hands rested lightly on his chest, and she couldn’t move or speak.
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