Bayou Shadow Hunter - Debbie Herbert Mills & Boon Nocturne

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the terror by night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day, nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness, nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.”

      Heat singed upward from below where her grandmother knelt beside Tombi’s body that was sprawled on the hard ground. The sweltering air battered Annie’s temples with headache. The wormwood’s bitter, camphoraceous scent deepened, and her fingers tingled with numbness—some toxic effect of the herb intensified by the spell. A golden light flowed between Tombi’s chest and her grandma’s hand.

      Annie stopped her recitation, mesmerized by the etheric glow.

      Tia cast her a sharp glance. “Don’t stop.”

      She cleared her throat and continued circling. “No evil shall befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling. For he shall give his angels care. They shalt tread upon the lion and adder.”

      The swelling and redness of his skin decreased. Tombi stirred and wet his lips. A low moan escaped.

      “It’s working,” Annie exclaimed, wanting to tap-dance around the sacred circle. The golden, healing energy had wrought a remarkable change. There was still some swelling, but the angry red streaks of infection had disappeared. “You did it, Grandma—” She stopped abruptly.

      Tia’s olive skin had grayed and wrinkled even more, to the point it resembled elephant skin. Her eyes held an unhealthy glaze, as if she were burning with a fever.

      Annie sank on her knees and hugged her grandma. “Don’t leave me,” she begged. “Tell me how to help you.”

      A laugh so faint that even she couldn’t hear it—it could only be felt from the rumbling of Tia’s chest and throat. “It’s all in the good Lord’s hands now, child.”

      Annie burrowed her head in her grandma’s gray hair with its witchy, herbal smell. The smell of home and safety and love. Her grounding force in this world.

      “I’m going to get help,” she promised, mind whirling with the action she needed to take: get up, run to the cottage, find her cell phone and car keys. Call the ambulance, drive through the field, manage to get these two in the car and drive them to the cottage for the ambulance to transport them to the hospital.

      Once at the hospital, the doctors would demand to know what happened...

      “Hey,” Tombi asked with a note of hoarse puzzlement. “What’s going on here?”

      A frisson of resentment washed over Annie. This had been his fight. Not hers. And certainly not her grandma’s. If she’d never met him, her grandma wouldn’t be hovering at death’s portal for the afterlife.

      She’d sacrificed her own safety and, worse, her grandma’s health. All for a promise. One that Tombi didn’t seem in any hurry to fill.

      “My grandma absorbed the poison meant for you,” she said, hot tears scalding her cheeks. “I wish I’d never met you.”

       Chapter 4

      Tia’s deep olive flesh turned ashy. The glaze of her eyes and burn of her skin indicated a dangerously high fever, as if a volcano had exploded inside her body.

      How much longer for that ambulance? Seemed as if it had taken hours to get her grandma back to the cottage and make the call for help. Annie held Tia’s hand and stroked her hot forehead. “Isn’t there some kind of special tea or gris-gris bag I can get for you?”

      “Fetch my crystal from the altar and light a candle.” Tia’s voice was weak and hoarse. She swallowed hard. “And say a quick prayer while you’re at it.”

      Annie scurried to do her bidding, glad to take action. Seeing someone in pain, especially the rock of her universe, was to suffer alongside them.

      Don’t die. Sure, she’d known Tia’s heart was winding down, but Annie had expected weeks, if not months, to share with her grandmother. Time to soak in her care and wisdom. Time also to be trained in root working and to, hopefully, cajole a reverse spell to banish the musical auras that assaulted her mind.

      At the altar, Annie grasped the large chunk of polished carnelian that, despite its vivid orange-red color, was cooling and soothing to the touch. With shaking hands, Annie struck a match. It hissed loudly in the quiet and emitted a whisper of sulfur. She applied the flame to the white columnar candle that smelled strongly of patchouli and cloves. Beside the candle was a framed print of a stern angel with spread wings.

      Annie collected her panicked thoughts and prayed. “Dear God...universe...angels...help my grandma,” she whispered in a rush. “She’s done nothing but help people all her life, and now she needs you. The time isn’t right. I’m not ready.” Annie drew a deep breath, ashamed she’d wandered into selfish territory. A groan from the next room, and she drew the prayer to a quick close. “Please and amen.”

      She hurried to the den, where Tombi leaned over the sofa toward Tia, as if drawing closer to hear her speak. Or check her breath for life.

      A jab of fear wrung her gut. “Is she...?”

      “She’s alive,” he said with grim authority. “But her pulse grows faint.”

      A siren sounded from far away.

      Tombi straightened. “I’ll wait out front for the ambulance. Make sure they don’t have trouble finding this place.” He brushed past, and Annie lifted her chin, turning her body to the side to avoid accidental contact. It might be unfair to blame him for Tia’s condition, but she couldn’t help resenting him, nonetheless.

      Tombi raised a brow but said nothing.

      The door shut behind him, and Annie let out a deep breath, resuming her place by Tia’s side. She slipped the carnelian crystal into her grandma’s weathered palm, and Tia curled her fingers over the rock.

      “Does this help you?” Annie asked, hoping it eased the pain.

      Tia nodded. “Helps me focus. To say what needs sayin’.”

      Her grandma took a long, raspy breath, and Annie winced at the rattle that sounded like oxygen was leaking and gurgling from her lungs. She eased down and sat beside Tia’s sprawled body. “Take your time. I lit the candle and said a prayer like you asked.”

      “Ain’t much time left.”

      “Don’t say that,” Annie scolded. “You’re going to be fine.”

      “Listen.” Tia struggled to rise on an elbow, but gave up and sank back into the cushions. “I know I been a disappointment to you this visit.”

      Annie started to deny it, but Tia cut her off.

      “We ain’t got time for nothin’ but the truth between us. And the truth is, you need to help Tombi. He needs you. He needs your gift.”

      But what about me? It’s not what I want.

      Tia frowned, eyes sparking with reprimand.

      No doubt she’d heard the selfish, unspoken thought. Guilt and shame washed over Annie in a heated flood of remorse.

      “You listen here, Annie girl. You help that man. Now. Tonight.”

      Annie shook her head again. “No way. I’m staying with you.”

      “I’m goin’ somewhere you cain’t follow.”

      “You aren’t going to die,” Annie insisted.

      “I mean it, missy. You go with Tombi. Promise me.”

      Her tone was fierce, insistent—one that Annie remembered as a child. A you-better-mind-me-this-is-your-last-warning kind of voice. The siren’s wail grew distinct and piercing.

      Annie crossed two fingers behind her back. “Okay.”

      Tia tugged Annie’s right hand around

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