Harlequin Nocturne March 2016 Box Set

by Megan Hart

  “Aholabi! Liar!” he shouted, brushing past Annie’s outstretched hand.

  His sister jumped up and swung to face him, freezing like a cornered deer ready to take flight.

  “It was you all along.” He lobbed his words like darts. “Na haksichi. Betrayer. Why?”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she gripped the flute tightly in her fist, holding it out with a defiant lift of her chin. “You would never understand.”

  “Tell me.” He stopped before her, hands fisted at his sides. If this were anyone but his sister, he’d pummel the truth out of the man.

  “I did it for Bo.” Her voice was like torn strips of paper shredded from her soul.

  “Bo?” Dread was a boulder weighting his feet to the earth, anchoring an urge to walk away from Tallulah’s confession. He’d lost his parents and discovered his sister was a traitor. Was it too much to ask that the memory of his best friend be preserved? “Bo has nothing to do with this,” he ground out.

  “He has everything to do with this.” She nodded at the flute. “This can bring him back to me.”

  “Where the hell did you get a crazy idea like that? You’ve no idea what you’ve done.”

  Annie stepped between them and cast worried glances around the woods. “Aren’t you worried Nalusa is here? Tallulah’s been playing it for at least a few minutes.”

  “Let him come. If he’s hiding behind a tree, it’s because he’s vulnerable.” Tombi raised his voice. “Come out, you coward. I’ll take you on right now.”

  Annie shook her head, eyes wide with fear. “Stop. This isn’t the time or place. Remember the legend? Wait for the full moon. Wait for the other hunters to be with you.”

  Tallulah laughed. A mad, eerie laugh fit for an insane asylum. “That old legend? This flute has no power against Nalusa.”

  “Give it to me,” Tombi said between clenched teeth.

  Tallulah snatched the flute to her chest, like a child protecting a toy. “No. It’s mine.”

  Not for long. Tombi stepped forward. Sister or not, he would get that flute. “I said, give it to me.”

  Annie’s slight head shake drew his attention. What was she about?

  She turned to Tallulah. “If you don’t believe the flute has power, why do you want to keep it?”

  Her voice was calm and soothing. A mother placating an unreasonable child. Tombi wanted to shake sense into his sister, but maybe Annie’s approach was best.

  “I didn’t say it was powerless.” Her eyes watered. “Although it’s done nothing for me yet.”

  Annie stepped a little closer to Tallulah. “What do you expect it to do?”

  Tallulah dropped her head. A wailing, ruined cry spewed from deep within her.

  He couldn’t help it, pity snuffed out the worst of his rage. Tombi had seen her like this only twice before, at their parents’ funeral and at Bo’s death side.

  “It’s supposed to...to...” She swallowed hard. “I thought that if I stole this from the museum and played it in the woods, Bo would find me.”

  She raised her head and gave Annie a hard look. “But he never came to me. Only to you. Why would he do that? I hate you!”

  Annie winced and took a step backward.

  “Stop it, Tallulah,” he ordered. His sympathy dried up at her treatment of Annie. “I can’t believe you let Nalusa’s shadows warp your mind this way. You betrayed us all for nothing.”

  “I knew you’d turn on me. You’ve never loved anyone in your life. You’re a heartless robot. All you care about is fighting.”

  Indignation left him speechless. Tallulah had betrayed them all, and he was the bad guy now?

  “That’s not true,” Annie said quietly.

  In his anger, he’d almost forgotten she was there.

  Annie gazed at him with a soft radiance lit within her brown eyes, like candle glow in the night. It warmed him inside. “Your brother is capable of great love,” she said, a soft smile trembling on her lips.

  “What do you know?” His sister’s voice cut like broken glass. “So what if Tombi sleeps with you? Nothing’s more important to him than his battles with the shadow world. You’re just a...a...diversion.”

  Tombi sucked in his breath at the stark cruelty of his twin. Annie didn’t deserve her vindictiveness.

  Tallulah faced him. “That’s what Courtney, your last girlfriend, told me.”

  “Is that so? And what is Hanan to you if nothing but a diversion?”

  Tallulah gasped.

  “You don’t think I know about your late-night visits in his tent? Don’t give me this crap about how much you loved Bo.”

  “Please, don’t, you two.” Annie looked back and forth between them, distress lines marring her face. “You’re family.”

  Tallulah sank to her knees, sobbing. This was the worst he’d ever seen her.

  “If you knew what it was like to love—really love somebody—you’d understand. Hanan helps me forget when the pain and loneliness are too much to bear. I would trade my soul to speak with Bo one last time.”

  “That’s exactly what you’ve done. Traded your soul. But the worst part is that you placed us all in jeopardy by keeping the flute for yourself. Every day, Nalusa and the shadows grow, and yet you selfishly said nothing about the flute. How long have you had it?”

  “A few weeks. It’s worthless.”

  So quickly, he could do nothing but watch, Tallulah stood and flung the flute into the air with all her strength. The wooden reed twirled and spun in the treetops, blending into the brown-and-green canopy of oaks and pine.

  And then it began its inevitable fall back to earth. The fragile, ancient instrument that was the only hope of containing Nalusa. His heart fell along with it. Surely it would crash and splinter on the ground upon impact.

  Kee-eeeee-ar. The hawk swooped down and gathered the flute in his beak.

  Relief washed over him in a wave—until the hawk ascended back to the treetops, taking the flute with him. Damnation. Tombi hastily pulled the knapsack from his shoulders and opened it, gathering his slingshot.

  “What are you doing?” Annie asked in alarm.

  “Getting the flute back.”

  He placed a rock in the sling and drew back the elastic band.

  “No!” Annie launched herself at him.

  Just as he released the band, she grabbed his arm and changed the trajectory of the rock. It harmlessly thudded against a tall pine, several feet from the perched hawk.

  Its loud screech thwacked the air, and Tombi could have sworn it mocked him. He shook off Annie’s arm to try again, but the hawk flapped its massive wings and flew off, taking Tombi’s last hope with him.

  “We’re doomed,” he said flatly.

  “We always have been,” Tallulah lashed out. “I don’t care, either. Not if I can’t be with Bo.”

  Annie hugged her chest, wide eyes on him. “I’m sorry. I...I couldn’t let you shoot the hawk. He’s my animal guide.”

  “I only meant to have the stone be a near miss. Enough to scare him into dropping the flute.” He wanted to reassure her, to lie and say everything would be okay. But the lie died on his lips. To have had a chance, to be so, so close, only to have it snatched away at the last second. It was all too much.

  Tombi turned to his sister. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” he said harshly. “Hunters have been injured and placed in jeopardy, all because of your treachery.”

  Her tears dried up. “I had nothing to do with that.”

  “Liar. I don’t believe anything you say. I’ll never trust you again.”

  His sister’s lower lip trembled. “I’m telling you the truth. I would never help Nalusa in an ambush. I was going to give you the flute eventually. I just wanted to contact Bo first.”

  “Al
ways thinking of yourself and what you want.” Tombi pulled his knapsack back over his shoulders. “From now on, you’ll have all the time in the world to be selfish. You are no longer one of us. Don’t embarrass yourself and show up at the next hunt.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re banishing me?”

  He hardened his heart. After all, the lives of others depended on them working together as a team. As such, absolute trust among them was needed. There was no room for someone like Tallulah. He turned his back on his sister.

  “Wait!”

  Her anguished cry squeezed his heart, but his feet never hesitated. She had left him no choice.

  Two more steps and he halted. “Annie?” Why wasn’t she by his side? He didn’t turn around, not wanting to face Tallulah again.

  A rustle of leaves and pine needles, and Annie stood before him.

  “You were pretty harsh back there.”

  He stared at her incredulously. “I can’t believe you—of all people—would care. Tallulah’s given you nothing but grief.”

  “It doesn’t matter. She’s your sister, your twin. You can’t disown her.”

  The anger and frustration erupted once more. “I can do what I damn well want. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Annie stiffened. “Stop being an ass.”

  The insult cut to the bone. After two weeks of staying together at the cabin, he thought of them as one, united. But at the first opportunity, Annie took the side of a woman who had shown her nothing but scorn. A woman who had betrayed him and the other hunters in the worst possible way. Annie had gone too far. “Fine. Stay here and let Tallulah cry on your shoulder. She won’t thank you for it.”

  “I will stay.”

  Her stubborn streak surprised him. “Look, don’t let her fool you. She’s put all of us in danger, you included.”

  “Can’t you bend a little? Show forgiveness?”

  “Not on this. She’s destroyed my hope.”

  “Don’t you mean I have?” Annie asked with a gentle stillness that ripped at his conscious. “It was my hawk that flew away with the flute. Do you blame me, as well?”

  The word no wouldn’t come. He stood mute, unable to say it. Unable to give Annie the reassurance she wanted. Logically, he couldn’t blame her; she didn’t control the hawk. But something in him had snapped, was beyond reason.

  At the prolonged silence, Annie flinched as if he had struck her.

  “I see,” she drawled. “I feel sorry for you, Tombi. Hate and revenge have consumed your heart. Tallulah’s right about that. There’s no room in it for love.”

  “Wait.” He placed his hand on her arm, dismayed at the tears swimming in her dark eyes. “She’s wrong.”

  Annie waited.

  “It’s just—I can’t make any promises. The situation is too bleak. It wouldn’t be fair to either one of us.”

  “I’m not afraid to say how I feel. I love you, Tombi.”

  No. Not now. He couldn’t think about it. To fall in love would weaken his focus. How could he organize and fight Nalusa while worrying over a loved one’s safety? “Don’t,” he said harshly.

  “Too late.” She attempted a smile and a light tone, but the hurt in her brown eyes muddied the light that usually gleamed in them.

  He was responsible for that.

  “I’m—”

  She shook her head. “Don’t say you’re sorry. If you don’t feel it, you don’t feel it. At least you didn’t lie to me.”

  She walked back to Tallulah, and he trudged back to the cabin. Alone. The weight of his aloneness smothered his hope even more than the loss of the flute and the betrayal of his twin.

  They were right. He’d lost his capacity to love. Tombi shivered in the muggy heat. Nalusa had as good as won the battle.

  CHAPTER 15

  “Why did you come back?” Tallulah frowned and narrowed her eyes. “Go on. I don’t need you.”

  Tombi was right. There was no winning with his temperamental sister. Annie sighed. She longed to run after him. But she had her pride, and she wouldn’t beg someone for their love. He either felt it or he didn’t. She had deluded herself thinking Tombi felt something stronger between them. Oh, she was convenient, and he liked her well enough, but Crazy Annie had struck out once again.

  Tallulah swiped a hand across her cheeks and sniffed.

  Annie couldn’t help but sympathize. She was close to tears herself. “Come to my grandmother’s cottage with me, and I’ll fix you something to eat and drink.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Tallulah frowned again, but her eyes threatened to spill tears.

  An unexpected smile broke across Annie’s face.

  “What’s so funny?” Tallulah asked suspiciously.

  “You. You’re just like your brother. So prickly.” And so proud. Too proud to admit they ever needed anybody.

  “What do you see in him? That relationship will never go anywhere. You know that, right?”

  Annie’s smile wilted. “Bet no one ever accused you of being a Little Miss Sunshine. Ever.”

  Tallulah snorted.

  “That’s what I thought. Stay here and cry your eyes out, then. I’m leaving.”

  Annie started down the path in the opposite direction of Tombi. To hell with both of them and their damn arrogance. She had her own dignity, and her temper was at a breaking point. She marched on, seething at fate. Useless, but it kept her heart from breaking at Tombi’s silence after she’d spilled her guts. And why had her own animal spirit even betrayed her trust? Maybe she was as deluded and deceived as Tallulah by placing her faith in the wrong place.

  Annie stomped through the path, crushing pine needles and twigs beneath her feet. Sweat steamed on her sticky flesh as she pressed on in the gathering twilight. Damn mosquitoes would eat her up before she arrived home.

  A stinging pain whiplashed across her jaw and neck. She’d carelessly run into a thick, jutting limb.

  A snicker sounded from behind. Annie turned, surprised to find Tallulah a mere ten feet away. Annoyance prickled her burning welt. “Are you following me or heading in the same direction?”

  Tallulah shrugged. “Guess I could use a bite to eat after all.”

  Annie’s temper melted at the admission, but she hid her smile. “Suit yourself.” On she went until she reached the clearing. No light shone in the cottage. It wasn’t the same without Grandma Tia. She longed for the light and warmth of Tombi’s cabin. Instead, she was stuck with the cold Tallulah and an empty house.

  “Is that your place?” Tallulah asked, stepping to her side. “It’s so tiny.”

  Yep. A real ray of sunshine that one was. Annie kept walking, Tallulah close by.

  “What does your name mean in Choctaw?” she asked, more to keep her mind occupied from Tombi’s rejection than a burning urge to know more about his twin.

  “Leaping water. Why?”

  Annie thought of bubbling brooks, gurgling streams and effervescent bubbles. Happy, excited sounds and movement. Tallulah’s name fit her about as poorly as Tombi’s representing a warm glowing sun.

  “Just curious.”

  Tallulah shot her a suspicious look. “Are you named after someone? Annie is so common.”

  “Meaning that I’m also common? You really shouldn’t insult someone about to feed you.”

  “Whatever.”

  Annie retrieved the spare key from beneath a flowerpot on the porch and unlocked the door.

  Stale incense and dust tickled her nose as they entered.

  “It smells funny in here,” Tallulah complained.

  “Yeah, well, no one’s been here in a couple of weeks.”

  Annie flipped on lights and turned up the AC. “Let’s go in the kitchen.”

  She was conscious o
f Tallulah’s damning assessment of the cottage. Her face puckered in disapproval as she pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table. “Guess all the candles and herbs are for y’all’s witchy stuff.”

  Annie didn’t bother replying but retrieved a couple of glasses from the cupboard and poured tap water into them. “Here.” She plopped one in front of Tallulah. “You hungry?”

  “I could use a bite if you’re eating, too.”

  “Tombi and I already ate.” She pictured the simple meal they’d shared. How contented she’d felt a mere two hours earlier. That would teach her to think life had turned around for the better. Annie opened the freezer. “I can offer you a fried chicken TV dinner or a pint of salted-caramel ice cream.”

  “Ice cream.”

  Figured. Annie had wanted that for herself. She handed her guest a spoon and the pint, thinking longingly of the huckleberry cake at Tombi’s. Resolutely, she turned on the stove burner to heat the teapot. A good cup of rosemary and mint tea to refresh their spirits. Annie mixed together some herbs into a sachet as Tallulah ate.

  “Hey, what are you doing there?” Tallulah asked around a mouthful of ice cream. “I want plain black tea without that herbal stuff. Or coffee.”

  Suspicious as her brother. “You’ll drink what I’m fixing, and I need this concoction.”

  Tallulah sniffed, but when the cup was placed in front of her she sipped it experimentally. “It’s actually pretty good,” she admitted grudgingly.

  “So, how did you come in possession of the flute?” Annie asked, sitting down and leaning back in her chair.

  “Does it matter? Your stupid hawk flew off with it. Not my fault it’s gone.” She bent over her cup and gulped down more.

  Apparently, nothing was ever Tallulah’s fault. Annie held her tongue. Tombi had been so angry, he’d neglected to get the details. But she wanted some answers.

  “It’s important we figure out everything together so we can get the flute back and find out who’s really the betrayer.”

  Tallulah’s neck snapped up. “You don’t think it’s me?”

  “No.”