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  He didn’t want Annie’s love. She’d be better off without him and his problems. Especially now that she’d learned to control her sense of hearing. There was nothing more he could offer Annie. Tombi shrugged off her hand. “Bring everyone as soon as you can.”

  He leaped out of the truck and hit the ground on a panicked run. Must save Annie. Must save Annie. The refrain echoed with every footfall, forming a rhythm of urgency. Heart and breath raced in despairing accompaniment.

  Tombi wanted to kill Hanan. The rat bastard. After everything they had been through together. If the traitor harmed Annie, he’d pay with his life.

  CHAPTER 17

  Annie’s arms, shoulders, back and legs dug into rough pine bark. Rope burned into her wrists like a bracelet of thorns. The more she struggled, the more it tightened, as if the cords were the sinew of a boa constrictor squeezing opportunistically with its victim’s exhale. So this must have been what it felt like hundreds of years ago for women accused as witches and bound to a stake.

  Hanan walked around the tree, inspecting his handiwork with the precision of a mechanical engineer. “That should hold you.”

  Annie bit her lip, struggling to hide her fear. Worse than the physical pain was the terror from being at Hanan’s mercy. She was totally vulnerable, and he could do anything with her that he wanted. For as long as he wanted.

  Had Tallulah gotten to Tombi yet? Her sense of time was as warped as an antique mirror. Every second dripped like a dollop of molasses. Tallulah could have been gone twenty minutes or twenty seconds for all she knew.

  Defend yourself. Miss Belle’s scent of myrrh and licorice teased the back of her throat. I’m not alone. She grabbed on to the belief as if it were a lifeline at sea.

  What would Tia Henrietta do if she were in this position? Annie took a deep breathe. First, her grandma would admonish her to calm her mind, to find that quiet place deep inside that was still and peaceful and ever-present, an inner lagoon of peace and tranquility. There, she would find guidance—or the endurance to weather this ordeal. As long as her hawk possessed the flute, Hanan and Nalusa needed her alive.

  He stood before her and crossed his arms. “Call your hawk.”

  She wouldn’t outright defy him. Not tied to a tree. “I’ll try.” Annie closed her eyes and moved her lips in a flow of mumbo-jumbo words. It helped not to look at his eagle eyes dissecting her every move, watching for the slightest misstep. On and on she continued the charade, knowing each moment that passed brought Tombi closer.

  Hanan interrupted her almost hypnotic reverie. “How long is this going to take?”

  “I have no idea. This is new to me.”

  A sudden pressure pinched her chin, and Annie’s eyes snapped open. Hanan’s face was so close to her own that his hot breath fanned across her eyelids. His fingers dug into her flesh. Slowly, he increased the pressure until she feared he would break her jawbone. Tears stung her eyes, and a low whimper escaped her mouth.

  “We don’t have all night, witch.”

  “I’m...I’m doing my best.” Her words were distorted from his grip on her chin.

  “Try harder. I’ll give you another minute. If it hasn’t appeared, you’ll force me to use other means to persuade you.” He ran a hand down her breasts and painfully squeezed a nipple.

  Bastard.

  Annie clamped her teeth together to keep from crying out. Hanan would like that. She guessed he was the kind of man who would find rough sex a turn-on. What had Tallulah seen in him?

  He took a step back and lifted his head, searching the night sky. She couldn’t keep putting him off with the fake incantation. Perhaps the wisest course was to try to summon the hawk after all. Just because it came didn’t mean it would bring the flute.

  Come to me. If you are my animal spirit, meant to guide me, I need your help. Fly toward me. I ask this by the power of all the saints and by all that is sacred in our bond.

  From a great distance, the swoosh from a spread of wings brushed against the synapsis of fear pounding inside her body. The hawk had heard her petition and would soon be here. The beating of its feather upon liftoff fluttered in her chest, and she sagged against the tree in relief. “My hawk’s on the way,” she whispered.

  “Excellent.” Hanan unloaded the leather backpack from his shoulders and withdrew a rounded stone.

  Annie’s breath caught. “What are you doing?” But she knew. She tugged against the ropes binding her wrist and ankles but only succeeded in further abrading the raw skin. Liquid trickled down her fingers. That blood would soon be a mosquito magnet.

  “And now we wait,” he said coolly.

  “Please, can’t you loosen these ropes a little bit? I’m bleeding.”

  “As soon as I have the flute, you’ll be free.”

  Liar. She’d be trapped forever in a will-o’-the-wisp. Just like Bo. With the flute, Nalusa would defeat the remaining hunters, and there would be no one left to free trapped souls. And what would happen to Tombi?

  Be careful, Annie urged the hawk. Hanan is armed and means to kill you.

  Ca-ca-caw came a faint screech. The hawk understood her silent petition! There was still a chance to escape this disaster.

  “What are you smiling about?” Hanan growled, his attention back on her. He stared up and down her body, slowly and deliberately.

  She hadn’t realized she was smiling. The blood drained from her face at this new menace.

  Hanan abruptly grabbed her hair on both sides of her face and thrust his body against hers so hard she could feel his need pressed against her core. “You planning something, witch?” he growled into her right ear.

  “N-no.”

  As suddenly as he’d been upon her, Hanan withdrew, and she gulped in fresh air.

  “What the hell? Something’s burning me.” He slapped at the front of his jeans, and his brows knit as he studied her. Rough hands reached for her again, yanking and ripping the mojo bag from her belt loop. Smoke drifted through the cloth, and he threw it on the ground, shaking his fingers from the hot contact.

  Annie smiled. This time a deliberate curling of the lips, a taunting. Hanan wasn’t invulnerable against her hoodoo powers. He might hurt her, but she wasn’t entirely defenseless.

  “We’ll have our fun later,” he promised.

  A flurry of feathers and wings beating in the wind sounded from above, so loud even Hanan heard it.

  Thank the spirits.

  Her relief was short-lived. Hanan gripped a rock, and his thin lips set into a predatory line.

  “Look out!” she screamed.

  Hanan rounded on her so swiftly she didn’t see the blow coming. Pain slashed her left cheek and cut her bottom lip—white heat pulsed and burned. A metallic taste tinged her mouth. Annie braced herself for more of the same, but Hanan’s attention was directed upward.

  The casual violence of the assault churned her stomach. This man would have no mercy in reaching his goal for more power and money. It was as if his soul had already blackened to match the pitch of the night.

  A flick of the wrist, and his round stone was propelled upward. It pinged against a tree branch and fell harmlessly back down to earth. Hanan loaded his slingshot and attacked again.

  Ca-caw. The hawk drew near enough she could make out the reddish-brown feathers spread in flight from one tree top to another. Be careful, she warned silently. He’s trying to kill you. But her animal guide could probably see the enemy from afar better than she could only a few feet away.

  Or so she hoped.

  Another stone missile rustled through leaves and again fell harmlessly down.

  “Damn it,” Hanan muttered, loading another stone in the sling. The weapon whizzed in the night.

  A sickening thud of rock hitting bird flesh rent the thick, humid air. Ca-ca, ca-caw.