Harlequin Nocturne March 2016 Box Set Read online

  Lots of them.

  Above the treetops, flocks of ishkitini shadowed the full moon. Will-o’-the-wisps, Hashok Okwa Hui’ga, lit the ground in a ghostly festival of lights, outnumbering his hunters by a large margin.

  An overwhelming despair threatened to slow his steps, but Tombi pushed on, heading for the sacred land of his ancestors. Nalusa knew he was in a compromised position and had gathered all his forces to even the fight.

  He pictured Annie, remembered his sister and friends who were circling around the edge of the wisps, coming together to encircle Nalusa and his shadow beings. He threw back his shoulders and fingered the backpack straps holding the flute. He took comfort in possessing the ultimate weapon and that Annie was safe in his cabin.

  Another fifty feet to go until reaching the sacred land border. The wisps sensed the danger; they darted across the swamp erratically, moaning with the souls of the trapped spirits. The squall of misery that combated the ishkitini screeching. Tombi drew a deep breath and focused on the human footsteps advancing along with him. All was according to plan.

  He plunged forward until he was a good ten feet inside his ancestral land. It was time. Attack the wisps now, and free as many spirits as possible before playing the flute and confronting Nalusa. If he did it too early, the shadow king would cower behind his following. And Tombi wanted the chance to wrestle him, one on one. Tombi cawed, mimicking a crow.

  And ran. All of the tribe rushed inward, compressing the circle’s circumference. They threw rocks, careful not to throw strong enough to hit one another. A few wisps escaped, light blinking upward, the inner hearts glowing and pulsing. If they defeated Nalusa, they would do a cleanup operation later to find and free the remaining trapped souls. But if Nalusa won, the poor souls would be trapped forever, roaming the swamps with the parasitic wisps controlling their movements. Tombi doubted any of them had Bo’s incredible will and strength to briefly take control of the wisps and communicate with the outside world.

  Puffs of smoke erupted from the glowing wisp hearts—like a million sparklers waving in the sea breeze. The sparkles burned out, and the souls coalesced into pure white light that spiraled upward. If Annie were here, she could detect a symphony. At least, that was how Tombi imagined it would be—utter joy at the sudden freedom.

  The screeching above intensified. A great horned owl flew directly at him, eyes aglow with murderous intent. There was no time to grab another stone and fend him off. Tombi clutched the dagger in his left hand, his own eyes focused on the owl’s breast, its most vulnerable place, housing its beating heart.

  The owl would scratch first, before his knife could strike, and it would be a vicious slice into flesh, or worse, it could rip out his eyes. A quick glance around, and he saw the ishkitini bearing down on them all. Damn birds. To be defeated by these winged creatures would be humiliating.

  A burst of light appeared between him and the owl. Tombi blinked and threw his right hand over his eyes to protect himself from the blinding conflagration.

  It was a trapped spirit who, instead of flying up and away, had remained.

  A loud screech of pain rent the night air. A smell of burned feathers and singed animal flesh clogged his nose and throat. Tombi crouched low and removed his arm from his eyes. The ishkitini lay before him—dead.

  The lone light rocketed up and away, chasing its freedom with the others released. All around him, his tribe took aim and fired at the advancing ishkitini. Nearly a third of them were taken down, and the rest turned tail.

  Tombi smiled in grim satisfaction. The tribe moved closer until they formed a tight circle. A few of the men were bleeding, but all looked well. Yet...

  “Where’s Tallulah?” he asked, fear thickening his tongue.

  Chulah stepped forward, his face haggard. “No one’s seen her in over an hour.”

  “Go find her,” he ordered.

  His friend nodded and left the circle, eager to ease his mind. She’s okay. She can defend herself. Tombi respected her defense abilities and sharp mind. He couldn’t worry about his twin until Nalusa was defeated.

  They would never have a better time than this moment. Two of the hunters quickly gathered twigs and started a bonfire in the center of the circle. Each of them threw bundles of sage on the flames, the pungent scent that helped counter evil and allow the holy to enter.

  Tombi dug the flute out of his backpack and blew on it, beginning an ancient song of victory. The notes drifted, pure and compelling, filling him with purpose and resolve.

  A rustle shook the underbrush a few yards away, and the grinding metal whir began, drowning out the flute music. Tombi stopped playing. A whiff of decay permeated the land. Tombi’s heart tripped, and all his senses heightened. His friends turned and stared, and they waited as one for Nalusa to appear.

  Dark shadows melded into the form of a tall, thin man who stepped into their vision. He had small pointed ears and red, glowing eyes that sought Tombi.

  “So you’ve got the flute,” Nalusa said in a voice that rumbled like thunder. “But you are still no match for me.”

  “We’ll see about that. Seems all your help has disappeared.” Tombi lifted his hand, ready to signal for his friends to begin the attack.

  “That doesn’t mean I am without power. I have something you want. Something you consider precious.”

  Tombi hesitated, arm held midair. His heart skittered up to his throat. Nalusa had his sister. What else could it be? Unless...

  Another rustle from behind a clump of cypress trees, and more dark shadows emerged. Two of them. A blond male and a slight woman with a familiar shock of brown hair curling down to her hips.

  “Annie!” Tombi’s hand dropped to his side, and a numbed shock bolted through his body like a current. His fingers loosened, and the flute began to slip. He fisted both hands, and the cane reed almost snapped in two pieces while he willed his mind to catch up to his racing heart. Not Annie. Not Annie. Please, not Annie.

  Nalusa’s deep-throated laugh jangled through the bayou. “Ready to make a deal? The flute for your girlfriend.”

  “Don’t do it, Tombi!” Annie pleaded. “This is your chance.”

  Hanan jerked the leather strap, and Annie’s knees crumpled, face contorted in agony.

  No. What mattered most was no longer revenge. It was love. He would fight Nalusa not just for his sister’s ruined life or the tribe that was his family now. Not for his dead friend and not for the greater good of humanity, but he would fight to save Annie. He’d do whatever necessary to keep her safe.

  She was his world.

  “How about this,” Tombi said, slipping the backpack off his shoulders and letting it drop to the ground. “Have Hanan release Annie, and we battle for the flute. Just you and I.”

  Nalusa ran a hand over his long, pointed face, ears twitching and teeny eyes surveying Tombi.

  “I’m a mere human,” Tombi goaded. “This shouldn’t be hard for you.”

  “You are more than a puny mortal.” A fine drizzle of spit foamed at the corners of his thin lips. He pointed a finger at Hanan. “Release the girl.”

  Hanan scowled but took a step backward.

  Damn traitor. If he defeated Nalusa tonight, he’d show no mercy dealing with Hanan later. Annie took great gulps of air, and Tombi winced at her suffering.

  He stepped toward Nalusa, fists raised, and they commenced circling one another—watchful, with deadly intent, gauging their first moves. By the bonfire’s light, Tombi saw that Nalusa’s face was largely featureless, with only a shadowy patch of skin where a nose and cheekbones should appear. His flesh was black, but patterned copper designs shimmered on his skin in the firelight, making him appear half human, half snake. Even though the eyes were human-shaped, the red embers of his pupils burned with the misery of a thousand souls.

  Tombi stared harder