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Audra adjusted her headlamp,taking each step carefully. Pythons, water moccasins, rattlesnakes, and gators were all one misstep away from her demise. As a small child, her grandfather and his brothers would bring her back to this sacred land. They would participate in spiritual rituals. Remy told her the old-timers no longer came to this place but went up around LuLu River and on to Beaver Island, where it was less likely they would encounter a critter that would kill you before you could defend yourself.

Dawson paused. “Do you see that up ahead?” He pointed through the bright light. His hand cast a shadow across the lush green of the Everglades.

Audra squinted.

A grassy hut? Maybe. Yes. Like the newfangled tiki bars that were lined up and down the Intracoastal Waterway.

“Watch your step.” Dawson held her elbow, guiding her through the watery mush of Coonts Island.

If she were any other woman—and this were any other town other than Calusa Cove—she might consider staying more than the ten days. She’d grown bored of her job. It had served its purpose. It had given her a chance to run. To hide. To lose herself in the wilds of beautiful, faraway places.

But she’d been all over the globe. Seen so many different places. Different cultures. Nothing had brought her peace.

She tilted her head and gasped. “That’s a cabin.”

“Not sure I’d call it that, but yeah, it has a roof and walls,” he whispered, crouching down, dimming her light, then his.

We are not Owl Witches. We do not turn into monsters in the dark of night and torment humans. Nor are we gypsies. You, my child, are just a little girl. To the Native American people, you are special because you have fire hair, white skin, and freckles, yet you are still one of them. They do not fear you. They worship you. The wanderers—or the gypsies—well, they see you as a unique child. One with the heart of a gypsy and the soul of someone connected to the elements. Do not ever let the people of Calusa Cove take that away from you. Don’t ever change. Be free. Be you. Be as wild as your heart sings. You were born to be connected to the waters of the Everglades. To the land the Cove sits on. And to the sea that crashes along the shore. It is who you are.

Those were her mother’s words.

And her grandmother’s.

Until their last breaths, they’d reminded Audra of who she was and how she was connected to this part of the world.

Her father had always told her the same thing, and for the first few years after her mom’s passing, she’d skipped through town as if the stares and whispers still didn’t matter.

But they had.

The older she’d gotten, the more she’d understood what they meant. She was the offspring of a crazy man, and she was what legends were made of.

“Stay close,” Dawson whispered.

She looped her finger into his belt loop and followed him toward the shack. A million old stories filled her brain. They had never scared her as a small child, but this morning, before sunrise, they terrified her.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s here right now,” Dawson said. “Come on, let’s check out the inside.”

“For a second, I thought you were going to ask me to stay here—by myself.”

He chuckled. “While I know you can handle snakes and gators all by yourself, it’s dark, and well, why risk it?”

Her lips quirked. “Aw, aren’t you the gentleman?”

“Liz accused me of being a Neanderthal just because I neglected to open the door for her a couple of times and then didn’t bring her flowers after we fought.”

“That’s pathetic,” Audra said. “When we fight, I want good, hard sex. The kind of sex that might include those handcuffs of yours.”

“In that case, why don’t you stay put and deal with that python over there giving us the evil stare.” He waggled his finger.

She shifted her gaze, eyeing the ten-foot python slithering through the tall grass. “Something tells me you haven’t been able to get a girl to let you use them.”

He chuckled. “I haven’t dated anyone since I became a civilian cop.” He glanced over his shoulder. “But the answer is no. Let’s just say tying up of any kind hasn’t been in the cards.”

“If I let you, does that mean I get to use them on you?”

“I think that’s only fair.” He stepped between her and the snake that seemed oblivious that his morning meal was twenty paces away. He took her by the hand and helped her up onto a platform. “Holy shit,” he said softly. “There’s another shack over there.”

The structure was well hidden behind all the trees and lush vegetation of the mangrove.