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Authors: Lexi George

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“Well, well, w-e-l-l, and who is this?” Meredith propped her manicured hands on her size two hips and eyed the men with appreciation. “It's a little early for Halloween, but I like it. Shiver me timbers, me buck-os.”
“They're not pirates, Meredith. They're warriors,” Addy said. “The big sword and the bow and arrows ought to be your first clue.”
“The only sword I see is the one Tall, Dark, and Sinful is carrying in his pants. Impressive,” Meredith purred. She turned her attention to Ansgar, her gaze lingering on his crotch. “Ooh, his friend is packing heat, too.” She gave a fake shiver. “Delicious.”
What was up? Couldn't Meredith see the great big sword Brand carried or Ansgar's longbow and arrows? Evie didn't seem to see them, either. How strange.
“So, what brings you boys to town?” Meredith said, oozing femininity with all the poisonous charm of a cobra.
Back in high school, Meredith was Miss Everything. Prom queen, homecoming queen, head cheerleader, emphasis on the
head.
After high school, she got her hooks into Trey. Marrying into a socially prominent family landed her front and center in the Hannah social scene. Meredith thrived on attention. She demanded attention, particularly from males. But Brand and Ansgar, bless them all to pieces, ignored her. The Death Starr! Nobody ignored the Death Starr. The expression of disbelief and outrage on Meredith's face was priceless. It made Addy feel warm inside.
Until Brand glared at her, that is, and the warm fuzzies turned into the cold willies.
“Adara, I must speak with you,” he said.
Well, actually, he
growled.
Meredith grew visibly more peevish by the second. “Who
are
these men, Addy?”
Addy thought quickly. “Actors, from the medieval dinner theater in Orlando.”
“What are they doing in Hannah?”
“They're—uh—here for the Farris funeral.”
“Hmm.” Meredith tapped one dainty little foot. “Long-lost relatives?”
“That's right.” Addy smiled with relief. The Death Starr seemed to buy her story, thank God. Maybe she wasn't such a bad liar, after all.
Meredith cocked her head like an inquisitive sparrow. “Just blew into town?”
“Uh huh.”
“If they just got here and they're so long lost, how come you know so much about them?” the Death Starr asked sweetly, going in for the kill.
Addy gaped at Meredith. “Uh . . . well, um, you see . . .”
And that was it. Her brain shut down and went on vacation. For the life of her, she could not think of a single intelligent thing to say. Or a not so intelligent thing to say. She was screwed, glued, and tattooed. She was the planet Alderaan, and she was toast. Score one for the Death Starr.
Evie stepped forward, bravely drawing the Death Starr's fire. “Her mother told her. She called Addy this morning and told her to expect them. They have to rush back to the theater right after the funeral, which is why they're dressed so funny. They've each ordered a spray for the funeral, which I think is awfully sweet. The large sprays, too, not the dinky ones like—” Evie faltered, but Addy knew what she'd been about to say.
Like the dinky ones you ordered for your father's funeral, Meredith.
From the expression on Meredith's face, she knew it, too. Addy saw Evie dart a nervous glance at Ansgar, and away again before continuing. “N-nothing but roses and white lilies. There won't be a single white rose left in the shop today after Addy fills their order.”
The Death Starr turned her super lasers on Evie and opened fire. “I don't recall speaking to you,
Whaley,
but since you're such a know-it-all let me tell you this. I'm here to place an order for the very exclusive luncheon I'm having in the Gilded Room at the club today. Six centerpieces, all white roses and baby's breath. Since you're Addy's little gofer, I suggest you shag your lumpy ass over to Paulsberg and get me some white roses pronto. But, make sure you have the florist wrap them in cellophane first. Don't you dare touch them, you hear? I don't want fat girl cooties on my flowers.”
Evie wilted under Meredith's barrage of venom. Something inside of Addy snapped.
“Evie is not fat.” Addy jabbed the floral scissors in her hand at Meredith for emphasis. “She never was. That's something you made up out of spite in the seventh grade, because Evie got boobs first and you were jealous. You, on the other hand, have always been a rude bitch. I put up with it in school, but I'm tired of it. Apologize to Evie at once.”
“Me, apologize to that stupid cow? I don't think so. And you'd better watch your mouth, Addy Corwin, if you hope to keep my business. I'm a very important person in this town.”
The blood sang through Addy's veins. She was strong. She was invincible. She was tired of Meredith's crap.
“Here's the thing, Meredith,” she said. “I don't want your business. In fact, I don't want you in my shop. Ever again. You're a nasty, mean person, and I hope you get pimples all over your tiny little butt so bad you have to eat off the mantel for a month.”
Addy knew she'd scored a direct hit when the Death Starr's skin went all blotchy and her eyes bugged out.
“You'll regret this, Addy,” she said. “By the time I'm through with you and Tub O' Lard you'll—”
Meredith gave an unladylike grunt and whirled around. “Something stuck me. Somebody jabbed a pin in my—” She tucked in her pelvis, jerking like a marionette. “Stop it! Ouch, oh, my God, that
hurts.
Help! Somebody help! Ow, ow,
ow
!”
Clutching her bottom in both hands, she ran out the door.
Chapter Five
A
nsgar shut the front door, drowning out the shrill sound of Meredith's wails.
He turned to Addy with a frown of disapproval. “You see what comes of imparting our gifts to humans, brother?” He spoke with that superior drawl that set Addy's teeth on edge. “A petty misuse of power.”
His gaze shifted to Evie and softened. “Although in this case, I will admit, the punishment may have been justified. She was a most unpleasant creature, much like the three-tongued adder harpies of Gorth. Still, I cannot think Conall will approve.”
Addy bristled. “Who the Sam Hill is Conall? What are you on about, Blondy? What ‘petty misuse of power'?” She waved her hands in the air. “Never mind, I don't have time for this.”
Brand stepped closer, his expression intent. “Adara, we must speak. It is of the utmost importance.”
Evie cleared her throat. “Uh, Addy, you haven't introduced me to your friends.”
“They're not my friends.”
“Introduce me anyway.”
Addy blew out an impatient breath. “Oh, all right.” She flapped a hand in Brand's direction. “Evie, this is Brand. The blond guy with the stick up his butt is Ansgar. I met them last night. If you'll excuse me, I have a million things to do.”
She hurried into the supply room and shut the door. Sagging against the frame in relief, she closed her eyes. She could hear Evie and Brand talking. Their words were indistinct, but the muffled sound of Brand's deep, rumbling baritone made her want to cry. What was the matter with her? Her skin felt too tight. She was jumpy and on edge, like she'd overdosed on caffeine. One moment she was tearing Meredith a new one—oh, my God, she called the Death Starr a bitch to her face, the small-town equivalent of committing hara-kiri, but boy, it felt good!—and the next moment she wanted to burst into tears.
Her emotions were all over the place. What happened to her hard-won self-control? Must be hormones kicking in. Surely, she wasn't acting like a lunatic because she was happy to see Tall, Dark, and Frosty again? He walked through her door and her heart started rabbit-kicking like Thumper on speed. Nah, her palpitations had nothing to do with him.
Maybe she had a heart condition. Yeah, that was it. She was probably walking around with a bad ticker. What a relief. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. In the meantime, she needed to get a grip. Places to go, people to plant. The Farris funeral was two hours away.
“Umph.” She stumbled forward as Brand pushed his way into the supply room. He balanced a thermos and a paper plate in one hand.
“I have sustenance, thanks to the beneficence of your friend Evie.” He set the plate and the thermos on a shelf. “You will eat.”
Addy stiffened. You
will
eat, says the alpha male. Not you should eat or, Addy, won't you please eat something, but you
will
eat. “See here, bub, I don't—”
He jerked her into his arms and kissed her. It took Addy by surprise, that hot, devastating assault on her senses. The man sure knew how to kiss. It also shut her right the hell up; no doubt what he intended all along, the macho jerk. What surprised her was her response. She kissed him right back. No struggling, no murmured protests, no coy attempts to evade his kiss. He put his mouth on hers, and she went from zero to ninety like that. She was heart pine and he was a blow torch, and she went up in flames. She loved it. She couldn't get enough of it. She wanted to climb the man like a telephone pole.
“You sent me away.” Wrapping his hands in her hair, he pulled her head back and trailed a path of kisses down her throat and along her collarbone. “This I cannot allow. Suppose the djegrali returned and I was not here to protect you?”
There he went again, telling her what she could and could not do. He touched the pulse at the base of her throat with the tip of his tongue and dragged his hot mouth up her throat to nibble at her lips, and she forgot all about being indignant. He coaxed her mouth open and dipped his tongue inside, tasting her, exploring her, his tongue tangling with hers. Her head spun, and her insides went all shivery. She clutched his arms and held on for dear life. She was on fire, she was flying apart. She was losing her mind.
“Let me go, I can't breathe,” she gasped, trying to break free. It was no use. The man was six feet plus of pure, hard muscle. “I want—I want—”
“I know. I know, little one.” He ran his hands down her back and hiked her skirt over her thighs. His fingertips teased the curves of her buttocks. “It is the first time you've used the power, and you burn.”
Power, what power? Her thoughts were hazy with lust. Burn didn't begin to cover it. More like spontaneously combust. She gave a cry of protest when he slid his hand inside her panties.
“Shh, easy,” he whispered. “Let me help. I know what to do.”
His fingers parted the tender folds and found the sensitive nubbin of flesh hidden within them, and she went off like a rocket. The Big O,
la petite mort,
only there was nothing little about it. He caught her scream of release in his mouth and held her until the first violent wave of trembling passed. Boneless and weak, she collapsed against him, too spent to object when he pulled out a crate and sat down on it with her in his lap. She relaxed, enjoying the comfortable silence that stretched between them. After a moment, he retrieved the thermos and the plate of banana bread from the shelf.
Breaking off a bite-size piece of the bread, he held it to her lips. “Eat, and then we will talk.”
She shook her head. “No, thanks, I'm not hungry.”
“Nonetheless you will eat.” She shook her head, and his voice deepened to that low, purring growl that sent shivers up and down her spine. “For me, you will do this.”
“Oh, all right.” Unable to resist the entreaty in his voice, she parted her lips and allowed him to slip a piece of bread in her mouth. “Though I can take care of myself.”
“I like taking care of you.”
“Yeah? I kinda like it, too, but I don't think I should get used to it.” She glanced at him through her lashes. “It's not like you're going to hang around or anything, right?”
His arms tightened around her. “I will abide here for the time being. Han-nah-a-lah appears to be a hub of demon activity. It is most curious. Ansgar and I agree the situation warrants further investigation.”
“Han-nah-a-lah?”
“Is that not what this hamlet is called?” Brand slipped another morsel of bread into her mouth. He opened the thermos and poured green tea into the top, then held the cup to her lips. “It was the name on the marker at the outskirts of this place.”
Addy swallowed a sip of the sweetened tea. “Are you talking about that old sign at the south end of town? I'm surprised you could read it. Hannah,
Alabama,
is what it says, but half the letters are gone. The city council has been talking about replacing it for years.”
“To the Dalvahni, Han-nah-a-lah means
the end of all things.
Perhaps that is why Ansgar and I—like the demons, it would seem—have been drawn here, to fight the final battle.”
“Hannah a hotbed of supernatural woo-woo? You've got to be kidding. No self-respecting demon would be caught undead here. Heck, we're so podunk we don't even have a Burger Doodle.”
“Demons find this Burger Doodle attractive?”
“Nah, if I had to guess, I'd say they're more into soul food.” She clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh, God, I made a pun. Slap me.”
“You are giddy from the power. It is natural. Now that you have taken in nourishment and found sexual release the symptoms should subside.”
Sexual release? The blood rushed to Addy's face. Oh, no, he did not say that out loud. And so matter-of-factly, too.
Pardon me, milady, but you should feel a whole lot better now that I've shoved my hand down your panties and made you sing like the fat lady.
How embarrassing. But, she did feel better now that she'd eaten and . . . uh . . . you know. She closed her eyes. Oh, God, maybe the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
“The djegrali dealt you a mortal blow,” Brand continued. “You would have died had I not saved you. In doing so, we merged and you received some of my powers. That is how you banished Ansgar and me beyond your settlement borders, and gave that disagreeable female spots on her rump.”
Her eyes flew open. “You think
I
teleported you and Blondy out of town and gave Meredith pizza butt?” She jumped to her feet. “That's mental. Look, bub, I've had a lot to deal with since last night, and your crazy whacked-out ideas aren't helping. Creepy dementors and a new hairdo, and a talking dog and a ten-foot albino deer, not to mention sexy warrior dudes invading my house—”
“Dudes, this is a plural term, is it not?” Brand scowled. “Do you find Ansgar sexually attractive?”
“He's easy on the eyes, I'll give him that. But, I wouldn't let him put his hand down my pants, if that's what you mean.”
Whoops, she did it again. Opened her big, fat mouth and said what she was thinking. Talk about diarrhea of the mouth. She had a terminal case of it.
Brand jerked her back onto his lap. “That is exactly what I mean. He is not to touch you. This I cannot allow.”
Whew, bossy
and
possessive. “Don't worry, he's not my type. But I don't think you have anything to worry about on that score. I'm pretty sure he's into Evie, in case you haven't noticed.”
“I did not notice. You are the only one I see when I am in your presence.” He kissed the vee of exposed skin at the top of her silk blouse and nuzzled her neck. “And when we are apart as well.” He moved his lips to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “I did not like it today when you sent me away. Suppose the djegrali returned to harm you? That is why I will accompany you to this sepulchral service Mistress Evie told me about.”
“Sepulchral service?” Addy leaped up and flung open the supply room door. “The Farris funeral! I should have been there twenty minutes ago. I am soooo late!”
“Adara wait, I must accompany you.”
She whirled back around. “That's sweet, Brand, but there is no way I'm taking Conan the Barbarian to the Farris funeral. I'll be fine. I'd rather face a hundred demons any day than my mother in one of her snits. And she'll be headed straight for Snitsville if I don't get over there pronto.”
She rushed into the front room of the store. “Evie, be a doll and mind things for me, will you? I gotta get over to the body shop.”
Snatching up a standing basket of mums, snapdragons, and lilies, she bolted out the front door and down the street in the direction of Corwin's Serenity Chapel and Mortuary.
The storage room door slammed open and the dark-haired hunk Addy had introduced as Brand strode out. Evie eyed him uncertainly. On the surface he looked calm enough, but he radiated suppressed emotion and a raw, animal magnetism that screamed danger. This was not a man you wanted to mess with. She sure hoped she wasn't to blame for his bad mood. She did a quick mental recount. Nope, wasn't her. Addy must have done something to tick him off. Addy sometimes had that effect on people.
He confirmed her suspicion when he bellowed, “Adara Jean, come back here.”
His voice rattled the decorative plates and pictures on the wall, but Evie could have told him he was wasting his energy. Addy was long gone. She shot out the door and past the plate glass display window so fast it made Evie blink. Cheese and crackers, it was like Addy was on speed or something. Drugs; that was it. Addy was on drugs. No other explanation for her best friend leaving her alone with two strangers. Two beautiful
male
strangers. Addy knew she suffered from shyness, Evie thought indignantly, especially around men. Men in general made her nervous, and good-looking men gave her the willies. And these two specimens of masculine magnificence shot way past good-looking and into the supernaturally handsome zone. One look at these guys, and the male underwear models of the world would strangle themselves with their own shorts. They were intergalactically gorgeous, especially the blond guy. Ansgar, that was his name. Evie slid him a cautious glance and looked away again. Cripes, he was so gorgeous he glowed.
And he was looking right at her.
Brand growled—he growled!—and turned to glare at Evie. She shrank back from the look in his eyes, a feral gleam like a tiger on the prowl. Or at least that's the gleam she imagined a prowling tiger's eyes might have. She'd never seen a tiger, thank God, except on the National Geographic channel.
“Where did she go?” he demanded.
Evie risked another quick peek at Ansgar. He still watched her, his arms crossed on his broad chest, with an unblinking scrutiny that made her self-conscious. Make that super self-conscious, since plain old ordinary run-of-the-mill self-conscious was normal for her.

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