Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb (18 page)

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Authors: Lexi George

BOOK: Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb
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A
meat-eating
animal; this was no herbivore.
Sassy heard a stifled gasp from the backseat and glanced in the rearview mirror. Taryn sat ramrod straight, her gaze fixed on the windshield. She sensed the predator in their midst, too.
“License and proof of insurance,” the officer said.
There was a still, alert quality about him, like he'd taken their measure in a single glance.
No dummy, this man.
“Certainly, Officer.” Sassy held up her wallet in one hand and reached for the glove box. She showed him the insurance slip. It was soaked.
“Take the license out of the wallet, ma'am.”
Goodness, he was intimidating. He acted like she was a felon. Or worse, badly dressed.
She fished the laminated rectangle out of the wallet and handed it to him. He glanced from the I.D. to Sassy and back again. The aura of danger around him thickened.
“You don't look like the female in this photograph.”
“I know, right? The woman at the probate office was a major crab. I told her she didn't get my best side, but she refused to retake it.”
Sassy's smile bounced off the officer's shield of hard ass. Marshmallows, her charm projector must be malfunctioning.
“This is a photocopy of a license, ma'am. And your insurance information is unreadable.”
“Yes, I know. I can expla—”
“You can explain it at the county jail. There's a BOLO on this automobile. It was reported missing yesterday along with the driver, some rich debutante out of Mobile.”
“A BOLO, really?” Strictly speaking, Sassy hadn't been a deb in
ages
, but she was much too excited to argue about it. “Am I being arrested?
Awesome.
”
“Awesome?” Evan thumped his head against the back of the seat. “Sassy, you have got to quit smoking that shit.”
Chapter Eighteen
P
oof!
Grim vanished from the front seat and rematerialized at the officer's side.
“Nice trick,” the lawman said without twitching a muscle.
Which said a lot about him and his job. He was one cool customer.
“You are the shire reeve?” Grim asked.
Grim's whiskey smooth voice sent a tingle of
ahh
through Sassy. Since that scorching kiss in the river, she'd been painfully aware of him. Her senses buzzed at his scent and nearness, and her body hummed with sexual tension.
She wanted sex. With Grim.
It didn't matter how many times she reminded herself she was promised to Wes, her libido howled like a toddler sent home from a birthday party without a treat bag. The quart of fairy Kool-Aid she'd ingested probably hadn't helped.
Who knew fairies were such horny little gadflies?
“I'm Sheriff Whitsun.” The officer's voice yanked Sassy from her lascivious thoughts. “And you're Dalvahni. I've seen that vapor act before.”
Oh ho, so this wasn't the sheriff's first ticket to the demon hunter circus. Life in Hannah must be one big paranormal party.
Whitsun sized Grim up. “You by any chance related to a guy named Ansgar?”
“He is my brother. I am Grim. The female with the inexplicable desire to be jailed is Sassy Peterson.”
“Peterson?” The sheriff's sunglasses lasered in on Sassy. “That so?”
“Yeah,” Evan said. “As in
the
Petersons. Get Daddy Joel on the horn. He'll straighten this out.”
The sheriff cocked a brow. “Daddy Joel?”
“My stepfather, Joel Champion,” Sassy said. “I borrowed his car yesterday and came to Hannah on business. I got . . . sidetracked.”
“Sidetracked how?”
Holy BOGO, how to explain without sounding like a lunatic?
Well, there was this saber-tooth deer, and a horrible old witch, and a glowing silver stag the size of a Rolls-Royce, and fairies and—
Better keep it simple.
“My GPS quit working. I got lost and ran off the road.”
Into a creek and nearly drowned, where I was saved by the Hot Ginger Dude with the built-in teleportation device. Oh, yeah, and if the Incredible Hulk and the Thing were a gay couple and had a baby, the guy in the backseat would be their love child.
And the ruby red supermodel sitting beside him is some kind of ninja vagina Amazon warrior chick.
“Law enforcement officers in three counties are looking for you, Ms. Peterson.”
“I'm sorry. I lost my cell phone and my purse,” Sassy said. “It was a crazy day.”
That was the understatement of the century.
Whitsun gave her another hard look from behind his sunglasses. His nostrils flared as though he could
smell
the truth of her words.
He turned his attention to Evan. “Who are you?”
“Evan Beck.”
“You look familiar.”
“Guess I got one of them faces.”
Whitsun's sunglasses remained fixed on Evan, like he was running Evan through his databanks.
“You're a dead ringer for Beck Damian,” Whitsun said at last. “You that brother I've heard so much about?”
“Guilty as charged.” Evan's mouth twisted. “Has Cookie been talking about me?”
Cookie? The tattoo on Evan's arm was for his sister? How sweet. A lump formed in Sassy's throat. Trey never got a tattoo for her. Her brother was a dog; a dead dog. On the positive side, he didn't shed or have fleas. And he didn't leave poopy pies in the yard.
He also didn't talk to her, which was pretty much the same as when he'd been alive.
“Conall asked me to keep an eye out for you,” Whitsun said to Evan. “Your sister's been worried. You weren't at the wedding.”
“I wasn't invited.”
“You and Beck on the outs?”
“None of your damn business.”
“Fair enough.”
Whitsun shifted his attention to Taryn. His expression remained impassive, but he vibrated awareness. Something told Sassy the sheriff had saved the huntress for last.
“Who are you?”
Taryn gave Whitsun a cool stare. “That also is not your affair.”
“My county, my business.”
To Sassy's surprise, Grim spoke up.
“She is with me,” he said. “Taryn has matters to discuss with Conall.”
“Sounds important.” The sheriff's attention remained fixed on Taryn. “You Dalvahni?”
“Kirvahni. We are nothing alike.”
Evan made a noise. “Are you kidding? Strap on a dick and you could be twins.”
Glancing in the mirror, Sassy knew the second that Taryn processed Evan's crudity with her translator, because the huntress stiffened.
“You have a filthy tongue, sir,” she said. “I do not care for vulgarity.”
Oops, someone had their leathers in a bunch. Time to intervene.
Sassy shot Evan a repressive glare. “Sometimes, Evan can be
such
a card.” She turned back to the sheriff. “What he's trying to say is that Taryn and Grim have similar goals and interests.”
“The hell I am,” Evan said. “I'm saying they both got a giant stick up their asses.”
Some people could not be helped. Sassy decided to try another tack.
“Taryn's a demon hunter, too,” she told the sheriff. “Isn't that cramazing?”
Whitsun grunted. “That explains the outfit.”
Taryn looked down at her vest. “Is something amiss with my apparel?”
“Nothing, Daniella Boone. Except it's May in Alabama and you're running around in suede,” Evan said. “Hot in a kinky elvish dominatrix kind of way, but definitely weird.”
Taryn's lips tightened. “I see.”
“Your clothes are not a problem. Your weapon is,” Whitsun said. “Hunting season is over, so that bow better be for target practice.” He stepped back. “Stay in the vehicle while I check this out.” He jabbed a finger at Grim. “And you—back in the car.”
Unclipping a police radio from his belt, he walked back to the Jeep. “Willa Dean? Get Joel Champion on the horn, pronto. I think I've found our missing deb.”
 
Ten minutes later, Daddy Joel was on the phone.
“How could you do this to your mama, Sassy?” he scolded. “She's been worried sick.”
The reproach in her stepfather's voice plunged Sassy into a quicksand of guilt. Daddy Joel was right. Mama must be frantic. Sassy had never spent so much as a night away from home. No slumber parties in elementary school. No trips to church or cheer camp. No out-of-town ballgames.
In college, Sassy lived at home, driving from Fairhope to Mobile for classes at Spring Hill College. She texted Mama when she arrived on campus, and again on the trip back. That was the rule.
Otherwise Mama fretted, and Sassy and Daddy Joel moved heaven and earth to avoid that. Mama was the piper, and they danced to her tune.
“You're very important to us, Sassy Bug.” Daddy Joel's voice softened. “You're our silver and our gold, a treasure beyond measure.”
It was one of Daddy Joel's favorite sayings, a warm fuzzy that made Sassy light up inside. It was lovely to be wanted and protected.
“I'm sorry Mama got upset.” Sassy's hand tightened on the phone. “Tell her I'll be home this afternoon after I meet with the lawyer.”
“Come home now. You can handle the sale of the mill by phone. Your mama needs you.”
Sassy felt a twinge of annoyance. “This afternoon, Daddy Joel.”
“Let Wesley handle it,” Daddy Joel said. “That's what husbands are for.”
A tiny seed of rebellion germinated inside Sassy. She didn't want Wes to handle it. She had a business degree and a perfectly good brain.
Besides, Wes wasn't her husband yet.
“In fact,” Daddy Joel continued, “I think I'll have him drive up there. You can follow him home. You could get lost in a paper sack.”
It was an old joke between them, but, for some reason the familiar words irritated Sassy today.
She pressed her lips together. “Toodles, DJ. Give Mama my love and tell her not to worry. See you soon.”
Ignoring Daddy Joel's sputtering protests, Sassy handed the phone back to the sheriff with a breezy smile. “My parents are
such
worrywarts. Know what I mean?”
“Nope.” Whitsun's mirrored sunglasses reflected the glare from the sun. “I was raised by my aunt Weoka. She didn't tolerate nonsense out of anybody, especially me. Do you know your hair is fizzing glitter?”
Sassy batted the colored sparks darting around her head. “New product,” she lied. How long before the fairymones wore off and her hair stopped reacting to her emotions? “Are we free to go?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Now that she'd been properly identified, Whitsun seemed relaxed, even pleasant. He took her by the elbow, walked her back to the Maserati, and opened the door. A real Southern gentleman.
“You take care, Miss Peterson,” he said. “You have any trouble while you're in Hannah, any trouble at all, you let me know.” Whitsun's gaze shifted to the huntress. “That goes for you, too, Miss Kirvahni.”
Taryn stared straight ahead. “I do not recall asking for your help, nor do I need it.”
“Duly noted. The offer still stands.”
Sassy paused with the car door ajar. “Actually, Sheriff, there is something I'd like you to look into.”
“If it's fixing a traffic ticket, forget it.”
“Of course not. This is a criminal matter.”
“Let it go, Sassy.” Evan leaned forward in his seat. “I'll take care of it.”
“Take care of what?” Whitsun gave Evan a hard look. “You got an issue with somebody in my county, you take it up with me.”
“No issue, Sheriff.” Evan relaxed with a grin. “No issue at all.”
“Evan, she drugged you and locked you in a
shed
.”
“Who did?” Whitsun was once more all business.
Sassy opened her mouth and shut it again. “I don't know her name. But she's horrible and belongs in jail.”
“That so?” Whitsun jerked his head at Evan. “You get this cockamamie story from him?”
“It's not a cockamamie story. It's the truth. I was there. If I hadn't let Evan out of that shed, she'd have eaten him.”
“Cannibal, huh?” The sheriff looked skeptical, but his notepad came out. “Whereabouts does this man-eater live?”
“Down by the river in a little cottage,” Sassy said. “It's very quaint, like something out of a fairy tale.”
Whitsun stopped in mid-scribble. “That sounds like Ora Mae Luker's place. You telling me a little old lady drugged a grown man and held him prisoner?”
Evan reddened. “She's stronger than she looks.”
“What kind of drugs she give you?”
“How should I know? She fed me tea and cakes. Next thing I know, I'm in the shed.”
“Seems odd.” Whitsun gazed over the car at nothing. “Ora Mae's never been in a lick of trouble. Nonetheless, I'll look into it.”
“Evan will be glad to make a statement,” Sassy said. “Won't you, Evan?”
“No, I won't. Law enforcement gives me a rash.”
The sheriff slid the pad back in his pocket. “I've heard that before.”
“I'll be in town a few more hours, Sheriff,” Sassy said. “Come by my lawyer's office. I'll give you a statement. James Marvin, you know him?”
“Yep.”
“Spiffy.” Sassy cranked the engine. “Maybe I'll see you later, then.”
She waved good-bye and guided the sports car back onto the road.
“Rule number one, Lolly,” Evan said, “Never involve the cops in kith business.”
“What's a kith?”
“You are.” Evan crossed his arms. “It's what demonoids call ourselves.”
“Oh. Is the witch kith?”
“She sure as hell ain't no norm,” Evan said. “Ora Mae and I have unfinished business. I don't want any bumbling county mountie getting in my way.”
“I, also, have plans for the witch.” Grim's tone was tight with menace.
“Do not underestimate the sheriff,” Taryn warned. “He is a dangerous man.”
“Oh, pooh,” Sassy said. “Everybody's so serious. Can you believe the witch's name is Ora Mae? That's so
Dukes of Hazzard.
” She threw her head back and laughed. “Do you realize if Daddy Joel hadn't vouched for me, I'd be in jail right now? Isn't that exciting?”
“You wouldn't last a hot second, Lollipop,” Evan said. “They don't have princess suites in county lockup.”
Maybe not, but if the sheriff had thrown me in jail, I wouldn't have to leave Hannah.
Mother-of-pearl, did she want to stay in Hannah that badly?
Yes. More than a sneak preview of the “what's hot and what's not” list for fall.
More than a dozen pairs of new shoes. More than a tube of everlasting, never-drying, never-clumping mascara. More than hair that didn't shed sparkles and resemble a bowl of curly noodles.
More than a mani-pedi and a shopping spree. More than a month off from the pickle factory.
She didn't want to go home. She wanted to stay in Hannah.
Sassy jerked the steering wheel in shock. The car swerved across the yellow line and into the path of an oncoming truck.
The startled driver laid on his horn. Sassy jerked the car back into their lane.

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