Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb (25 page)

Grim groaned. “Conall—by the sword. I was to deliver you to him today. I have failed to comply with a direct order.”

“Conall can kiss my ass. I'm not a package to be delivered.”

As though summoned, Captain Asswipe materialized on a rush of arctic air. Evan hated the cold. Growing up, he'd frozen his nuts off until he got old enough to steal some threads.

“Brother.” Conall gave Grim a nod of greeting.

Evan got nada because he was the incredible, invisible demonoid.

“The hour grows late.” Conall arched a black brow at Grim. “I grew concerned when you did not report to me.”

“My apologies, Captain. Much has happened this day.”

“I heard there was an incident in town this morning. Is Sassy recovered?”

“She is currently abed. One of the Kirvahni is with her, a huntress named Taryn.”

“What brings a Kir to Hannah?”

“She desires a word with you. She is most insistent.”

“Such is their nature.” Conall glanced at Evan, his black eyes hard. “Rebekah bids you greeting. In spite of your treachery, her tender heart is filled with concern for you.”

Rebekah Damian Dalvahni was about as tender as a water buffalo. She'd single-handedly killed Elgdrek and sucked Hagilth out of a teenage girl's body. Then she'd trapped the wraith in a bottle of hot sauce.

Turns out demons are allergic to hot sauce, a fun little fact his twin discovered.

Every time Evan got near Beck, his
tenderhearted
sister shook the container. The hot sauce scalded Hagilth. Since Evan was bound to the demon, it scalded him, too.

That shit
burned.

Another warrior appeared. Another sonsabitching Dalvahni. What was this, a demon hunter convention?

“Who are you?” Evan demanded.

“This is Duncan,” Grim said. “He has a score to settle with the witch.”

“Get in line,” Evan said. “She's mine.”

Duncan flashed a set of Hollywood white teeth. “Only if you get to her first.”

“We have much to discuss.” Conall addressed Grim. “Shall we meet on the morrow, brother?”

“Of a certainty.”

“Good. Come to the dunes on the outskirts of town at sunrise. Know you it?”

“I know where it is,” Evan said. “I can show him.”

“Excellent,” Conall said.

He disappeared. The warrior named Duncan vanished as well. Good riddance. Demon hunters gave Evan hives.

Tires sounded on the drive and a brown BMW came to a stop in front of the house. A barnyard brown Beamer. What nimrod forked out money on a car the color of cow shit?

The driver's door opened and a norm got out. The man wore pink cargos, a starched button-down shirt, loafers, and a perfect tan, the kind you get from leisure, not work. Every strand of his sun-streaked hair was in place. He came around the car and opened the passenger door, and a plump thirtysomething woman in a pantsuit slid out. The name tag on her jacket said
Dab Holt—Florala Realty.

The nimrod turned and gave them the once-over. “Clients of yours, Ms. Holt?”

The norm's moneyed Southern drawl made Evan's teeth hurt.

The woman looked flustered. “No. I've never seen them in my life.”

“Stay here. I'll take of this.” The nimrod strolled over. “This is private property. You're trespassing. Leave before I call the police.”

“Call the police, asshat,” Evan said. “We're friends of the owner.”

The nimrod shot the woman standing by the car an I-told-you-so look.

“This is exactly the sort of thing I've been talking about,” he said. “Who
are
these people? Sometimes, Sassy can be such a child.”

Evan opened his mouth to tell the guy off. Too late. Grim grabbed the norm by the shirt and lifted him in the air.

The man's shirt rode up, exposing his soft belly. There was a red welt around his midsection. Someone was too big for his little pink britches.

“Insolent pup, you will not speak of Sassy in such a tone.” Grim shook the guy like a pom-pom. “State your name and business at once.”

“Wesley Bodiford, Sassy's fiancé.” The nimrod was red in the face. “I've come to take her home.”

S
assy examined the berries in her palm. They seemed harmless, but she'd read enough myths and fairy tales to be wary of gifts from strangers, especially the gods. Look what happened to poor Midas.

Still . . . The thought of being confined to bed for a month was horrid. She had things to do. Cancel the wedding, for one.

Sassy swallowed the knot in her throat. The social implications of ending her engagement would be huge.

There would be Talk. Mama hated Talk.

Easier to toss the berries in the trash and slink back home with her tail between her legs. Let her parents cosset her back to health. Do what was expected of her. Become Mrs. Wesley Eugene Bodiford.

Never see Grim again.

A shroud of lead settled over Sassy. Tears pricked her eyes. She gripped the edge of the comforter like a lifeline.

Sassy wiped her eyes.
Dell? Why are you talking so funny?

Dell was silent.
I, too, suffer from melancholia now the tale is done.

Sassy chuckled.
Yes, but it's worth it.

The phone beside the bed rang. The dog sprang to his feet and Taryn leaped across the room in a single bound, landing on top of the bed light-footed as a cat. Bow drawn and arrow at the ready, Taryn faced the door, poised to do battle on Sassy's behalf.

“A warning bell.” Taryn's slim body quivered with tension. “Know you who attacks?”

“No one.” Sassy struggled not to smile. “The telephone is ringing.”

Taryn's lovely gray eyes went unfocused.

“I see,” she said after a moment's pause. “It is a communication device of some sort.” She gave the Dalmatian an accusatory glare. “You could have told me.”

The dog barked and disappeared.

Lowering her weapon, the huntress jumped lightly to the floor. She whirled around as the phone trilled again.

“Must it make that annoying noise?”

“That's how you know someone is calling.” Sassy reached for the receiver. “Probably that nice repairman checking to make sure the phone is working.”

The phone rang again and Sassy picked up. “Hello?”

“Sassy, why aren't you home?”

Sassy bobbled the phone in surprise. “Mama, how did you know where to find me?”

“Your stepfather called Sheriff What's-His-Name. I'm disappointed in you, Sassy. Your stepfather and I have been out of our minds. How could you be so thoughtless and selfish?”

Mama was using the Tone. The one that screamed displeasure and reproach. The tone that made Sassy cringe. Rattled, Sassy popped a berry in her mouth and chewed.

At once, the imp with the jackhammer stopped drilling a hole in her brain, and Sassy's nausea eased. She felt more like her old self.

Better than her old self. She felt stronger;
sassier
.

Wow. Sildhjort's wellberries were the best.

“I'm sorry you were worried, Mama.” Sassy's tone was crisp. “I had car trouble.”

“I should never have let you go to Hannah alone. Wes is on his way to bring you home now.”

Sassy's hand tightened around the receiver. “Let me go, Mama. Goodness gracious grandma, I'm twenty-five years old, not a runaway, recalcitrant teenager.”

“Then stop acting like one. You have responsibilities to the gift shop and your family.”

“I have responsibilities here.” Taking a fortifying breath, Sassy dropped the bombshell. “I've decided not to sell the mill. I'm staying in Hannah.”

There, she'd said it. Evan was right. She did have balls, big sparkly ones.

“Out of the question,” Mama said. “I need you at the gift shop.”

“The gift shop can practically run itself. Mary Ellen is well trained.”

“I won't allow you to stay in that dreadful place.”

“I like Hannah. It's time I lived my own life.”

“Your life is in Fairhope with us and Wesley. You can't expect him to give up his job, his connections, and his family to live in a backwoods town.”

Wesley. Oh, dear, Mama was going to have a kitten. Sassy ate the last two berries for courage.

“There's not going to be a wedding. I've decided Wesley and I don't suit.”

Mama gasped. “Sarah Elizabeth Peterson, have you lost your mind?”

“Maybe.” Everyone in Fairhope would certainly think so. Wesley came from an old, moneyed family. He was considered a catch. “If I have, bring on the crazy.”

“I can't talk to you when you're like this.”

“I can't talk, either. I've got to go shopping. What does one wear to a mill anyway? I'm thinking businesslike but not too stuffy.”

“Sassy, my nerves.” Mama's voice grew thin. “I feel one of my headaches coming on.”

Mama's migraines were the reason Sassy hadn't dated much in high school. Or gone to spend-the-night parties, bonfires, or football games.

Mama's headaches were the reason Sassy still lived at home.

“Poor Mama. Take two Anacin and lie down in a dark room.”

“I can't believe you're behaving like this.” Mama's voice sounded surprisingly stronger. “It's to be hoped Wesley can talk some sense into you. He's a steady young man.”

“Bye, Mama. I love you to the moon and back. Tell Daddy Joel I love him, too.”

Sassy hung up the phone. She was shocked by her temerity. Holy smokaroonies, what had happened?

“Sassy, are you well?”

Taryn's brows were knitted in concern. Her bow and arrow were gone. Where did she keep them, Sassy wondered, an invisible zip lock?

“I told my mom I'm not coming home.”

“I heard.”

“And that I'm not marrying Wesley.”

“This I also heard.”

“I said no to my mother.” Sassy gazed at her empty palm. “It was the berries. They were magic.”

“Your mettle came from within, not from without.”

Sassy gave the huntress a shy smile. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

“I almost didn't eat them because—you know—Sildhjort
is
a god. Mose is a darling little man, but I hardly know him.”

“ ‘Darling' is not a word I would use to describe him,” Taryn said.

“Don't tell Mose what I said. It might hurt his feelings.”

“Worry not,” Taryn said. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Pinkie swear?”

Sassy crooked her little finger and held out her hand.

Taryn drew herself up. “One does not challenge the honor of the Kirvahni.”

“Oh, pooh, you sound like Grim.”

“First you doubt my honor. Now you insult me.”

“Don't be stuffy. I didn't mean to offend you.”

“Doubtless you are right,” Taryn said. “Your buoyancy can, at times, be irritating in the extreme, and your optimism borders on foolish. I cannot say, however, that you are unkind.”

Sassy beamed. “Thanks. I like you, too. Friends?”

The huntress locked pinkie fingers with Sassy.

“Friends.”

“Oh, goody.” Sassy bounced on the mattress. “This is going to be
fun.
We girls need to stick together. We're outnumbered around here.”

Meredith appeared on a
whoosh
of perfume. “Better shag your butt out of bed, boo. Your boyfriend's here.”

“Wesley?” Sassy groaned. “So soon?”

“Yep. You're dating a pudgy version of Trey, my peep. It's so
Flowers in the Attic
.”

Sassy wrinkled her nose. “Now that you mention it, there is a resemblance.”

“He's got that Realtor with him, the one who's trying to sell the house.” Meredith's pink mouth formed a moue of distaste. “Chubby chick needs to push away from the table.”

Sassy climbed out of bed. “Beauty comes in many shapes and sizes, Meredith.”

“You are such a little ray of sunshine. Don't you ever get tired of blowing rainbows and Skittles out your ass?”

“No, Miss Crabby Pants.”

“That the best you got?” Meredith propped her hands on her hips. “Go on. Say something mean. I dare you.”

“I'm not mean and I don't curse.” Sassy paused. “Well, I
do
say ‘bunny rabbits' and ‘mother-of-pearl.' And ‘marshmallows.' Sometimes, when I'm really, really upset I say ‘shiitake mushrooms.' ”

“Pathetic. Remind me again why we're friends?”

“I guess we fill each other's spaces.”

“Barf,” Meredith said. “I think I'll make an appointment to see my shrink. Maybe he can figure out why I'm hanging around such a lame-o. 'Course, he's a lame-o, too. So the odds are for shit.”

She evaporated in a cloud of scent.

So much for the shot of vitamin nice Sassy had given Meredith.

A door slammed in another part of the house.

“Hark,” Taryn said. “We have company.”

Sassy heard raised voices in the foyer. Make that one voice, Southern and familiar.

“That's Wes.” Sassy grabbed Trey's robe off the foot of the bed and slipped it over her tee shirt. “Meredith makes a darn good alarm ghost.”

Sassy tied the sash around her waist and exited the bedroom. Taryn followed.

Wes stood inside the front door. He appeared flustered. His sun-streaked hair stood on end, and his shirttail was hanging out.

“—charge you with assault and kidnapping,” Wes shouted at Grim. “Where's Sassy? I know she's here.”

“Behold Grim's face.” Taryn said in Sassy's ear. “Your Wesley is in the kill zone.”

Kill zone, indeed. Arms folded, Grim faced Wes letting the smaller man's tirade wash over him, his warrior's face impassive. The air around was charged with testosterone.

Dab Holt, Sassy's Realtor, stood beside Wes. Her plump face was pale, and her startled gaze rolled from male to male.

“So help me,” Wes said, “if you don't tell me where she is, I'll—”

Evan's sensuous mouth curled in a sneer. “You'll what? Throw money at him and paper cut him to death?”

“Shut up, white trash.” Wes shot Evan a look of contempt. “They wouldn't let you park cars at the club with those piercings.” He tried to peer around Grim. “
Sassy
. Where the hell are you?”

Sassy felt a flicker of annoyance. She was fine. No need for dramatics. No need to be rude.

Evan was not white trash. He was her friend.

She stepped into the entrance hall. “My goodness, I'm right here. There's no need to bellow like Stanley Kowalski.”

Four heads turned at her voice.

Grim uncrossed his arms, his handsome face set in deep lines of disapproval. “Sassy, this creature claims to be your Wesley. Is it true?”

“Yes. This is Wesley Bodiford.” Sassy flushed. “My . . . um . . . fiancé.”

Wes shoved his shirttail back in his shorts. “Who are these people, Sassy? And what are they doing here?”

“These are my friends, Grim and Evan.” Sassy linked arms with Taryn. “And this is Taryn.”

“Friends?” Wes jerked his chin at Grim. “This overgrown gorilla roughed me up. As for his running buddy, he looks like a drug dealer.” He looked Sassy up and down, his blue eyes narrowed. “Why are you wearing that filthy bathrobe and what the hell happened to your hair?”

Sassy tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “I . . . um . . . sort of got a perm.” Perm as in permanent. “Do you like it?”

“You look like the north end of a southbound mule. What's next, a tube top and Daisy Dukes?”

Sassy stiffened. “I know you're upset, Wesley, but there's no need to be boorish.”

Wes raked his hand through his hair. “Damn straight I'm upset. What the hell am I supposed to think? You went missing—drove everybody nuts—and I find you shacked up with two men and a strange woman. I'm shocked, Sassy, to say the least.”

Grim growled. “Guard your tongue when you speak to the lady, upstart, or lose it.”

“Thank you, Grim. I can handle this.” Sassy laid a soothing hand on Wes's arm. “I know it looks peculiar, but it's not what you think. I had car trouble yesterday. Grim and Evan came to my rescue.”

Wes jerked away. “Fine. Say thank you and good-bye. We're leaving.”

“I'm afraid that's not possible. I've decided not to sell the mill. I'm staying in Hannah for a while.”