Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb (30 page)

“We will discuss the philosophical and moral implications of our ability to your heart's content, if you so desire,” Grim said. “Later. After we depart this place.”

“The car—” Sassy said.

“Leave it. Taryn will see to it.”

Grim took her by the hand. The busy yard swirled and melted in a smear of yellow, red, brown, and green, and Sassy fell into the void. She closed her eyes against the streams of starlight and the gaping blackness. When she opened her eyes, she and Grim were standing in the living room of the river house.

Grim had done it again. Yanked her around in highhanded fashion without consulting her. She was starting to get the itsiest bit annoyed.

She pulled free of his grasp and marched over to the fireplace.

She braced her hands on her hips. “Grim, I love you, but you have
got
to stop bullying me.”

Grim stilled. Then he stepped closer, his expression intent. “What did you say?”

His amber eyes blazed so bright that it hurt to look at them. He was angry. Too bad. She was a person, not a piece of luggage.

She thumped her fist on the front of her coveralls, raising a small cloud of dust. “I said stop bullying me.
Ask
me if I want to go someplace. Don't yank me around without a by-your-leave.”

Grim's big body practically shimmered with tension.

“Before that,” he said. “What did you say before that? Think on it, Sassy. It is most important.”

Sassy frowned. If he'd been listening he'd
know
what she said. She'd said—

Her fingers flew to her mouth.

“Mother-of-pearl,” she whispered.

Grim crossed the space between them in a blur of motion and pulled her into his arms. His woodsy, spicy scent enveloped her, and the combination of his nearness and the realization of what she'd confessed made Sassy light-headed.

Grim tilted her chin. “Say it again, my heart.” Lowering his head, he brushed his mouth against hers. “I would hear it again.”

His heart. He'd called her his heart. Joy bloomed inside Sassy and threatened to overflow.

“I can't,” she said. “I'm still engaged.”

Grim stiffened. Then a smile warmed his ochre gaze. “Still?”

Sassy nodded.

Grim rested his forehead against hers, his muscled chest rising and falling as though he'd run a marathon.

“Thank the gods,” he said. “But for that one word I would despair.”

Meredith materialized on a blast of citrus fragrance. “W-e-l-l, aren't we cozy?”

Grim and Sassy broke apart and turned to meet the ghost. Meredith was wearing a sleek black pencil dress with a round neck and cap sleeves. A white dragon pattern was mirrored, front and back, on the jacquard knit. She balanced, one hip out, on a towering pair of black python and leather heels.

“Does Wesley know you're boning Butt Boy?” Meredith oozed venom.

“I am not—” Sassy shook her head. She refused to dignify such crudity with an answer. “What do you want?”

“I finally got in to see that numb nuts shrink of mine.” Meredith tapped one elegantly shod foot. “He had an interesting theory regarding my recent lapse into congeniality. Leonard Swink, licensed professional counselor to the dead but not quite departed, seems to think
somebody
put the whammy on me.”

She glared at Sassy. “Somebody sweet. Somebody bursting at the seams with sugary goodness. Any idea which treacly twat might have—to paraphrase a hero of mine—dicked with my beautiful wickedness?”

“That would be me,” Sassy said. “You wouldn't stop calling me names.”

“We are so done. You'll pay for this. Nobody messes with me.”

“Piffle,” Sassy said. “This is
my
house. Give me trouble and I'll boot you to the curb.”

Meredith's blue eyes narrowed. “I'd like to see you try, fairy fart. I eat gumdrops like you for breakfast.”

“Is that so? Mess with
me
, Meredith, and I'll dress you in spandex and pleather.”

Meredith gasped. “You wouldn't.”

“Push me, my peep, and see. You'll have beavage, panty lines visible from the moon, and terminal toe hang in your cheap plastic shoes.”

“Bullshit,” Meredith said. “I'm dead. You can't do a damn thing to me.”

“I sweetened your sour, didn't I? Granted, it lasted a hot second, but I did it.”

“It was a fluke. You're bluffing.”

“Really? Okay, you asked for it.”

Raising her hand, Sassy flung a fistful of dusky purple sparkles at the ghost, and Meredith's sexy black pumps were transformed into a pair of black orthopedic old lady lace-ups with thick bottoms.

“My
shoes
,” Meredith shrieked. “What the hell have you done to my shoes?”

“I'm just getting started,” Sassy said. “By the time I'm through with you, you'll have belly cleavage and enough muffin top to make a baker's dozen. For eternity. Still want to chance it?”

“I hate you.” Meredith's face scrunched in a death mask of fury. “I hate your sugar coated guts, you stupid little Pop-Tart.”

“Then haunt someplace else, because I don't like you, either.” Sassy swelled. “I abjure you, Meredith Starr Peterson. You are not welcome here. Leave this place and never return.”

Meredith evaporated with a howl of rage.

 

S
assy clapped her hand over her mouth in shock. Marshmallows. She'd used her fairy cobbler powers to make ugly shoes. That was fifty shades of wrong.

Junior appeared. He looked country club casual in a pair of light gray seersucker pants in a Prince of Wales pattern and a white cotton dress shirt. A black belt and matching loafers completed his outfit.

“Nice work.” He adjusted his buttoned barrel cuffs. “She won't be back.”

“There was nothing nice about it,” Sassy said. “I was mean.”

“Forsooth,” Grim said. “I, for one, am glad she is gone. 'Twas a malignant spirit with an unnatural obsession with my posterior.”

Not unnatural. The man was all kinds of fine. His tush was the first thing Sassy had noticed about him. Hanging upside down over his shoulder at that.

So much had happened. It seemed a lifetime ago.

“She's a raving bitch,” Junior said, nodding in agreement. “She's the reason Trey stays in dog form.” He looked Sassy up and down. “What on earth are you wearing?”

“A coverall. I've been touring the mill.”

“Did they pull you around by a rope? You're covered in dirt and you have wood chips in your hair.”

Blushing, Sassy plucked a shred of wood from her curls.

“There was a mishap at the mill.” Grim's expression was forbidding.

“What?” Junior looked startled. “What happened?”

“A log loader went crazy,” Sassy said. “I think Aunt Susan is responsible. She's in town. She was the buyer for the mill.”

“Why on earth would she want that grimy old mill?” Junior shook his head in wonder. “Aunt Susan's lived all over the world. She'll be bored to tears in Hannah.”

“Daddy issues,” Sassy confided. “She as much as told me she resents your grandfather Cole for playing favorites with her and Blake. She's angry and she wants the mill. I think she staged the recent accidents at the plant to force me to sell.”

“Could be, I guess.” Junior shrugged. “Can't say for sure. She was never around much. Too busy burying a husband or marrying a new one. She married two brothers in succession—Robert and John Gordan. Planted both of them before moving on to Reginald Cherry. What number's she on now?”

“Gordan Gordan Cherry Woody Harwood.” Sassy ticked the names off on her fingers. “Five.”

“Do tell,” Junior said.

The Dalmatian materialized.

“There you are, Trey.” Junior patted the dog on the head. “Good news. Your sister has given Meredith her marching orders. She won't be back.”

The dog wagged his tail and barked.

“Did you know he hangs out at the mill?” Sassy asked Junior. “He was there today. I saw him.”

Junior wagged his finger at the Dalmatian. “Again? How many times have I told you to stay away from that place?”

Trey hung his head and slunk into the ether.

“I'd better go after him.” Junior sighed. “He hates to be scolded.”

Junior vanished.

The front door slammed and Taryn sailed into the living room. The woman moved like she was on wheels. Evan was with her. His expression was sullen, and his hands were jammed in his jeans pockets.

“I found this one walking down the road.” Taryn indicated Evan with a toss of her head. “He is in a foul mood because we did not return for him.”

“His mood is about to get worse.” Grim crossed the room in two strides and slammed Evan against the wall. “You were supposed to stay with Sassy,” he said through his teeth. “Had Dell not warned me, she would be dead.”

“
Grim
. Stop it.” Sassy hurried over and grabbed him by the arm. His muscles were flesh-covered steel. “His eyes are turning black. If he monsters out, there'll be nothing left of the house. I am
not
staying at the Hannah Inn.”

Evan's eyes were black as raisins. “If you were so worried about Sassy, why'd you run off to look for the rogue?”

Grim snarled and tossed Evan to the floor then stalked to the other side of the room.

“Rogue?” Sassy looked from Evan to Grim. “What's he talking about?”

Grim glanced at Taryn. The huntress inclined her head a fraction.

“Arta, the leader of the Kirvahni, sent word by Taryn that one of our brothers has taken up with the enemy.” Grim's mouth tightened. “For the first time in the history of our race, a Dalvahni warrior is foresworn. Conall sounded the alarm among our ranks to find the villain.”

A demon hunter, one with the powers and abilities of the Dalvahni, had gone to the other side? The thought was alarming.

“Did you find him?” Sassy asked.

“Nay,” Grim said. “He is clever, this dastard. He has unleashed the viper of distrust in our midst. One of us is a traitor, though we know not who. Now brother looks upon brother askance and with grievous doubt.” He shook his head. “Never would I have believed such a thing possible. But fear not. He will be caught and there will be a reckoning.”

He gave Sassy a look so hot and primal, so full of promise that she looked down to make certain she hadn't burned to cinders. “But the pleasure of bringing this rogue to justice will have to be another's. You come first from now on. In all things.”

Evan's gaze whipped from Sassy to Grim and back again. “Whoa. Why do I feel like I've missed something?”

Sassy blushed. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“You're a lousy liar, Lollipop.”

“Naturally.” Sassy showed him her dimples. “It's not nice to lie.”

Evan pushed to his feet and rolled his shoulders. Slowly, his eyes faded from black to purple. “Rotten luck the old hag showed up while I wasn't around. Wish I'd been there to help, Red.”

Grim rounded on the huntress. “What is this?”

“The witch accosted us on the road.” Taryn grimaced. “I missed the shot. She got away.”

“Taryn winged her,” Sassy said. “I heard her holler.”

“The old bitch is on the run and injured?” Evan's mouth curled in an unpleasant smile. “Excellent. Things are about to get hotter for her.”

“Meaning?” Grim asked.

“I ran into that sheriff while I was in town.” Evan held his hands up, palms out. “As a general rule, I'm allergic to pork, but I decided to liven things up for Ora.” He showed his teeth in a feral grin. “Told Whitsun if he wanted to solve the Charlie Skinner murder case, he should poke around the Luker place.”

Sassy's eyes widened. “You think the witch killed Charlie Skinner?”

“Know she did,” Evan said. “Ora told me the whole story before she drugged me and threw me in the clink. Said Charlie stole some plant from her. She killed him for it, crazy old bitch. Drowned Charlie in his own moonshine and kept his boots as a souvenir.”

Sassy shivered. The witch made a cruel enemy.

Grim laid his hand on her shoulder and stroked the nape of her neck with his thumb.

“It is well past midday, and you are hungry and weary,” he said. “A bath and a change of clothes should set you to rights. Take your ease whilst I prepare a meal.”

“My new clothes.” Sassy brightened at once. “Yay. I forgot about them.”

“I see you got new kicks, Red.” Evan smirked at the huntress. “Not your usual style, are they?”

“Kicks? I do not—” Taryn got that faraway look in her eyes, the one that meant she was processing. “Ah. You refer to my boots. They are not my doing.”

“Lolly bedazzled you, huh?”

“Yes. I fear they are not appropriate garb for a warrior.” Taryn looked down at the boots with something like regret. “Though they are a trifle garish, I confess that I find myself loath to part with them. I have never received a gift.”

“Never?” Sassy stared at the huntress in astonishment. “Not even for your birthday?”

Taryn shook her head. “Verily, the workmanship is exceptional, and they are agreeable in fit and form. The color, alas, does not suit. I should much prefer it they were black.”

Poof
. The boots went from red to black.

Taryn gave Sassy a startled look. “Did you . . . ?”

Sassy shook her head. “Wasn't me. Cross my heart and hope to die in an ugly dress.”

“Astonishing.” Taryn cleared her throat. “And I am not overly fond of the gewgaws.”

The glitter vanished, although the boots retained a certain luster that bespoke fairy magic.

Tilting her right foot this way and that, Taryn admired her footwear. “Excellent.” Looking much cheered, she motioned to Evan. “Come. You will help me fetch the parcels.”

Evan saluted. “Yes, sir, sergeant ma'am.”

Grinning, he sauntered out the door with Taryn.

Sassy opted for a quick shower instead of a soak in the tub. She towel-dried her hair, letting it fall in natural ringlets, and brushed her teeth. When she came out of the bathroom, the king-sized bed was covered with her purchases. She pawed through the bags until she found panties and a bra—heaven to be wearing her own things—and slipped on a pair of skinny jeans, a fitted white tee, and a pair of barely-there nude sandals with a strap around the ankle and another one across the toes. The shoes had heels, of course; a girl could only go so casual.

A heavenly smell tugged her into the kitchen, and she found Grim standing at the stove. She stopped in the door to admire the view. Holy beefcake, he was glorious. She loved the tough, rugged look of him, the stern expression that belied the tenderness underneath, the way his fiery hair brushed his wide shoulders, the cut and perfection of his muscular body. She loved the protective streak that ran through him a mile wide, his commitment to whatever he set his mind and energy to, his solid good sense and unassailable honor, his sun-gold eyes and deep, mesmerizing voice.

She loved him. She loved his stubbornness and bossy nature, although it drove her to distraction at times. Most of all, she loved who she was with him—more than a pretty face and a perky picker-upper. He made
her
happy, not the other way around. He gave and didn't take. In turn, she wanted to give him joy and laughter, not out of guilt or obligation, but out of love.

He had seen her at her purple whatzit worst and hadn't run the other way. She loved him for that, too. And she ached to sooth the loneliness, grief, and guilt she sensed inside him.

Grim turned as though he sensed her presence.

“Hungry?” He gave her a look that made her breasts tighten.

She nodded, too ravenous to speak, and not for food.

He looked her up and down, taking in her jeans and tee shirt and her skimpy sandals. Heat kindled in his gaze. He liked what he saw, and Sassy liked that. Gracious, she was giddy with desire, and all the man had done was look at her. She wasn't wearing makeup, her nails were peeling and torn, and her hair was damp. Yet he made her feel beautiful.

The air was thick with sexual tension. Her body tingled with awareness. She'd never felt more desirable or alive. If this was a dream, then please, God, let her sleep.

She stepped out of the doorway and crossed the kitchen to the wood and granite island. Grim's gaze on her was a warm caress.

“Do you like my new jeans?” she asked, sliding onto a bar stool.

Her voice sounded husky and her skin glowed with fairy light.

“I should like them better off you,” he said. “Were you mine, I would have you. Here. Now. On this surface you call a counter.”

Oh, my. Sassy's heart skipped a beat, and she clung to the island to keep from falling off the stool. The man had moves, and the look in his eyes made her blood burn.

Evan loped into the kitchen, breaking the spell. And a good thing, too, before she spontaneously combusted.

“Something smells good,” he said. “What's for eats?”

Sassy was hungry, too. It seemed like days since breakfast.

Taryn joined them and they gathered around the table for a late lunch. The food Grim had prepared was simple but good: three fat chickens rubbed in olive oil and roasted with herbs; carrots, onions, and potatoes; and brussels sprouts from the freezer.

Evan turned up his nose at the sprouts, pronouncing them rabbit food. Fresh bread slathered with butter rounded off the feast.

Grim ate a whole chicken and half of another, an entire loaf of bread, and two helpings of veggies. The man could tuck away an astonishing amount of food.

After they finished eating, Taryn disappeared upstairs to take a bath and Evan announced he was going for a walk in the woods.

“And if I happen to run into the witch, so much the better,” he said with an evil grin.

Grim went outside to check on the shield. Sassy was cleaning up after the meal when the house phone rang. The sound startled her. For a smartphone junkie, she'd detoxed quickly. If someone had told her a week ago that she could go for hours, much less days, without her cellular addiction, she wouldn't have believed them.

But here she was, a pickle princess enjoying the simple domesticity of washing dishes, disconnected from the world. No cell, no laptop, no Internet, no television. She didn't miss any of it. Who had time for any of that?

The phone jangled again. Sassy dried her hands and yanked it out of the cradle. Probably Mama, she thought. Clutching the receiver to her chest, she took a deep breath.

“Hello,” she said, bracing for a lecture.

“Miss Peterson?”

“Yes?”

“This is Robin James from the
Hannah Herald.
I heard what happened at Peterson Mill today. I was hoping you'd answer a few questions for the paper.”