Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb

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Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb Page 29

by Lexi George

She wandered farther into the room, the skirts of the gown swishing around her ankles.

  “Grim?”

  She received an answering growl from the trees beyond the folly.

  “Where are you?” Sassy called. “Thank you for this place and the gown. They’re lovely.”

  “Do not thank me. You deserve beauty and fine things. You deserve better than this warrior.”

  “That’s sweet, Grim, but I don’t need gifts.” Sassy peered into the woods. Something large moved among the trees. “I need you.”

  “It pleases me to please you. Should you deign to stay with me, I will shower you with gifts, and you will not say me nay.”

  “Deign to stay with you? Hel-lo. I practically threw myself at you at the motel.”

  “That is because you do not know me.” The growl moved closer. “You do not know the things I have done.”

  A beast stepped out of the trees. It was Grim. Or more precisely, a cruel, fantastic version of him with cloven hooves and a horned head. His topaz eyes burned in his twisted, scarred face. He was clad in black armor. Sharp metal thorns rose from the plates at his massive shoulders and sprang in barbs from his fitted cuisses, bracers, and greaves. A snug black helm sat low on his bulging brow, topped by a bristling metal spine between his horns.

  He was such a fearsome sight that Sassy nearly turned and fled. But this was no monster. This was Grim. She fisted the skirts of her delicate gown and held her ground.

  “Stop it,” she said. “I don’t like this anymore.”

  Grim snarled. “I would have you see me as I am. When Dell showed me your favorite tale a moment ago, I knew the truth at once. You are Beauty and I am the Beast.”

  “Dell’s behind this?” Sassy put her hands on her hips. “Dell should mind his own beeswax. He may know his Yarthac, but he doesn’t know beans about love.”

  “Look at me, Sassy. I would have you know the truth.” Something like desperation crept over Grim’s disfigured face. “The Beast was cursed by a wicked fairy. Grief and hate have been my curse. I have spent untold years consumed by my need for revenge, living by the sword—for the sword.”

  “It’s a story, Grim. You are not the Beast.”

  “I am not worthy of you.”

  “Maybe I’m not worthy of you. Have you thought of that?”

  Grim’s nostrils flared. “Do not say that. Ever. You are wonderful.”

  “So are you.”

  Grim looked ready to explode. “No, I am not. I am a sorry bargain, my love. You could do better.”

  “I see. So you think I should have stayed with Wesley.”

  Grim bared his teeth with a snarl. “No, a thousand times no.”

  “Evan, then?”

  “I do not trust him.”

  “Who, then? Duncan, perhaps?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? He seems like a nice guy and he’s Dalvahni.”

  Grim roared.

  “What?” Sassy widened her eyes. “Is there a supernatural dating website you think I should try? ‘Single fae female seeks male companionship. Werewolves need not apply.’” She gave him an innocent look. “I’m sure werewolves can be perfectly nice, but once a month you’ve got to lock them up or they eat the neighbors. And then there’s the hair. I imagine they shed something awful.”

  Grim scowled. “Do not toy with me, Sassy. This is no laughing matter.”

  “Oh, I agree. I think I know what this is really about. This is about Gryff.”

  Grim’s hulking form stiffened. “Who told you?”

  “Dell.” She inched closer to him. “He seems to think you blame yourself for Gryff’s death.”

  “I am responsible.” Grim looked away. “Had I returned to camp as I should have, Gryff would be alive.”

  “Tell me what happened. Please.”

  Grim’s marred face twisted and for a moment, Sassy feared he would not speak. When, at last, the words tumbled out, his voice was a rusty grate.

  “We . . . were in the mountains of Telthar Dune,” he said. “The djegrali had ravaged a nearby village. We caught and slew a dozen of the demons. The rest fled into the hinterland. We gave pursuit. They led us a weary chase, but we caught them and dispatched them like the others.” Grim raised a gnarled, gloved hand to his brow. He was shaking. “We were weary and decided to make camp by a river. I left Gryff to tend to the fire while I went in search of something to eat. My . . . special gift made me the better hunter, you see.”

  He stopped.

  “Special gift?” Sassy asked softly.

  “I can merge with animals and our senses become one. I mind-melded with an eagle—the eagles of Telthar Dune are big as dragons. Together, the eagle and I brought down a large buck.”

  He fell silent again.

  “Go on,” Sassy urged. “What happened?”

  “I gutted and dressed the deer and hung it in a tree,” Grim said. “Then I went wind-riding again.”

  “You rode the eagle?”

  Sassy’s imagination soared, picturing Grim sailing through the air on the giant eagle.

  “Nay, better. I was the eagle. We were joined, mind to mind. Flying is . . . like nothing else. I lost track of time. When I returned to camp I found blood and a large number of ogre tracks. Gryff’s sword lay in pieces on the ground.”

  Sassy held her breath, picturing the gruesome scene and Grim’s despair. “And Gryff?”

  “The Dalvahni are hard to kill, but we die if beheaded.” His shoulders slumped. “I . . . found Gryff’s head at the water’s edge. His dragon scale necklace was lying in the muck. His body I never recovered.”

  Grim’s eyes grew distant. “I burned what was left of him and went in search of the ogres. It took me days to find them in the mountains, but I hunted them down and killed them. Their leader was one of the morkyn, the most powerful caste of demon. I saved the djegrali for last and slew him. Slowly. I have not ridden the wind since.”

  “As punishment? It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Yes, it was.” He threw back his head with an anguished roar. “My selfishness killed Gryff. Together, we were formidable. If I had not tarried, he would be alive.”

  “Or you both could have been killed.”

  “But Gryff—”

  “Would want you to be happy. If things were different and you had died . . .” Sassy faltered at the unthinkable words. “If you had d-died, would you want Gryff to be unhappy for squillions of years?”

  “Three thousand,” Grim said. “Gryff died over three thousand years ago.”

  Sassy blinked. “O-k-a-y. Three thousand years. Would you want Gryff to be miserable that long?”

  “Of course not.”

  “According to Mose, now that I’ve been fairyfied, I’m pretty much immortal. Do you want me to be miserable for an eternity?”

  “I would die to keep you from being hurt.”

  Sassy smiled. “Well, there you go.”

  She reached up and untied the ribbons at her left shoulder, then the ribbons on her right. The gauzy fabric clung to the curves of her breasts. The slightest wiggle and the whole thing would slide off.

  Grim’s yellow eyes flared, and his mask of ugliness dimmed. “What are you doing?”

  “My goodness, Grim, isn’t it obvious? I’m trying to seduce you.”

  “Sassy, I warn you, do not—”

  Sassy shrugged. The gown slithered to the floor and pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but the dragon scale necklace Grim had given her.

  The beast’s form wavered and blew away like smoke, and Grim stood there, chest heaving and dressed in street clothes once more. His hard body was tensed as though ready for battle.

  “Sweet blessed Kehv, woman, I am trying to do the right thing, but a warrior can take but so much.” Grim stared at her. The look in his eyes made Sassy shiver. “Cover yourself.”

  Sassy kicked the dress aside. “No. Now you listen to me, Grim Dalvahni. You are not the Beast and I’m not Beauty. I’m Sassy Peterson. Part demon
, part human, part fae, and a real stem winder of a bitch when I don’t get dessert. I’m going to have bad hair days—”

  “I adore your hair.” Grim swallowed. His voice was husky. “I adore everything about you.”

  “And times when I’m cranky and times when I’m sad.” Sassy rushed on. “And I’m looking forward to it, because that’s something I’ve been denied.”

  She went to him then, blinking back tears, and cupped his beloved face in her hands.

  “Don’t you see? I’ve been bubble-wrapped and vacuum-sealed my whole life. I’ve spent the past twenty-five years trying to please others, denying my own feelings to keep the peace. It’s a kind of cowardice, I’ve come to realize.”

  “You are not a coward,” Grim protested. “You are brave and kind and good.”

  “Mother-of-pearl, I’m a paragon. How can you resist me?”

  “I cannot. You know I cannot.”

  “Then don’t,” Sassy said. “Make Gryff’s death count for something. Be happy. If he loved you, I think he’d want that.” She gave him a misty smile. “Be happy, Grim. With me.”

  He pulled her into his arms with a groan. “Ah, Sassy, I am lost without you. Without you, I am—”

  She placed her finger to his lips, stilling the flow of words.

  “I’m naked here, mister. Too much talk and not enough action.”

  Laughter chased the shadows from Grim’s eyes. “Grievance noted.”

  He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

  Evan jogged away from the house and plunged into the forest in search of the witch. His blood was up and he needed to run. Ora’s vittles had juiced him plenty, and the change seemed to be permanent. He slept in snatches now and found it hard to keep still for any length of time.

  Especially when he was angry.

  Something was up between Sassy and Grim. The sexual tension between them was off the charts. The way they looked at one another made his insides twist. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d lost someone he cared about to a demon hunter. His twin sister Beck and now Sassy. Damn Dalvahni. Bunch of slack-jawed numb nut troglodytes, but the dames loved ’em.

  Sassy, apparently, was no exception. Unless he did something and fast, he was going to lose her. His plans for world Sassination would be screwed.

  He’d show Sassy who was the Man. Find the witch and kill her, haul her bony carcass back, and toss it at Sassy’s dainty little feet.

  Booyah. Evan dunks Grim’s slow ass and wins the girl. The thought of besting Grim made Evan grin.

  He ran off the worst of his irritation and changed to his favorite shifter form, a rangy bluetick coonhound. Maybe not the sexiest go-to wereanimal but damn useful. His hound could smell a flea fart. If the witch was around, his nose would find her. She couldn’t go home, not with the sheriff on to her. Couldn’t show her ugly mug in public without causing a stampede. Logic told him the witch would hide out in the woods.

  He loped along, his sense receptors twitching at the smorgasbord of smells in the forest. Chemical signals shot to his olfactory bulb, creating odor images in his mind sharper than a photograph. He smelled mulch and pine needles, rotted wood, the dry dusty smell of fallen leaves, the pungent scent of new growth, and a variety of intriguing animal scents—squirrel, vole, bird, rabbit, possum, and raccoon, to name a few. He was nose drunk, but there was no sign of the witch.

  Miles into the woods his senses lit up. Magic on the breeze; the tangy, peppery smell was unmistakable. He bayed and took off. That damn witch had cast her last spell. She was dead meat.

  Nose up to catch the scent particles on the wind, he ran. God, he loved the chase. His lean hound body could keep this ground-eating pace for miles. He’d seldom gotten to run during the long years with the ’rents. They’d kept him close and on the leash.

  He could run now. Forever, if he wanted to. When he was running, he could forget.

  Silent now, so the witch wouldn’t sense his presence, he padded across the leafy carpet. His nose tingled at the odor of spell craft. He paused, sniffing in quick jerks. He didn’t smell witch.

  He smelled Dalvahni and—what the hell?—roses, a shit ton of them.

  He crept closer, lifting one paw and then another so as not to make a sound. Easing through the underbrush, he spotted a small glade. In the glade was an open pavilion with a glass roof and graceful, fluted columns. And flowers out the wazoo and a bed big as a Cadillac and twice as wide, and a sparkling stair winding to some kind of fancy-schmancy couch parked next to a bookcase full of books.

  Standing in the middle of this Disney mind fuck was Sassy, dolled up in a gauzy princess dress.

  And Grim, dressed as the Beast.

  Evan was so startled he shifted to human form without thinking. Son of a bitch. Grim had whisked Sassy into the woods and dazzled her with this lame-o fairy-tale bullshit.

  And the Lollipop was eating it up.

  Evan clenched his hands at his sides. If anyone was the Beast, it was him, not Grim. For reals.

  Who morphed into a monster when he got pissed?

  Evan Beck; that’s frigging who.

  Who had a tortured past?

  The Evster.

  Who’d been misjudged, mistreated, and misunderstood? Crapped on by the universe since day one?

  Same answer.

  Who was for damn sure way past due for a break?

  He was. He was. He was.

  Who got the girl?

  Grim.

  Oh, hell, no.

  Evan lunged forward and smacked into a wall. Zzzt, the barrier crackled. Stung, Evan landed on his ass, slapping at his burning skin. Grim, the sneaky bastard, had put up a magical shield. Evan couldn’t do a damn thing to stop what was going on.

  And something was going on, all right. Big-time.

  Sassy dropped her dress. Evan caught a tantalizing glimpse of her luscious backside and the shield went opaque.

  “What the—” Evan sprang to his feet. “Who turned off the lights?”

  Grim no doubt sensed our presence and darkened the shield for privacy. A forlorn voice spoke inside Evan’s head. Just as well. I gave Sassy my word I would not peek. There was a heavy sigh. I have a keen curiosity regarding the emotional component of intercourse. I confess I might well have been tempted to break my promise. Strictly on scientific grounds, you understand.

  “Who the—” Evan spun around. “Who’s there? Out of the bushes, asshole.”

  No need for alarm. I am Dell, formerly known as the Provider.

  “The what?”

  I am an information source for Grim. The Dalvahni have access to limitless knowledge. It is how they traverse the various dimensions in search of the djegrali.

  “Oh, yeah?” Evan edged away from the glade, his gaze darting this way and that, senses sharp. “Where are you? Show yourself.”

  I have no form per se. In point of fact, I do not exist as far as the rest of the Dalvahni are concerned. To them, I am but a service, a function to aid them in the hunt.

  “Then how come I can hear you?”

  We are speaking mind to mind.

  “No shit? You talk to everyone like this—uh, Dell, was it?”

  No. I interact with Grim and Sassy and, upon the rare occasion, Kehvahn, the god of the Dalvahni. And now you, of course. No one else. In truth, I should not be speaking to you. Dell sounded glum. Grim would not approve.

  “Nah, it’s cool. Don’t sweat it.”

  Thank you. For some inexplicable reason, I feel the need for company.

  “You and the Big Guy close?”

  He brought me into consciousness. We have been boon companions lo these many years.

  “And now Sassy and Grim are a thing, and the bromance is dead.” Evan’s agile mind began to whir, weighing this option and that. “I know what it feels like to be on the outside looking in. It sucks dirty ass.”

  There was a pause, as though Dell were digesting his remark.

  Grim and Conall are wrong about you. There
is kindness within you, and great potential.

  “That’s me—a regular Boy Scout. Listen, Dell, a connected guy like you should be careful. There are a lot of jerks out there. Somebody could take advantage.”

  Somebody like me. Evan smirked. Grim could have Sassy. She was too high maintenance. Look at the trouble she’d gotten into in a matter of days.

  He had something better. He had a freaking all-knowing invisible computer. With Dell’s help, he’d own Vegas.

  No, New York. Why think chickenshit? He’d own the world.

  Truly? Dell sounded uncertain. I confess I do not see how.

  “That’s ’cause you ain’t street smart like me.” Evan smiled. “Not to worry. Old Ev’s gotcha back. Now about this data bank of yours . . .”

  Evan jumped as Taryn materialized in front of him.

  “Jeez,” Evan said. “You should ring a bell or something. You scared the crap out of me. What are you doing here?”

  “I was looking for Grim and Sassy,” Taryn said. “I know from experience that Grim favors this part of the wood. I thought I might find them here. What are you about?”

  Evan shifted his feet. “I was hunting the witch. The sheriff said her place is deserted. Thought she might be hiding out here.”

  “Did you find her?”

  “No.”

  “Then who were you speaking to?”

  “Myself, Miss Nosy Britches,” Evan said. “I talk to myself sometimes, okay?”

  Taryn cocked a brow at his tone. “You sound more churlish than usual. Is something amiss?”

  “Nah. I’m fine as frog hair. You can forget about finding Grim and Sassy, though. They’re busy.”

  “I have come to say good-bye. ’Twill take but a moment of their time.”

  “You aren’t listening, Red. They’re together.” He rocked his pelvis back and forth to illustrate. “Get the picture?”

  Taryn flushed. “Oh. I see. In that case, I will not disturb them.”

  Ha! That had cracked her Ice Bitch façade.

  Evan grinned. “Good idea. So, where you headed?”

  Taryn hesitated. “I suppose it matters not if I tell you.” She drew herself up to her full height. “After much contemplation, Conall has wisely decided to charge one who is not Dalvahni with the business of tracking down and disposing of the rogue demon hunter. I have been tasked with this duty.”

 

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