Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb

by Lexi George

  Mama lifted her tear ravaged face. “Safe? She’s broken off her engagement with a man from a good family to marry a complete stranger. Who are his people? How will he support her?” She slammed her fist against her knee. “If you had taken her into custody like I asked you to, none of this would have happened.”

  “Custody?” Sassy’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I needed you at home, away from this place and its influence.” Mama swiped at her wet cheeks. “I was right. Look what’s happened. You’ve ruined everything. Who knows what it will take for Joel and me to sort this out.”

  “I don’t need sorting, Mama.” She gave Whitsun a tight smile. “Thank you for your time, Sheriff. As you can see, I’m fine.”

  “Not a problem.” Whitsun nodded at Mama. “Ma’am.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Evan said. “Want to have a word with you about that little matter we discussed.”

  “You mean Charlie Skinner? Step outside. I’ll tell you what I’ve found.”

  Evan slapped Grim on the shoulder. “You might want to tag along, Big ’Un. This is about you-know-who.”

  He was talking about the witch, and Grim knew it. His hard, muscular body tensed in anticipation. He was a predator on the scent.

  He glanced from Sassy to her mother. “Sassy?”

  “It’s okay. Mama and I need a moment alone.”

  Grim hesitated. “You are certain?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  The men strode from the room, three lethal males on a mission.

  The front door closed behind them. Tamping down her dread at the coming scene, Sassy faced her mother. Mama’s face was wan, her makeup smeared. She looked wilted and fragile.

  In spite of her annoyance at her mother’s highhanded manner, Sassy felt sorry for her. This sudden burst of independence from her once malleable daughter must be bewildering.

  Sassy’s resolve weakened. This was going to be harder than she’d thought.

  “Hello?” Sassy looked around. “I could use a little help here.”

  Junior and the Dalmatian appeared on a gust of cold air.

  Mama lifted her head at the sudden drop in temperature. She saw the ghosts and went pale.

  “Mama.” Sassy squared her shoulders. “This is an intervention.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Eleanor staggered to her feet and grabbed the back of the chair for support. “Juke. Oh, my God, Juke.”

  She turned on Sassy. “See what you’ve done? I’m seeing things.”

  “Stop fussing and sit down, Ellie,” Junior said. “I’m a ghost, not a product of your nerves.”

  Ellie? Nobody referred to Eleanor Champion by a diminutive, not even Daddy Joel. But Junior had done so, and without demur from Mama.

  Guess death had its privileges.

  Mama sank back into her chair, her face devoid of color. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

  “Really, Ellie? After the things you’ve seen, you can say that?”

  “I want to believe. God knows I’ve missed you, Juke. But why now? Why here?”

  “Hannah, my darling. Like it or not, it’s a special place.”

  “Hannah.” Mama stared at Junior with a naked longing that made Sassy squirm. “I should have known.”

  Bunny rabbits, this was awkward.

  Sassy cleared her throat. “Juke?”

  “Your mother’s pet name for me.” Junior’s gaze remained fixed on Mama. “It was our little in-joke. I was a classically trained pianist, you see, and your mother loved to dance. She liked to tease me. Said I played Old Dead People music.”

  “I haven’t danced since you died.”

  “The chicken tender king doesn’t dance?”

  “Don’t make fun of Joel. He’s a good man. A little rough around the edges, perhaps, but a good man. He’s made Sassy a wonderful father.”

  “I’m Sassy’s father.” Junior gave Mama a smile of profound sadness. “You should have told her about me. You should have told her about herself. It wasn’t fair to keep her in the dark.”

  “What was I supposed to do, tell our child she comes from monsters? I did what I had to do to protect her.”

  “You were protecting yourself.” Junior held up his hand as Mama started to protest. “I don’t blame you for running, but at least be honest about it.”

  Sassy looked at her parents in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”

  “My father thought I was weak because of my music,” Junior said. “He wanted an heir who hunted and fished, a man’s man. He threw me into the saw at the mill. Made Trey watch. He was eight years old.”

  “Fran?” Sassy stared at the ghost in sick horror. “He fed you to Fran in front of Trey?”

  No wonder Junior refused to talk about his death.

  No wonder Trey haunted the mill.

  “Stop it.” Mama covered her ears. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Sassy has a right to know.” Junior turned to Sassy. “Your mother was pregnant with you when I died. My father wanted Trey to himself without ‘womanly’ interference. He blamed my shortcomings on my mother’s influence, you see. He offered Ellie money, but that didn’t fly. Ellie had money of her own.”

  Of course she did. Eleanor Jerkins came from pickle royalty.

  “My father showed Ellie what he was,” Junior continued. “He started by making himself invisible—a little trick of his. Ellie had no idea demons and demonoids existed. I’d kept it from her, you see.”

  A deep shiver racked Mama’s body. “I was terrified.”

  “Your grandfather liked to kill things.” Junior stared into space. “Animals, women, his own son—didn’t matter. His talent made it easy to sneak up on his victims.” He shrugged. “He dragged your mother along on a kill and made her watch. And then he told her how he’d killed me. Said he’d do the same to her and Trey—or worse—if she stayed. She ran.”

  “You left Trey with that . . . that thing, knowing what he was?” Sassy stared at her mother in disbelief. “How could you?”

  “I tried to get your brother to leave with me, but he refused,” Mama cried. “He pitched a fit to stay in Hannah with Blake and Clarice. He didn’t want to leave his school, his friends. Trey didn’t tell me he’d seen your father murdered. How was I to know?”

  “My father was a cruel and devious man,” Junior said. “He played you and Trey against each other, Ellie. Trey was terrified of Blake. Blake threatened to kill you if Trey left. He stayed to protect you.”

  “No.” Mama wrung her hands. “Oh, my God, what have I done? Get him, Juke. Bring him to me. I need to see him. I need to tell him how sorry I am.”

  “He’s here, Ellie.”

  Mama looked around in confusion. “Where?”

  “The dog.” Sassy pointed to the Dalmatian. “Trey’s a dog, Mama.”

  “A dog? H-he’s a dog?”

  “’Fraid so,” Junior said. “Prefers this form. Partly because it annoys Meredith, but also because he was a dog when the car hit him.”

  “A-a dog?” Mama repeated. “Our son is a dog?”

  “Yep,” Junior said. “Good thing he was able to return to his human form before he died. Some demonoids aren’t so lucky. Shifter died last year as a horse, and the family had to bury him in the yard with a backhoe.”

  Mama swayed. “I hate this town. I really hate this town.”

  With a sigh, she slid off the chair in a faint.

  Grim accompanied Evan and the sheriff outside. It was midday, and the azure sky was wisped with clouds, the air redolent with the scents of river and trees. High above, a hawk circled on the breeze.

  For the first time since Gryff’s death, Grim was tempted to join the bird in flight. The heavy weight of guilt that had kept him earthbound lo these many years was gone. Sassy had freed him from his prison of sorrow and self-reproach. She had turned him from the path of vengeance. Given him a reason to live.

  And, oh, what a reason. She filled him up, contented
and soothed him, lightened the dark places in his soul. At the same time, she roused his passions like no other, stirred his protective instincts, and kept him on the edge of lust and laughter.

  “What news of the witch?” he asked.

  Whitsun removed his sunglasses and tucked them into the pocket of his shirt. His gray gaze was sharp. This man missed very little. Ebon of hair like Conall, the sheriff wore his hair clipped short. His body was lean and fit, Grim noted with approval. Whitsun was a warrior, with a quiet air of assurance and authority that Grim liked.

  Determined. Purposeful. Ruthlessly dangerous.

  Whitsun would be a good man in a fight.

  “Drove out to her place and she was gone,” Whitsun said. “Place was in shambles. No shed. No greenhouses. House was falling down and the plants and shrubs were dried up. Whole place is a dead zone. I poked around a bit. Didn’t find anything. From the looks of it, no one’s lived there in years.”

  Grim raised his brows at Evan.

  The demonoid shrugged. “That so? Guess the old biddy’s cut and run. Thanks for checking it out anyway.”

  “Oh, I’m not done.” Whitsun’s voice was lethally soft. “I was on the river two weeks ago. Went by Ora Mae’s place and it was fine. House in good repair. Everything well maintained. Real showplace. A house doesn’t fall to pieces overnight.”

  He tapped his nose. “Something’s not right and I mean to find out what. Put a BOLO on Miz Luker. Got a few questions for her. If she killed Charlie Skinner, I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  The box squawked at Whitsun’s hip.

  He answered it. “Yeah? On my way.”

  He pushed a button and stuck the device back on his belt.

  “Gotta go. Domestic out on County Road 29.” Whitsun paused. “One more thing. I did some checking on Ora Mae. Near as I can tell, she showed up in Hannah fifty years ago. No record of her before that. No family. No financial history. Zip. It’s like she didn’t exist before 1965. Thought that was interesting.”

  He climbed into his automobile and wheeled away.

  Evan watched Whitsun leave with a thoughtful expression. “There’s something about that sheriff. If I didn’t know better, I’d say . . .” He shook his head. “Nah. Can’t be. Eyes aren’t right.” He shrugged and stuck his hand out to Grim. “Congratulations on getting hitched. I hope you and the Lollipop will be happy.”

  Grim regarded the demonoid with no little wariness. Evan was invariably cocky. However, there was an air of smug complacency and satisfaction about him now that sounded alarm bells in Grim’s head.

  “Thank you.” Grim shook Evan’s hand. “I did not expect your felicitations.”

  Evan slapped Grim on the back. “Nah, couldn’t be happier. Lolly’s a sweetheart. One of a kind. I meant to give you a run for your money, but it’s obvious you two are eat up in love.” He grinned. “Jason Beck’s baby boy ain’t stupid. I know when I been friendzoned.” He thumped Grim again. “Take care of her, you hear? You don’t treat her right, and the Evinator will be on you like white on rice.”

  It took Grim a moment to decipher Evan’s comments. The demonoid was actually threatening him.

  Grim managed not to smile. “Warning duly noted. I am mindful of my good fortune in winning Sassy’s hand. I assure you she will be loved, cherished, and protected.”

  To the limits of his considerable abilities and beyond, if need be. Sassy was his everything.

  “Long as we’re clear,” Evan said. “Gotta say, I don’t envy you Mrs. Got Rocks for a monster-in-law. She’s a nightmare. So, where are you and the Sassafras going on your honeymoon?”

  Grim struggled to follow Evan’s conversation. He supposed that Mrs. Got Rocks referred to Sassy’s mother. The last bit was harder to decipher.

  Dell? Grim sent his thoughts outward. What is a honeymoon?

  There was no answer. Strange. Now that Grim thought on it, Dell had been absent for days. In fact, they had not conversed since before the Binding.

  “I do not know this term,” Grim said. “What is a honeymoon?”

  The corners of Evan’s mouth lifted. “It’s a holiday for sex after you get hitched. You take the old ball and chain someplace romantic—and expensive as hell, if you got the greenbacks—and pretend you’re over the moon to be staked to her until you’re dead. Lust, rust, and dust. Those are the three stages of marriage. And no more strange for the rest of your life.” He shuddered. “Better you than me.”

  Lifting his hand in farewell, Evan strolled off in his loose-limbed way.

  He paused down the drive and turned around.

  “Almost forgot what I came out here to tell you,” he said. “Your pain-in-the-ass boss tapped Taryn to bring in the rogue.”

  “What?”

  “Thought you’d be cheesed.” Evan grinned. “Seems to think you Dalvahni might not be up to policing yourselves. Conflict of interest. Taryn came to tell you, but you and the Lollipop were too busy doing the bunny dance. She asked me to pass on the happy news. Told her I’d be more’n glad to.”

  There was gleeful satisfaction in Evan’s voice.

  Grim digested this news. “I am loath to admit it, but there is wisdom in Conall’s decision. ’Twould be hard for one of us to dispatch a brother, no matter his transgression.”

  “Spare me the almighty brotherhood talk.” Evan shoved his hands in his pockets. “One more thing. I borrowed Mea while you and Sassy were MIA. Hit the casino in Atmore and won a million bucks three nights in a row.”

  “That is a large amount of currency. The luck of the gods was surely with you.”

  “Something like that.” Evan flashed his wicked smile. “For some reason, they turned me away at the door the fourth night. Seemed to think I was up to something. And me with such an honest face.” He shrugged. “No biggie. Thinking of hitting the slots in Vegas next.”

  “I forget that money is important to humans.”

  “Not just humans,” Evan said. “Demonoids need love, too. Hard to eat regular without it. For some reason, Alabama Power gets cranky when you don’t pay your bill.”

  “I am sorry I did not consider this. I should have given you money.”

  Evan’s dark brows clamped together. “Do I look like a charity case?”

  “’Twas not my intent to offend.”

  “Whatever,” Evan said. “I’ve managed to save a little dough over the years. Took some of my winnings and bought me a truck and a little house a few blocks from my dad’s place in Meadowbrook. Nothing fancy, but it’s got potential.”

  “Congratulations on your good fortune.”

  “Yeah, check me out. I’m practically do-mesticated.” Evan raised his hand in farewell. “Later, Big ’Un. Props again on winning the princess.”

  He sauntered down the drive and disappeared into the garage. Grim heard an engine start. A moment later, Evan motored past in his new truck. The gleaming black carriage had an enclosed portion for carrying freight. The vehicle disappeared into the trees and Evan was gone.

  Grim turned to reenter the house and heard a cry of alarm.

  Sassy.

  In a flash, he was inside the house and at her side. She was unharmed, thank the gods, and kneeling beside the prone figure of her mother. The shade of Junior Peterson hovered nearby.

  “What has befallen her?” Grim demanded.

  Sassy looked up at him and Grim inhaled sharply. Gods, she was lovely, this sweet thorn that pierced his heart. For her he would bleed and gladly.

  “It’s Mama.” Sassy patted her mother’s hand. “She fainted.”

  “Understandable, given the afternoon’s revelations.” Junior looked around. “Where’s Trey?”

  “He ran off when Mama swooned.”

  “I’d better go after him.” Junior started to fade. “Things have a way of happening when Trey gets upset.”

  Sassy gave him a sharp look. “Is Trey behind the accidents at the mill?”

  The shade winked. “You’re a smart girl. You figure it
out.”

  Junior disappeared.

  “Well, I like that,” Sassy said. “First Trey leaves me the mill. Then he tries to put me out of business.”

  “Your brother is a troubled spirit, my love,” Grim said. “I doubt he knows what he is about.”

  “You’re right. Trey’s had it rough. Juke says my grandfather murdered him in front of Trey.”

  “Juke?” Grim knelt beside the prone female and checked her pulse. “Who is Juke?”

  “Juke was Mama’s nickname for Junior.” Sassy’s expression was troubled. “I think Mama really loved him. And Trey loved Mama. He stayed with my grandfather to protect her. Me, too, I suppose. I thought my brother didn’t care, but he did. He cared a lot.” Sassy’s voice trembled. “It’s so sad.”

  Grim rose to his feet and took Sassy in his arms. “Your brother did what he had to do to keep you both safe. For that, I honor him.”

  “Is Mama all right?” Sassy relaxed, but there was worry in her voice. “Should we call a doctor?”

  “Her color returns and her heartbeat is strong.” Releasing Sassy, Grim deposited the unconscious woman on the couch. “Perhaps a cool cloth for her head would bring ease.”

  “Of course,” Sassy said. “I should have thought of that.”

  She bustled from the room, returning with a bowl and a small towel. Dampening the material, she bathed her mother’s face and the back of her neck with the cool cloth.

  Eleanor Champion stirred and sat up. “What happened? Merciful heavens, I had a disturbing dream.” She saw Grim and groaned. “It was a dream, wasn’t it?”

  “No, Mama,” Sassy said. “Grim and I are married.”

  Mrs. Champion slumped against the pillows. “Ungrateful child. After all I’ve done for you.”

  A door slammed and an older man with blond hair dusted with silver came into the room. He had the air of a successful merchant about him, shrewd but soft around the middle.

  “The car looks fine, but it won’t start, Eleanor,” he said. “We’ll have to have it towed.”

  Sassy smiled at the man. “Daddy Joel, I’d like you to meet my husband, Grim Dalvahni.”

  “What’s that, Sassy Bug?” The human’s gaze skittered from Sassy to her mother. “Your husband?”