by Lexi George
The Hag drew back. “He was my son. How do you know Jamerson?”
“He was my big brother.” The veins stood out on Cassandra’s neck. “I was raised on this farm. Jamie had three children.” Her voice rose. “I loved those babies like my own and you ate them.”
Cassandra’s face was white. “Those three headstones under the tree belong to your grandbabies. I buried them there, or what was left of them. You ate your own kin.”
“You’re lying.” The Hag recoiled. “I don’t believe you.”
“The truth hurts, doesn’t it, Mother.”
Shiitake mushrooms, the Hag was Cassandra’s mother? Mind officially blown.
A droning noise began in the distance and swelled.
The Hag rounded on Sassy. “What’s that? What have you done now, you troublesome little bitch?”
Sassy regarded the horrible old woman with pity. “I told you to leave. Too late now.”
Thousands of fairies swarmed into the cabin. They flew in through the doors and windows and crawled through holes and crevices. Some were lovely to behold with luminous pointed faces, teardrop eyes, and wings of spun sugar. Others were bent and hideous with horns, pointed teeth, claws, and fiery eyes. Others still resembled moving bits of moss, twigs, leaves, bark, and stone. Some glowed with starlight and moonlight, some with the pulsing heart of a fiery ember. They chittered, chirped, trilled, growled, hissed, and grumbled. The clamor was deafening.
The fairies rushed the Hag. Fluttering, clawing, climbing, the avenging troop tore at her skin, hair, and runny black eyes. The Hag screamed and slapped at them. With a furious screech, she ran outside. The fairies swarmed after her.
A lone fairy darted up to Sassy. Clear as a raindrop with wings like frosted lace, the tiny creature hovered in front of her. Tilting its delicate head, it chirped something in a high musical voice. The message was clear: Seriously, you’ll want to see this.
The fairy sped away.
Sassy dashed into the yard and was greeted by an astonishing sight. The witch streaked around the clearing with the fairies in hot pursuit. And something else, as well: Mea the Maserati. Mea’s doors opened and closed, and her trunk snapped like an angry mouth. Engine growling with the ferocity of an attack dog, the sports car harried the witch.
Shrieking threats and curses, the witch broke away, dashed down a grassy lane and across the field in the direction of a broken gate. The car and the fairies took off after her, bird-dogging the fleeing crone.
Sassy heard a deep shout and was snatched up by a pair of strong arms.
“Sassy.” Grim crushed her to him, raining kisses upon her face. His big hands roved over her body, checking for injuries. “Are you harmed?”
“No—well, a little, but I’ll be all right.” Sassy threw her arms around him and burst into tears. He smelled so wonderfully Grimmish. “Oh, Grim, I’m so glad to see you. I love you so much, and I was so afraid that . . . that . . .”
“I know.” Grim’s voice was hoarse. “I feared the same. Ah, gods, Sassy, I have been in anguish, thinking you might be hurt or . . . or . . .”
Boom. Something hit the ground. Sassy lifted her head from Grim’s broad chest. Monster Evan held an uprooted tree in one hand like a club. He was as enormous as Sassy remembered, and he was naked. Monster Evan had a big gray butt and legs like a redwood.
“What’s he doing here?” she asked.
“He followed us,” Grim said.
“Witch.” Evan smashed the huge cudgel into the ground. “Ebban kill witch.”
He spotted Sassy and snorted in recognition. “Sass?”
“Sassy is fine.” Sassy pointed. “If you’re looking for the witch, she went thataway.”
Evan grunted and thundered off.
Mr. Collier popped out of the bed of Evan’s truck, visibly shaken.
“Told you there was something off about that feller.” Trembling, Collier climbed out of the vehicle. “He blowed up. Scared the bejesus out of me, so I hid. You folks okay?”
“We’re fine, Mr. Collier,” Sassy said. “I’m sorry Evan startled you. He’s really quite harmless.”
Monster Evan crashed across the plowed field and decimated the stand of trees that separated the farm from the river.
“Uh-huh,” Collier said. “Cuddly as Godzilla, that one.”
“Knew she was my mother,” a raised feminine voice said. “You knew and you didn’t tell me.”
Cassandra and Duncan stood beneath the spreading oak, and it was clear they knew one another. They were having an argument, which piqued Sassy’s curiosity.
“How could I be the bearer of such dread news?” Duncan said. “I would sooner tear my arm off than hurt you.”
“So you thought you’d kill my mother and not tell me about it?” Cassandra said. “That is so typically arrogant of you.”
“She’s a monster.”
“She’s my mother.”
“You know what she is. She has to be destroyed.”
“I know. I know.” Cassandra threw her arms up in the air. “Forget it. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Cassandra,” Duncan said. “Be reasonable. I sought to spare you pain.”
“Always the noble Dalvahni.” Cassandra’s violet eyes swam with tears. “Too noble to be tainted by a dirty demonoid. So you left.”
“I was wrong to leave you. I was wrong about so many things.” Duncan reached for her. “I came back.”
Cassandra jerked away. “Too late. The children were dead. I couldn’t save them.” She brushed her wet cheeks. “I didn’t know about the Hag. You did. You could have saved them, but you left.”
Turning her back on him, Cassandra stormed over to a Silverado truck.
“Cassandra,” Duncan said, starting after her. “Come back.”
“Leave me alone, Duncan.” Cassandra climbed into the vehicle. “Leave me the hell alone.”
She slammed the door. The engine cranked and she roared off.
“Arrgh,” Duncan shouted, shaking his fists at the sky.
With a clap of thunder, he disappeared.
“Those two have issues,” Sassy said. “Fortunately, I’m a pip of a matchmaker.”
Grim shook his head. “Sassy, I do not think—”
A brilliant poof of light set the horizon on fire.
“Mother-of-pearl, did you see that?” Sassy made for Evan’s truck. “I have to see what’s happening.”
Blip. Grim caught up with her and pulled her close. “Hold. My way is faster.”
Sassy braced herself for the Dalvahni time warp. To her surprise, Grim picked her up and ran. In the blink of an eye they crossed the harrowed field, zipped through the swath of broken trees Evan had left in his wake, and reached the river.
A battlefield lay before them. The Hag had made a stand on a sandbar. Brown water swirled around the raised, sandy ridge. A swarm of fairies buzzed about her in a stinging cloud. Those without wings skipped across the water, light as thistledown.
Cursing and muttering foul incantations, the Hag fought back. Dark spells singed the air, and fairies fell by the hundreds, their tiny bodies floating on the water like popcorn hulls.
The swarm withdrew to regroup.
Monster Evan and Mea were on the riverbank. Mea’s headlights glowed red, and her hood curled away from her engine like a snarling lip. She quivered, a mechanical mountain lion ready to spring. If the witch came ashore, Mea would be waiting, jaws open.
From his position onshore, Monster Evan hurled threats and anything he could get his hands on at the witch. Rocks, small trees, and clods of dirt zinged through the air with deadly force. The witch brushed the missiles aside with a flick of her hand.
Grunting and growling with rage, he grabbed a handful of mud and packed it into a large, hard ball. The fairies swept in for another attack. Evan roared and let the glob of muck fly. It struck the beleaguered witch square in the kisser. Her arms pinwheeled. She lost her balance and splashed into the river.
A large shape
surfaced nearby, a slick island of gray and yellow.
“Gilbert.” The witch floundered in the water. “Come to Mama. There’s a good boy.”
Gilbert rolled an eye in Sassy’s direction.
“No, Gilbert,” Sassy cried. “Don’t do it. She’ll give you a bellyache.”
The giant catfish bore down on the witch like a frigate.
“Gilbert?” The witch backpedaled in the water. “Gilbert, it’s me. It’s Mama. Gilbert.”
Gilbert opened his huge maw and swallowed the witch whole. With a loud burp and a flip of his tail, Gilbert swam away.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The next morning, Sassy stirred and opened her eyes. She and Grim were lying in the big bed at the river house. She was naked, except for a sexy pair of black sandals with thigh-high straps. She smiled in secret delight and stretched across her husband’s broad, muscular chest.
Grim really liked the purple whatzit’s shoes. The things they’d done the night before . . .
Sassy shivered at the sensual memories.
The doorbell rang, and Sassy sat up and scooted to the side of the bed.
Grim snaked a hand out, stopping her. “Where are you going?”
“Someone’s here.”
He pulled her close and, leaning over, nuzzled her mouth with his lips. “Ignore them. With any luck, they will go away.”
He kissed her, and Sassy’s thoughts disintegrated. She sighed and gave herself up to the searing caress.
Grim slid his hand from her bare bottom to the sandal strap around her thigh. Her skin tingled at his touch.
He brushed his fingers across the thin leather tie. “Have I mentioned how much I like your footwear?”
“Once or twice, last night.” She peeped at him through her lashes. “You don’t find them impractical?”
Grim’s clever fingers followed the path of the strap to her sensitive inner thigh.
“For running, perhaps.” He stroked the throbbing spot between her legs. “Eminently practical for . . . other things.”
“Grim,” Sassy breathed. “That feels so—”
“Ahem. Sorry to disturb.”
The deep cough came from the end of the bed.
Grim cursed and whipped the sheet over Sassy.
“Captain.” Grim sat up to greet the interloper. “What brings you here?”
“I heard you vanquished the Hag.”
“You heard wrong. Sassy vanquished the witch, not I. She summoned the fairies. They, in turn, routed the Hag.”
“Indeed?” The dark-haired captain looked at Sassy in his icy, measuring way.
“Yes.” Honesty compelled Sassy to add, “Although I’m not sure how I did it, or if I could do it again. And I had a lot of help. The fairies did most of it, along with Evan and Gilbert. Mea, too.”
Conall’s brows rose. “Beck came to your aid?”
“Yes.”
“Extraordinary.”
“Not at all.” Sassy looked him in the eye. “Evan’s a good guy. You and your wife should give him another chance.”
Conall’s hard mouth twitched. “Who are Gilbert and Mea?”
“Mea’s my car,” Sassy said. “She’s magic. Grim brought her to life, like he did—”
Grim cut her off.
“Gilbert is a giant fish,” Grim said. “The creature is fond of Sassy. Evan hit the witch with a ball of mud, and she went into the river. The catfish swallowed her. ’Tis my belief Gilbert swallowed the witch to protect Sassy.”
“I see,” Conall said. “I am impressed, Grimford. Your lady wife seems capable.”
“Aye, Captain. Quite capable.”
“I should stay on her good side, were I you.”
“I will do my best, sir.”
“A Dalvahni warrior gives his all,” Conall said. “You seemed to be making an effort when I arrived.”
Grim flushed. “Yes, Captain.”
“Later, we will discuss the magical car. For now, I wish you both a good day.”
“Wait.” Clutching the sheet around her, Sassy sat up. “What about Taryn? Have you heard from her?”
“No.”
“Nothing?” Sassy pleated a fold of the sheet. “I’m worried about her. She might need help.”
“She is Kir,” Conall said. “She asks not for quarter, nor does she give it.”
Conall disappeared.
The doorbell sounded again.
“We might as well see who it is,” Sassy said. “They’re obviously not going away.”
She got up and threw on her robe. Grim climbed out of bed in a lithe movement, more than six feet of lean, delectable Dalvahni. Naked Dalvahni. Sassy drank in the sight of him, though not for long. One second he was bare and bodacious. The next he was fully dressed in jeans, a tee shirt, and boots.
She looked down. Her black sandals peeped from beneath the hem of her robe.
“Leave them,” Grim said, reading her mind.
His voice was husky, and he had that look, the one that made her insides melt like caramel.
“Whoever is here will not tarry long,” he said. “I will make sure of that.” He tugged her close and kissed her. “In the meantime, I will know you are wearing them—and nothing else—beneath that garment.”
Sassy’s breasts tightened against the terry cloth, and a delicious tension coiled in her belly. Bunny rabbits, he sure knew how to wind a girl up.
The doorbell buzzed a third time, and Sassy hurried to answer. She opened the front door, and Sheriff Whitsun and Mr. Houston stepped inside.
Whitsun looked calm as an oyster behind his Ray-Bans. Houston, on the other hand, was clearly rattled.
“Sorry to bother you folks,” Whitsun said, “but I’ve got news about the mill.”
“It’s a total loss,” Houston blurted. “Everything the firemen did seemed to make it worse. Fire spread. Never seen anything like it. Burned the outbuildings and the office. The men and I managed to save the equipment and some of the cut timber, but that’s about it.”
“Anyone hurt?” Sassy asked.
Houston shook his head. “Two of the men sucked up some smoke, but Doc Dunn says it’s not serious.”
Sassy exhaled. “Thank goodness. Any idea what started the fire?”
“I’ve got my arson guy on it,” Sheriff Whitsun said. “We don’t know anything yet.”
“Probably started with one of the machines.” Houston removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. “That’s the most likely source. ’Course, you know there are stories.”
“What kind of stories?” Sassy asked.
“Same old same old.” Houston snorted. “Some of the men swear they saw the ghost hound.” He wiggled his fingers and made a whooooo noise. “Claim the hound ran from building to building, spreading the fire. Damn nonsense.”
Trey had set the fire. He’d finally succeeded in destroying the mill. Maybe now he would find some peace. Sassy hoped so. Her brother deserved a happy after-life.
“So,” Houston said. “When do we start rebuilding? The men want to know.”
Rebuild the mill? Sassy’s body and mind balked. An idea formed and took root.
“We don’t.”
Houston stared at her. “What do you mean? My men have families to support.”
“We’ll clear the lot and build a pickle factory,” Sassy said. “Mother’s been scouting new locations. Hannah would be ideal.”
“A pickle factory.” Houston’s eyes bulged. “What about my men?”
“They’ll be given first dibs on the best jobs at the new plant,” Sassy said. “If they don’t want to work there, I’ll provide them excellent references.”
Sassy grew more excited about the plan by the minute.
“I’ll hold a pickling contest,” she said. “The winning recipe will launch our newest pickle, alongside our standard products. Dills. Bread and butter pickles. Sweet baby gherkins.” She clapped her hands. “It’s going to be creamy.”
“Pickles,” Houston m
uttered in disgust. “Reckon that’s it for me.”
“Oh, no, Mr. Houston,” Sassy said. “You can’t quit. I need you more than ever.”
“I’m a timber man. I ain’t working in no dang pickle plant.”
“Of course not.” Sassy gave him a sunny smile. “I want you to manage my timber properties. I need someone I can trust. Someone honest and dependable. Someone with an excellent work ethic and an extensive knowledge and love of trees. That’s you, Mr. Houston.” She beamed. “You’ll be my very own Fangorn.”
“I’ll be a what?”
“A tree shepherd. You’ll decide which ones need cutting and what to plant. When it’s time for a controlled burn. That sort of thing.”
Houston looked uncertain. “I could do that with my eyes closed. What does it pay?”
“I’ll treat you to breakfast at the Sweet Shop tomorrow morning,” Sassy said. “We can hammer out the details then.”
“I’ll have to think on it.”
Houston left, shaking his head.
Sheriff Whitsun lingered.
“Eddie Furr’s funeral is this Friday,” he said. “It’s closed casket.”
The witch hadn’t left much for Eddie’s family to bury.
“Thank you, Sheriff,” Sassy said. “I’ll be sure to attend.”
“His folks want answers,” Whitsun said. “Is it safe to assume the . . . er . . . person responsible is dead?”
“Yes,” Grim said. “She is no more.”
“She? Eddie’s murderer was a woman?”
“Not precisely,” Grim said. “You strike me as astute, Sheriff. Perhaps you have noticed things in Hannah that are beyond the norm?”
“No kidding.”
“Then, perchance, you have heard of a creature called the Hag?”
“The Howling Hag of Catman Road? ’Course. It’s a bedtime story parents tell their kids to keep them in at night.”
“She is—was—no yarn.”
Whitsun chewed on this. “Huh. You saying the Hag killed Eddie Furr?”
“Yes.”
The sheriff’s expression was thoughtful. “It explains the bizarre manner of death. So what happened to the Hag? Did you kill her?”
“No.”
Whitsun turned to Sassy. “You?”
