Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb (27 page)

Conall and Duncan exchanged glances.

“I see what you mean.” Duncan's deep voice rippled with amusement. “He has the signs.”

Grim scowled. “I am in no mood for your wit, Duncan. Signs of what?”

“Never mind.” Conall clapped Grim on the shoulder. “Your thirst for battle does you credit, but save your valor for another day.”

Grim put his sword away with reluctance.

“Captain.” Taryn strode up to Conall in her confident manner. “I bring you greetings from Arta, the High Huntress.”

“Greetings, little sister. How can I be of service to the Kir?”

Taryn's mouth tightened. 'Twas a source of irritation to the Kirvahni that Kehvahn had created the Dalvahni first. Grim doubted not that Conall had used the diminutive a-purpose.

The huntress whistled. A golden hawk floated out of the darkness and landed on her gloved hand. “Arta sends news of grave import.”

Conall looked bored. “Indeed? Do these tidings concern the djegrali?”

“Aye, and the Dalvahni as well.”

Grim sneered. Arta had somehow learned of the existence of the djegrali's supposed secret weapon and thought to school the captain of the Dalvahni? What impudence.

Taryn lifted her hand and spoke to the hawk. “Merta, the scroll.”

The hawk shrieked and flew at the leader of the Dalvahni, dropping something as she soared past. Conall plucked the tiny roll of parchment out of the air as it fell. Unrolling the message, he scanned the contents.

He looked up, his black eyes icy with rage. “Tripe. If Arta seeks an internecine feud between us, she has made an excellent start.”

Taryn met Conall's fury without flinching. “She seeks to warn you, sir. A Dalvahni warrior has gone rogue and consorts with the enemy. Beware, Captain. You have a traitor in your midst.”

 

The sales clerk waited on the curb while Sassy and Taryn loaded their purchases into the trunk of the Maserati.

“Here you go.” The young woman handed Sassy the last four shopping bags. “That's all of them.”

Sassy smiled her thanks at the clerk. Latrisse Jackson was an exotic beauty with creamy brown skin, wavy black hair, and tilted dark eyes. And, boy, did she know how to dress. She
rocked
a leopard patch cap-sleeve dress with a boat neckline and an asymmetric hem. Splashes of brilliant turquoise brightened the animal print and drew the eye to Latrisse's tight curves. Black calfskin ankle strap sandals with three-inch heels and metallic silver trim on the midsoles completed her stylish ensemble.

Sassy crammed the rest of the bags in the overflowing trunk. “Thanks for your help, Latrisse. Mrs. Smith's a sweetheart, but she doesn't have your fashion flair.”

“Are you kidding?” Latrisse said. “I've had a blast. And I've racked up some major brownie points with the boss.”

Sassy giggled. “We did some serious damage to my credit card. Taryn and I needed everything.”

“We did not ‘need' everything. You bought everything.” There was more than a hint of disapproval in Taryn's tone. “There is a vast deal of difference.”

“Oh, pooh, it was fun. Admit it.”

“The breeches are passable.”

Passable? Taryn was stunning in form-fitting jeans and a loose, sleeveless top. Too bad the huntress had insisted on buying a pair of black lace-up combat boots.

“Don't buy those,” Sassy had protested. “They're hid-jus.”

“They are not hideous. They are comfortable and sturdy. More importantly, I can fight in them.” Taryn demonstrated a flying roundhouse kick to prove her point. “If you prefer I can wear my doeskins.”

Sassy had given up on the boots.

She slammed the lid of the trunk and turned to Taryn. “Are you sure you don't want to get that dress before we leave?”

“Thank you, but no. I am in your debt already. Rest assured you will be fully recompensed as soon as I obtain proper currency.”

“I'm not worried about it,” Sassy said. “I wish you'd change your mind and get the dress. It looked three kinds of darling on you.”

“A Kirvahni warrior does not run around in a shift.”

Even a peppy perkster knew when she was licked. With a sigh, Sassy admitted defeat and smoothed the pleats of her black-on-ivory fit and flare “shift.” The dress hit her right above the knees—very professional, she thought. A pair of bright red ankle harness pumps and a matching handbag added some pizzazz to the outfit.

A girl had her standards, after all.

She glanced at her watch. “Goodness, look at the time. It's almost ten. We have to scoot.”

She hugged Latrisse good-bye. “I've found my fashion soul mate in Hannah. Isn't that creamy?”

“Totally smooth,” Latrisse agreed. “You need anything else, give me a holler.”

“I will. Tell Mrs. Smith I said thanks again for letting me use her office phone.”

Sassy had called Wes several times from the house that morning with no luck. She'd left messages on his work phone and his cell. So far, there had been no response.

“Not a problem,” Latrisse said. “It's hard to get cell service in Hannah. Were you able to reach your party?”

Sassy shook her head. “It rolled straight to voice mail.” For like the umpteenth time. At least she knew the landline at the house wasn't the problem. “I left a message.”

Wes must have gone home. He had no relatives in town, and Hannah's solitary motel was a dump. Leaving town in a snit was one thing, but he wasn't taking her calls, which told Sassy he was mad as fire. Really, Wes's continued refusal to communicate was the teensiest bit annoying, because it meant Sassy would have to go to Fairhope. A girl didn't break up with her fiancé over the phone. A thing like that should be done face-to-face.

Mother-of-pearl, Sassy dreaded the drama. Going home meant dealing with Mama, and Mama was a handful on the best of days. Mama would not be happy with Sassy for breaking Wes's heart. Poor Wes adored his Sassy Bug. He was going to be crushed when Sassy ended things, but she couldn't marry a man she didn't love. It wouldn't be right . . . for either of them. And then there was the whole
I'm not human
thing. Wes wouldn't marry a Rite Two Episcopalian, much less a woman from another species.

Evan sauntered down the sidewalk looking bad-boy delicious in a pair of Trey's jeans and a black tee shirt. His glossy dark hair was tucked behind his ears, and his studs and earrings were on display. Hard to believe this was the same grubby creature Sassy had stumbled upon in the witch's shed a mere two days ago. He'd changed. So had she.

“Hel-lo, mama.” Evan gave a low whistle and looked Latrisse up and down. “Where you been all my life?”

“In school learning about helping verbs, dickwad,” Latrisse said. “And I am
not
your ‘mama.'”

She spun on her sexy high heels and disappeared into the store with an enticing sway of her hips.

Evan watched her go, his sensuous mouth tilted in a smile. “Dayum. I'm sorry I didn't hang with y'all now.”

“Do not be,” Taryn said. “'Twas a tedious and everlasting process.”

“Don't pay any attention to her. She talks a good grumble.” Sassy patted the steering wheel. “Hop in. We're headed to the mill.”

“I'm gonna pass.” Evan's gaze lingered on the entrance to the Greater Fair. “Think I'll poke around town a bit. See what I can dig up on Ora Mae. Is she kith or isn't she. Maybe figure out where she's hiding.”

Taryn frowned. “Grim told you to accompany us. He was clear on the matter.”

“Grim ain't the boss of me.” He gave the huntress a sly look. “Unless you're scared you can't handle it.”

“Handle what?”

“Whatever. Always something when the Sassinator's involved.”

“
Hey
.”

“Sorry, babe. But you're a shit magnet.”

“Stay here, then,” Sassy said with a huff of indignation. “And good luck with the witch.
Not.
”

Evan grinned and raised his hand in farewell. Sassy put the car in reverse and eased out of the parking place, putt-putting down Main Street and over the bridge. Several miles later, she turned off the main highway and onto a lonely road that paralleled the river. A pickup truck passed them going the opposite direction, but there was no other traffic, just trees, trees, and more trees. Beeches, birches, oaks, maples, hickories, and pines crowded the edges of the road. Birds twittered in the bushes. Once, they stopped to let a box turtle heave itself across the road.

For the umpteenth time that morning, Sassy wondered where Grim had gone. He'd disappeared after breakfast. There'd been some kind of meeting with Conall—Evan had let it slip over toast and eggs—but more he would not say. Neither would Grim. Looking sterner than usual, the big warrior had shaken his head and stalked off. Hadn't been seen or heard from since.

It was enough to make a girl grumpy. She'd been counting on Grim to be with her at the mill. Her first day and he'd gone off the grid. What if he didn't come back? The thought made her tummy feel hollow and squishy at the same time.

Sassy peeked at the huntress. “Where'd you say Grim went?”

“I did not, but if you must know, he went to look for something.”

“The witch?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“That information is not mine to divulge.”

“Is he coming back?”

“Of a certainty.”

The empty feeling inside Sassy lessened. Then something occurred to her, something
awful.

“Grim's not in danger, is he?”

“Danger is a demon hunter's destiny. Grim is a warrior well-seasoned.”

Bunny rabbits, that sounded as though Grim was going into battle. The hollow feeling was replaced by panic. Sassy clutched the steering wheel. Grim could get hurt or even . . . even . . .

No. She would not go there. Negative thoughts attracted negativity. She would be positive. The alternative was too terrifying.

“Sassy, are you well?” Taryn asked. “Your hair is many hued.”

Sassy took a quick peek in the rearview mirror. Her hair resembled paint chip art. Startled, she swerved across the road and almost landed in the ditch.

“Mother-of-pearl.” She guided the car back between the lines. “I can't show up at the mill like this. No one will take me seriously.”

“Calm yourself,” Taryn said. “Halt the carriage beneath yon reaching elm to regain your composure.”

Sassy parked beneath the tree. She turned off the engine and sat, letting the green quiet of the woods sooth her. Grim would be all right. He had to be. Anything less was unacceptable. Taryn was right. She needed to stay calm. Flying off the handle and imagining the worst was neither perky nor productive. But, boy, the next time she saw Grim Dalvahni, she was going to put a bug in his ear.

A sudden thought made Sassy bolt upright. “Is Grim with one of those awful females, the ones the Dalvahni have sex with?”

Taryn gave her a curious look. “You wish to know if Grim is with a thrall?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why?”

“I just do, okay?”

“He is not.”

“You're sure?”

“Positive.”

“Oh. That's a relief.”

“To the contrary, emotional and physical release is the sole purpose of the thralls. Judging from his short temper and ill humor, I believe Grim would benefit from their services.”

“
Taryn
.”

“What?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

Taryn shook her head. “I do not understand you.”

“I know what you mean. I confuse me, too.”

Sassy leaned back to admire the tree over their heads. The elm was quite old, thick of trunk with a wide brim of spreading branches that reminded her of an outrageous derby hat.

Humm
, the elm said, dozing in the sunshine.

The sound was comforting. On impulse, Sassy kicked off her shoes and scampered up the tree. To Sassy's delight, Taryn joined her, climbing the tree with the easy grace of a tree nymph or an elf. Side by side, they sat on a sturdy limb and swung their legs back and forth.

“This is nice,” Sassy said. “I could stay here forever.”

“Inadvisable. Unless you can subsist on bark, you would soon grow hungry and thirsty. And a tree does not offer much shelter in winter.”

“Way to kill the dream.”

“It is my nature to be practical.”

“I've noticed. The Kir and the Dal are alike in that respect.”

Taryn thought this over. “A fair assessment, I suppose, though I find it irksome. We have the same Maker, so there are bound to be similarities.”

“And some rather glaring differences.”

“Obviously.”

Sassy drew the woodsy air into her lungs. A pleasant tingle spread from her chest throughout her body.

“Being in the woods agrees with you,” Taryn said. “Your hair is already losing its former startling hue.”

“That's nice.” Sassy drifted on a wave of well-being. “I like being outdoors. It's the fairy fusion, I guess.”

“Of course. That would explain your follicular response to emotional stimuli. The fae are mercurial beings.”

“Whatever the reason, I'm happy in the woods,” Sassy said. “I think I'm going to love working at the mill and being surrounded by trees.”

Humm
, the elm said, as though agreeing with her.

Sassy smiled and pressed her cheek against the rough bark.

“Humm,” she crooned back.

Taryn stopped swinging her legs. “What are you doing?”

“Talking to the tree. Can't you hear it?”

Taryn stilled, listening. “I detect a slight bombilation. Is that what you mean?”

“Exactly.”

Sassy bounced happily on the branch. How lovely to have a friend to share this moment with. None of her friends in the Lala Lavender League would be caught dead in a tree.

She put her ear to the furrowed trunk.

“It's my second day speaking tree, and Mr. Elm is a little groggy from the morning sun,” she said, “but he's singing about the excellent shape of his crown and a lark . . . No, his
bark.
He's quite proud of his bark, and he's elm-lishously happy to be spreading his roots in the bottomland where the soil is moist.”

The humming abruptly ceased. Nearby, a trio of young maples stopped shaking their leaves for attention and went still.

“That's odd,” Sassy whispered. “The woods have stopped talking. The elm is frightened. He says something bad is coming. He feels it in his roots. He says we should leave.”

“Stay here. I will investigate.”

“But, Taryn—”

The huntress vanished.

Sassy clung to the tree and strained her ears to catch some sound, any sound, but the woods were silent. She shivered, foreboding slamming into her like a freight train. She'd felt this suffocating, bone-jellying sense of evil before. It was the witch. She was out there, old and ripe with malevolence; impossibly strong and burning with hunger. She was coming for Sassy, the thief who'd stolen from her. Those teeth, those horrible teeth like blackened files in the hideous gaping mouth, would tear into Sassy's flesh as the witch consumed her in great slobbering bites.