Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb (39 page)

BOOK: Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb
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“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
T
he 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 muttered 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?”
“No.” Sassy met his gaze. “But I'm not the teensiest bit sorry she's dead. She wasn't a nice person.”
The corners of Grim's mouth tilted. “Damning words, indeed, if you knew my wife.”
“I'll tell Eddie's folks his murderer is dead,” Whitsun said. “Maybe it will give them some ease.”
He turned to go and snapped his fingers. “Almost forgot. Went by the Luker place earlier this morning and found something.”
“What?” Sassy asked.
“Charlie Skinner's boots. They were lying on Ora Mae's doorstep. Peculiar. They were covered in slime and catfish whiskers.”
“Catfish whiskers?” Sassy murmured. “Do tell.”
“Yep. Whiskers must have been thirty feet long,” Whitsun said. “That's one catfish I wouldn't want to meet in the dark.”
Sassy and Grim exchanged glances. Gilbert had eaten the witch and spat out her boots. Clever, clever Gilbert.
“It's circumstantial evidence,” Whitsun continued, “but it makes Ora Mae a person of interest in the murder of Charlie Skinner. I have questions for her when she returns.”
“I doubt she'll be back,” Sassy said. “I have a feeling Ora Mae's sins finally caught up with her.”
“Maybe so.” The sheriff lifted his hand in farewell. “I'll be moving along.”
Whitsun left.
Sassy closed the door and leaned back. “What do you think of my idea to open a Jerkins pickle plant in Hannah?”
“I think it an excellent notion,” Grim said. “The mill was making you ill, a circumstance I would not allow to continue indefinitely. What of your mother? Do you think she will agree?”
“She'll be tickled pink,” Sassy said. “It will give her an excuse to visit us. Often. Are you okay with that?”
Grim crossed the foyer in two strides and pressed her against the door. “I can handle anything, so long as I have you.”
He bent his head and captured her mouth in a kiss. Things were getting interesting when the doorbell rang.
Again.
“Lollipop? Big 'Un? You in there? It's me.”
Grim yanked the door open. “What do you want?”
Evan slid inside. He took in Sassy's flushed cheeks and Grim's scowl, and grinned. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Yes,” Grim said. “What do you want?”
“Came to see if Sassy's all right. For some reason, I don't remember much of what happened yesterday. I was hoping you'd fill me in.”
“You monstered out,” Sassy said.
“Thought so,” Evan said. “Came to in the woods naked as a yard dog. Is the witch dead?”
“Yes.”
Grim relayed the events of the day before in his concise way.
Evan chuckled when Grim had finished. “Eaten by the monster she created. That's perfect.”
“It does have a certain irony,” Grim agreed.
“Ding dong, the wicked old witch is dead and you get your prince, huh, Sassafras?”
“Yes.” Sassy put her arms around Grim and smiled up at her husband. “Don't you love happy endings?”
“Gag,” Evan said. “One last thing and I'll leave you two lovebirds to coo each other to death. Have either of you heard from Dell?”
In a move too fast to follow, Grim picked up Evan and slammed him against the wall.
“What do you know of Dell?” Grim shook Evan. “Tell me at once.”
“You and the Lolly were wrapped up in one another.” Evan tugged at Grim's hands. “Dell was lonely. We started talking and became pals.”
Grim dropped Evan like a hot potato. “That is how you attained such a large sum of money. You exploited Dell for your own greedy ends.”
“What do you mean?” Sassy looked from Grim to Evan. “What money?”
“Dell and I visited the casino.” Evan straightened his twisted shirt. “We won a little money. It was fun.”
Grim clenched his jaw. “Three million of your dollars is not a little bit of money.”

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