Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb - Lexi George Page 0,109
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