Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb - Lexi George Page 0,125
temporary solution. Plain and simple, the mill made Sassy sick.
She’d put out feelers for another buyer, but that would take time. Selling to Aunt Susan was not an option. Sassy had accepted that Trey—not Aunt Susan—was behind the troubles at the mill, but that didn’t mean she trusted the demonoid. Susan Grace Peterson Gordan Gordan Cherry Woody Harwood was Blake Peterson’s twin, and Blake Peterson had been a full-tilt psycho.
Sassy glanced at her husband. Husband. A shiver of delight shot through her. They’d been married two weeks and it seemed a happy dream. Mama had thawed a little. She was making plans for a second ceremony to be held in Fairhope sometime in September.
“Nothing extravagant,” Mama had announced on the phone. “Something small and tasteful. You’ll be married at Saint James, of course.”
Tasteful, no doubt. Small was a relative term. Eleanor Champion’s only daughter was getting married. That meant pulling out the stops.
To Sassy’s surprise, Grim had jumped on board.
“This ceremony will bind us by human law as well as Dalvahni?” he asked.
“Yes,” Sassy had said, “But—”
“Then we will be married in the church.”
O-k-a-a-y. Twist her arm. Make her marry her demon hunter all over again.
“Still no word from Dell?” Sassy asked.
Sassy sensed the undercurrent of unease behind Grim’s stoic exterior.
“No. You?”
Sassy shook her head. “Not a peep.” Grim frowned and she added, “But I’m sure he’s fine. He’s the Provider.”
“No longer. My inquiries are addressed as they were before Dell came into being.”
Meaning Grim’s questions were answered by the dry, disembodied information source used by the rest of the Dalvahni. Cold. Emotionless. Incapable of carrying on a two-way conversation. And with zero interest in expressions, Yarthac or otherwise.
Dell had vanished. Even Kehvahn did not know where he had gone. Grim had asked.
Grim was worried and hurt by his old friend’s absence. Sassy felt his pain like her own. How dare Dell put him through this? If Dell had a butt, Sassy would kick it.
“Dell is fine,” Sassy assured Grim. “I’ll bet he’s somewhere right now learning Bubba Speak.”
Grim unfolded his arms. Crossing the room, he gazed out the window into the mill yard. Sassy touched the talisman around her throat, and Grim’s aura came into view. He was troubled and grieved, the halo around him tinged with guilt.
Rising from the desk, Sassy went to him. She put her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his solid back. Heat radiated from his big body. She breathed in his familiar woodsy scent. Mother-of-pearl, she loved him.
“What’s wrong, Grim? I know you’re worried about Dell, but there’s more. Tell me.”
When he spoke, his words were halting. “Kehvahn says I made Dell in my loneliness. What if I . . . somehow unmade him when I no longer needed him?”
“Is that what’s worrying you?” Sassy gave him a quick hug and stepped back. “Dell is your friend. You wouldn’t unmake him, even if you could.”
Grim turned from the window. “He kept me sane in my isolation. I regret to say I was not always kind to him. I cannot shake the notion that something has happened to him. I feel it in my bones.”
“Dell will be back. You’ll see.”
Grim’s stern expression softened. “Have I told you today how beautiful you are?”
“Beautiful in jeans and a tee shirt?” Sassy laughed. “Hardly.”
Grim cupped her bottom in his big hands and tugged her close. Sassy’s breath hitched when she felt the bulge in his jeans. Grim was aroused.
“You are lovely no matter what you wear.” His voice was rough with desire. “I have itched to touch you all morning.”
“You’re touching me now.”
Grim’s slow smile heated her blood. “So I am.”
He took her mouth in a searing kiss.
“Grim the wanderer, tethered at last. Married life suits you, brother.”
Duncan stood in the doorway. There was an air of expectancy about him and a vibrating tension. He was dressed in hunting leathers. His broad shoulders blocked the opening.
“Brother.” Grim released Sassy. “What brings you here?”
“I bring tidings of the witch.”
Duncan stepped out of the doorway and into the room. He had someone with him, an older gentleman.
“You remember Mr. Collier, do you not?”
“Aye.” Grim acknowledged the older man. “Sassy, however, may not.”
Sassy recalled her fairy fit at the restaurant with a blush. She’d turned into the purple whatzit and gobbled up the dessert case.
“From the Sweet Shop,” she said. “Of course I remember.”
“Nice to see you again.” Mr. Collier waggled a coat hanger around. “Some kind of devilment afoot. Contrabulator’s been whining for two days.”