Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb - Lexi George Page 0,17
of her hand, smearing her face with dirt. “I don’t like it when people fuss. I want people to be happy a-and kind to one another.”
“As I suppose you were being kind to me when you struck me in the nose?” Grim murmured, examining her ankle.
“Ow. That hurts.” Sassy tried to jerk her foot from his grasp. “That’s different. You deserved it.”
“Be still.” He concentrated, pouring his heat and energy into Sassy. “So, humans deserve your forbearance, but I do not?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, you let your fist do the talking. And most eloquently, I might add. You are stronger than you look.”
“Mixed martial arts and kickboxing. I take classes.”
“Fisticuffs?”
“Sort of, I guess. It keeps me in shape. My stepfather wanted me to be able to protect myself.”
“You are an apt pupil, as my nose can attest. As for your desire to make others happy, I wish you luck. Humans, in my experience, are mercurial and seldom worth the trouble.”
“People rise to your expectations,” Sassy said with a little of her former vigor. “I expect them to be kind, and they almost always are.”
“And I expect them to be a sorry lot and they rarely disappoint.”
“You get what you look for.” Sassy flexed her foot. “Hey, the swelling’s gone. My foot doesn’t hurt anymore. How’d you do that?”
“Surely you do not expect me to tell you all my secrets.”
“You haven’t told me anything. I don’t even know your name.”
“I am Grimford.”
Sassy got to her feet. “Thank you, Grimford, for healing my foot, but I think you should leave now. There’s a witch after me.”
She was trying to protect him. The notion was amusing and, at the same time, oddly touching. Danger, duty, and the hunt were the Dalvahni way. The Dal were extremely powerful and death came seldom to them.
It came for Gryff. Unbidden, the thought drifted through Grim’s head. Had you been there, he would not have died.
He had failed his brother. The knowledge settled in Grim’s bones, a familiar, leaden weight he had carried for years. He pushed it away. Gryff was beyond help, slain in a djegrali ambush centuries ago. This female was not.
“I do not fear this witch.”
“I do. She’s horrible.”
“I did not see—” Grim paused. “Hold. Are you saying the witch and the Howling Hag are one and the same?”
“The Howling Hag—is that what she’s called?”
“According to my brother Duncan. Legend has it she craves human flesh.”
“It’s not a legend. It’s true. She was fattening Evan up to eat him.”
Grim’s amusement fled. “Who is Evan?”
“The big guy on the roof.”
“You know that monster by name?”
“He’s not a monster.” Sassy paused. “Or at least, he wasn’t until the witch showed up. I don’t think it’s his fault. I think it’s something he ate.”
“You helped him escape.” Things were becoming clear. “That is why the Hag is wroth with you.”
“Y-e-e-s, although, to be honest, I don’t think she’s exactly thrilled about the fairies.”
“Fairies?”
“They were in a cage. She was juicing them.” Sassy shook her head as though to purge the memory. “I let them go. I opened a jar and this shiny stuff hit me in the face.”
“Ah, you ingested fairy essence. That explains the glow.”
“I did not—Why does everybody keep saying that? I told the witch it was an accident. She’s still ticked.”
Ticked? Grim processed the strange term.
Parasitic insects that feed on animals in this world, the Provider said in a monotone. The term can also refer to fabric or animal fur flecked with color, or the material covering a mattress or pillow. Humans sometimes use it to indicate anger or distress.
“The latter, definitely,” Grim said.
Sassy blinked at him. “Huh?”
“Nothing.” Grim disconnected from the Provider. “I will protect you from the witch.”
“Why? You don’t know me.”
“As you so astutely observed, I am responsible for your predicament.” Grim shrugged. “Besides, I am Dalvahni. We are sworn to shield lesser creatures.”
“Gee, thanks.” Sassy’s tone was dry as the Provider’s. “You sure know how to flatter a girl.”
“Flattery is but a means of dissemblance. The Dal do not lie.”
“I’m getting that. Bet you’re a hoot and a holler at parties.”
“I would not know. I have never been to a party.”
“Never?” Sassy sounded shocked. “That’s awful. I love parties.”
“Somehow, that does not surprise me.”
He scooped her up in his arms and got to his feet. The light, flowery scent of her hair tickled his nose. The rest of her smelled warm and earthy, a not unpleasant result of her flight through the woods. Grim breathed her in, committing the scent