Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb - Lexi George Page 0,26
my stepfather.”
“Nonetheless, should he threaten you—”
“I was exaggerating, silly.” Sassy sighed. “But he’s not going to be happy about his car.”
“You are fond of him?”
“Yes. He’s been good to me and he loves my mom.”
“Then I will refrain from annihilating him.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“And do not worry about the carriage. I will see to it.”
“How? It’s swimming with the fishes.”
Again with the pause, like he was checking her words against a reference sheet. “You mean submerged?”
“Exactly.” Sassy propped her chin in her hand, studying him. “Why do I sometimes get the feeling that we’re having a three-way conversation?”
“The Dal travel far and wide in pursuit of the djegrali, to worlds where we do not know the customs or the language. To aid us in our task, we have access to an information source and a converter.”
“Oh, how clever.” Sassy bounced in delight. “Like a super translator and Mr. Google rolled into one.”
His eyes unfocused and cleared again. “The Provider says the comparison is not inaccurate.”
“The Provider . . . that’s what you call him?”
“The Provider is not a ‘he,’ precisely, but that is correct.”
“Ooh, let me talk to him.”
“You cannot. Our dialogue is internal.”
“You hear voices?”
Grim made a face. “One voice never ceasing. The Provider’s appetite for discourse knows no bounds.”
“Poor ’Vider. Maybe he’s lonely.”
“He is not lonely. He enjoys hearing himself pontificate.”
“Goodness, that’s not very nice. If you hurt his feelings, he may not talk to you.”
“Oh, to be so accursed.”
Sassy laughed.
Grim closed the space between them in a blur of movement.
“That is a lovely sound.” His gruff voice danced along her nerve endings. “I would hear it again.”
He smelled clean, a subtle fragrance of cedar mingled with herbs, male, and soap. Heat radiated from his big body. The combination of his scent and nearness made Sassy light-headed. Or maybe her sugar was low and she needed to eat.
“Make another joke and maybe I will.”
“Alas, I have not Duncan’s wit.” Wrapping one of her damp curls around his fingers, he tugged her close. “I like your hair. It suits you.”
His eyes were liquid gold. Sassy gazed up at him, breathless. Would he kiss her? Did she want him too? No, no, of course she didn’t.
“It’s a squirrel’s nest,” she said. “W-Wes will hate it.”
Grim stilled, his mouth mere inches from hers. “Who is Wes?”
“Her fiancé,” a lazy voice drawled. “She’s engaged. I heard her tell the ghost. A real pisser, ain’t it?”
With a muttered curse, Grim stepped in front of Sassy, shielding her.
Evan sauntered into the room. Gone were his scraggly beard and tangled hair. He wore his wet black hair combed back and secured at the nape of his neck, revealing classic good looks. Purple eyes glittered beneath straight, dark brows. A small silver loop dangled from his pouty bottom lip. A line of metal studs pierced the shell of one ear and a long earring dangled from the lobe. Throw in a straight nose, high cheekbones, and a strong jaw and chin, add a double dose of surly, wicked appeal, and Evan Beck was lethal.
When Sassy had let him in the house, she’d told him to help himself to the clothes in Trey’s closet. He’d taken her up on the offer, she noted with approval. He was shirtless and the jeans he’d borrowed rode low on his hips. Evan might not be built along superhero lines like Grim, but he was no wimp, either. Sleek and supple, with lean muscles and washboard abs, he moved with an easy grace and radiated health and vitality. Whatever the witch had fed him agreed with him.
“Who are you?” Grim demanded. His big body radiated barely suppressed violence.
“Name’s Evan Beck. Sassy sprang me from the witch’s shitbox.”
“You are the monster from the roof?” Grim’s sword appeared in his hand. “How did you get past the shield?”
“I was hiding in the bushes when you put it up. Nice spell work, by the way.”
“You lie. I would have sensed your presence.”
“Had a lot of dealings with demonoids?”
“None.” Grim’s grip tightened on the sword hilt. “I knew not of their existence until today.”
Evan crossed his arms. A lone tattoo encircled one toned bicep. C-o-o-k-i-e, the black and gray letters read. The name of an old girlfriend or Evan’s favorite food? Sassy wondered.
“There you go,” he said. “You didn’t know what to look for.”
“A varlet skulks in the shrubbery. You should have made yourself known forthwith.”
“I was nuts out and you were waving a sword around. Makes a guy cautious, if you know what I