Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb - Lexi George Page 0,39
much, do you, Big ’Un?”
“I do not like you at all.”
“Ditto. What say we call a truce, for the Lollipop’s sake?”
“If you were truly disquieted on Sassy’s behalf, you would leave.”
“Ain’t gonna happen.”
“Very well.” Grim crossed his arms, mimicking Evan’s stance. “What do you propose?”
“I know Hannah. I know demons and demonoids. And I hate that frigging witch.” Evan’s eyes glowed. “The enemy of your enemy is your friend. You can’t be everywhere at once. I can be your eyes and ears when you’re off slaying dragons.”
“There are dragons in Hannah?”
“God, I hope not.” Evan shuddered. “Saw one once. Scared the bejesus out of me. I’m saying I can keep Sassy out of trouble.” He made a face. “Or help, anyway.”
“I will take care of Sassy.”
Evan snorted. “Oh, yeah, like you did today? That worked out well.”
Grim was silent. Evan had a point, damn him. From the satisfied expression on the demonoid’s face, Evan knew it, too.
“Think about it.” Evan strolled for the door.
Grim reached a decision. In truth, he had no choice. Conall had ordered him to keep an eye on Evan, and a Dalvahni warrior did his duty. Let the demonoid think they were reluctant allies on a mission to keep Sassy unharmed.
“Very well,” Grim said. “I accept your offer.”
Evan turned, his eyes narrowed in distrust. “What’s the catch?”
“Catch?”
“When a demon hunter makes nice, I get nervous. Why do I get the feeling this is going to come back to bite me?”
“I do not know. Perhaps you are suspicious by nature.”
“It’s called self-preservation. I watch out for myself, and I don’t trust anyone, especially demon hunters.”
“Watch out for Sassy, and you and I will have no quarrel.”
“We’re already in a fight. I’ve seen the way you look at her, like she’s a pork chop and it’s Meatless Monday.” Evan shrugged. “Not that I blame you. Sassy’s special.”
“Too special for the likes of you.”
“Guess we’ll see about that, won’t we?” Evan yawned. “I’m whipped. I’m hitting the sack. Why don’t you be a good little demon hunter and boost us a ride? Sassy will want to go to town tomorrow. We need wheels.”
He ambled out of the kitchen with easy grace.
“What do you make of that, Provider?” Grim asked when Evan had gone.
I find his description of your attraction to Sassy rather apt.
Grim said something foul in Yarthac.
You are vexed. My remark was meant as a gentle jest, a light-hearted exchange between comrades in arms.
“Spare me. Evan wishes me to fetch some sort of conveyance for Sassy?”
Correct. There is a place in town where you can purchase such a thing on the morrow. Humans call them automobiles.
Grim pushed away from the counter. “Nay, I will do it now. I will fetch the carriage from the creek.”
It would be unwise to dematerialize in your condition. You are still under the influence.
“You are mistaken.” Grim made it to the kitchen door and grabbed the jamb for balance. “The Dal regenerate at an accelerated rate. Even now, the chocolate is leaving my system.”
The container you emptied was quite large. And we do not know what effect the fairy dust may have.
“I am not pixilated,” Grim said. “I will dematerialize and return forthwith. Sassy is a-bed?”
The Provider heaved a sigh of resignation. Yes.
“And Evan?”
Upstairs in his room. His energy levels are weak. The change appears to have exhausted him.
“Good. Watch them while I am gone.”
Grim disconnected and staggered out of the house, passing through the shield without incident. Taking a deep breath of the night air, he concentrated. To his satisfaction, the familiar pulling sensation swept over him. The woods around him stretched and thinned like molasses candy.
He materialized in a clearing. His brain spun and his gut roiled. Swaying, he looked around. Huge trees crowded the glade, dark green giants hunched against the dark sky, but he did not recognize his surroundings.
Perhaps a stroll would clear his head. Help him get his bearings.
He took a lurching step and lost his balance, landing on his back like an upended crab. He tried to get up, but his muscles refused to cooperate.
“Something is seriously amiss,” he remarked aloud.
The process of dematerializing and rematerializing has exacerbated the effects of the chocolate. No doubt the fairy dust has worsened your condition. The Provider’s dusty voice was reproving. I warned you how it would be.
“Party pooper.”
I beg your pardon?
“Par-ty poop-er. It is an expression. It means you are not amusing.”
I know what it means. Get up.
“I prefer not to.”
Shall I fetch someone to assist you? Duncan, perhaps?