Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb - Lexi George Page 0,55
in the ignition. Nothing happened. “Told ya.”
“It’s got to work.” Sassy yanked the driver’s door open. “I can’t tell Daddy Joel I killed his car. Let me try.”
Evan shrugged and climbed out of the convertible. “Knock yourself out, but you’re wasting your time.”
He strolled over to the front steps and sat down. Sassy scooted into the driver’s seat.
Taryn leaned over her shoulder. “Are you a—what is the word?—a mechanic?”
“I know where the key goes. Does that count?” Sassy squeezed her eyes shut and patted the elegant dash. “Come on, baby. Start for Sassy.”
She turned the key, and the car burped to life with a loud backfire.
Taryn sprang back with a startled exclamation. “By the vessel, what ails the thing?”
“Nothing, nothing at all.” Sassy pumped her fist in the air as the engine settled into a smooth purr. “Listen to that beautiful sound.”
Evan gave Grim a sour look. “You used magic. That’s cheating.”
“Says who?” Sassy planted a kiss on the trident symbol in the leather center of the wheel. “Maybe Grim didn’t use magic. Maybe Mea wouldn’t start for you because you didn’t ask nicely.”
“Mea Maserati?” Evan groaned. “Oh, God. You’re one of those chicks who name everything.”
“Not everything. Important things, like cars.”
“And fish,” Grim murmured.
“I didn’t name Gilbert, the witch did.”
Evan straightened. “Who’s Gilbert?”
“A giant catfish,” Sassy said. “He’s over a hundred years old. The witch hand-fed him from a guppy. It supersized him. Like you.”
“I am not a fish.”
“No, but Monster Evan is a big boy because of something the witch fed you, same as Gilbert.”
“And you know this . . . how?” Evan asked.
“Gilbert told me.”
“You speak catfish?”
“And bird.” Sassy thought about this. “I’m not sure if I speak all bird. The one I met this morning was certainly chatty. And I met my fairy god grump.”
“Your what?” Evan held up his hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“A wise choice.” Opening the car door, Grim wedged his big body into the passenger seat. “Sometimes ignorance is bliss.”
“Have you removed the shield, Big ’Un?” Evan asked. “I’m not in the mood to fry my ass.”
“The shield is down.”
Evan grunted in relief.
Sassy rummaged in the glove box and trotted out a green leather wristlet. “Yay—my emergency wallet. Daddy Joel insists I carry a spare. Isn’t he sweet?”
“Precious.” Evan rose from the steps. “Is Daddy Joel in the pickle biz, too?”
“Ever heard of Champ’s Chicken Fingers?”
“Sure.”
“That’s Daddy Joel. Thirty-five stores in the Deep South and counting.”
“Holy shat, Sassafras, did you screw a leprechaun? Nobody’s that lucky.”
Sassy giggled. “It’s only money, Evan.”
“Only rich people say that.”
Evan folded his long legs into the backseat. Taryn got in beside him. The huntress resembled an actor in a Renaissance fair in her medieval garb.
Sassy shifted into gear, and the sports car glided down the wooded drive and onto the two-lane county road leading to town. The highway wound through a thick forest of oaks, maples, hickories, and the ever-present Southern pine. Along the grassy berms slender stalks of wild iris bloomed and oak leaf hydrangeas rambled, white fronds stirring in the breeze.
It was a glorious day. The sun was shining. The sky was so blue it hurt your eyes, and the temperature was mild. It wouldn’t last. Spring in Alabama wasn’t so much a season as a moment. By the end of the month, the oppressive heat of summer would hammer down, leaving the South gasping for breath and sweating like a chipmunk on a griddle.
Her time in Hannah wouldn’t last, either. In a few hours, she’d be headed to Fairhope. Tomorrow she’d be back at the gift shop, selling gherkin pops and dill pickle sauce to tourists.
Her adventure would be over.
Sassy’s throat tightened. With a twinge of annoyance, she shrugged off her gloom.
Why mope? She had today. She’d make the most of it.
What else should she add to her bucket list? Something fun and exciting, pretty please with sprinkles on top. She sent the thought out into the universe.
She rounded a curve and passed a Jeep Cherokee sitting at the end of a dirt road. The Cherokee pulled onto the highway in a cloud of red dust and caught up with them. The flash of blue lights on top of the SUV kicked Sassy’s heart into overdrive.
“Oh, snap.” Sassy gripped the wheel. “We’re being stopped by the police.”
She eased the car onto the grass. The Jeep parked behind them and a tall, broad-shouldered man in a brown uniform got out. Handsome, with a strong jaw and a wide, firm-lipped mouth, the officer