his old life held no appeal.
They rumbled onto a structure that spanned a rushing watercourse.
“The Trammell Bridge.” Sassy slowed the car so they could admire the view. “It’s a five-span rainbow arch over the Devil River. Isn’t it pretty?”
Grim was not looking at the bridge. He was looking at Sassy’s legs. Sassy’s legs were pretty, slim and well-shaped. Those damnable shoes of hers showed them to advantage, as did the short tunic she wore. The play of her calf and thigh muscles beneath her smooth skin as she shifted her foot on the carriage pedals fascinated and distracted him.
Yesterday, he’d deemed her merely pretty. Today, no thrall was half so tempting. He forced his gaze onto the water. It was that or ravish her in front of Evan and Taryn.
That kiss . . . Sweet gods, the memory of that kiss haunted him.
The river rushed below. Rocks bared their teeth in the tumbling water, hungry titans eager to bite and gnash.
Sassy continued her dissertation on the bridge. “The arches are made of reinforced concrete. It’s one of a kind. Isn’t that cool?”
Evan grunted from the backseat. “Never figured you for a history dweeb, Lollipop.”
“I read about it in a book called the Ghosts of Behr County,” Sassy said. “The bridge was built in 1931 to replace the old iron one. A lot of the locals were unhappy about it. They believed the iron in the old bridge kept evil from crossing the river. Folks were so upset the mayor enlisted the help of a local witch, Cybil Ferguson, to cast a spell. The bridge will vanish in times of need. The townsfolk were happy and the mayor got reelected.”
“A vanishing bridge,” Evan said. “If that ain’t typical Hannah. Ground zero for freaky.”
“I think it’s a clever little town.” Sassy guided the vehicle past the last arch of the bridge. “Look at the trees. Aren’t they glorious?”
“Totally presh.”
“Sourpuss.” Sassy made a face at Evan in the mirror. “Stop making fun of me.”
“Like never, my breezy.”
The easy camaraderie between Sassy and Evan made Grim want to smash something, preferably Evan. He focused on the town of Hannah instead.
The village was quaint, a small hamlet tucked in a rumple of wooded hills. Neat shops shaded by spreading oaks lined a thoroughfare dubbed Main Street. The glass storefronts sparkled in the morning sun. Pedestrian walkways were swept clean. People strolled past, stopping to chat with one another.
No one seemed in a hurry. An atmosphere of charm permeated the place, as though the town lay under a spell, untouched by the care and frenzy of the outside world.
A safe place, a refuge, or so most denizens of Hannah assumed. Appearances could be deceiving. The town had secrets, dangerous secrets. Secrets many of the simple folk dwelling here did not suspect.
Sassy turned down a side street and stopped under a tree in front of a one-story brick dwelling. The structure was simple but inviting, with a wraparound porch and wooden steps.
Sassy shut down the engine and sat without moving, her gaze on the rustling leaves overhead.
“Sassy?” Grim watched her in concern. “Is something awry?”
“No.” She gave him a smile that did not reach her eyes. “This is the lawyer’s office. I need to speak with him about the buyer for the mill.”
“Excellent,” Taryn said. “Grimford will take me to Conall whilst you conduct your business within.”
Grim got out of the vehicle. “No. I stay with Sassy. Soul-sucking evil may lurk behind these walls.”
Evan sat up and stretched. “There’s a lawyer in there. You can bet on it.”
“But Conall—” Taryn protested.
“Will have to wait.” Grim’s tone was final. He walked around the automobile, and opened the door for Sassy. “I will take you to Conall once Sassy is safe.”
Once she was out of town and beyond the Hag’s reach. Once she was out of his reach. Out of his life forever.
The knowledge was a heavy weight.
Sassy swung her shapely legs out of the vehicle and Grim forgot his melancholy.
Sassy slipped the green wallet over her wrist. “Evan, you and Taryn can poke around Main Street while I speak to Mr. Marvin. I should be through in a jiffy.”
Evan got out of the vehicle. “Nah, I’ll tag along. This lawyer fellow could be kith.”
“Jim Marvin is not a demonoid,” Sassy said. “He’s a nice old man.”
“You’re demonoid, and you’re nice.”
“Oh, piffle.”
Sassy flounced down the sidewalk, moving with assurance and feminine grace in spite of the outrageous stilts she called shoes.
Stilts designed by Pratt to tempt masculine kind, Grim