Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb - Lexi George Page 0,65

it. It was intrusive and sad. Sassy didn’t do sad.

“Hel-lo?” Evan waved his hand in her face. “Where’d you go?”

Sassy rubbed her palm against her thigh. Maybe if she rubbed hard enough, she could wipe the images from her mind.

“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

Evan jerked his chin in the direction of the office. “Blake’s twin shows up after a fifty-year absence. Coinkydink? I don’t think so.”

Sassy’s head spun. In a span of moments, she’d fallen down the rabbit hole into Evan’s memories and learned her grandfather was a very bad man and her brother had trafficked with demons.

Small wonder Mama had fled from Hannah. The Peterson side of her family was a cross between The Sopranos and The Adams Family.

“She’s trying to pick up where Trey left off and make a deal with the demons,” Evan said. “Why else would she be in this one-horse town?”

Sassy thought about this. “Why buy the mill?”

Evan lifted his shoulders. “Who knows? Maybe she plans to use the mill as a cover.”

Grim gave Evan a look that made Sassy shiver. “Or mayhap her business is with you. You admit you are in league with the djegrali. You had dealings with Trey and knowledge of this weapon. You can name your price.”

“Was in league with the demons. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve been in Ora Mae’s shed the past month.”

“So you say. Perhaps you are in bed with the witch as well.”

“Please.” Evan shuddered. “Spare me that image.”

Sassy gave Grim a Look. “The witch was fattening Evan up to eat him. They are not besties. If you want to know more about this—this weapon thingy, ask Conall.”

“Yeah,” Evan said, flapping his hand at Grim. “What she said.”

Mr. Marvin came out on the porch and peered down the sidewalk at them. “Everything okay? Mrs. Harwood’s waiting in my office. Tilda’s made coffee.”

“Showtime.” Evan gave Sassy a questioning look. “Think you can handle this?”

“Of course.” Sassy tucked a stray curl behind her ear to hide her nervousness. “She can’t make me sell the mill.”

“Don’t underestimate her, Lollipop. She’s a halfsie like me, half demon, half human.”

Sassy did some quick calculating. If her grandfather was a halfsie did that make her an octoroid?

No, absolutely not. She refused to be called anything so indelicate. It sounded like something you’d find on a tube of Preparation H. Apply to affected area three times a day for relief of swelling and itching.

“I’ll be careful,” she promised.

Inside, they found Taryn sitting on a couch holding a steaming mug in one hand.

She took a sip and made a face. “Bitter. It smells better than it tastes.”

“I’ve always thought so,” Sassy said. “Try a little sugar in it.”

Taryn dumped half the sugar bowl into her mug and took another sip.

She set the cup down with a clatter. “Now it is too sweet.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “What a Goldilocks.”

“Tilda, get the lady a fresh cup.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Marvin.” Tilda batted her eyes at Grim. “What about you? You interested in something hot?”

Sassy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Could the woman be more obvious?

Tilda pressed her large bosom against Grim. “If you are, I’ve got something for you.”

The answer was a resounding yes.

Grim peeled Tilda off like a wet bathing suit. “No, thank you. I do not care for a libation.”

“Sassy?” Mr. Marvin gestured toward his office. “Shall we join your aunt? She’s waiting.”

Sassy’s stomach fluttered. She’d rather wear pleather shoes than disappoint anyone, and Susan Harwood was about to be majorly hairballed.

Grim seemed to sense her anxiety, and moved to her side.

“I will accompany you,” he said.

Sassy wavered. It would be such a comfort to have Grim with her when she reneged on the deal with Susan. She straightened her spine. Her forefathers hadn’t conquered the pickle industry by being cowards. Time to prove she was a chip off the old dill.

“No, thank you,” she said. “That won’t be necessary.”

Head high, Sassy walked into the office. The room smelled of pipe tobacco, leather books, and paper. Susan was seated in a button leg chair. Posture erect, her shapely legs pressed together at the knees and ankles, she was the picture of bored elegance, except for the volcanic vapor cloud floating around her head.

Mr. Marvin seemed unaware of the pyrotechnics. Lucky guy.

He shut the door, closing the three of them inside, and directed Sassy to a chair beside her aunt. The ball of dread in Sassy’s stomach solidified as Mr. Marvin took a seat behind his mahogany desk. Clasping her hands in her