Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb - Lexi George Page 0,76
her a drunken leer. “You’re tough, Red. Bet you’re a tiger in the sack. Marry me?”
“Tempting, but no.”
“Aw, Red.”
Sassy cleared her throat. “Um . . . how’d I get in the bed?”
“Grim.” Taryn flipped the knife end over end in a glittering arc, and caught it. “He found you lying on the floor, unconscious. He seemed quite put out that you did not wait for his assistance.”
“Grim can be notional. Where is he?”
“A human male came to the door.” Taryn tossed the knife again. “Something about repairing a communication device. The badge on the human’s shirt read Behr Telephone. Grim went to ensure it is not some trick of the djegrali.”
“A telephone repairman?” Sassy frowned in puzzlement. “How on earth did the phone company know we have a line out?”
“A woman in town took care of it.”
“How thoughtful. Aren’t small towns wonderful?”
“Delightful.”
“I know, right? What’s her name? I need to write her a thank-you note.”
“I do not recall.” Taryn’s tone was dry. “I was otherwise occupied.”
“You mean . . . Oh.” Sassy flushed. “Is it true you recorded my . . . um . . . episode?”
“Yes,” Taryn said. “Our ability allows us to reconstruct things with precision.”
Slipping the knife into the strap on her thigh, the huntress raised her hand and a shining polka dot appeared.
Mose tossed his empty cup aside and scampered up the bed like a drunken monkey. “Oh, this is good. I’ve watched it a dozen times, but it never gets old.”
The Dalmatian got up and trotted over to watch. Good grief, she was on supernatural YouTube.
The dot thinned and widened, and a scene from the interior of the Sweet Shop came into focus. As Sassy watched in horror, the Sassy in the video morphed into a winged creature and attacked the dessert cabinet.
“Shiitake mushrooms,” she yelped. “I am a purple whatzit. And I ate a million calories.”
“Yep,” Mose said. “That noise like a volcano about to erupt? That’s you.”
The purple whatzit opened its mouth, belching with enough force to rattle the tin ceiling.
Sassy shrank against the headboard. “That never came out of my mouth.”
“A beaut, wasn’t it?” Mose straightened his crooked hat. “Wait. It gets better. Here comes the finish.”
The dark fairy barfed out a mountain of fluffy white foam that covered the restaurant and everyone in it in meringue.
When the film ended, Sassy was speechless.
“Some show, huh?” Mose opened his grimy fist and dropped three fat berries in Sassy’s lap. “Eat. Sildhjort says.”
Sassy poked at the berries. They looked like a cross between a blueberry and a blackberry. “Will they make the purple whatzit go away forever?”
“Of course not. The purple whatzit is you.”
“Don’t be silly, Mose. That was the fairy potion, not me.”
Mose’s ugly face softened. “You were years overdue for a meltdown, Puss. No one can keep everyone happy all the time. I’m surprised you didn’t blow sooner.”
“But I like making people happy.”
“You don’t know what you like. You’re repressed. That’s why you blasted nasty today.”
“I’m not repressed. I’m bubbly and vivacious and—and sassy.”
He hopped off the bed, reeling on unsteady feet. “Fine, have it your way. But don’t come crying to me when somebody gets hurt because you’re in denial.”
He began to fade around the edges.
“Wait,” Sassy cried. “If the berries aren’t for the purple whatzit, what are they for?”
“Sugar poisoning,” Mose said. “You overdosed. Big time. Eat the wellberries. They’ll make you feel better. Or stay in bed a month. Up to you.”
He vanished.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Evan zoomed down the highway in Daddy Joel’s convertible. The late afternoon air was heavy with the scent of approaching rain. The top was down, the wind was in his hair, and the Maserati was a damn fine machine.
He’d jacked dozens of cars for his god demons, but nothing this classy. Expensive cars got noticed, and he and the ’rents had lived under the radar, changing locations and identities to stay a step ahead of the law.
Demons went through bodies like Kleenex. It had been Evan’s job to bring them fresh skins. He took the smack back if he failed. He learned early on and fast to anticipate their needs. Demons are high maintenance, so it was a full-time job. Not enough time to eat or sleep—too busy. Motion was the key to survival. Moving, always moving. Don’t stay still. Don’t think. Don’t feel.
Keep moving. Run fast enough and nothing sticks.
He kept running after Hagilth and Elgdrek were dead. Been on the hamster wheel so long he didn’t know how to get off.