Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb - Lexi George Page 0,8

their precious heir. Whoa, was that bitterness? Sassy Peterson didn’t do bitter.

“Trey stayed to protect you and your mother,” Junior said with a melancholy smile. “You were the lucky one, my dear. You got away.”

“Away from what?”

“You’re not ready to hear it. Why are you in Hannah? Are you taking the reins of the Peterson empire?”

“Certainly not,” Sassy said. “I’ve got a buyer for the mill. I’m signing the papers at the lawyer’s office this afternoon.”

Junior raised his brows. “I’m afraid you’ve missed your appointment. It’s almost dark.”

“I’m sure it won’t be a problem. I’ll reschedule for tomorrow morning.”

“What about the rest?” There was a hint of reproach in Junior’s voice. “Your brother left everything to you—the mill, the land, the money.”

“Phooey on the Petersons and their stupid money. I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it.” Sassy’s voice rose. “That goes double for you, mister.”

Marshmallows, was she shouting? And talking about money was tacky.

Junior arched a patrician brow. “Trey’s not the only one with issues. Will you be staying at his place tonight? Or, I should say, your place, since Trey left his house to you.”

“No.” Oh, dear, she was yelling again. What on earth was the matter with her? She looked down. Her hands were balled into fists. “I’ll stay at a hotel.”

“This is Hannah. There are no hotels, unless you count the Hannah Inn, which I most certainly do not. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay at Trey’s.” A dog bayed in the distance, and Junior cocked his head. “Listen. Sounds like he’s down by the river—probably chasing that big deer again. I’d best go find him. For a dog, he has no sense of direction. There’s a house not far from here. Stick to the trail. You’ll come to it.”

His form stretched and grew wispy as smoke.

“When you get to Trey’s, watch out for her,” Junior said, fading from view. “She’s an absolute shrew. There’s another word for her. It rhymes with ‘runt,’ but I don’t use that kind of language.”

“Hello?” Sassy searched the gloom. “Hello?”

Junior was gone.

Night had fallen. The woods were inky without the ghost’s luminous form, and the trail was hard to see in the dim light. The surrounding scrub and towering trees took on nightmarish shapes in the darkness. Here a hungry goblin. There a towering giant reaching with bony hands to seize her.

Alarm trickled down her spine.

“Get a grip, Sassy,” she said. “You’re not a child, afraid of the dark.”

When she was little, she’d make a pallet on the floor of her mother’s big walk-in closet. Turning out the lights, she’d lie in the dark and pretend she was camping in the woods with her big brother. It had been one of her favorite games.

This was no different, she told herself. Minus her mother’s impressive shoe collection, plus a little more nature. Okay, a lot more nature. No biggie. She would stay on the trail, find the house Junior mentioned, and telephone for help.

Or she would wake up in a hospital bed and discover this had been a dream. Either way, she would be fine. Better than fine; she would be great. Anything less was unacceptable.

A branch snapped in the darkness. Something big moved through the woods, swooshing the leaves. Sassy recalled the twisted she-monster on the bridge and broke out in a cold sweat.

Hide; she needed to hide.

Sassy scurried off the trail and crouched behind a large oak. Pressing her fist to her mouth, she swallowed the scream lodged at the back of her throat. Was it the monster from the road? Oh, God, please don’t let it be the monster from the road.

She squeezed her body close to the tree, closed her eyes, and waited. A twig cracked, the sound as loud as a gunshot in the silent woods. It was coming closer. Should she look?

No, she definitely should not look. She should stay where she was and pray that it went away.

Please, please make it go away.

The forest seemed to hold its breath; waiting, still. The silence stretched, heavy and tense, until Sassy wanted to scream.

She had to look. She had to know. The not-knowing was driving her nuts.

She peeked around the oak. An enormous white stag stepped out of the woods and into view. Sassy’s eyes widened. He was bright as a fallen star in the dusk. Silver antlers sprang from his noble head. He pawed the ground, and a potpourri of scents filled the air: icy spring water, rain, and frost; damp earth and