Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb - Lexi George Page 0,85

Kir have with the captain of the Dalvahni? The Kir and the Dal were entities unto themselves. Two races devoted to the same cause but indifferent to one another, if not hostile.

As curious as Grim was about the matter, he was eager to be done with the meeting and return to Sassy. The realization made him grimace. By the sword, Evan was right. He was a mother hen.

More like a randy rooster, he thought, adjusting his still-aching cock. Dear gods, he was pathetic, wanting what he could not have.

Perhaps that was the sum of it, a longing for greener pastures, something untried. If so, there were many thralls in the House of Bliss yet to sample. A session or three should ease his hunger. As soon as the witch was dealt with and Sassy was safe.

He considered the notion and rejected it. There was but one cure for his affliction, and it lay not with the thralls.

He turned at a loud crash and saw two blazing eyes bearing down on him. With a startled curse, he produced his sword to dispatch the monster, relaxing when he realized that his ‘attack’ was the motorized carriage with Taryn behind the wheel.

Evan burst out onto the porch and halted at the top of the brick steps.

“Are you crazy?” Evan stared at the large hole in the garage door. “You’re supposed to open the damn thing, not drive through it.”

“Really?” Taryn’s serene expression did not change. “I shall strive to remember that in future. Shall we be off?”

“You’re a menace.” Evan looked ready to explode. “You shouldn’t be allowed to drive.”

Taryn arched a brow. “Worry not, little billy goat. The door shall be repaired. Do you accompany us or not?”

Muttering to himself, Evan climbed in the backseat. Their journey to the appointed meeting place passed without further incident . . . aside from a minor brush or two with other carriages. However, once Taryn got it firmly fixed in her mind which side of the road she was supposed to drive on, the remainder of the trip was uneventful.

The quarry was located on the river some two leagues outside of town. It had once been a thriving business, Evan explained after some prodding, until rising costs and government rules had closed it down. It was a favorite haunt for local teens, who enjoyed running their vehicles up and down the sandy hills, an activity they called “duning.”

“But nobody hangs around at night,” Evan said. “Place is supposed to be haunted.”

A grass-choked dirt road led from the paved highway to the quarry. A pair of rusted metal gates stood ajar, mired in deep banks of sand. Beyond the gates the dunes waited, pale, silent giants with their backs to the river. Grim had the fanciful notion that, given a call to arms, the dunes would rise up against some long-expected enemy.

Nonsense, of course. Yet there was a still quality about the place that inspired unease and wanderings of the imagination. Perhaps it was the eerie quiet, unbroken save for the muted slosh of the river and the soft moan of the wind among the caramel hills.

The car nosed past the entrance and stopped. Taryn tapped her boot against the pedal, but the car did not budge.

She tapped the pedal again. “What is the matter with it? Is the machine not supposed to go forward when I push the lever?”

“Maybe Mea doesn’t like sand.” Evan hunched his shoulders. “Or maybe this joint gives her the creeps, like me.”

Grim got out of the car. “I do not see Conall. Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Yeah. Only quarry around.”

Taryn bounded from the carriage with the lithe grace of her kind. “Perhaps Conall waits within. What say we stretch our legs?”

Shaking his head, Evan joined them. “Not a good idea. I think we should wait till the sun comes up. Something tells me whatever’s in there is less active in daylight.”

“Stay here, if you will,” Grim said. “I am going in.”

“I will go with you,” said Taryn.

Evan sighed. “I thought you bozos would say that. You heroic types give me a pain.”

They went through the gates together, two warriors matching stride for stride with the rangy demonoid. They passed through the entryway, and the wind ceased. Silence settled around them, heavy and unbroken, save for the squelch of their feet in the sand. The odd trio trudged between looming mountains of sand to the river, where the scent of sunbaked sand mingled with the damp, muddy perfume