Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb

by Lexi George

  “Say the words, Grim.” Sassy surged up and down his hard shaft. “Say them. Please.”

  “Love you, Sassy.” Slashes of red color stained his cheekbones. “Love you, love you, love—”

  Grim grabbed her by the waist and yanked her close, thrusting hard inside her. Burying his face against her neck, he came with a groan. The pulse of his climax sent Sassy tumbling into bliss.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Sassy drifted slowly from slumber. By rights, she should have been exhausted and sore, but she felt wonderful. Grim had been insatiable and so had she. How long had they been here? Time had no meaning in their secret haven. The hours had passed in a delicious, sensuous blur. The first night, they’d made love in the sunken tub, on the bed, the piano chair, and twice on the crystal stairs—once with Sassy bent over the rail and the second time with Grim seated on the step. He’d carried her to bed, where she’d fallen asleep in his arms with a canopy of stars twinkling overhead and the music from the grotto waterfall in her ears.

  Waking—had it been yesterday morning or the day before?—she’d eyed him in sleepy lust and delight as he rose and strode in naked splendor to a sideboard laden with food. The way Grim moved was a thing of beauty, an art form she would never weary of.

  Returning to the bed with a silver plate, he’d insisted on hand-feeding her bits of roasted meat, ripe strawberries, delicate cheeses, and soft, fresh bread. When she was full, she’d returned the favor, feeding him until he was sated.

  Then she’d sated him in a very different fashion.

  She smiled and stretched under the covers, remembering his deep moans of pleasure as she’d licked and sucked him to completion. She rolled to her side, next to him in the enormous bed. He stirred with a rumble of protest when she moved. Throwing a heavy arm over her, he tugged her close. Heat radiated from him, her own personal electric blanket. She felt the now-familiar stirrings of desire. She would never get enough of her demon hunter. Sex with Grim was a glorious adventure. Sometimes he was the alpha, commanding male, slowly teasing her until she begged for mercy. Sometimes he took her hard and fast, with hot words of encouragement, his need for her urgent and swift. At other times, she was in control. It was a heady feeling, having this brawny, gorgeous, dangerous male at her sexual beck and call. No matter who took the lead, Grim always, always, made her feel powerful. Beautiful. Desired.

  Adored.

  He kissed the back of her neck and nudged the hard length of his erection against her bare bottom. Heat coiled in her belly and shimmered in her breasts and between her legs. Her nipples tightened and her body tingled in anticipation. She was hungry for him, ravenous. One, swift thrust and he’d be inside her, stroking, pumping.

  She bent one knee and arched her back, opening herself to him.

  “Good morning, children.” A mild masculine voice interrupted them. “My apologies for catching you still abed.”

  Sassy squealed and dove under the covers. Someone, somehow, had gotten past Grim’s shield.

  “Kehvahn.” The mattress dipped as Grim sat up. His deep voice held surprise and a hint of uncertainty. “This is unexpected.”

  Kehvahn was the name of—No, surely not.

  Sassy peeked over the edge of the covers and eased to a sitting position, the silken sheet clutched to her breasts. Their visitor was a slight man in a wrinkled robe. A pair of smudged glasses pinched the bridge of the man’s rather long nose. Short, wispy tendrils of brown hair stood up on his head like chicken fuzz.

  He looked more like a cleric or an absentminded professor than a god. Quite nice, though, Sassy decided, noting Kehvahn’s kind manner and the laugh lines around his eyes. Someone she could have a cozy chat with about . . . oh, anything.

  Kehvahn turned his regard on her. His eyes were brown—no, green, or were they deep blue?—and his gaze was shrewd, probing; bottomless. She felt a brief mental touch, caught an impression of a vast, yawning existence and endless knowledge. Then it was gone.

  “I’m glad you approve, my dear.” Kehvahn gave Sassy a gentle smile. “No time for a chat today, however. Other things to attend to.” Rubbing his thin hands together, the god of the Dalvahni looked around. “Where should we do this, do you think? Here or by the grotto waterfall?”

  Grim and Sassy exchanged startled looks.

  Grim cleared his throat. “Do what, exactly, Master?”

  “Perform the Binding Ceremony, of course.” Kehvahn adjusted his spectacles. “Conall informs me you wish to marry the chit. Is this correct?”

  “The captain is, as always, perspicacious, Great One, but I have yet to broach the matter with the lady.”

  “Really? Why not?”

  “The time . . . never seemed right.” Grim gave Sassy a hot look that made her blush. “And we have been otherwise occupied.”

  “I see,” Kehvahn said. “I shall withdraw to allow you to discuss it, then. In the meantime, I shall examine this fascinating specimen of bird.” The god waved his hand at the white bird with the outrageous tail feathers on the other side of the room. “Rather extraordinary, really. Never seen its like. Is it a member of the peafowl family?”

  “In truth, I know not, Master. I fashioned it from a likeness in a book to please Sassy.”

  “Fashioned it, you say?” Kehvahn gave Grim a sharp look. “First the Provider and now a living creature. Creation is a serious business, Grimford. Later, we will discuss this matter at length.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “I like her, by the way, your Sassy,” Kehvahn said. “Her outward charm conceals a core of steel and a vast capacity for love. And her penchant for finding delight in the smallest of things will do you good. You were ever too serious, Grimford.” He sighed. “A Dalvahni trait and my responsibility, I fear, which brings me full circle to the subject of creation. But that is a conversation for another time, when we will discuss the ramifications of your curious gift.”

  Kehvahn drifted over to the crystal stair and began to study the bird.

  “He forgot about the car,” Sassy murmured. “You brought Mea to life, too.”

  “It is you who brought me to life,” Grim said. “I was dead until I found you.”

  He brought her hand to his lips, kissing first one knuckle, then the next and the next. Slowly. Tenderly.

  Unfurling her fingers, he laid her hand over his heart. “Sarah Elizabeth Peterson—Sassy, my love—heart of my heart, may I have the honor, the inestimable joy—”

  His voice cracked and he shook his head. “Ah, gods, it is as I feared. I have made a muddle of it.”

  Sassy took Grim’s beloved face in her hands. “Yes, I will marry you, Grim Dalvahni. Naked—wearing a bed sheet—I don’t care. That is what you’re trying to ask me, isn’t it?”

  Grim’s eyes warmed with joy and relief. “Yes, a thousand times yes.”

  He crushed her to him, raining kisses upon her face, her lips and throat.

  Kehvahn wandered back with the bird on one arm. The creature’s long feathers cascaded to the floor.

  “You have your answer?” Kehvahn asked.

  Grim tucked Sassy under one arm. “She said yes, Great One.”

  “Excellent.” Kehvahn stroked the bird’s snowy feathers. “Shall we get on with it, then?”

  Sassy and Grim were married on the bank of the grotto pool under a trellis fragrant with wisteria, honeysuckle, and white clematis.

  She didn’t get married in her birthday suit after all, or in a bed sheet. She wore an ivory A-line gown—totally flattering for the petite frame—with a fitted waist, barely-there sleeves, and a waterfall of delicate crystals down the open back. Designed and made by Grim, using his Dalvahni magic.

  Pale pink and green roses were tucked into the flowing train, along with wisps of vermilion moss, baby’s breath, and silver lichen. She wore her hair loose and up, and let the curls fall where they would. She was gloriously happy and excited, and her tresses reflected her giddy emotions, sparkling and shimmering like pixie dust.


  Grim was resplendent in full warrior regalia. A short-sleeved brown leather jerkin with metal workings covered his powerful upper body and bulging arms to the elbow. The hem of the garment brushed the top of his thighs. Beneath the leather jerkin he wore a white padded gambeson shirt with slashed sleeves and intricate string design. His muscular legs were clad in fitted black breeches. On his feet he wore high black leather boots, laced to the knees. Grim’s long cinnamon hair, clubbed at the nape of his neck and tied in place with a piece of leather, shone in the morning light. Strapped around his lean waist was a brown leather belt, and attached to the belt was his sword.

  The archway framed the rush of water that tumbled down the cliff face and the two trees embracing at the top. The sounds of the forest, the sigh of the wind, and the splash of the waterfall were their only music. Sassy and Grim processed, hand in hand, out of their forest bower and joined Kehvahn at the mossy water’s edge. To one side of the arbor was an enormous leather-bound book on a stand. The tome lay open, its pages etched with the spidery characters and symbols of a language Sassy did not recognize. A bronze quill rested in the crease between the pages.

  “Behold the Great Book,” Kehvahn said to Sassy. “Herein lies the history of the Dalvahni race along with the name of every Dalvahni warrior sworn to service. Of late, a few Dalvahni have taken mates. Their names have been added to the book as well. By signing your name in our sacred text beside Grim’s, you bind yourself to him, Sassy Peterson, as he will be bound to you. Is this your desire?”

  “Oh, yes,” Sassy said. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  She lifted the bronze quill and wrote her name on the parchment. The letters sizzled and burned away, leaving her signature ablaze on the page.

  Grim’s hand closed around hers. “Perfect, my love, but with one addition.”

  Guiding her hand, he added Dalvahni to the end of her name, then signed his name beside hers. A bell rang in the distance. Raising his hand, the god of the Dalvahni blessed them in his mild, abstracted way.

  “There.” Kehvahn lowered his hand. “My benediction is not needed, strictly speaking, once you have signed the book. But it adds a flair of the dramatic, don’t you think? Especially for the others.”

  “Others?” Sassy asked.

  Grim pulled her into his arms. “We are not alone,” he murmured against her cheek. “My brothers have come to bear witness to our union.”

  Sassy turned, her eyes widening. “Mother-of-pearl.”

  Their sanctuary of the past few days had vanished, and they stood in a woodland hall awash with a host of Dalvahni warriors. Big, gorgeous, and bristling with weaponry, they made an imposing sight.

  Conall stood at the forefront. At his side was Duncan, he of the sun-streaked hair and laughing eyes.

  Color rode Grim’s cheekbones. His arms tightened around Sassy. “Greetings, brothers. You honor us with your presence.”

  “The honor is ours, brother.” Conall drew his sword. “Warriors, salute.”

  As one, the Dalvahni lifted their weapons with a mighty roar.

  Conall smiled—he actually smiled at Sassy as the throng of burly warriors surrounded the newlyweds.

  “Welcome to the family, Sassy,” the captain of the Dalvahni said. “Like it or not, you now have nigh unto two hundred big brothers—stubborn, opinionated, fiercely overprotective big brothers. We take care of our own.”

  “Mother-of-pearl,” Sassy said again, overwhelmed.

  The mass of warriors parted and the white stag trotted from their midst. Mose rode astride the magnificent animal. The nibilanth was dressed in a white velvet tunic, white hose embroidered with clocks, and red shoes with black heels and shiny buckles. A velvet cap with a jaunty feather completed his wardrobe. His wiry hair had been smoothed with some kind of oil and his cheeks and lips were rouged.

  Mose slid off the stag’s back and marched up to Sassy. “Here. Binding Day present.”

  He shoved a piece of parchment into her hand.

  Sassy unfurled the document. “It’s a deed.”

  Mose rolled his eyes. “You’re a peach, Fairy Puss, but the brightest star in the heavens you ain’t. It’s the deed to this parcel of land. Bought it off the farmer who owned it.”

  “I-I don’t know what to say, Mose. This is a wonderful gift.”

  “Don’t get mushy on me, toots. Hate mush.”

  Duncan pushed through the press of bodies. “Well, Grim? Are you going to kiss the lass and seal the deal, or shall I?”

  Grim pulled Sassy into his arms and kissed her. Thoroughly. Leisurely. Possessively.

  Sassy, not to be outdone, kissed him back. The catcalls, whistles, and huzzahs faded.

  When Sassy opened her eyes they were alone in the forest.

  “Where’d everybody go?” she asked.

  “Evil takes not a holiday. They have returned to their various affairs.” Grim gave her another lingering kiss. “As must we, I fear. Already, we have tarried here nigh unto a week.”

  “A week,” Sassy said. “It seems like hours.” She leaned her forehead against Grim’s broad chest. His leather jerkin was cool beneath her skin. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here with you. Forever.”

  Grim wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. “If there is one thing we have both learned, my love, it is that we cannot run from ourselves. We have things to attend to. The witch, the rogue Dalvahni, the mill.” He paused. “And there is also your family to consider.”

  “My parents.” Sassy groaned. “Mother-of-pearl, I’d forgotten about them. And Mr. Houston must think I’ve bailed on him. Take me back. Quick. Before I have time to change my mind.”

  Grim’s arms tightened around her. Sassy felt an odd pulling sensation as they fell into the in-between. A moment later, they reappeared in the front hall of the river house.

  Sassy’s stomach did a whoopsy. “I will never get used to that.”

  “You will. A few thousand times, and it will be commonplace.” Grim cocked his head. “Listen. We have company.”

  Taking her by the hand, he led her out of the foyer toward the sound of voices. In the living room, they found Evan sprawled on the big sofa, the picture of insouciance, with his feet crossed at the ankles and his arms behind his head. He was dressed in jeans and a fitted tee shirt. His silky black hair was tucked behind his ears, and his silver studs and earring were on full display. With his eyes lined in kohl and his sulky good looks, he resembled a Romany prince from the pages of a dark fairy tale, wild, dangerous, and unpredictable; the kind of guy mamas worldwide warn their daughters about.

  Sheriff Whitsun and Sassy’s mother, Eleanor, stood over him. As always, Mama was immaculately coiffed and dressed.

  “I’m telling you, I don’t know this man, Sheriff, and neither does my daughter.” Mama jabbed an accusatory finger at Evan. “I know Sassy’s friends and their families, and this . . . this person is not one of them. As for this tale of his—ridiculous. Sassy would not go off carousing with some strange man. She’s an engaged woman.”

  “Not anymore, Mama. Wesley and I are done.”

  Mama whirled around. “Sassy. Where have you been?” She looked Sassy up and down, her eyes narrowing as she took in Sassy’s dress and Grim’s medieval garb. “What in heaven’s name are you wearing?”

  “Our wedding clothes.” She patted Grim’s slashed linen sleeve. “This is Grim, Mama. Grim Dalvahni—my husband. Grim, allow me to introduce my mother, Eleanor Jerkins Peterson Champion.”

  Grim bowed. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, mother of Sassy.”

  Mama dismissed him with a glance. “I am in no mood for jokes, Sarah Elizabeth. I cannot believe you’ve been playing dress-up while your stepfather and I have been worried sick.”

  “You’re not listening, Mama. Grim and I were married this afternoon.”

  “Was it a theme wedding?” Mama sniffed in disbelief. “How tacky.”

  “Grim is wearing his dress uniform. He’s Dalvahni.” Sas
sy hesitated. “He’s what you might call Special Forces.”

  “You’re babbling.” Mama shuddered. “I never should have allowed you to come to this—this godforsaken place.”

  “Allowed, Mama? I’m a grown woman.”

  “You’re a child,” Mama said. “You’ve no idea what the world is like, what is out there. Now get your things. We’re going home.”

  “I am home, Mama. Grim is my home. I’m his wife.”

  “No, no, no.” Mama shook her head. “It’s not possible. You wouldn’t do this to me.”

  Sassy sighed. “This isn’t about you. This is about us. Grim and I are married.” She held up her hand as Mama started to object. “End of subject. You and Daddy Joel are welcome to visit any time you like, but we’re staying in Hannah.” Sassy glanced around. “Where is Daddy Joel, by the way?”

  “Oh, who cares?” Mama tottered over to a chair and collapsed. “Everything is ruined, ruined. I cannot believe I’ve lost another child to this horrible town.”

  Mama burst into tears.

  Old habits are hard to break, and Sassy had spent a lifetime jumping through hoops at the slightest emotional twitch from Mama. Mama was crying. Blind panic washed over Sassy. Mama was the moon and she was the tide, pulled hither and yon at her whim.

  A soothing hand settled on her shoulders. Grim sensed her struggle. His strength flowed through her, calming her, and her anxiety eased.

  Evan swung his legs off the couch. “Your mother doesn’t approve of me, Lolly. She’s been doing her dead level best to get me arrested. Was convinced I bumped you off.” He got to his feet and stretched. “Good thing you showed up.”

  “I knew you weren’t lying,” Whitsun said. “In my line of work, you learn to sniff out the truth.” He tipped his hat at Sassy. “Congratulations on your happy news, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff Whitsun.”

  Whitsun turned to Sassy’s mother. “Now your daughter’s back safe and sound, I’ll be going, Mrs. Champion.”