Читать книгу Demon Hunting in Dixie - Lexi George - Страница 9

Chapter Five

Ansgar shut the front door, drowning out the shrill sound of Meredith’s wails.

He turned to Addy with a frown of disapproval. “You see what comes of imparting our gifts to humans, brother?” He spoke with that superior drawl that set Addy’s teeth on edge. “A petty misuse of power.”

His gaze shifted to Evie and softened. “Although in this case, I will admit, the punishment may have been justified. She was a most unpleasant creature, much like the three-tongued adder harpies of Gorth. Still, I cannot think Conall will approve.”

Addy bristled. “Who the Sam Hill is Conall? What are you on about, Blondy? What ‘petty misuse of power’?” She waved her hands in the air. “Never mind, I don’t have time for this.”

Brand stepped closer, his expression intent. “Adara, we must speak. It is of the utmost importance.”

Evie cleared her throat. “Uh, Addy, you haven’t introduced me to your friends.”

“They’re not my friends.”

“Introduce me anyway.”

Addy blew out an impatient breath. “Oh, all right.” She flapped a hand in Brand’s direction. “Evie, this is Brand. The blond guy with the stick up his butt is Ansgar. I met them last night. If you’ll excuse me, I have a million things to do.”

She hurried into the supply room and shut the door. Sagging against the frame in relief, she closed her eyes. She could hear Evie and Brand talking. Their words were indistinct, but the muffled sound of Brand’s deep, rumbling baritone made her want to cry. What was the matter with her? Her skin felt too tight. She was jumpy and on edge, like she’d overdosed on caffeine. One moment she was tearing Meredith a new one—oh, my God, she called the Death Starr a bitch to her face, the small-town equivalent of committing hara-kiri, but boy, it felt good!—and the next moment she wanted to burst into tears.

Her emotions were all over the place. What happened to her hard-won self-control? Must be hormones kicking in. Surely, she wasn’t acting like a lunatic because she was happy to see Tall, Dark, and Frosty again? He walked through her door and her heart started rabbit-kicking like Thumper on speed. Nah, her palpitations had nothing to do with him.

Maybe she had a heart condition. Yeah, that was it. She was probably walking around with a bad ticker. What a relief. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. In the meantime, she needed to get a grip. Places to go, people to plant. The Farris funeral was two hours away.

“Umph.” She stumbled forward as Brand pushed his way into the supply room. He balanced a thermos and a paper plate in one hand.

“I have sustenance, thanks to the beneficence of your friend Evie.” He set the plate and the thermos on a shelf. “You will eat.”

Addy stiffened. You will eat, says the alpha male. Not you should eat or, Addy, won’t you please eat something, but you will eat. “See here, bub, I don’t—”

He jerked her into his arms and kissed her. It took Addy by surprise, that hot, devastating assault on her senses. The man sure knew how to kiss. It also shut her right the hell up; no doubt what he intended all along, the macho jerk. What surprised her was her response. She kissed him right back. No struggling, no murmured protests, no coy attempts to evade his kiss. He put his mouth on hers, and she went from zero to ninety like that. She was heart pine and he was a blow torch, and she went up in flames. She loved it. She couldn’t get enough of it. She wanted to climb the man like a telephone pole.

“You sent me away.” Wrapping his hands in her hair, he pulled her head back and trailed a path of kisses down her throat and along her collarbone. “This I cannot allow. Suppose the djegrali returned and I was not here to protect you?”

There he went again, telling her what she could and could not do. He touched the pulse at the base of her throat with the tip of his tongue and dragged his hot mouth up her throat to nibble at her lips, and she forgot all about being indignant. He coaxed her mouth open and dipped his tongue inside, tasting her, exploring her, his tongue tangling with hers. Her head spun, and her insides went all shivery. She clutched his arms and held on for dear life. She was on fire, she was flying apart. She was losing her mind.

“Let me go, I can’t breathe,” she gasped, trying to break free. It was no use. The man was six feet plus of pure, hard muscle. “I want—I want—”

“I know. I know, little one.” He ran his hands down her back and hiked her skirt over her thighs. His fingertips teased the curves of her buttocks. “It is the first time you’ve used the power, and you burn.”

Power, what power? Her thoughts were hazy with lust. Burn didn’t begin to cover it. More like spontaneously combust. She gave a cry of protest when he slid his hand inside her panties.

“Shh, easy,” he whispered. “Let me help. I know what to do.”

His fingers parted the tender folds and found the sensitive nubbin of flesh hidden within them, and she went off like a rocket. The Big O, la petite mort, only there was nothing little about it. He caught her scream of release in his mouth and held her until the first violent wave of trembling passed. Boneless and weak, she collapsed against him, too spent to object when he pulled out a crate and sat down on it with her in his lap. She relaxed, enjoying the comfortable silence that stretched between them. After a moment, he retrieved the thermos and the plate of banana bread from the shelf.

Breaking off a bite-size piece of the bread, he held it to her lips. “Eat, and then we will talk.”

She shook her head. “No, thanks, I’m not hungry.”

“Nonetheless you will eat.” She shook her head, and his voice deepened to that low, purring growl that sent shivers up and down her spine. “For me, you will do this.”

“Oh, all right.” Unable to resist the entreaty in his voice, she parted her lips and allowed him to slip a piece of bread in her mouth. “Though I can take care of myself.”

“I like taking care of you.”

“Yeah? I kinda like it, too, but I don’t think I should get used to it.” She glanced at him through her lashes. “It’s not like you’re going to hang around or anything, right?”

His arms tightened around her. “I will abide here for the time being. Han-nah-a-lah appears to be a hub of demon activity. It is most curious. Ansgar and I agree the situation warrants further investigation.”

“Han-nah-a-lah?”

“Is that not what this hamlet is called?” Brand slipped another morsel of bread into her mouth. He opened the thermos and poured green tea into the top, then held the cup to her lips. “It was the name on the marker at the outskirts of this place.”

Addy swallowed a sip of the sweetened tea. “Are you talking about that old sign at the south end of town? I’m surprised you could read it. Hannah, Alabama, is what it says, but half the letters are gone. The city council has been talking about replacing it for years.”

“To the Dalvahni, Han-nah-a-lah means the end of all things. Perhaps that is why Ansgar and I—like the demons, it would seem—have been drawn here, to fight the final battle.”

“Hannah a hotbed of supernatural woo-woo? You’ve got to be kidding. No self-respecting demon would be caught undead here. Heck, we’re so podunk we don’t even have a Burger Doodle.”

“Demons find this Burger Doodle attractive?”

“Nah, if I had to guess, I’d say they’re more into soul food.” She clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh, God, I made a pun. Slap me.”

“You are giddy from the power. It is natural. Now that you have taken in nourishment and found sexual release the symptoms should subside.”

Sexual release? The blood rushed to Addy’s face. Oh, no, he did not say that out loud. And so matter-of-factly, too. Pardon me, milady, but you should feel a whole lot better now that I’ve shoved my hand down your panties and made you sing like the fat lady. How embarrassing. But, she did feel better now that she’d eaten and . . . uh . . . you know. She closed her eyes. Oh, God, maybe the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

“The djegrali dealt you a mortal blow,” Brand continued. “You would have died had I not saved you. In doing so, we merged and you received some of my powers. That is how you banished Ansgar and me beyond your settlement borders, and gave that disagreeable female spots on her rump.”

Her eyes flew open. “You think I teleported you and Blondy out of town and gave Meredith pizza butt?” She jumped to her feet. “That’s mental. Look, bub, I’ve had a lot to deal with since last night, and your crazy whacked-out ideas aren’t helping. Creepy dementors and a new hairdo, and a talking dog and a ten-foot albino deer, not to mention sexy warrior dudes invading my house—”

“Dudes, this is a plural term, is it not?” Brand scowled. “Do you find Ansgar sexually attractive?”

“He’s easy on the eyes, I’ll give him that. But, I wouldn’t let him put his hand down my pants, if that’s what you mean.”

Whoops, she did it again. Opened her big, fat mouth and said what she was thinking. Talk about diarrhea of the mouth. She had a terminal case of it.

Brand jerked her back onto his lap. “That is exactly what I mean. He is not to touch you. This I cannot allow.”

Whew, bossy and possessive. “Don’t worry, he’s not my type. But I don’t think you have anything to worry about on that score. I’m pretty sure he’s into Evie, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I did not notice. You are the only one I see when I am in your presence.” He kissed the vee of exposed skin at the top of her silk blouse and nuzzled her neck. “And when we are apart as well.” He moved his lips to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “I did not like it today when you sent me away. Suppose the djegrali returned to harm you? That is why I will accompany you to this sepulchral service Mistress Evie told me about.”

“Sepulchral service?” Addy leaped up and flung open the supply room door. “The Farris funeral! I should have been there twenty minutes ago. I am soooo late!”

“Adara wait, I must accompany you.”

She whirled back around. “That’s sweet, Brand, but there is no way I’m taking Conan the Barbarian to the Farris funeral. I’ll be fine. I’d rather face a hundred demons any day than my mother in one of her snits. And she’ll be headed straight for Snitsville if I don’t get over there pronto.”

She rushed into the front room of the store. “Evie, be a doll and mind things for me, will you? I gotta get over to the body shop.”

Snatching up a standing basket of mums, snapdragons, and lilies, she bolted out the front door and down the street in the direction of Corwin’s Serenity Chapel and Mortuary.

The storage room door slammed open and the dark-haired hunk Addy had introduced as Brand strode out. Evie eyed him uncertainly. On the surface he looked calm enough, but he radiated suppressed emotion and a raw, animal magnetism that screamed danger. This was not a man you wanted to mess with. She sure hoped she wasn’t to blame for his bad mood. She did a quick mental recount. Nope, wasn’t her. Addy must have done something to tick him off. Addy sometimes had that effect on people.

He confirmed her suspicion when he bellowed, “Adara Jean, come back here.”

His voice rattled the decorative plates and pictures on the wall, but Evie could have told him he was wasting his energy. Addy was long gone. She shot out the door and past the plate glass display window so fast it made Evie blink. Cheese and crackers, it was like Addy was on speed or something. Drugs; that was it. Addy was on drugs. No other explanation for her best friend leaving her alone with two strangers. Two beautiful male strangers. Addy knew she suffered from shyness, Evie thought indignantly, especially around men. Men in general made her nervous, and good-looking men gave her the willies. And these two specimens of masculine magnificence shot way past good-looking and into the supernaturally handsome zone. One look at these guys, and the male underwear models of the world would strangle themselves with their own shorts. They were intergalactically gorgeous, especially the blond guy. Ansgar, that was his name. Evie slid him a cautious glance and looked away again. Cripes, he was so gorgeous he glowed.

And he was looking right at her.

Brand growled—he growled!—and turned to glare at Evie. She shrank back from the look in his eyes, a feral gleam like a tiger on the prowl. Or at least that’s the gleam she imagined a prowling tiger’s eyes might have. She’d never seen a tiger, thank God, except on the National Geographic channel.

“Where did she go?” he demanded.

Evie risked another quick peek at Ansgar. He still watched her, his arms crossed on his broad chest, with an unblinking scrutiny that made her self-conscious. Make that super self-conscious, since plain old ordinary run-of-the-mill self-conscious was normal for her.

Brand growled again, and she stuttered, “T-to the funeral home.”

“In Snitsville?”

Evie gaped at him. “Huh?”

For a moment, he looked like his head might explode. “Addy said her mother might be traveling to some place called Snitsville. I must follow Addy there, if that is her destination.”

Maybe this guy was from outer space. “Addy’s mother lives in Snitsville,” she said. “It’s not a place, it’s an expression. It means she stays upset about something or other all the time.”

The glittering eyes narrowed. “I see. You are most helpful. Perhaps you also have information about Conan the Barbarian.”

Evie was knocked straight back to huh. “Conan?”

“Who is he, and what is he to Addy?”

“Conan?”

“Conan.”

Evie struggled to keep up. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”

Tiger Man’s scowl deepened. “Addy said she could not take Conan the Barbarian to the funeral. What did she mean?”

A bubble of hysterical laughter worked its way up from Evie’s belly to her chest. She was going to lose it, going to laugh right in his face. And then Mr. Primeval would kill her, because this was not a guy with a sense of humor. She covered her mouth with both hands and managed to turn her attack of the giggles into a coughing fit instead.

“I’m sorry.” She wiped her streaming eyes. “Allergies. Conan the Barbarian is a fictional character, a fantasy warrior. Big guy with black hair and a sword. I think he had blue eyes, though, not green.”

“Fictional, you say?”

Evie nodded.

“Good. Then I will not have to kill him.” Brand fell silent. After a moment, he said, “She refers to my garb, does she not? Ansgar and I do not dress as other men of your culture.”

“Yeah, you could say that. It would be an understatement, but you could say that.”

“Ansgar, we must remedy our appearance. We are in violation of the directive against conspicuousness.”

“Do not let it trouble you, brother.” Evie swallowed a sigh. Ansgar’s voice was as cool and soothing as a dip in the creek on a hot summer day. “We have disregarded the warrior code in any number of ways since coming here. One more infraction should not make any difference.”

“I have broken our code, not you.” Brand’s tone was stiff. “Leave lest you suffer the consequences of my actions.”

Leave? Evie felt a stab of dismay, which was ridiculous. Why should she care if he left? It wasn’t as if Whaley Douglass and Ansgar of the Splendiferous Abs and Ass were going to get it on. Looking at him hurt, for crying out loud, and she was . . .

She was plain old Evie.

“No, I think I will stay,” Ansgar said. Evie darted a glance at him and froze, trapped by his unblinking silver gaze. “I find I’m in the mood to break a few rules myself.”

“Very well,” Brand said. “Is there a reputable tailor in this town, Mistress Evie? My friend and I need new attire.”

With an effort, Evie broke eye contact with Ansgar and looked at Brand. “Uh, yeah, there’s a men’s store right down the street. They carry some big and tall stuff for the Wilson brothers.”

“You have my thanks.” Brand strode toward the door. Hand on the doorknob, he turned and looked back at Ansgar. “Brother?”

“I will follow in a moment. You go ahead.”

The bell on the door clanged in protest as Brand slammed out of the store, leaving Evie alone with Ansgar. She flashed him a tremulous smile. Boy, oh boy, he made her jumpy. Picking up the cardboard box she’d brought with her that morning, she scurried over to her display table. Her hands shook as she unloaded the carton and rearranged the rows of soap. She tried her best to ignore the hunk on the other side of the room as she replenished her stock of almond and honey bath bars. She was adding her latest concoction to her men’s line—a soap for hunters made with olive oil, oak bark, dandelion root, and cedar wood oil—when her skin prickled with awareness. Somehow, without making a sound, he was behind her. She could feel him. She spun around. He was right on top of her. God, he was beautiful. His pale blond hair and his strange eyes seemed to radiate light. No human man had a shine to him like that. It was hypnotic, mesmerizing. She could not move. He was a wolf and she was a rabbit, and he was going to gobble her up unless she did something to break the spell.

“Your friend seems a-a little intense,” she stammered.

“He is a hunter and single-minded in his pursuit of what he wants . . . as am I.”

She jumped when he reached out and removed her floppy gardening hat. Her hair tumbled down around her shoulders. She stared up at him, feeling self-conscious and nervous. This guy was so perfect, and she was so . . . not. She was a big blob, an awkward, ugly thing compared to his shining perfection. Why was he paying attention to her? It was some kind of cruel trick.

He lifted a long, red curl, and examined it. “Why do you conceal your fire with an ugly cap and your beauty beneath a shapeless gown, Evangeline? You cannot hide your true self from me.”

Evie gasped. “Who told you my name? Nobody has called me Evangeline since my mama died.”

“Evie is the name of a frightened, lonely girl. Evangeline is a beautiful, strong woman. You are Evangeline.”

“Yeah, right, this coming from a guy like you.”

Ansgar’s brows drew together. “What does this mean, ‘a guy like me’?”

“Oh, come on, don’t make me say it. You’ve seen yourself in the mirror.”

He smiled, and Evie thought the top of her head would blow off. Wow, this guy was something else.

“You find me attractive in a physical sense?”

Attractive, who was he kidding? He had to know he was drop-dead gorgeous. He’d probably heard it a thousand times before from a thousand other women. Did he need another female to tell him so? Did he need Whaley Douglass to stroke his ego?

No.

No, she did not think so.

She looked him square in the eye—a very un-Evie-like thing to do—but for some reason around this guy she was something else, too. “Let’s say you don’t exactly suck in the looks department.”

He tilted his head, as though considering her words. “Not to suck is a good thing in your culture, is it not? You use sarcasm. It shows spirit. You are not at all the meek, timid mouse you pretend to be.”

Taking her by the arm, he pulled her toward the door.

“Wait, where are we going?”

He gave her another bone-melting smile. “You will accompany me to the tailor’s to purchase a new suit of clothes so that I am not conspicuous.”

“Mister, you’re six-foot-four if you’re an inch, and you look like a cross between Thor and an escapee from Rivendell. The clothes don’t exist that would make you inconspicuous. Besides, I told Addy I’d mind the shop.”

“Then you will close the shop. At the tailor’s, we will select what you like. I want to please you.”

Evie stared up at him in confusion. “Why? Why on earth do you care what I think? I’m nobody, and you just met me.” With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she looked around for the hidden camera. “This is a joke, isn’t it? Meredith put you up to this. It’s some kind of sick reality show. That’s great, really great. Well, you’re going to have to get yourself another stooge, ’cause I’m not going anywhere with you.”

She spun around and marched behind the counter.

Ansgar followed her. “Evangeline, I do not jest with you. I do not know how. What has Adara told you about me and Brand?”

“She didn’t tell me anything. She started to tell me and Meredith came in. You and Brand came in right after that. So, see, I don’t know anything. Innocent as a lamb, that’s me. You can go out of here knowing your secret is safe, whatever it is.”

“I see.” He sighed, as if reaching a decision. “I said I was going to break the rules, did I not? Telling you the truth will be my first transgression.”

Evie prided herself on her intuition, and her instincts were on high alert. She was not going to like what Ansgar was about to tell her. She held up her hand to ward him off. “Look, mister, don’t bend any rules on my account. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, you know what I mean?”

“But I want you to know.” Ansgar stepped closer. Evie sidled back, and he stopped. “Brand and I are Dalvahni.”

“What’s that, like Italian?”

“No. The Dalvahni are a tribe of immortal warriors. We hunt demons called the djegrali through space and time. We came to this place in pursuit of them. Several of them, in fact.”

“Demons.”

“That is correct.”

“Uh huh.”

Crazy as a Betsy bug. She might have known. Bitterness burned the back of her throat. No man in his right mind would think she was beautiful. Oh, well, it was nice for the millisecond it lasted.

A man wearing a cheap blue suit with a boutonniere pinned to the lapel stopped in front of the plate glass window and looked in. Evie recognized him at once, in spite of his waxy, unnatural pallor and frozen features. He looked at her with glassy, unmoving eyes for an instant, and turned and shambled down the street in the direction of the funeral home.

Evie stared out the window in shock. “Demon hunters, you say?”

“I have told you so, have I not?”

“You sure did, and I believe you. Dwight Farris just looked in the shop window, and he’s dead.”