Demon Hunting with a Sexy Ex by Lexi George (29)

Toby sniffed and bounded into the trees with a deep, throaty huff. “He has caught a scent,” Grim said. “Perhaps ’tis Gryff.”

Duncan nodded and stilled, looking back in the direction of the cottage on the river. Unease shivered through him, and he had the sudden, deep misgiving that Cassandra needed him.

“What troubles you, brother?” asked Grim.

“I do not know,” Duncan said. “A presentiment of danger.” He gave Grim a rueful smile. “Or mayhap ’tis merely my longing for Cassandra. ’Tis ever thus with me.”

“You love her.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Aye,” Duncan said. “With all my heart.”

“Enough to bind yourself to her?”

“Brother, I have been bound lo these many years and have no wish to be free. If, howe’er, you ask whether I would make her my life mate an I could, the answer is yes. ’Tis my most earnest and heartfelt desire to join my life with Cassandra’s one day.”

“The lady has doubts?”

“Aye, so I fear.” Duncan grimaced. “And I have no one to blame save myself. I hurt her deeply many years ago, and she trusts me not.”

“Conall has told me of this,” Grim said. “You and your Cassie met some hundred years past?”

“Longer than that. Closer to two centuries than one.”

“Then you, and not Brand, are the first of our kind to fall in love.”

Duncan stared at his brother. “By the sword, you are right.”

“And with a demonoid,” Grim said. “It explains much. I would that you had told me. Perhaps I would have viewed your fondness for levity with more tolerance.”

“I misdoubt it. You ever saw me as a sad scapegrace.”

“True enough.” Grim sighed. “And then I met Sassy, and everything changed.” He spread his arms wide. “You see before you the happiest of warriors.” He dropped his arms, his smile fading. “But for my brother’s grief, my joy would be complete. I have so much, Duncan, and Gryff has lost everything. His honor, his brothers, his health. Even his mind has flown. When I saw him in the woods, he knew me not, mine own twin. How can I be happy when he is in abject misery?”

“We will find him, Grimford,” Duncan promised. “We are Dalvahni, and we do not falter from our purpose.”

Toby woofed again, and this time the message was clear. The dog had found something—or someone.

Duncan and Grim blurred through the woods, zipping past trees, streams, and hillocks, and came upon the wolfhound at last in a narrow defile between two hills. The hound sat on his haunches before a fallen log, having his ears rubbed by Taryn. It struck Duncan that the huntress looked wan and tired, an unusual circumstance, given the robust and unflagging nature of the Kirvahni constitution.

She rose when she saw them, inclining her head in acknowledgment. “Brothers,” she said in her fluid voice. “I am even now hot on the rogue’s trail, but tarried to rest, and was greeted by this noble hound. What brings you here?”

“The very same,” said Grim. “We seek Gryff.”

“Your loyalty to the brotherhood does you credit, Grimford, but as I have told you before, I cannot allow you to interfere with my duty,” Taryn said with unshaken calm. “My most sacred duty, imposed by Kehvahn himself. I have been tasked with bringing in the rogue, and that I will do.”

“Bring him in, by all means,” said Duncan, “but rescue him instead. A startling revelation has been made. Gryffin is no rogue but a victim of Pratt’s wickedness. Kehvahn desires you to free Gryff, not slay him.”

Taryn raised her brows. “I know nothing of this. What is more, you cannot release me from my vow.”

“Arta was to have informed you, but you have been stekaath.” Grim clenched his fists, and Duncan could sense his roiling tension. “Consult with her, I beg you, ere you do something you will regret. A warrior’s life is at stake.”

Taryn frowned. “Forgive me, but I cannot help but be skeptical, given the timing of your interference and the proximity of my quarry.”

“You would accuse us of dissemblance?” Grim growled, stepping forward.

Duncan grabbed him by the arm. “Your wariness is natural, but I swear to you by the sacred three that we speak the truth.”

Taryn hesitated. “I desire but to do my duty. Yet I would not err, especially when the matter is so momentous.” She looked off into the distance, her gray eyes grave. “Very well. I will consult with Arta.”

Duncan relaxed. “It is well, sister. In the meantime, we will continue the search, for Grim is heartsick at his brother’s plight and cannot rest until he is freed.”

Toby sprang to his feet, barking sharply in warning. The atmosphere changed, and Gryff appeared on a rush of air. In an instant, Taryn’s bow was in her hands, an arrow fitted upon the string.

“Nay,” Grim shouted, springing between Gryff and Taryn. “Can you not see his affliction?”

Taryn lowered the bow, staring at Gryff, white-faced with shock. The rogue was as Duncan remembered: gaunt, barefoot, and in rags, his skin scored with writhing markings, his eyes vacant, his expression slack and uncomprehending. He held the orb cupped in the palms of his hands. His flesh burned and smoked, regenerated because of his Dalvahni blood, and scorched again. The pain was surely excruciating, but if he felt it, he showed no reaction.

He opened his mouth, his lips working, as though he’d forgotten how to speak.

“Girl.” The word was a guttural rasp. “Help. Girl.”

Gryff vanished, leaving them stunned and bewildered.

Taryn was the first to find her voice. “I saw him. He is most grievously tormented, but he is not evil.”

Grim glared at her in affront. “We told you as much. A Dalvahni warrior does not lie.”

“I do not expect you to understand,” she said, “but ’twas necessary I see the thing for myself.” She shivered. “He is filled with rage. Such bleak, unspeakable rage.”

“’Tis plain he came to deliver a warning,” Grim said, looking troubled. “What think you he meant by it?”

“Cassandra.” Fear squeezed Duncan’s lungs, and his apprehension returned full force. “I sensed she was in danger earlier and paid no heed.”

“Nay, Duncan,” Grim said. “Cassandra is most beauteous, but she is a woman full grown, not a girl.”

“I must go to her, nonetheless,” Duncan said. “You would do the same, were it Sassy.”

“Of a certainty,” said Grim.

“Abide here but a moment. I will return forthwith. If my fear is realized, I may need your help.”

“We will both abide,” said Taryn.

An instant later, Duncan materialized on Cassie’s lawn. He sped across the grass and into the house. Stilling, he opened his senses and sought her, and knew at once that she was gone. Her presence was a living, breathing thing, and ’twas absent. “Cassandra?” he said, knowing she would not answer.

Unreasoning panic twisted his vitals. Ah, gods, he could not lose her again.

He whirled at a soft noise and spied a woman down the hall. She stood unmoving, staring at him. He looked at her for a moment, blinded by terror, before it struck him that it was the Randall woman, Blaze’s mother. She held the speaking device called a telephone clutched in one hand.

She set the device down. “Thank God you’re here. I was about to call the sheriff. Cassie and Verbena have been kidnapped.”

Duncan strode up to her, and the woman recoiled at what she saw in his face.

“Who took her?” he demanded. “Tell me.”

“That polecat Joby Ray,” she said, her eyes wide. “I came downstairs to get Blaze some more grapes and heard a noise. I looked outside and saw Joby Ray.”

“He got through my wards.” Duncan swore. “How can this be?”

“Joby Ray’s talent is burgling,” she said. “He’s got a string of arrests for B&E long as your arm, but he keeps slipping past the law.”

“Verbena,” Duncan said, thinking quickly. “He lured her close to the shield, and she unwittingly enhanced his ability.”

The Randall woman shrugged. “Don’t know anything about that. All I know is he got in.” Her mouth twisted in distaste. “Oh yeah, and Zeb was with him.”

“The alpha was here with the pack?”

“Nope. Zeb’s on his own now. Been shunned. I’m thinking the Skinners are his new pack.”

Duncan had heard enough. He disappeared.

* * *

Cassie woke up to utter blackness and a splitting headache. The taste of bile burned the back of her throat, and her stomach heaved. She moaned and concentrated on not throwing up.

A match flared in the darkness, illuminating Verbena’s pale face. “You okay, Cassie?”

“Been better. You?”

She saw Verbena’s face crumple as the match flickered and died. “We’s in trouble now, for sure,” the girl whispered. “Them Skinners done grabbed us.”

“We’re in trouble.” Cassie fumbled and found Verbena’s hand. “And the Skinners have grabbed us.”

“Don’t make no difference how I talk.” Verbena’s voice was dull with hopelessness. “I ain’t gon’ see the light of day again. Joby Ray’ll make sure of ’at. Said he’s gon’ keep me locked up so’s I won’t run away again.”

“Don’t worry about Joby Ray. Duncan will find us.”

Duncan. Cassie’s chest tightened. She loved him, and she was a pluperfect idiot for not telling him so.

Praise Jesus. Glad you finally figured that out, the squeam said. Somebody should have knocked you in the head ages ago.

“Joby Ray says won’t nobody ever find us ’cause the Skinners don’t stay in one place no more.” Verbena struck another match. “We’s in a camper, see, and we can’t get out. They got the windows boarded up and the door barred on the outside. I done tried.” The match went out. “The Skinners lost everything after Old Charlie died. They’s on the move now. Don’t stay in one place too long.”

“I don’t care,” Cassie said. “Duncan will still find us.”

“How? He don’t even know Joby Ray’s got us.”

Cassie felt a flare of panic. Dear God. She hadn’t thought of that. It was hard to think with her head pounding, but she had to try. “Then we’ll rescue ourselves,” she said with a confidence she was far from feeling. “We handled that old demon, didn’t we?”

“You ain’t got your staff.”

“Maybe there’s something here I can use. We’ll look around, but give me a minute. My head is killing me.”

“Don’t go to sleep,” Verbena said, slipping back into proper speech. “You probably have a concussion. Read about it in a book on first aid.”

Cassie smiled despite her headache. Verbena had read the entire library in a day.

“Joby Ray won’t let me read.” Verbena’s voice broke. “That’s the hard part, knowing I won’t be allowed to read no more.”

“Tell me more about Bo-Bo,” Cassie suggested, sensing the girl’s grief and terror. “You must’ve known a lot of dogs. What makes him so special?”

“One of Old Charlie’s prize bitches went into heat, and a neighbor’s dawg . . . I mean, dog . . . got into the pen,” Verbena said. “Charlie didn’t realize what had happened until the pups was born—four of the prettiest spaniels you ever seed, and an orange mutt.”

“And?”

“Old Charlie throwed Bo-Bo in a bucket to drown. I fished him out. He’s been my dog ever since.” Verbena sniffled. “That is, until . . .”

Her voice trailed off, and Cassie supplied the rest. “Until Beck saved you from the demons and you went to live with her and Conall. You and Bo-Bo got separated.”

“Yep.” Verbena’s voice was thick with misery. “I couldn’t go back for him. The Skinners wouldn’t have let me have him, anyway, out of pure-in-tee meanness. ’Sides, I was scared if they got their mitts on me, they’d never turn me loose.” She lapsed into silence for a moment, and then added, “Looks like I was right about that.”

“We’re going to get out of here,” Cassie said. “Let’s look around for a piece of wood I can use. Have you got another match?”

“Two more.” There was a soft scratch as Verbena lit another match. “We’d best hurry.”

Cassie took a quick look around at the inside of the camper and was revolted. The place was filthy, full of beer cans, trash, empty plastic bags, and rat droppings. At least, she hoped it was rat droppings. The furniture was made of hard plastic and vinyl, and bolted down; there was no trace of wood of any use to a wizard.

Verbena struck the last match.

“There,” Cassie said, pointing to a skinny object on the floor in the far corner. “What’s that?”

Verbena crawled through the rubbish. “Broken pool cue.”

Cassie did a fist pump. “Hand it to me.”

Verbena put the pool cue in Cassie’s hand as the last match flickered and died. Cassie didn’t need the light now.

She ran her hand down the cool shaft and grinned in the dark. “Maple. Balance, promise, and practical magic. We can use all three.”

There was the screech of a metal bar being lifted, and the camper door swung open. Joby Ray stood in the doorway. To Cassie’s surprise, it was still light outside. She’d lost track of the time in this glorified tin can.

“Ladies,” he said, showing his pointy teeth. “Come to check on you. Make sure you’re enjoying your ’commodations.”

He reeked of beer and cigarettes, and he was looking extremely pleased with himself. He reminded Cassie of a banty rooster she’d once had, small, mean, and aggressive. She’d hated that rooster. She’d done a happy dance when a fox had eaten it. Too bad there wasn’t a fox handy right now, a giant fox, big enough to swallow Joby Ray and the rest of the Skinners whole or squash them like roaches.

A giant? Cassie gave a small gasp. Of course. She would’ve done a facepalm if her head didn’t hurt like the dickens.

Joby Ray climbed into the camper, a battery-operated lantern swinging from one hand. “Lock it behind me and then beat it,” he barked to someone over his shoulder. “Don’t want our little chickens to fly the coop.”

The door slammed shut, the metal bar dropped back into place, and the sound of footsteps faded away.

“There.” Joby Ray set the lantern down on the kitchen bar, and soft light flooded the interior of the camper. “Now we can have us a chat.”

Crunching through a clutter of aluminum cans, he sprawled onto a window seat covered in torn Naugahyde and looked at Cassie, his beady eyes glittering. “You mean to hit old Joby with that pool cue?”

“No,” Cassie said. “I’ll leave that pleasure to someone else.”

Joby Ray chuckled. “You know, I could’ve slit your throat and let you bleed out, but I been hankering to get to know you better since the first time I clapped eyes on you. And then there’s Zeb. He means to use you as leverage.”

“That right? Leverage for what?”

“The orb. He’s obsessed with that damn rock. Me, I’m just horny, and you are the finest thing I’ve seen in many a day.” He leaned closer. “I like a woman with gumption. Like to beat it out of her. You and me, we’s gon’ have fun.”

“I think you and I have a different definition of that word.”

Gripping the broken pool cue, Cassie formed the image in her mind and pushed the thought outward, though the effort made her queasy and sent shooting pains through her head. “Alacritas,” she said in a clear voice.

Joby Ray straightened on the bench. “What’s that?”

“Alacritas,” Cassie repeated. “Alacritas, alacritas, alacritas.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s Latin for piece of shit,” Cassie lied.

“You got a smart mouth.” Half rising from the bench, Joby Ray grabbed Cassie by the hair. He dragged her through the rubble and between his spread legs, jerking her to her knees. “I’m gon’ learn you some manners.”

With a surge of panicked revulsion, Cassie guessed his intention and began to struggle. “Duncan will kill you,” she said, panting. “If he doesn’t, I will.”

He tightened his cruel grip on her hair and yanked her closer. “Duncan ain’t here, and I think it’s about time you put that sweet little mouth of yours to good use.”

He reached for the zipper of his jeans with his free hand.

“No,” Verbena shouted, scrambling through the litter on the floor. “You leave her alone.”

With the sound of screeching metal, the camper door was wrenched off its hinges. The rogue stood in the doorway, the orb clutched in his smoking hands.

“Girl.” He stared at Verbena. “Help girl.”

“Get him,” Verbena cried, pointing to Joby Ray. “He’s hurting my friend.”

Moving like an automaton, the rogue shifted the orb to one hand and reached through the door. He grabbed Joby Ray by the shirt and plucked him out of the camper.

Verbena helped Cassie to her feet and they staggered outside. Cassie was shaking with reaction and adrenaline, her head was throbbing, and her scalp was on fire. They were in a clearing in the woods in the center of a circle of trucks, RVs, and campers in varying degrees of decay, a jumble of rusting, fading vehicles that Cassie had no doubt were stolen. She heard music, voices, and raucous laughter from the far side of the little camp. Smoke drifted between the vehicles, and the fatty smell of cooking meat hung in the air. The Skinners were having a party.

Remembering Verbena’s comment about the Skinners’ diet, she shuddered.

The rogue looked at Verbena in unspoken question, still holding the struggling Joby Ray by one arm. “Girl?”

“I don’t care what you do with him,” Verbena told the rogue. “You can throw him in the river for all I care.”

The rogue nodded and turned, dragging Joby Ray with him.

“Help,” Joby Ray hollered. “Somebody better drag their ass over here and help me.”

An RV door slammed open, and Zeb Randall stepped out. He was banged up and bruised, his hair was a graying tangle, and he looked like he’d slept in his clothes, but at least he no longer had the crazy eyes. Cassie felt a spasm of hope. Maybe she could reason with him, smooth this thing over without anyone getting hurt. She was tired, her head hurt, and she wanted to go home. To Duncan.

Zeb saw the orb, and his eyes blazed.

Whoops. Cassie’s hopes sank. Crazy eyes.

“Give it to me,” Zeb said, lunging at the rogue. “The orb is mine.”

Suddenly, the air grew thick and oppressive. Cassie groaned and sank to her knees, her temples pounding at the unexpected change of pressure. A robed man appeared, handsome as any Dalvahni, with striking, well-formed features, strong shoulders, and flowing dark hair.

Not a man, Cassie amended upon further consideration. No mortal being emanated that kind of raw power. There was a god among them, and he was angry. The atmosphere crackled with his rage.

“Ah, Gryffin, there you are.” The god’s voice was a low rumble like distant thunder. “I am not happy with you.”

The rogue shot a startled look at the god and dropped Joby Ray to the ground.

“No, no, my chary fellow,” the god said as Gryffin began to dematerialize. “Unlike your oafish brothers, I weary of the chase. You will be still.”

He lifted a finger, and the rogue froze, unable to move. The god flowed over the ground like water running downstream, his feet not touching the ground, and reached for the orb.

“No,” Zeb shouted. “It’s mine. I found it.”

The werewolf threw himself at the god and bounced off as though he’d encountered an invisible wall.

“You would interfere with me again?” the god said. “I find you tiresome.”

He motioned, and Zeb sailed through the air. The werewolf smacked into a tree and slid to the ground in a bloody heap.

“And now to deal with you,” the god said, lifting both hands to destroy the rogue.

Something crashed in the woods and the trees at the edge of the camp shuddered and swayed as something impossibly large and strong passed among them.

 

Just around the corner of the street I reside, a booming voice sang.

The trees parted, and the Savior of Hannah stepped out. With a startled exclamation, the god whirled around. His hold on the rogue slipped. In an instant, Gryff was gone.

“No,” the god roared, and vanished after him in a shattering crack of thunder.

Swinging his giant peanut, the avenging colossus stomped through the camp. Whack, a camper went flying. Whack, whack, a truck was flattened. Skinners scattered like roaches out of a burning outhouse.

“It’s that peanut feller.” Verbena clapped her hands and jumped up and down in excitement. “Look at him go.”

Joby Ray scrambled to his feet, his eyes starting from his head, and took off.

“He’s getting away,” Verbena cried.

Cassie cupped her hands to her mouth. “Jeb!”

The behemoth turned, a truck raised high overhead.

Cassie pointed at Joby Ray. “Fetch.”

Jeb smashed the truck into the ground and obediently did an about-face.

 

Sweet Rosie O’Grady, he belted, barreling after the terrified Joby Ray.

Cassie almost felt sorry for Joby Ray. Almost.

He didn’t stand a chance.