Demon Hunting with a Sexy Ex by Lexi George (30)

Duncan materialized amid utter destruction. He looked around the trash-strewn glade with a feeling of paralyzing dread. The campsite was a ruin of twisted metal, smoking hulks, and upturned vehicles. Whate’er unspeakable calamity had befallen this place, Cassandra could not have escaped unscathed.

He went to his knees and threw back his head, roaring in raw, animal pain.

A sound pierced the blackness of his agony, the sweetest sound Duncan had ever heard, sweeter by far than the soul-soothing sound of birdsong after a killing winter.

“Duncan?” Cassandra said. “Duncan, it’s all right. I’m alive.”

And then she was there, kneeling on the ground beside him, her arms around him as she shook, and laughed, and cried.

She pressed glad kisses all over his face. “I thought I’d never see you again. Oh, Duncan, I love you. I was an idiot not to tell you before. I was afraid. I think I’ve been afraid since you left, all those years ago. Please forgive me.”

Duncan held her away from him. “What did you say?”

“I said I love you.” Cassandra smiled at him through her tears. “I love you, you big galoot. I’ve never loved anyone else.”

Duncan felt shaky and unbalanced, as jittery as a maid on her wedding night. “You are certain? Think on what you are saying, Cassandra. Do not play with me, I beg of you.”

Cassandra sat back on her thighs, a frown in her eyes. He was making her angry, his sweet hornet, but he had to be sure.

“I love you,” she said. “I love you with all my heart. I’ve always loved you, but if you don’t believe me, then fine.”

She tossed her head and winced.

“You are hurt.” Duncan pulled her into his lap. “Why did you not say so?”

“I was so glad to see you, I forgot.”

Duncan liked that. He liked that very much.

“Where?” he demanded. “Show me at once.”

“Here.” She touched the area above her forehead and winced again.

With gentle fingers, he probed and found a sizeable knot. “You have a lump the size of a goose egg.”

“I should. Joby Ray hit me with a billy club.”

“He what?”

“He hit me with a cudgel. Knocked me out. I have a terrible headache.”

Carefully, Duncan set her aside and got to his feet.

Cassandra looked up at him. “Where are you going?”

“To kill Joby Ray.”

She jumped up and threw her arms around him again. “That’s sweet, but you’ll have to wait your turn. Verbena is having a few words with him right now.”

“Is that wise, to leave her alone with the miscreant? You can be certain he means her ill.”

“Oh, she’s not alone. Jeb is with her. She’s perfectly safe, I promise you.”

The air shivered, and Grim and Taryn arrived. “What ho,” Taryn said, looking around. “Someone had a merry fight.”

“It was Jeb,” Cassandra said. “The Skinners kidnapped me and Verbena, and Jeb ran them off.”

“My brother . . . Gryff . . . the rogue,” Grim said. “Have you seen him?”

Cassandra nodded. “Joby Ray had me and Verbena locked in a camper and wouldn’t let us go. Gryff rescued us.”

“He did?” Grim seemed surprised. “Whyever would he do that?”

“He likes Verbena,” Cassandra said. “She asked him to grab Joby Ray, and he did.”

“Where is Gryffin?” Grim said, looking around. “I would speak to him. Try to convince him to abide with us.”

“Gone, I’m afraid. This . . . being arrived. He was a god, I think, and he tried to take the orb from Gryff.”

Duncan and Grim exchanged glances. “Pratt,” Duncan said.

“Is that his name?” Cassandra shivered. “He was a real piece of work. I think he meant to kill Gryff. Would have, too, if Jeb hadn’t arrived like the cavalry. The peanut feller saved the day.”

“The peanut feller?” Taryn said, opening her eyes wide.

Cassandra twinkled at her. “That’s what Verbena calls him.”

“I confess my curiosity,” Grim said. “I should like to meet this peanut feller.”

“I’ll introduce you,” Cassandra said. “He’s over here.”

Cassandra turned and walked away, and Grim and Taryn followed her. Duncan came behind more slowly. He was stunned, bemused, his world turned on end. Cassandra loved him. She loved him.

Ah, gods, he desperately wanted to believe her, but after so many years of longing, hoping, dreaming, and praying, it seemed too good to be true. She had been under extreme duress. What if, upon reflection, she changed her mind? That would kill him.

But what choice did he have? He could not leave her. She was everything to him.

He quickened his pace and caught up with her. She looked up at him and smiled, and he was lost. He loved her. He loved enough for both of them.

The four of them picked their way through the debris. Rounding a pile of smoking metal, they came upon Verbena, the Skinner weasel, and the animate statue.

“By the sword,” Grim said.

“Quite splendid, is he not?” said Taryn. “I caught but a brief glance at him during the demon fight, but he is quite the intrepid fighter, and surprisingly good with a club.”

Jeb—the peanut feller—held Joby Ray by the nape of the neck, pinched between two of his enormous bronze fingers. Joby Ray’s narrow, sallow face was tight with anger and fright. Verbena stood before the varlet, her hands on her hips.

“Get this through your thick skull,” she was saying. “I’m no relation to you, and I don’t owe you a thing. To the contrary, your family has treated me abominably, and that’s not including the stunt you pulled today. Cassie and I should press charges against you for kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, and assault, but Cassie has agreed that we won’t, provided you leave me alone.”

“Listen at you, talking all fancy and getting above your raising,” Joby Ray sneered. “You ain’t fooling nobody, Beenie. You can put a dress and garters on a pig, but it’s still a pig. You can’t change what you are.”

“That may be true, Joby Ray, but here’s what I’m not. I’m not a Skinner. Never have been, never will be, thank the good Lord. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joby Ray said. “Whatever. Just tell this tin asshole to let me go.”

Verbena motioned. “Turn him loose, Jeb.”

Jeb dropped Joby Ray to the ground

 

Mr. Johnson had troubles of his own, Jeb sang with a sad shake of his head.

“I understand what you’re saying, Jeb,” Verbena said, “but what else can I do?”

Joby Ray adjusted his twisted clothes. “I tell you what you can do, Beenie. You can kiss my ass. And you’d better sleep with one eye open, ’cause I’m coming for you.”

“One more thing, Joby Ray,” Verbena called after him as he sauntered away. “I want Bo-Bo. I raised him and he’s mine.”

Joby Ray turned with a cruel laugh. “Bo-Bo? The mutt’s dead. Killed him myself.”

Cassandra gasped. Rushing to Verbena’s side, she tried to put her arms around the girl, but Verbena shrugged her off.

“Leave me be.” The girl stepped forward. Her face was very white. “You shouldn’t ’uv done that, Joby Ray.”

Joby Ray laughed again. “I see you forget your fancy words when you’s riled. Knowed it was fer show.”

“You shouldn’t ’uv killed Bo-Bo,” Verbena said again. “Now you done gone and made me mad.”

“Whatchoo gon’ do about it, Beenie?” Joby Ray taunted. “Enhance me to death?”

“Do you know what an antonym is, Joby Ray?” Verbena asked in an eerily flat voice. “’Course you don’t. It means opposite. Know what the opposite of the word enhance is, Joby Ray? It’s diminish.”

She raised her hands, palms outward and facing Joby Ray, and Duncan felt the tug of gathered power. He glanced at Cassandra, assuming it was she, but she shook her head and looked at Verbena. Her message was clear: Verbena was the wielder.

Duncan was surprised and unsettled. Gathered power was a thrumming in the veins, the zing of energy along the nerves. This sensation was different. It was enervating, draining.

The sensation deepened, and he heard Cassandra murmur in alarm. Beside her, Taryn and Grim shifted nervously. They felt it, too, then, this singular magic.

“What?” Joby Ray said, sneering at their unease. “Little Beenie’s giving me the hands. Big deal.” He shivered in mock dread. “I’m shaking in my boots.”

Suddenly, he grunted and clutched his belly. “What’s happening?” The shifter went to his knees, a look of horror on his face. “Whatchoo doing? Stop it, Verbena.”

“I’m draining you,” Verbena said without an ounce of emotion. “I’m sapping every last drop of talent from you, you weasel-dick, dog-killing bastard. You’ll never shift again or break another lock. You’re done.”

When it was finished, Verbena walked over and looked down at him. “Welcome to Normville, Joby Ray,” she said. “Tell the rest of the family they mess with me again, I’ll un-kith them, too.”

She stepped over the prostrate man and ran, sobbing, for the woods. Jeb Hannah turned and lumbered after her.

“Verbena,” Cassandra cried, starting to follow the girl.

Duncan pulled her into his arms. “Let her go, my love. The peanut feller will keep her safe, and she’ll come home when she’s ready.”

“Home.” Cassandra buried her face in his neck. “Take me home, Duncan. Please.”

“As milady commands,” he said.

Nodding in farewell to Taryn and Grim, he stepped into the void. The world melted around them, and they were standing in Cassandra’s drive.

“I meant the tree house,” Cassandra said, with a little huff when she realized where they were.

“I beg your pardon,” Duncan said, much chastened. “’Twas my thought you would wish to ascertain the well-being of Blaze and her mother.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she admitted with a sigh. “Very well. Let’s go inside.”

Toby bounded out of the house, his expression anxious. “You okay, doll? Those dadburn demon hunters beamed themselves up and left me behind. I been worried sick.” He looked around. “Where’s Verbena?”

“In the woods,” Cassandra said. “She’s okay. Just needed a little time.” She made a face. “Family drama.”

“That’s too bad.” Toby held the door for them to enter, then followed them into the hall. “Those Skinners won’t take no for an answer.” He nudged Duncan with his elbow. “I’m thinking you and I ought to pay them a little visit. Set ’em straight, if you know what I mean.”

“I do not think the Skinners will trouble Verbena further,” Duncan said. “She’s made her feelings quite plain.”

Blaze’s mother came down the steps. “You all right, Cassie?”

“I’m fine,” Cassandra assured the woman. “A headache, but nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure. How are you and Blaze?”

The woman gave Cassandra a grateful smile. “I’m right as rain, and Blaze is feeling much better. In fact, I’m having trouble keeping the little rascal in bed.” Her joyous expression dimmed. “She should be well enough to travel in a few days, and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Where will you go?” Toby asked.

“I don’t rightly know.” The woman’s delight faded. “Don’t have a place in mind.”

“Then you and Blaze will stay here until you get on your feet,” Cassandra said. “There’s plenty of room.”

“Oh, no. We couldn’t impose.”

“I insist. You’d be doing me a favor, actually.”

The woman looked puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

“W-e-l-l.” Leaning closer, Cassandra said in a confiding manner, “You see, Duncan and I are getting married soon, and—”

“We are?” Duncan said, the world tilting under his feet.

“You are?” Toby echoed.

“Yes, we are.” Arching her brows, his love looked at him in a way that made Duncan’s heart hammer. “Aren’t we?”

“Cassandra, my love.” Tugging her into his arms, Duncan kissed her.

“It’s all very well for you to say Cassandra in that dramatic way,” his sweet hornet said, “but that isn’t an answer.” She thumped him on the chest. “Are we getting married, or not?”

“Of a certainty,” Duncan said, kissing her again. “’Tis my heart’s desire to call you mine own.”

“Good,” Cassandra said with a happy sigh. “Then it’s settled. Laura and Blaze will stay here—”

“Laura?” Duncan said.

“Blaze’s mother.” Cassandra motioned to the woman. “As I was saying, they’ll stay here with Verbena so Verbena won’t be alone. It’s the perfect solution.”

Laura looked dumbfounded. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes,” Cassandra said. “Duncan has a place across the river, and we’ll be staying there.”

Duncan cleared his throat. “Strictly speaking, my love, you have a place across the river. ’Twas a gift, an you recall.”

“Yes, it was.” Cassandra gave him a smile that made him dizzy. “You see?” she said to Laura. “I can’t possibly live in two houses at once. That settles it. You and Blaze must stay here.”

Laura threw her arms around Cassandra and hugged her. “Thank you. You won’t be sorry, I promise.” She wiped her eyes and sniffed. “Oh, my goodness, I almost forgot. A woman named Nicole called this afternoon and left you a message. I wrote it down.” She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. “She said to tell you that somebody named Irene is dead.” She looked up from the note. “I’m so sorry. Was Irene a friend or a relative?”

“No,” said Cassandra. “I don’t know anybody named—” The answer dawned and she laughed. “Si-reen. The si-reen is dead. That’s wonderful news.”

Laura excused herself and went back upstairs to attend to her daughter, and Toby congratulated them on their happy news and headed home.

Duncan took Cassandra in his arms. “Now, I would hear you say you love me again.”

She smiled up at him, and his heart stuttered. “How about this? How about I tell you and show you? Would you like that?”

“Yes, milady,” Duncan said. “A thousand times, yes.”

And he whisked her across the river, where she did just that, and most satisfactorily. A Dalvahni warrior does not lie.

* * *

Evan slumped on his cushy leather man couch and stared, unseeing, at his expensive big-screen television. He was miserable in his own home, filled with a gnawing restlessness he could not explain, and that pissed him off.

What the hell? This house was the brass ring, the thing that had kept him going through the shit storm nightmare that had been his life with the demonic ’rents. A home of his own, his dream come true. A cozy crib, a clean, safe place to lay his head, not a vermin-ridden roach motel or a flophouse littered with drugged-out norms wallowing in their own piss and puke.

So why did he feel like he was coming out of his own skin? Why was he so angry?

The scented candle on the coffee table climbed up his nose. Violets. The candle smelled like frigging violets. He’d stood in the grocery aisle smelling candles until he’d gotten dizzy, searching for one that reminded him of her. Pathetic.

Lashing out, he kicked the table with his foot, knocking it over. The candle jar shattered on the floor, and glass and bits of wax went everywhere.

Cursing, he trudged into the utility room to fetch the broom and dustpan. He was sweeping up the last of the mess when the doorbell rang.

He wouldn’t answer it. Whoever it was, he was in no mood for company. He would stay here, prowling his once-comfy sanctuary like a trapped animal, longing for something he couldn’t have.

Red, the Kirvahni itch he could never scratch.

Shit, he’d been better off with the ’rents. Physical pain he could stand, but this . . . this feeling, like an amputee reaching for a missing limb. This was goddamn awful.

The bell chimed again, high and insistent. Someone was going to get the ass-chewing of their life.

Evan threw the broom down and stomped through the house. He yanked the front door open, the blistering rebuke dying on his lips. Taryn stood on his porch, salvation and every good thing that ever was dressed in jeans and a flowy top, her glorious hair braided over one shoulder, and an almost shy smile on her lips.

He drank in the sight of her, storing the image of her away for the lonely future.

“What do you want?” he demanded in the surliest tone he could muster.

The shy smile faded, her familiar mask of reserve dropping into place. She held up a crockery jug. “I brought mead for the Vikings, and I . . . I thought we could talk.”

“Mead for the—” He frowned. “Oh, for Christ’s sake, don’t you know better than to listen to Duncan? There aren’t any damn Vikings.”

“No?” She lowered the jug and straightened her shoulders. “Nevertheless, I still think we should talk about what happened in the woods.”

“That?” Evan let his lip curl in an expression of contempt. “That was nothing. It’s forgotten already.”

“I see.”

“Good. Now go away. I’m busy.”

“You do not comprehend me. I see you, Evan. I see your feelings, and you are lying. What happened in the woods was not nothing. It has shaken you to the core, as it has me. It has changed everything.”

Evan’s chest was on fire. He wanted to grab her, to hold on to her and never let her go, but that would be a mistake, and he knew it.

“Okay, you got me,” he said. “That kiss was fucking fantastic, but it’ll never work. Oh, sure, it’ll be great . . . for a while, and then we’ll tear each other apart. We’re too different.”

A storm gathered in her gray eyes. “What are you afraid of?”

Everything, he wanted to shout. You, god dammit. I’m terrified of you.

“I’m not afraid of shit,” he said, taking refuge in defiance. “I’m just not interested in your scrawny ginger ass. You got that?”

Taryn’s face paled and she set her lips in the tight little line that drove him nuts.

Carefully, she set the jug on the bench by the door. “I see. Forgive me for disturbing you. ’Twill not happen again, on my word as a Kirvahni.”

Shoulders stiff, she turned to go. It was the right thing to do, and Evan knew it. They would be a disaster together.

She would end him.

She was walking away from him. She was leaving. He should let her go. He should—

“Aw, hell,” Evan said, leaping after her.

“Red, I didn’t mean it. You’re right. I was lying. Red? Red.”

He caught her at the top of the steps. Pulling her close, he buried his face in her hair. She smelled like spring violets and rain and redemption.

“Don’t leave. God, Red, I—”

Words failed him, so he kissed her, pouring all his hunger and yearning and need into the kiss. Need for her. Only for Red.

A strangled sound made him look up. Old Lady Copeland was standing at her mailbox watching them, her eyes bulging.

Evan pulled Taryn into the house and closed the door.