Demon Hunting in Dixie. Lexi George

Why, then, this fire in his gut and brain, and the unreasoning desire to permanently separate Dinky Farris from his mister?

      “Is something wrong, Brand?”

      He dragged his unfocused gaze off the street and looked down at Adara. Her pale hair curled in a tangled halo around her lovely face. A rose blush tinted the delicate curves of her cheeks and stained her lush mouth. She gazed up at him, her brown eyes luminous.

      “You have lain with this Dinky?”

      Her eyes widened. “Me with Dinky Farris? Not no, but hell no. Major yuck.”

      “Then how do you know how he puts it in his pants?”

      “I don’t! It was a joke. For Pete’s sake, Dinky is my brother’s age.”

      “Many women find older men attractive.”

      “Well, sure, but not Dinky. I mean, did you see him? He’s got about as much meat on him as a chicken wing, and then there’s the mullet from hell. Billy Ray Cyrus on Rogaine and acid.” She looked at him under her lashes. “I do like older men. Much older men. Men who’ve been around the block a few thousand year—”

      “You did not lie with him?”

      “No.” She kicked her heels in an adorable fashion. “Put me down. You’ve gone and made me mad.”

      “Good. I am glad I make you mad. I think I have been a little mad since first I saw you.”

      He kissed her. She tasted like honey and spices. He forgot about the djegrali and his duty as a warrior, and the directive against fraternization with mortals. He forgot they stood on a street corner in full view of everyone that passed. He forgot everything except the blissful heat of her mouth. He was shaking with need by the time he ended the kiss, and cognizant of one fact. If he did not have this woman and soon, he would go stark staring mad.

      “Mama, what’s that man doing to that lady?”

      “She’s got something stuck in her throat, Little Will. He’s trying to get it out.”

      Brand raised his head. A small crowd had gathered around them. A woman and her little boy stood closest to them, gawking.

      “With his tongue? Yuck, grown-ups are weird.” The boy looked up at his mother. “You ever get something caught in your mouth like that, Mama?”

      “ ’Course not, Little Will. Don’t be silly.”

      “Then how come I saw Mr. Lucas sticking his tongue in your mouth down at the hardware store last Saturday? You want me to tell Daddy? Maybe he can help you get it out.”

      The woman turned scarlet and jerked the little boy down the street.

      Bemused, Brand watched the woman hurry off.

      “Well, at least that will give them something else to talk about,” Adara said. She waved her hand at the cluster of onlookers. “Hey, how y’all doing?”

      “That you, Addy?” An elderly man with a long, saggy face squinted up at them. “You all right, or is this feller bothering you?”

      “I’m fine, thank you, Mr. Duffey.”

      “Saw your gal friend Evie a while ago. She was with another long, tall drink of water. Great big blond feller.”

      “Really?” Adara murmured.

      “Yep.” The old man’s gaze shifted to Brand. “Your mama know where you are, Addy?”

      “Yes, sir, she knows.”

      Brand looked around. “The mama has supernatural powers of sight in addition to being an incendiary device?”

      “No.”

      “Then that is an untruth, Adara. The mama does not know where you are.”

      “She might not know exactly where I am right this minute, but she knows I’m in town and that I’m with you.”

      “That is not what you told this human. Your speech is most imprecise.”

      The old man slapped his leg. “He’s a funny one, ain’t he? I take it from the way you two was a-smooching that he’s your beau.”

      Adara flushed. “Uh, well . . . I don’t . . .”

      Brand processed this bit of conversation. Beau, a term signifying a man who was a young woman’s lover. He and Adara were not lovers yet. Not in the strictest sense of the word. But they would be. Soon. This was an immutable fact.

      “Yes,” he told the Duffey human. “I am Adara’s beau.”

      Mr. Duffey looked him up and down. “That so?”

      “And you fussed at me?” Adara said. “Talk about telling a whopper. Liar, liar pants on fire.”

      Brand felt her quiver with indignation. “A rhythmically pleasing but ambiguous expression, Adara,” he said. “Are you implying that I am such a horrible liar that my pants have recently, or are about to, burst into flame? Or do you mean to say that hearing me lie is comparable to donning blazing garb?”

      “I’m saying you told Mr. Duffey a big old lie. Is that clear enough for you, bub? You are not my beau. We met yesterday.”

      Brand looked her in the eye. Some of the seething mixture of lust and frustration that churned within him must have shown in his expression, because she went still.

      “We may have met yesterday, but we have exchanged essences. And we will be sexual partners, Adara. It is only a matter of time.”

      Adara gasped. “Are you out of your mind?”

      “Exchanged essences?” The lines around Mr. Duffey’s eyes crinkled in delight. “That’s not what they called it in my day, but I reckon the gist is the same.”

      The old man chuckled and moved off down the street.

      Chapter Ten

      For a moment Addy gaped at Brand, too stunned and embarrassed to say anything. No Southern lady aired her business in public, and Brand had done everything short of parading down Main Street wearing her panties on the top of his perfectly formed head. Exchanged essences, indeed. He might as well have put an ad in the Hannah Herald saying they’d boinked. She went to church with Herbert Duffey. How was she supposed to look him in the eye the next time they passed the peace, for goodness’ sake? He’d be thinking of a different kind of piece from now on, wouldn’t he? That sweet old man thought that she and Brand had . . . had . . . That she would . . .

      Okay, so maybe she would—in a heartbeat—but that was beside the point. A gentleman did not do anything to call a lady’s honor and virtue into question. Her virtue had been laid out on Main Street and rolled over by a Mack truck. Her virtue was flatter than a flitter and had big, black tire marks all over it.

      “Put me down, you jerk.” Equal parts hurt and humiliated, she thumped him on the chest with both hands. “Right now.”

      “No.”

      “I said put me down.”

      Addy’s skin tingled. The next moment she was sitting in the tree looking down at Brand.

      “Adara, come down.”

      “Very funny. Like you didn’t put me up here in the first place.”

      “I did not put you in the tree. Such a thing would be illogical. It would serve no purpose.” His voice deepened. “Why would I put you up there, little one, when I would much rather have you here in my arms?”

      Man, oh man, he was good! She was mad enough to spit nails, and he still had her melting into a puddle with his sexy voice.