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Authors: Lexi George

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Chapter Ten
A
ngry voices roused Sassy from slumber. Evan . . . he sounded upset about something. A door slammed and he was gone. She should check on him, but she was
so
tired.
Grim's arms tightened around her. She gave in to temptation and snuggled closer to him, burying her nose against his muscular neck. His long hair brushed her cheek, threads of shampoo-scented silk. The guy might be irritating as new shoes on a blister, but he made a darn good pillow. And he smelled three kinds of wonderful.
I could eat him up with a spoon
, she thought, and drifted back to sleep.
An interesting idiom, though I prefer “never bite off more than you can chew.” I find human phraseology fascinating. “Hesitate before you break off a greater amount than you can masticate” means the same thing, but it lacks flavor, does it not?
The detached voice in her head startled Sassy and sent her spiraling toward consciousness.
“What is this female to you, Grim? Your interest in her is evident,” she heard someone say.
Conall; that voice, cold and treacherous as black ice, belonged to Captain Scary.
“I am sworn to protect her.”
Conall chuckled. The unexpected sound startled Sassy. Tall, Dark, and Deadly had a sense of humor?
“That is how these things usually start,” Conall said.
“What things?”
Grim's words were slurred.
“No matter,” Conall said. “We will discuss it when you are sober. Be on your guard with Evan. He consorts with demons.” The deep freeze crept back into his voice. “And he tried to hurt Rebekah.”
“Rebekah?”
“My wife.”
“It is true then? You
married
one of them?”
“Oh, yes.”
There was a wealth of pride and satisfaction in the two words, and Sassy felt a twinge of envy. Whoever Rebekah was, she was one lucky gal.
“What quarrel has Evan with your wife?”
“He is Rebekah's twin. He arrived in Hannah in the company of two djegrali. They plotted to enlist the kith in a war for earth.”
“Kith?”
“A term used by demonoids to refer to their kind,” Conall said. “The kith vary in talent and strength, depending on how much demon blood courses through their veins. They make powerful enemies . . . or valuable allies. Evan wanted Rebekah at his side in the coming battle. When she refused to cooperate, Evan tried to kill her. That I cannot forgive.”
Sassy's insides did a queasy somersault. Evan tried to kill his sister? There must be some mistake. Evan was a little rough around the edges, but he wouldn't do that.
Pay them no heed, Sassy Peterson
. The dry voice inside Sassy's head distracted her from Grim and Conall's conversation.
I would converse with you.
There was a light touch on Sassy's mind, and she dropped back to sleep.
Much better
, the calm voice said.
Are you the Provider?
Sassy floated in a comfortable drowse.
Yes.
Why can I hear you? I'm not Dalvahni.
I suspect your fae infusion may be at the heart of it. Grim also imparted some measure of his essence to you when he repaired your broken limb. It is for this reason the Directive discourages the Dal from healing mortals, lest they be altered. Tampering with the order of things is seldom wise.
I'm fay-vahni? Oh, spiffy.
A witty term for it, though imprecise, as it does not account for your demon blood.
I'm not a demon.
No, you are demonoid, which is altogether different. The djegrali—or demons, as you would call them—are amorphous beings. They crave physical sensation. To satisfy their carnal appetites, they prey upon humans and other temporal creatures. Their victims are possessed, their bodies spent. Then the demon moves on to the next.
How horrible.
Indeed. A demonoid is the offspring of a demon-possessed human. Your father was a demonoid. I believe your demon blood is the source of your effervescent effect on others. It is your “gift,” as it were.
Nice never hurt nobody.
False, Sassy Peterson. I have examined your memories. It takes every ounce of your considerable energy to cheer others, especially your female parental unit. You have devoted your life to lightening her despondency.
You've been poking around in my head?
Sassy was indignant.
That's wrong. A person's thoughts should be their own.
Why? I frequently read Grim's thoughts. He does not seem to mind.
That's his little red wagon.
An amusing image, but I sense you are offended. I did not mean to overstep. I find your thought processes fascinating. Vastly different from Grim's.
That I can believe.
Do not judge him too harshly. He has been much alone.
Maybe if he tried being a little more pleasant, he'd have more friends.
Grim's solitude is self-imposed. It has spanned centuries.
Centuries? That's impossible.
How old are you, Sassy Peterson?
Twenty-five.
And in your twenty-five years, you have seen enough of the universe to say with authority what is and what is not?
Sassy thought about her day and the deep-fried vat of weirdity she'd taken a dip in.
No, I'm starting to think I don't know anything.
The beginning of wisdom
, the Provider said.
Why does Grim keep to himself?
He blames himself for his brother Gryffin's death. They were twins, you see, created by Kehvahn, the god of the Dalvahni, from the same spark of life essence. The Dalvahni hold one another in esteem, but the bond between Grim and Gryff was special. They were inseparable. Though the Dal mourned Gryff's passing, Grim took his twin's death hard. He has remained aloof from his brothers out of guilt. Single-minded in his dedication to avenge Gryff's death upon the djegrali.
How many brothers does Grim have?
The Dal were once some two hundred strong until Kell was beheaded by a demon in the form of a giant. Thorkall fell into the Never-ending Chasm of Yarth, and Gryffin was slain in battle.
Two hundred? That's not—
Sassy caught herself.
Possible?
The Provider chuckled.
The Dalvahni are not a family in the human sense. They were created for a single purpose, to hunt the djegrali. Their task has spanned thousands of years.
Thousands of years? Goodness me, I can't imagine doing anything that long, not even shopping.
The Dalvahni take pride in a job well done. They do not know boredom, for their emotional spectrum is limited
, the Provider said.
Their courage and loyalty know no bounds. Their sense of honor and commitment to duty is unswerving. They take pride in the hunt. They have endless patience when it comes to completing an appointed task. Rage, sexual desire, battle lust... These are emotions they know, but not guilt.
In an impassive race, Grim's guilt set him apart. Guilt Sassy understood. Guilt kept her tied to her mother's apron strings. Guilt was the reason she'd gone to college in Mobile, close to home, rather than in Tuscaloosa, like she'd wanted.
Guilt was the reason she still managed the pickle factory gift shop.
Grim's loneliness is what forged our unique bond
, the Provider said.
The other guys don't talk to you?
We do not converse. They access my data and move on.
Sassy digested this. Grim had been alone for centuries with only a nameless, formless voice inside his head for comfort.
That's
Harry and the Hendersons
sad.
I do not understand the reference.
It's a movie about a Sasquatch.
The Provider was quiet; Sassy could almost hear the wheels clicking as he cross-referenced the strange term.
You refer to a large, hairy, humanoid beast that inhabits the deep wild. Correct?
He didn't say a large, hairy
mythical
beast. Holy smokarooneys, Bigfoot was real.
Um, yes.
This
Harry and the Hendersons
is a tragic tale?
The worst
.
Harry is taken in by humans. They learn to love one another, in spite of their differences. At the end of the movie, Harry has to leave and go back to the forest and the other Sasquatches. I cried for three days. After that, I wasn't allowed to watch sad movies anymore.
Your tender heart does you credit. I am glad Grim found you, Sassy Peterson. You will be good for him.
Grim and I are not a couple.
Grim is attracted to you. You are attracted to him as well.
I most certainly am no—
Denial is pointless. I have seen your thoughts.
Oh, gosh, how embarrassing.
Why? Sexual attraction between two healthy specimens is perfectly natural. If I were corporeal, I should find it vastly interesting. I anticipate with great relish the opportunity to study you and Grim when you engage in sexual congress.
I'm not having sex with Grim. If I did—which I am SO not, because I'm engaged and—well, I'm not. Besides, he hasn't offered. Even if we did—you know—you would not be watching. That would be aco-taco.
Why? I expect the experience to be highly enlightening.
No, absolutely not. Grim and I are not having sex.
You are certain?
Positive
.
What's more, if we're going to be friends, you can't spy on me anymore.
I would like to be your friend, Sassy Peterson. Must I refrain from reading your thoughts? I find you intriguing.
No peeking. Stay out of my head unless invited. Deal?
Agreed
, the Provider said with obvious reluctance.
Good. I could use a friend around here.
Hannah is a remarkable place, is it not?
Oh, yes. I thought fairies and wicked witches were nothing but stories.
Most stories have some basis in reality.
I suppose so. Guess I missed the one about the giant glowing deer.
Giant deer? Was this before or after the fairies?
So he hadn't seen
all
of her memories. Yay. Sassy tried to stay upbeat, but there were a few not-so-sparkly thoughts floating around inside her head she'd rather keep to herself.
Before
, Sassy said
. He was big as a horse and white, and there were these clever little lights floating around his antlers. Birds and flowers, and fuzzy whirly things . . . and, oh, the most beautiful butterfly. It landed on my palm and melted into my skin.
I see. Grim is presently intoxicated on something called chocolate.
Chocolate, really? I thought maybe it was the sugar.
The Dalvahni are unaffected by drugs or alcohol. Not so with chocolate.
Grim had glugged down more than a quart of Hershey's syrup. That explained why he'd broken into song and had the mush mouth.
Tell me, Sassy Peterson, do you indulge in mind-altering substances?
Certainly not.
Then I must surmise from your description you encountered Sildhjort, a minor deity who favors the form of a stag. There have been recent sightings of him in the area.
I had a close encounter with a god? Mother-of-pearl.
An odd combination of words. What does it mean?
Nothing in particular. It's something I say when I'm startled.
An exclamation of surprise? I study expressions. Here are a few of my favorites from your language.
The Provider launched into a rapid-fire recitation of expletives that would make a crew of sailors blush.
Goodness
, Sassy said, taken aback.
That's quite a collection.
That is nothing. The Yarthians pride themselves on the art of insult.
The Provider's dry voice warmed.
Do you know there are over a thousand expressions for dung eater alone in Yarthac?
Um, no. I don't speak Yarthac.
Of course you don't. Remiss of me. Allow me to elucidate you. A particularly clever one is—
Provider, do you have another name?
Sassy asked to stem the flow.
I was wondering, you know, now that we're friends.
Provider is the name Grim gave me. It does not please you?
It's not a name. It's a job description. Wouldn't you rather be called something more personal? Harold or Ralph, or Cecil, perhaps?
I would like that very much. Do you think Grim will object?
So what if he does? You have free will.
The Provider was silent.
Hello?
You pose an interesting philosophical question, one that I have given much thought. Do I have free will? What makes one “real”?

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