The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Collection: Books 1-6: A Complete Paranormal Romantic Comedy Series

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The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Collection: Books 1-6: A Complete Paranormal Romantic Comedy Series Page 5

by Deborah Wilde


  I rested my feet on the dashboard, slouched in my seat. “Not enough excitement for you, brother dear?”

  He shrugged. “Eh.”

  I stuffed my fists under my butt, the sight of my hands still troubling. “That disturbs me about you.” As did the fact that the idiot was going to get himself killed.

  “Sucks a bit less since it was only a PD.” He flicked on his blinker, pissing off the chick behind us who honked multiple times.

  I lowered my window to shoot her the finger. The cool night air streaming over me was invigorating enough to keep me upright so I kept it unrolled. “What kind of a demon is a PD?”

  “Old Rasha joke. What do you call a half-demon?”

  I shook my head.

  “Practice. Practice demon.”

  “PD. Ooh, bitchy. But she was a hybrid.”

  “Yeah. Probably some genetic throwback on the demon side. Still just half-demonic. Half-human.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Dust ’em and you’re gold. Literally. PDs explode into gold dust. Josh was a halfie as well.” Ari made a sharp left, pulling into a convenience store parking lot. “Back in a sec,” he said, leaving me in the car with the motor running.

  I fiddled with the stereo knob, unable to take any more musical torture.

  Moments later he was back with a plastic bag. He pulled out a blue sports drink, cracked the cap, and handed it to me. “Drink. You need the electrolytes.”

  I wasn’t a fan of these things so my first sip was tentative, but the liquid hit my system like a rush of cocaine. I chugged the rest down in one go. “More,” I breathed.

  He handed me the other drink that he’d purchased, this one a yummy orange-esque flavor. Once I’d downed that too, I sighed in satisfaction. “That was amazing.”

  Ari backed out of the spot, shaking his head. “Don’t ever make that sound in my presence again.”

  I twisted the cap shut, jamming it back into the bag with the other empty bottle. “If I could give the power back, I would. It should be you joining Demon Club.”

  My brother merged back into the light traffic, homeward bound. “I know.” He ran a hand through his bedhead, spiking his blond tufts. “But it doesn’t seem like either of us are going to get what we want.”

  There was nothing I could say to that, so I channel-surfed, looking for a song to reflect my mood. The only thing that came close was “Bound,” an angsty charged hit from a few years ago by Fugue State Five. I sang along to the last verse.

  “You know the words?” Ari didn’t sound impressed.

  I shrugged, betting he did too since we would have had to have been living in a cave during our teen years not to know the emo boy band that had taken the world by storm. Also, Leonie had been obsessed with them, playing their music incessantly.

  The next song was some crap rock ballad so I punched the radio button off. The silence was deafening.

  Ari shot me a sideways glance. “Gotta say I’m surprised you’re not celebrating. Finally having a tangible way of keeping people at bay and all.”

  I slapped my feet onto the car mat. “I don’t do that.”

  My brother snorted. “Right. You welcome them in with open arms.” He pursed his lips. “These last few years? It’s like you decided to make yourself this prickly ball of chaos.”

  “The PC among us call it ‘hot mess,’” I quipped.

  “Kinda ironic that your power is a physical manifestation of that.”

  The vein at my temple throbbed. “You’re wrong. My sucky superpower is just that. Sucky. Not some kind of subconscious desire made real.”

  One hand on the wheel, he waved the other around, speaking in a mock scary voice. “Whooo, don’t get too close to me, I might shock you.” He dropped his voice an octave into horror movie voice over. “And this time, it’s deadly.”

  “I’m not the only deadly one,” I said waspishly. “Got any other weapons strapped to your body?”

  “Nah. The knives were something I started playing around with a while ago. Doctoring up the best high salt concentration, finding the most effective method of coating the blade.” He flashed me the thick silver ring on his middle finger with a ruby or red garnet in the middle. “See this? Iron poison ring. Literally.” He spared another glance at the ring before his hands tightened on the wheel. “I was playing around with stuff for when I took my rightful place and all that.”

  My anger deflated at the reminder of what he’d lost. “You, Ari Katz, are my hero.”

  My brother took his eyes off the road long enough to give me a crooked grin. “And you, Nava Katz, are a really shitty demon hunter.”

  Chapter 4

  The lights were blazing in every room in our house when we pulled into the car port out back. It kind of kiboshed my plan to sneak in and then hide out in my room until my parents cooled down. Ari, the keener, bounded off ahead of me. My walk had more of a “headed to the guillotine” vibe to it.

  I veered into the backyard to snap a few stalks off Mom’s aloe plant to apply to my still-throbbing chest. It was a gorgeous night, made more so by the fact that I was still alive. I raised my face up to the stars, calmed by their distant pulsing. All was peaceful and still until my shoulder blades tensed like someone was behind me.

  The maybe-demon from Josh’s alleyway was back, having stopped about five feet away, triggering the motion sensor. What with Josh’s sister trying to kill me and all, he’d fallen off my radar.

  Aloe gooped over my fingers, having clutched the frond hard enough to break it, and my terror and an intense curiosity resurfaced. There was no denying his compelling presence. Plus, he had those long lashes that were my Kryptonite. I opened my mouth to scream. Or drool.

  He held a finger up to his delectable lips to keep me quiet, circling me with lazy strides, checking me out.

  I’d have been offended by the blatant appraisal except under his intense scrutiny, my clit, Cuntessa de Spluge lit up with an electric zing. I found myself stroking the aloe stalks in an obscene manner. Even knowing he couldn’t see my blush since I was in the shadows didn’t kill my utter mortification at jerking off plant life in not-so-subtextual yearning.

  He stalked toward me, his leather jacket rustling with each step.

  I held up a hand to stop him, the faintest electric crackle pulsing off my skin.

  He didn’t stop, didn’t slow. In fact, he kept up his steady approach until his hand covered mine. My magic shocked us both at his touch. I gasped and shivered as pleasure, not pain, rumbled through me.

  Hand still clasped in his, he stared at me suspiciously, instead of in fear, but had I wanted, I could have broken his hold. Not a demon, then? He fingered the thin silver necklace I wore with surprising gentleness, toying with the cute floral pendant dangling off it that read “I will kick you in the balls if I have to.”

  “Should I be scared?” Given how he sounded like sex, sin, and salaciousness–the true definition of a triple threat–I decided that yes, he was most definitely a demon.

  I met his mocking gaze, my rooted stance and beating heart placing me somewhere between morbid fascination and noping the fuck out at warp speed.

  “Nava,” Ari called from the top of the stairs.

  I jerked toward his voice. “Here.”

  My intruder backed away, melting into the night. I might have followed had Ari not called for me again. Instead, I hurried into the kitchen to find Mom, Dad, Rabbi Abrams, and a tree trunk of a man, about ten years older than me, with shoulder-length black hair and sharp blue eyes sitting at the kitchen table. His hair, combined with the hemp bracelets around his wrist, made him look like a Special Ops surfer dude. The floral yellow espresso cup that my parents had picked up at some overpriced ceramics studio in Italy was like a toy in his huge hand.

  A platter of mostly untouched Danish pastry sat in the middle of the table, though given the three on his plate, Rabbi Abrams was doing his best to plough through them. I sent the dessert a longing glance, but before
I could reach for a pastry, Tree Trunk rose to his almost six and a half feet, cracked his neck that was bigger than my thigh, and lumbered toward me.

  “Baruch Ya’ari,” Ari said in the most awestruck voice I’d ever heard him use.

  I didn’t care if this Baruch guy was the second coming, I hid behind my brother. Ari tugged me out to face the scary stranger, pushing me forward into his path.

  “Baruch is usually based at HQ in Jerusalem,” Rabbi Abrams piped up, chewing. “He–”

  “Invented the Stinger,” Ari said. Wow. Fanboy a little more, bro.

  “Ari is the chemistry student I told you about,” the rabbi said to Baruch.

  My unflappable brother actually squeaked when he said that.

  “But due to the… situation,” Rabbi Abrams continued, “it is Nava you will be training in fighting and weapons skills.”

  How about showing some tact, old man? Couldn’t he see Ari’s shoulders slump? Though I perked up at hearing there were weapons. I looked down at the aloe in my hand. I could do weapons.

  Baruch let his gaze roam slowly up my body like he was cataloging my every weakness and maybe taking my blood pressure.

  I jutted my chin out.

  Mom tapped her finger against her cup, her wedding ring clinking against the ceramic.

  “No,” Tree Trunk barked when he’d finished his inspection. He spoke with that gravelly abruptness of many Israeli men.

  I dropped the aloe on the counter. “No, what?” I didn’t recall hearing a question.

  Baruch made a dismissive raspberry noise. “She is not Rasha material.”

  Mom deflated. Dad put his arm around her and she leaned into him. WTF?

  I didn’t have time to process them being upset on my behalf, because this was my shot. “You’re right. I’m not.” I shoved Ari at him. “But he is. He killed a demon tonight. Saved my life.”

  Tree Trunk stilled. He zeroed in on my brother who scowled at me. I nodded virtuously. There was only room for one demon hunter in our family and it was going to be Ari.

  “How?” Baruch asked.

  Ari launched into an explanation.

  Tree Trunk’s stoic demeanor loosened up enough to blink approvingly during Ari’s recounting of the lamp post and ankle sheath. I took it as him being impressed with my twin.

  Even the rabbi beamed with pride. My parents were certainly happy. When Ari finished, my mother prodded the still silent Baruch. “Well?”

  I crossed my fingers.

  Baruch gave another infuriating raspberry. “He took down some bastard of Asmodeus’.”

  “The demon of lust,” Ari murmured at my questioning glance. “Major player in the demon hierarchy.”

  “…And the other one did the killing,” Baruch said.

  “Big deal. Get him a magic hand,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m alive thanks to Ari and his training. I refuse to believe he isn’t supposed to be Rasha.” Rabbi Abrams opened his mouth but I cut him off, knowing what he was going to say. “I don’t care if you ran the ceremony again. Ari is the chosen one, not me.”

  Baruch swung his gaze to me.

  Uh-oh. I’d put myself back on his radar. “Yes?”

  “What did you do to her brother?” he asked. “What was the demon referring to?”

  Picked up on that part of the story, had he? Mostly I’d done with her brother. Just a little bit of to at the end of our time together. “Nothing worth recounting.” In front of my parents. “She was an evil fiend,” I continued. “Talking crazy. Back to Ari.”

  “Nava killed him as well,” Ari piped up.

  I slapped my hand over his mouth. “As I was saying, back to Ari who is humble, which I believe is the first rule of Demon Club. He’s so humble, in fact, that he’s willing to lie like a rug to throw the spotlight off of him.”

  “There is no Demon Club,” Baruch pronounced.

  Ari yanked my hand off him at the same time that I said, “Fine. Sorry. Not Demon Club.” Seems they were touchy about their nickname. “The Brotherhood of David.”

  “No,” Baruch corrected me, “The first rule of Demon Club. It’s ‘there is no Demon Club.’”

  I crossed my arms. “Really? You’re going to get a sense of humor now?”

  He mirrored my stance. “Really? You’re going to keep avoiding my question?”

  I mimed zipping my lips and throwing away the key.

  Tree Trunk turned to Ari. “How?” Such a popular question this evening.

  My brother opened his mouth, blanched at the realization that we’d neglected to create a parent-friendly version of events, then pointed at me. “Ask her.”

  I tugged on my lips to show they were still zipped.

  The rabbi said a few words in Hebrew.

  This time Baruch’s blink conveyed such disapproval that everyone leaned away from him. Who was this guy? Some kind of Zen eye master?

  Rabbi Abrams said a few more things. None of them the ten words of Hebrew still imprinted on my brain from summer camp.

  Baruch’s hand shot out and grabbed my right hand. He pulled on the ring so hard I howled in pain, attempting to jerk away. Emphasis on attempt. Vises were easier to escape. He leaned in close, his fingers tightening. “Give. It. Back.” His blue eyes darkened in menace.

  That was it. My limit on bullying for today. I was exhausted and I’d kill for a shower because the demon dust on my skin was starting to itch. I leaned in until our noses practically touched. “Bite. Me.”

  The room fell into shocked silence. Then Baruch laughed. A rusty bark of surprise. “Beseder,” he said using the Hebrew word for okay. He patted my head. “Sleep. Tomorrow you start.”

  “Uh, no. Tomorrow you figure out how to fix this.” I pointed at my brother. “He’s the one you want, not me.”

  “True,” Baruch said with a smile Ari’s way that made him preen. I gagged. “But you are who we have,” Baruch said to me, his smile gone. “So we will keep you alive and you will kill many demons.” Before I could present any further arguments, he strode out the back door and into the night without a look back.

  Rabbi Abrams gave us a kind of half bow and shuffled after him. “Baruch, wait! You drove.”

  Dad closed the back door after making sure the rabbi had made it down the stairs unharmed.

  “I think that went very well,” Mom said, rising. She grabbed a rag from the sink and started vigorously wiping down the counter.

  I slumped into a chair. “In what way?” When I’d left the house this afternoon, my parents had not been onboard with this new reality.

  “You made a positive impression on Baruch. Today was a bit of a shock. For all of us. But now we’ll readjust. This could be the new start you’ve been looking for.” Interesting that she was spouting all this positive affirmation crap yet hadn’t once met my eyes.

  Plus, I hadn’t been looking for a new start. My present stagnation was warm and cozy.

  My father gathered up the espresso cups. “Your mother is right.”

  I side-eyed Ari. He sat at the table, toying with a linen placemat. My rock of a brother looked deflated. Like sorrow was the only thing holding him together. “What about Ari?” I asked. “What’s he supposed to do now?”

  Mom stopped wiping. Her voice wavered as she said, “Ari will be… The world is still his for the taking.”

  Ari flinched.

  I slid off the stool, and snatched up my aloe, bound for hot water and then bed. “I haven’t agreed to this.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” Dad said. There it was again. Not, “You’ll be great.” Not even, “You can do this.” Just, “You have no option.” Everyone had made it very clear they were stuck with me. Maybe it was time for me to make it clear that I may have been chosen, but I still very much had a choice.

  I shrugged. “There’s not any way you can force me, is there?”

  My parents froze. That fact hadn’t occurred to them.

  I lay my hand on Ari’s shoulder. “Hey, Ace?” I murmure
d. “Thanks for the rescue. But the next time I run away, ignore my calls, stay out of the Find My iPhone, and let me stay gone.”

  Minutes later, I stood with my head bowed while scalding water pounded down the back of my neck. Hot showers might be evidence of the existence of angels and if they were, then the glowy buggers could show up any time and corral their wayward relations.

  The combination of the steam and the sugar scrub smeared all over my body was softening my stiff muscles, washing away fears and tensions. All right, washing away sweat and demon goo but they tamped the fears and tensions down a tad. I washed my death hand about sixty-seven times before I pronounced it free of demon and karma.

  Bad things really did come in threes. I’d been lucky tonight. No previous female Rasha meant that Josh had been unaware of the danger he’d been in from me, allowing my first show of magic to dust him. With his sister, Ari had been there. And with that last encounter in my backyard? I didn’t know what to make of that whole meeting and that bothered me more than the other two combined. Loath as I was to admit it, tomorrow I was going to march myself over to the Vancouver chapter and let them take me in hand.

  I shuddered, remembering Josh. Phrasing.

  I dumped some argon oil shampoo in my palm, lathering up. I’d tried running away and that had gotten me nowhere. Since I didn’t want to find myself in a repeat of tonight or, you know, actually dead the next time I met a demon, I’d play nice with Demon Club.

  More importantly, I had to help Ari. I wasn’t going to let my brother wither away. Much as Brotherhood history and tradition were screwing me hard and dry with no money on the bedside table afterwards, they worked in Ari’s favor. Whenever the Brotherhood determined Rasha initiate status, they committed to that (male) person without hesitation. Right now, they thought that they’d made a mistake with Ari, so their conviction that Ari was no longer an initiate was the biggest hurdle. Get the proof to correct that and his induction would swiftly follow. He’d be back on his rightful path.

 

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