I’d lost the battle not to cry. “Why push so hard for me to go to school then? Even now?”
“I was scared of how empty you were without dance. But I was always proud of you.”
“Really?” My skin was tingling, a warmth radiating through my body.
“Well, except maybe the past couple years. You’ve been a disaster, my girl.”
I choked out a laugh through my tears.
There wasn’t much talking after that, just the clock ticking and Mom’s arm around me as we looked at the photo of the girl I used to be.
Chapter 17
Any lingering anger at Rohan evaporated after my visit with my mom. She and I had wasted too much time on misplaced emotion and misunderstanding and I wasn’t about to do the same with him.
Ro waited for me on the front stairs at Demon Club, but he jumped to his feet when he saw my red-rimmed eyes. “What happened?”
“A good thing.” Things weren’t fixed between Mom and me, but they weren’t broken either and that was better than they’d been in a long time. I kissed him. “I don’t want to fight and I don’t care about anything except us being okay.”
“I don’t either. I love that we get to share everything about our lives, but it’s hard.” He gave me a wry grin. “I’m used to my autocratic ways.”
“I may be somewhat intractable myself. Not confirming or denying.”
“Best not to. We deal with danger all the time and I don’t want to add to yours. I never want to be the reason you get hurt. Physically or emotionally.” Rohan stroked my cheek. “Being thrown into all this? The way you’ve held your own and proven time and time again you can hunt with the best of us? You’re amazing.”
I blushed and mumbled my thanks.
“This is touching. Now we will all go into the bathroom and discuss douching together, sì?” Drio lounged in the front door.
I batted my eyelashes. “You’re the douche expert.”
His lips quirked.
“I had an idea about Candyman.” I led them back into the library, scooping up water bottles from the fridge on the way, and tossing them to the guys. “What if his name applies to a physical attribute, not a dealer handle?”
We entered all kinds of keywords into the database, scoring a match with “sugar.”
“Hoc demon. Rings a bell.” Drio spun his bottle on the table.
“Hoc is an acronym,” Rohan read. “Hydrogen, oxygen, carbon. They survive off this compound.”
“They eat sugar?” Drio said.
I picked at the label that was damp with condensation, a thought niggling at the corner of my brain.
Rohan dug deeper into the database. “They absorb it through their skin like plants with photosynthesis. Their intake cycle is twenty-four hours. Dusk to dusk. They need to be in their natural form to absorb the sugar.”
Drio snapped his fingers. “They’re related to fix demons.” The demons who fed off addictions.
I studied the drawing. The hoc looked like a hairless cat, but with a tiger head. “How big is it? Kitten or giant feral predator?”
“Cougar-sized,” Rohan said.
Drio tipped back in his chair. “How do we find a demon giving himself a sugar scrub before his night out?”
“Buying all that sugar, rubbing itself down, it’s a lot of hassle.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “Candyman used the wretas to distribute Sweet Tooth. Their home was in East Vancouver along the water. The drop was in Crab Park, also along the water on the Downtown East Side, and the first address we had for him?”
“East Van. Along the water?” Drio said.
“The most east, and not that far away from the water,” I said.
“What’s your point?”
“Guess what else is in that general area?” I took a sip of water. “The sugar refinery.” I pushed Ro’s bottle at him so he’d hydrate.
He nodded his thanks and drank some. “We may not be able to question the hoc while it’s in its natural form.”
“I could flash in, slap it with a tracking device, and get out,” Drio said. “We follow it, question it wherever we want. No problem.”
“Slight problem,” Rohan said. “Hocs have strong pair bondings and don’t tend to go anywhere alone. We’ll all go in case one of them needs distracting. Better to have us and not need us.”
“Slight other problem,” I said. “The refinery is at the port and we need clearance. Everything down there is fenced off with manned booths at every entrance.”
Drio fired off a text. “Sending in an ID request. The Brotherhood won’t be able to pull anything together for tonight, though.”
“Even better,” Rohan said. “Gives us time to match employee uniforms, get a layout, and figure out the most likely place to find the hoc.”
“We’ll do that tomorrow. Tonight we’re going out. Double date. I’ll tell Leo.” I cut off the men’s protests. “No. People need balance in their lives. There is always going to be another demon, something else we need to deal with. We can’t go to the sugar refinery until tomorrow and I don’t have it in me to deal with the purple magic tonight. I need fun downtime to regroup. We need this. Shit like this matters.”
I didn’t understand why Drio looked so uncomfortable with the idea. “Didn’t you tell me we needed balance? Come on. I will brook no dissent. We’re going to have fun and then we’ll save the world tomorrow.”
I gave them the details. I’d been waiting for a chance to put my plans for Rohan into motion, but including a double date made the night even better.
A couple hours later, I wheeled a small suitcase into the foyer and whistled. Rohan stood there in a skinny black suit with white piping along the edges of the lapels, worn over a crisp white shirt, with his sockless feet stuffed into a pair of shiny black shoes. He sported a silver thumb ring and a leather cuff, his hair gelled spiky, and his eyeliner making his gold eyes pop.
He took in the scarlet fall of my silk dress, held up by a thin ribbon around my neck, and motioned for me to turn around.
I closed my eyes, the warmth of his body behind me palpable.
He ran his hand up the inside of my thigh under the fabric, his calloused fingers reverent, but with a bite of sandpaper. The fabric rustled, slipping against my bare ass.
Rohan bit the hollow between my collarbone and neck. “You expect me to sit through dinner knowing you’re naked under this?” His finger dipped inside me, his lips ghosting my skin. “Knowing how wet you are?”
I dragged in a ragged breath.
The shrill beep of his phone receiving a text was the spell breaker I needed to step away from him. I had plans for a long night but I’d been about ten seconds away from taking what I wanted here and now and fast.
Really needed to practice the virtues of delayed gratification.
“Drio’s leaving Leo’s place now.” His gaze licked over me and he took a step back, noticing the suitcase for the first time. “Going somewhere?”
“We’re staying at a hotel tonight.”
The smile he turned on me was pure wolf. “You’re right. A night off is exactly what we need.”
He insisted on driving, and though I’d never admit it, riding in the Shelby was a rush. The leather seats molded to my ass like they were custom made, the sound system was top-notch, and the car didn’t so much drive as prowl. I rolled down the window, letting the sweet summer breeze tamp down my fevered need to a manageable simmer.
First stop was dinner at a downtown fancy steakhouse. Suited men drank tinkling highballs in a dozen shades of amber and women in cocktail dresses enjoyed good wines in a room lined with wood paneling and dangling chandeliers. The muted hum of conversation filled the restaurant over the live pianist playing jazz standards and the smell of grilled meat had me salivating in seconds flat.
We joined our friends at a private booth with leather upholstery and a high curved wooden back. Leo was beautiful in a floral vintage dress with a poufy skirt, her red hair pulled back in a bun and secur
ed with a large flower barrette. A stunning shawl in fiery reds and purples was draped over the back of the booth. This must have been the gift that Drio had brought for her from Italy. I couldn’t fault his taste.
Drio’s slim black suit was only a couple of shades lighter than the scowl on his face. He sat stiffly in his seat across from Leo, greeting us only with nods.
“Girls’ side of the table? Yay!” I slid in beside my bestie, giving her a hug. “What’s his deal?” I whispered.
“No clue. If he wasn’t so pretty, I’d never take him home again.”
I opened my menu. “Good to know you’re a sure thing.”
“Says the chick not wearing underwear.”
Drio may have been having some kind of hissy fit not wanting to sit beside Leo, but I’d seen women on the Atkins diet gaze at chocolate cake with less hunger than him drinking her in. I caught my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Oh. Shut up, Katz.
Leo was my best friend; Rohan was Drio’s. The talk should have flowed fast and furious.
Dead. Silence.
We all studied our menus way too carefully. It wasn’t until I’d surreptitiously checked Ro out for the fifth time, Drio had wrenched his eyes from his date yet again, and Leo had given her third quiet sigh, nibbling her bottom lip, that I clued in to how our collective sexual tension could power the next Mars mission but was doing sweet fuck-all for scintillating conversation.
“Would you care for something to drink?” our waiter asked.
“Wine,” we all chorused.
The waiter smiled. “That type of day?” He recommended a Malbec. “I’ll bring it for you right away.”
“That was pathetic.” I wiped away tears of laughter and rubbed my finger. “My mascara is smudging.”
“Waterproof. I keep telling you. It’s an amazing cosmetic technology.” Leo stood up and smoothed her skirt down. “Come on, we’ll go fix it.”
Drio shot her a wry look. “That’s code for they want to talk about us in private.”
Leo planted her hands on her hips and arched an eyebrow saucily. “Anything we could possibly say about you, Ricci, could be said before we left this table. There’s just not that much there,” she said.
Drio put his hand to his heart and fell back, mock wounded, a smile so sweet on his face, that I checked for cameras to see if I was being pranked.
Rohan wore the same gobsmacked expression that my face had frozen in. Drio shot me the finger, but when he turned to Ro, he shifted in his seat, his eyes dropping to his lap.
“Oh. No, man.” Ro clapped him on the shoulder, without a word. Some unspoken message passed between them, some permission granted, then Drio nodded and relaxed, smiling at Leo again.
Leo looked as lost in this little exchange as I was, though she also preened under his attention.
“Snap out of it,” I hissed as we scootched sideways through the tightly packed tables.
Smirking, Leo skipped her way into the restroom.
“How serious is this?” I said.
Leo wagged a finger at me. “Uh-uh. I can see the hearts and flowers dancing around your head. Not all of us are you and Le Mitra. Or want to be. Boy toy. That’s it.”
“That’s fine.” Better than fine, because Leo had a small chance in hell of keeping her demon secret if the two of them stayed casual.
She uncapped her lipstick. “I don’t think I’ll sleep with him tonight.”
I blotted my smudged mascara with a paper towel. “I can see that. Those piercing green eyes, that olive skin against his blond hair, that hard body. Meh.”
Leo paused to glare at me in the mirror. I grinned. “I didn’t say I didn’t like him or want him,” she said. “I’m not dead. I said I wasn’t going to sleep with him tonight. You made Rohan work for it.” She gasped theatrically, covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide. “Oops. Sorry. Wrong friend.” She smirked. “You rolled over like a cat in heat.”
I threatened her with my mascara wand. “Piss me off and your friend base goes into negative numbers.”
“I have plenty of friends. Drio is my friend.”
“Drio may be many things, kitten, but friend?” I screwed up my face.
“Harry.”
“Harry is your boss and mentor. Different dynamic. I’m it.” I puckered up. “Give me some sugar.”
She twisted her lipstick into the tube, popped the cap on, and dropped it into her small clutch. “Drio has a masochistic streak. I make him work for it, things go very nicely for me.”
“Gross.”
She snapped her fingers. “Kane is my friend. Kane who tells me all sorts of TMI things.”
“You’re a pervy voyeur and you’re not allowed to gossip about me.”
“Pfft. Whatever. You’re a raging exhibitionist.”
“True.” I dropped my mascara back in my clutch, then checked the stalls to make sure we were alone. “Get this. I’m a witch, not Rasha.”
“Reaaaaallly? That ought to liven things up. Can you give me bigger boobs?”
I grimaced, remembering the frog fiasco. “No. There’s more. I met Lilith.”
“You met Sarah McLachlan?”
“Why would I have met Sarah McLachlan?” I scrunched up my hair, plumping my curls.
“You met Lilith. Lilith Fair? Sarah founded it and she lives here in Vancouver.”
“Garden of Eden Lilith.”
Leo tugged up her sweetheart neckline. “Oh.”
“Meeting the person out of the Old Testament is less exciting?”
“Those SPCA videos Sarah does?” She sighed and patted her heart.
I shook my head and headed for the door. “Why do I bother?”
“You gonna give me more details later?”
“D’uh.” And with a wink, I left the bathroom.
Ro and Drio were almost finished their first glasses of wine. Drio had switched seats to be across the table from Rohan.
“What’d we miss?” asked Leo brightly.
“Me.” Drio stretched his arm out along the top of the booth.
Leo dropped into Rohan’s lap, curling a finger into his hair. “Not so much.”
Rohan wrapped his arms around her, mugging at me.
“Bella.” Drio’s purr rumbled through me, so Leo, as its intended target, was probably creaming herself.
On my boyfriend. Ew.
I jerked a thumb at her. “Off.”
Then I sort of got distracted by Drio shrugging out of his jacket, revealing a tight black shirt that was kind of shiny and somewhat see-through, but not in a cheesy way. I swallowed, mesmerized by his intensity as he tipped his head to watch Leo from under his fringe of lashes, before flicking his hair out of his eyes with strong fingers.
“Ahem.” Rohan tugged me down beside him.
I hadn’t even noticed Leo vacate his lap and plant herself at Drio’s side. He tilted his head down to murmur something to her. Leo blushed, caught herself, and said something back to make him laugh.
“You really want to remind me he’s your type?” Ro said.
“You’re my only type.” I patted Ro’s abs absently, my eyes locked on Drio’s physique.
“At least look at me when you’re being patronizing, Sparky. Put some effort into selling the lie.”
“His shirt is just so shiny.” I tilted my head, all the better to see the light catch the translucent fabric, and the teasing glimpse of olive skin stretched taut over sculpted abs.
Ro clapped a hand over my eyes.
“Looking is allowed,” I said.
“Is it? I’ll remember that.” He removed his hand.
A flare of jealousy for this wholly fictitious girl spiked through me. I tore my eyes from Drio and hooked my fingers in Ro’s belt loops. “Try it and I’ll gut you like a fish.”
His answering smile was a tad smug.
The waiter carried over a tray laden with plates.
“You ordered for us?” Leo said.
“Appetizers.” Drio rearranged the wi
ne glasses to make room for the crab cakes, beef carpaccio, seared scallops, and oysters.
“Is there anything you guys didn’t order?” I said.
“We figured we needed energy.” Rohan threw me an exaggerated wink.
“Less so with every passing second,” Leo chirped, but she speared a scallop and held it out for Drio to eat off her fork.
I kicked her under the table because the expression on her face was pure infatuation.
“Ma che cazzo!” Drio kicked me back. “Did you just kick me?”
Leo, who’d just eaten her own scallop, began choking with laughter, then actually choking. Hurriedly she downed a glass of water.
“Don’t think so,” I said.
Rohan held a paper-thin piece of carpaccio out for me, his eyes twinkling. “Oh, how she lies.”
I ate the beef, pleasantly surprised by the tangy, citrus reduction drizzled on it, then held up my glass of Malbec. “Eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we die.”
Drio dropped his napkin and swore. Leo’s fork clanged against the china plate. I could swear that even the restaurant dimmed, conversations petering out around us as the candles fluttered nervously.
“Lovely, Nee.” Leo topped me up. “Only happy drunk girl allowed tonight.”
“Sorry. The saying just popped into my head. And well, let’s face it, we don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. We never know.” I raised my glass in cheers. “I know it’s sappy, but there’s no one else I’d rather be with.”
Drio was the first to clink his glass to mine.
Rohan took my hand. “We’re gonna make it.” I didn’t know if he meant us personally or the general us versus them, but either way, I agreed.
Drio slurped an oyster. “Let me tell you about the time I had to track a lunatic troll from Oslo to Rome.” Soon he’d swept the somber mood away with his witty tale. I never thought I’d hear about Drio in a fur coat disrupting a Vatican tour by climbing out of a sewer, but here we were.
“He’s being charming,” I whispered to Rohan. “Should I be scared?”
Ro looked relieved. “No. This is what he’s really like.”
The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Collection: Books 1-6: A Complete Paranormal Romantic Comedy Series Page 106
