I grabbed the broken spear. One good tight grip and a little magic elbow grease and my current heated the broken tip until it glowed white hot. “Hold him, boys.”
They pinned the hoc to the floor and I jammed the tip in a fraction of an inch away from the kill spot in his stomach. His flesh seared like a good steak, though the smell was more fetid flesh than delicious BBQ. I kept up the heat and soon he was bubbling, charred human hair falling to the ground.
The demon mewled.
I crouched down so I was eye level with him. “This is a new trick for me, and I’m happy to spend the next three hours practicing increasing the heat on all the parts of your body. Or you can answer our questions and I’ll put you out of your misery. Where’s your mate and how did you capture the oshk?”
The demon lasted another fifteen minutes before he cracked and admitted that he’d trapped this oshk after it had eaten his mate. There were no other Sweet Tooth production centers. It was kind of hard to understand him because half of his head was a ruined, blackened mess, but we got the gist.
I drove my fist into his gut, firing my magic through my gloves into his kill spot. There may have been justice for Naomi and Jake and that poor couple, but there was no satisfaction. Soon as he’d disappeared, dead, I tore off my protective head gear and fired it at the wall, snarling at the single whisker left of the demon, beyond done with this entire mission.
“You brutalized him.” Drio nodded approvingly, pouring the beaker of oshk secretions into a patch of weeds just outside the back door. He and Sienna would get along beautifully.
Rohan unplugged the still and the humming quieted. He found a dented cardboard box and packed the still and tubing into it.
I stood up and unscrewed the vise. The oshk flopped over in her chains, her smaller head blob jiggling. Her flesh overhung the side of the chair like a slime toy. “What do we do with her? The matryoshka doesn’t hurt humans. She eats other demons. Isn’t that something we want to leave alive?”
Drio flicked something squishy off his suit and pushed up his face mask, cheeks ruddy. Being in these suits was like being roasted alive. “Kill her.”
“She suffered.”
“Demons are never victims.” Drio looked around the room for anything we’d missed. “We kill them. It’s what we stand for.”
“The only good demon is a dead demon, I know.” But there were exceptions to every rule and he was currently sleeping with one of them.
“Drio’s right.” Ro remained fully outfitted from head-to-toe.
Drio shook his head, as if that was obvious, picked up the box of drug-making paraphernalia, dumped his helmet on top, and carried it all out to my car.
“How can you say that?” I demanded. “What about Leo?”
Ro squatted down, working on the locks imprisoning the oshk. “I make an exception for her.”
“How magnanimous.”
“Yeah, it is.” The chains binding the oshk to the chair fell to the floor with a clang. “If I had my way, Malik wouldn’t be around anymore either. I appreciate he has his uses, for now. You’ve taught me the value of squeezing every drop of assistance out of demons I can before killing them.”
“That’s not at all–Argh.” I threw up my hands.
“Nava, things may not be black and white, but there’s still right and wrong.” Rohan kicked the chains aside, catching the oshk before she fell over.
“Why is it still alive?” Drio was back.
“We’re discussing what to do with her.” I picked up the chains.
“What’s to discuss? It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t gun for humans, her secretions can harm us, and she has to die,” Drio said. “It’s not open to debate.”
“The basic element of right?” Ro said. “Don’t fuck people over.”
“This isn’t about the Brotherhood,” I said.
“Demons, Brotherhood, it doesn’t matter,” Drio said. “Listen to your boyfriend.”
“Bite me.”
“It turns out we do have one more use for this one.” Ro threw the oshk over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He was fully protected by the chemical suit so I wasn’t worried about another episode. “She’s going to help us kill the rest of the matryoshka.”
Drio nodded. “That works.”
The oshk had some use as a demon-eater, but ultimately, it didn’t matter if she had to die. One day I’d kill Malik, too. No, I was incensed over Ro’s high-handed attitude about Leo. She wasn’t an exception. They’d become friends. Could he really flip on her that easily if push came to shove? Drio’s reaction didn’t surprise me, but I’d been counting on having Ro’s help in protecting Leo if things went sideways and Drio’s feelings got hurt. Now? Would Drio’s rights as a full human automatically trump hers as a half-demon? Would her human half even matter?
Driving home, ignoring the guys chatting about some Rasha that Drio had run into on his jaunt to Palm Springs, I got my anger under control. I’d promised to have Leo’s back. I glanced at my two passengers and their combined deadly force and my heart sunk. In another world where Drio didn’t hate demons and Leo didn’t have that unfortunate parentage, they would have been great together. With all that baggage? There was only one way to keep her safe: convince Leo to stop seeing Drio before she went from an exception to a statistic.
Ro and I carried the oshk from the car to the iron chair in the torture room. She remained limp and unconscious, as far as we could tell without her having eyes. I leaned into the oshk with the side of my body, keeping her upright so Ro could tape her in place with the special duct tape threaded through with iron and salt. Under my gloved hands, the demon had the blubbery consistency of Silly Putty.
Ro ran the duct tape over her raw sores to pin her torso to the chair and the oshk jerked violently against me.
Startled, magic snapped out of me like a whip. “Jeez!” I laughed, placing my hand to my chest. It had only been a spasm. The oshk was still limp, out cold.
Ro tore off his glove, reached for my ribcage, and abruptly dropped his hand before he touched me. “Does your skin feel wet?”
“Shit.” I flung off my gloves, grabbed the chemical suit and twisted the material to examine it. My magic, born of surprise and therefore, uncontrolled, had torn a hole in the suit.
There was a single glistening drop on my skin that I wiped away with the fabric.
I bit my lip. “One tiny drop. It didn’t even sink in. How much damage could it do?”
“Right.” He slung an arm over me. “Besides, I’m here to keep an eye on you. Go all crazypants and I’ll take you out.”
I bumped his hip with mine. “And to think some women only get jewelry. I get my own personal assassin.”
“Anyone can buy jewelry.” Rohan slapped his hand against the scanner to open the door and let us out into the Vault. “I’m full-service.”
“Oh yeah?” I ghosted my lips over his. “Prove it.”
He did. Three times.
It was yet another night of very little sleep, but I wasn’t complaining. In fact, when Ro woke me the next day, I bounded out of bed. Meaning, I opened my eyes on the first try and didn’t brain my boyfriend with sleeping implements.
“How you feeling this morning?” he asked.
I stretched. “Sore, but good.”
Ro crossed his arms, wearing another pair of board shorts–these a dark plaid–that rode low on his hips. “Demon-wise, Sparky. I figured when you woke me up that last time begging for it, that you were probably good.”
I was momentarily struck dumb by the dip between his hips and his abs in the strip of skin visible between his shirt and waistband. One bite of that beautiful brown skin, please and thank you. Maybe a couple of licks.
He snapped his fingers. “My eyes are up here.”
“Yeah. Not really interested in that feature right now.”
Rohan tackled me and I squealed. “Just because I’m the hottest lay you’ve ever had,” he said, “doesn’t mean you can objectify
me.”
I beat him with the pillow until he rolled off me. “One of these days,” I said, “your arrogance will outweigh your use in providing orgasms.”
“With you? Not if you had three lifetimes.”
I reached for him, fisting my hands in his shirt. Pulling him close, I kissed him. “Let’s test that theory.”
He groaned. “Drio’s waiting for me. Rabbi Abrams got us a meeting with Mischa.”
Sighing, I let him go, smoothing out the wrinkles I’d put in his shirt. “All right. Go confirm his twin is still alive.”
“What are your plans?”
“I gotta talk to Leo. Then I’ll check in with Gelman, see if she got hold of Tessa.”
I lay in bed a bit longer after hearing the front door close and the Shelby drive off. I texted Leo asking if I could come over and got a thumbs up emoji. Got my word of the day as well: indomitable. Why yes, I was, thanks.
As I hopped out of bed and grabbed my headboard, the room swung sideways, my vision blurring at the edges. I’d stood up too fast. Coffee would fix that. Hmm. Since I was going downtown to Leo’s anyways… I sent her another text and grabbed a clean towel for the shower.
If I was going to convince my bestie to dump the best sex of her life, a Belgian waffle bribe was in order.
Chapter 21
Leo stabbed her Liege-style waffle in the pool of syrup on her plate. “Was this supposed to be a bribe?”
“Think of it as an offering. Well? Ready to cut loose from the Italian Stallion?”
“For the last time, and I do mean last, I’ll take my chances.” She chowed down, oblivious to how much danger she was in.
I gripped her hand. “I don’t think you understand. He’ll find out at some point and then he’ll kill you. Very slowly and painfully, because he hates people who betray him only slightly less than he hates demons and you’re both.”
Leo tried to pry herself loose but I had to impress on her how serious this was. I tightened my hold.
“Are you insane?” she hissed. “Let go of me.” She picked up a fork, raising it over my forearm.
“Stab me. I’m not walking away until I get your promise.”
“Then you’ll shrivel and grow old here. I’m not ending things with him.” She pressed the fork into me until I released her. “The sex is phenomenal.”
“He wants to date you. This is getting serious.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. “I’m worth being serious about.”
“No shit, but that isn’t the issue. I’m sorry, Leo, and I wish I was wrong, but there is no happily-ever-after for you two. For whatever reason, he won’t be able to get past this. Please, please break up with him. It might hurt, but at least you won’t be dead.”
Leo flung her fork down. “Back. Off.” She pushed her plate away and marched out of the restaurant without a look back.
I called after her, but she ignored me. This was a disaster of epic proportions. Leo had fallen for him. Fuck.
I called for the bill. My Eggs Benny quivered uneaten on the English muffin, all of it drowned in Hollandaise sauce. Poached yellow vomit. My stomach twisted and sweat beaded my neck. I dragged myself to my car, fanning myself with the front of my shirt, wobbled into the driver’s seat, and lay my head on the steering wheel, ignoring the honks of the car wanting my parking spot.
Driving home was a bitch. I swear my brain was stuffed with cotton. I pretended I was in a video game and had to exactly follow the car in front of me, because I kept veering sideways.
What a time to get sick. How long would it take my healing to knock this flu out of my system? My entire body ached, my skin hot and itchy. I’d have taken an oshk drug freak-out over this, but the flop sweats that punctuated my drive home, while extreme, hadn’t ever been a side effect of Sweet Tooth. Plus, my generous tip back at the restaurant had been the opposite of punching the waitress and wrestling her for the maple syrup jug to drink from until I fell into a sugar coma, so this wasn’t caused by the drop of oshk secretion I’d gotten on my skin.
I blacked out briefly waiting for the scanner at the chapter house gate to identify my car and let me onto the grounds, barely managing to throw the car in park, and stagger up the front stairs into Ro’s bed, where I passed out into a restless sleep.
“Nava.” Drio shook me. “Wake up!”
Wincing, I sat up. My stomach muscles screamed in protest. “Was I doing ab curls?” Why was Ro asleep next to me? “Is it night?”
“Are you drunk? Look at him.”
Ro’s face, the one part of him not wrapped in blankets, was blue. His eyelids were closed, fluttering madly, his jaw was badly bruised, and he had an angry red scrape across his forehead. Ice crystals dotted his hair, melting and running in tiny pearl droplets down the side of his head.
My heart slammed into my throat. I burrowed my hands under his covers, frantically searching for a pulse.
Drio pulled me off. “He’s breathing.” He lay his hand on Ro’s head. “He’s breathing,” he said, quieter.
I beat on Drio’s chest, lost to the wild fury whipping through my blood. “Why didn’t you have his back?”
“Cosa?”
“That’s it, isn’t it?” I snarled. “You and him. You screwed up with him before and he got hurt.”
Drio grabbed my wrists and pushed me away. “You–” He dropped his head, almost deflating, then shook himself off and picked up one of the hand warmers that he’d thrown on the bed, kneading and cracking it to activate it. He tucked the warmer inside Ro’s blanket.
Magic flared off my skin, flinging Drio sideways. “Don’t. Touch. Him.”
I didn’t hear him leave, busy inserting the rest of the warmers in key points between Rohan’s skin and his blankets and checking every few seconds that he was still breathing. When that was done, I reswaddled him, needing something to keep busy with, to keep my choking panic at bay.
I couldn’t tell. Oh, God. I couldn’t tell if he was getting better.
I rubbed my hands together to warm them, then placed them on either side of his head. I’d made the azalea sprig bud; I could heal Ro. I visualized a bright white light emanating from my palms, burning away all other magic in his system.
My hands tingled and even though I kept it up until I shook with the strain and my vision fogged, I didn’t feel any magic pouring out of me. I grabbed the lamp on his bedside table, thrusting it close to his face to check. He was so cold. So still.
Time blurred. I changed the IV that Dr. Sousa had set up, sleeping in fits and starts between my repeated attempts to heal him, terrified I’d miss him waking up, or worse, him taking a turn for the worse.
Rabbi Abrams brought me food and water. I think I drank a bit. Food held no appeal.
Drio darkened Ro’s doorway. He was shirtless, gauze taped over some white ointment smeared on his side. “How is he?”
I gave up trying to wrestle Ro out of his shirt myself to sponge him down. “Make yourself useful and then get out.”
We stripped him. I fished in the bowl of warm water for the sponge, gently wiping away the sweat glistening on Ro’s forehead.
“You need to hear me out,” Drio said. “Ilya’s alive. Ferdinand ambushed us when we left Mischa’s.”
“Yet here you stand unscathed.”
Drio flashed up, grabbing my throat. The sponge hit the floor with a splat.
I jutted my chin up, meeting his eyes. “Try it.”
“Rohan is the last person I’d ever hurt,” he said, his expression pleading. He stepped back, raking a hand through his hair. “The fight was nothing. Barely started. Ferdinand hadn’t used his magic on us yet, but we were swarmed by shedim.”
If Gollum had gotten drunk and fucked the monster in the original Alien movie, their spawn would be the prettier version of these demons.
I wrung out the sponge, cleaning under Ro’s chin and along each arm, my fingertips lingering over his palpitating pulse.
“Ferdinand was their main target, but we
were caught in the crossfire.” Drio’s hands balled into fists. “That betraying Rasha fuck caught Ro right as one of the shedim pinned Ferdinand down. The demon sent his magic into Ferdinand, Ferdinand’s ice flowed into Ro and…” Drio glanced at the bed, then cleared his throat. “Ferdinand is dead, but that attack wasn’t random.”
He tossed a pointed leathery ear onto the bed. A purple pointed leathery ear. Shedim were burnt-orange.
I dropped the sponge in the water, wiped off my hands and reached for the ear. It had been cleanly severed. “You did the signature spell?”
“Being attacked right after learning what we had about Ilya? Ro didn’t think it was a coincidence. He’d sliced the ear off for us to test so I tested it. I want the witch behind this.”
“What will you do to her?”
“If he doesn’t pull through? It’s going to be war.” He glanced at Ro one last time and left.
Rohan was going to pull through, but Tessa had to pay for what she’d done.
I whipped out my phone. “Where is she?”
My eyes were glued to every twitch of Ro’s, constantly checking him for fever, for an improvement in color, for his continued breathing.
“Who?” Gelman said.
“Tessa. Don’t give me any bullshit about her being in Santa Barbara. She’s here. She attacked Rohan.” My voice cracked.
Gelman dragged in a breath. “Tessa’s dead.”
“Impossible.”
“Her burned body was found.”
My hand tightened on my phone. “Murdered?”
“Burned from the inside. Black magic. The Los Angeles coven was trying to keep it a secret.”
“When?”
“Nava.” Gelman sounded wrung out.
“When?” I growled.
“Last week.”
If that was true, then Tessa wouldn’t have been able to bind the shedim. But if it wasn’t Tessa, then every lead we had just came to jack shit. I hurled my burner phone at the wall with a screamed curse.
My attempts to wake Ro up yielded nothing and more nothing. I kept at it until I was lightheaded and my whole body ached. Every breath was energy I resented expending on myself.
The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Collection: Books 1-6: A Complete Paranormal Romantic Comedy Series Page 110
