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

by Deborah Wilde

  I lunged for him, but Speedy Gonzales flashed out. He reappeared on my right, the knife back at Leo’s throat, digging into her flushed skin. Blood beaded at the tip.

  Leo grew even paler, if that was possible.

  I stopped, my hands up, tasting the metal cold of fear.

  “You’re very up-to-date,” the rabbi said.

  “I want Hybris,” Drio said. “She killed Asha.”

  “You don’t deserve to kill Hybris, you bast—”

  Drio backhanded me with a slap that made my teeth rattle.

  “How did you know Nava was alive?” the rabbi said.

  Drio’s expression grew tight, his skin stretched into a snarl. “She’s like a cockroach. Hard to kill no matter how many times you try and stamp her out.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. Much as I hated myself for caring about his opinion, I hated him more because I hadn’t done anything bad. My actions helped Drio find someone he could have feelings for again. Drio hadn’t told me about Asha back then, but even if he had Leo wasn’t Hybris. She was half-human and all wonderful. I hadn’t tried to trick him. I’d tried to make him happy.

  I ripped Leo from his hold. Before I could do much more, I was stabbed in the neck with another syringe and the world fell away.

  I came to in the damp room, once more strapped down to that damn metal table. I could barely swallow, rage choking me.

  Leo was chained to the wall in heavy iron handcuffs. Her shoulders rode up by her ears, and her face was twisted in a grimace.

  I blanketed myself in a dispassionate calm. Leo and I were going to be those two old ladies who drank gin in the afternoon and went on crazy adventures, so dying now was not going to happen. I cautiously scanned the room, but reality remained solid with no hallucinations. They hadn’t given me another dose of the magic-suppressing drugs. Yet.

  The Rasha that I’d incapacitated stood next to me, holding a switchblade. He was paler than I’d last seen him, with deep purple rings around his now-haunted eyes. “I was too easy on you before.”

  “How’d you like the Tomb? Fun, huh?” I dug deep, past my tight ribcage, desperate for any spark of magic. There was a flutter low in my belly, barely anything. I coaxed it carefully to life, feeling like my organs were being knocked around like bowling pins.

  “Which was your favorite?” I said. “The darkness that sponged up your soul or the loss of your magic gnawing at you, taunting like a phantom limb? Personally, I dug the limb thing, but the darkness really grew on me.”

  The rabbi stayed the Rasha’s hand, squeezing his wrist until the knife clattered to the floor. “Drio and I have come to an arrangement.”

  “Yeah? Who gets to top?” I said.

  Drio crossed his arms, his expression granite. There was no trace of my former friend in the man standing before me.

  Twice I lost my grip on the flutter of magic, refusing to cave to despair. Finally, my efforts were rewarded. A thread of the silver magic emblematic of Lilith’s and my combined state danced under my skin.

  Now to find the best moment to strike.

  “Either you give me some useful information about the ring, or Drio will kill your…” The rabbi’s lip curled in a sneer. “Pet.”

  I met his eyes with deadly intent. “I don’t know what your hard-on for this ring is, but if you touch a single hair of Leo’s, I will make it my life’s mission to carve you to pieces slowly.”

  “Stop your barking, puppy. You won’t let her be hurt.” Mandelbaum marched out of the room.

  Oh, he did not just compare me to a dog. I was going to rip off his balls and feed them to him.

  The Rasha jerked his chin at his assorted evil instruments, practically rubbing his hands in glee at getting to hurt me. “How do you want to play this?”

  “Give me five minutes alone with her,” Drio said.

  That suited me just fine.

  “I want my turn first.” The Rasha glared at me.

  Drio gave an insolent shrug. “You had your turn. You fucked up.”

  “So, you come in swinging your dick around? The exalted demon killer? Big deal. All of us kill them. I get answers.”

  “Except you didn’t, paesano, did you?” Drio’s voice was a silky menace. “Now it’s my turn. She let the demon get away that killed my girlfriend, then tricked me into fucking that…” He turned from Leo like he couldn’t bear to look at her. “Scum. She’s mine.”

  Leo raised her head, hurt and anger flashing in her eyes.

  I coaxed the magic from a thread to a current. It hummed in my veins, like a cat brushing up against its owner demanding affection. It was more than I’d possessed originally, but nowhere close to the strength I’d experienced when I’d freed Lilith from her imprisonment inside me at the compound.

  Then again, that much magic had killed me.

  Blasting the straps off, I fired both Rasha into the opposite wall, hard enough to crack the concrete.

  But instead of ganging up on me, Drio tackled the other Rasha, leaving me gaping idiotically.

  “Nee.” Leo rattled the cuffs, still looking shaky. “My pocket. Get the key.”

  The Rasha threw Drio. I yelped and ducked under the table as Drio crashed into it, rolled onto the ground, then dove back on top of the hunter.

  I raced over to Leo and rooted around in her pocket until I found the tiny key, then quickly uncuffed her.

  Leo gave a full-body exhale and tossed the cuffs into the corner farthest from her.

  Drio shouldered the Rasha into the Tomb, and muscled the door shut. “Now—”

  I jammed the knife that I’d picked up off the floor a hair’s breadth away from his dick. “You hurt Leo.”

  Drio tensed, practically flattening himself against the wall.

  “Can you flash out before I stab you? One whisper of wind and your Italian Stallion days are over.”

  “Pony club,” Leo muttered.

  Drio snarled at both of us, careful to keep his pelvis tipped away from the blade. “It’s make-up. Leonie, tell her.”

  Leo’s lip quivered. “He was horrible.”

  I pressed the blade harder against the crotch of his jeans.

  “Leo,” he snapped.

  “Fine.” She tapped a finger against the bruise on her face. “It’s make-up. Asshole.”

  “Idiota. I’m here to rescue you.”

  I glanced at Leo, who nodded.

  “Correction: we’re here to rescue you,” she said. “Double asshole.”

  Dropping the knife, I shoved Drio hard. “I was saving myself, thank you very much. Until you barged in and bungled it. And did you really have to lock Leo up with iron cuffs, you dick?”

  Leo stomped on his foot. “Especially since the plan was for metal ones.”

  Drio winced. “Mandelbaum wouldn’t have believed anything else.”

  “You could have warned me,” she said.

  “Genuine reaction sells the moment.” He waved his hand at us in some kind of vague Italian threat. “Stop chattering. We have to get out of here.”

  “Thank you for the mansplanation, but this ‘we’ only includes me and Leo for now. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you? Leo doesn’t like you, and I’m sure Ro can find another best friend.”

  Drio shot Leo a worried look.

  “You know something about Ro?”

  “No.” Drio flashed past me, but I was closer to the door and I flung myself backward at it, catching him in the doorframe.

  Swearing, he flickered in.

  I twisted his collar. “What’s happened to Rohan?”

  In all the time I’d been here, I hadn’t allowed myself to think of a worst-case scenario. Not that there was a best case when someone had been hit with dark magic. Just… not worst. Dark magic had killed Tessa. Literally burned her up from the inside, and granted Rohan wasn’t a habitual user of the dark arts, but he hadn’t built up any tolerance to it either.

  Leo tried to pull me away.

  “Tell me.” My
voice was just shy of a shriek. “Is he dead?”

  “No! I don’t think. No,” Drio said more quietly. “Raquel rescued him from the compound to heal the dark magic, but it’s still fucked up and he’s disappeared. I thought bringing your body back would draw him out.”

  A rush of relief hit me that Raquel was okay. I clung to that feeling like a life raft.

  “Luckily, an alive me is even better than my corpse,” I said, the laugh coming out oddly strangled. “We’ll go to Ro’s place and I’ll do a location spell.”

  “Va bene.”

  “Brace yourselves.” I took each of them by the arm and got the hell out.

  We landed in Rohan’s backyard, which he hadn’t gotten around to landscaping yet. It was nothing more than patchy scrub and weeds choking a gently sloping hill.

  The thrum of magic under my skin once more was both exhausting and exhilarating, while the simple act of portalling felt like a workout that left me stiff and sore but deeply satisfied. The feeling of freedom was even better, even if it was coupled with my dread that something was wrong with Rohan.

  I shielded my eyes with one hand, my eyeballs sizzling like a well-done steak, having not seen sunlight in a while. The heat was a physical force pushing down on me, burning my lungs with each inhale.

  The property was deserted, the windows and doors locked up tight. The last time I’d been here, the house had been full of laughter and camaraderie. And love. There had been so much of that. Now, it had a lonely, deserted air to it that no amount of sunshine could banish.

  Drio unlocked the door.

  I hesitated on the front stoop. If I didn’t go in, I couldn’t prove that Ro wasn’t there.

  Leo put an arm around my shoulders. “I’m right here for you.”

  Nodding, I stepped inside with a determined stride. “Let’s hit his bedroom and find something personal for the spell.”

  The house smelled like him, that combination of iron and musk a punch to my heart. I narrowed my eyes to slits as if that could block out the memories assaulting me. The first time he’d brought me here on the night of our fake engagement when he’d shown me the tap studio he’d installed for me. That same night that we’d both forgiven each other for all the hurt we’d caused, and in our fragile new state, he’d confessed that he’d never made love to anyone in his bed.

  That he hadn’t wanted to until me.

  The closer we got to his bedroom, the more I slowed down, until I stopped dead.

  “Nee?”

  “Give me a minute.” I was running on fumes, my nerves sharpened to daggers, dipped in the memory of Rohan screaming in torment while engulfed in dark magic.

  “Wait here.” Drio flash-stepped past me into the room.

  “I’m fine.” I started after him but he’d already returned.

  “This will work.” He held out the bracelet with the Om that Lily had given Rohan.

  I laughed bitterly and walked back into the living room. “Trying to tell me something?”

  He placed the bracelet in my hand, folding my fingers over it. “I’m not being a dick. He’s had this for a long time. It means a lot to him.”

  He was right and the bracelet should have worked to determine Ro’s location, but I got nothing except the sensation of dead air. I tried and tried, clutching the bracelet so hard that my fingers turned white.

  Leo finally pried the bracelet out of my hands. “He was hit by dark magic. You don’t know how that screwed things up in terms of trying to find him.”

  “Sure. Leo, can I borrow your phone?”

  “He won’t answer,” Drio said.

  “Seriously?” Leo said.

  “I’ve left him fifty messages. He’s my best friend. He wouldn’t—” Flushed, he stomped out onto the balcony.

  The balcony where laughing and breathless in a crazy storm, Rohan had vowed that he’d always come back to me. And he would. He had to, and I had to keep believing that, putting my faith in that promise.

  But what good was that promise when here I was and Rohan was nowhere to be found?

  Leo handed me her cell. “Hey, you doing okay?”

  I nodded and gave her a thumbs-up, unable to find my voice.

  “I’m going to wash off this make-up. Let me know if you need anything.”

  I turned the phone over and over, then steeled myself and called him.

  My fear of finding out that Rohan’s phone was no longer in service was held in check by my steely refusal to be denied holding his calloused hand in mine, feeling his pulse slowing as he fell asleep tangled up with me, or hearing the gravely smoke of his voice.

  His phone went straight to voicemail. “It’s Rohan. Leave a message.”

  My hand curled around the device like I could capture his voice and store it in my heart.

  “Rohan Liam Mitra, you come back to me right this minute. I love you and” —I dragged in a shaky breath— “you promised you’d never leave me, that you’d always come back. Well, I need you here because I can’t do this without you. I can’t exist without you. I love you. Come back to me. Please.”

  Leo returned freshly scrubbed and in clean clothes. She took in my puzzled look. “We came here before the rescue to leave some stuff. Drio left messages for Rohan that this was our rendezvous point.”

  “Ah.” My stomach rumbled. “Could you guys go get some food?”

  It’s true that I was starving, but I needed a moment to catch my breath and figure out how everything had gone so wrong and what it would take to set it right.

  Reluctantly, they agreed. Leo gave me her phone in case Rohan called back and they left on foot to a nearby sushi joint.

  I eyed Ro’s liquor cabinet. If now wasn’t the perfect time to reacquaint myself with the joys of being blackout drunk, when was?

  Two shots of premium-brand tequila later—my boyfriend did not stint on the amenities—I was feeling slightly less pain. No longer run-over-by-a-bullet-train agony, more thrown-off-a-rocky-cliff-and-hit-every-outcropping-on-the-way-down, Homer Simpson-style.

  I inhaled the last of the trail mix that I’d found in Rohan’s cupboard. It was the healthy, tasteless kind without chocolate chips or sugary content, but at this point, food was food, and knowing Ro, it was sure to be high in protein and nutrients or some such crap. Leaning against the balcony railing, I slid Leo’s phone out of my pocket and dialed Ro’s number again.

  “The mailbox you have reached is full.”

  “Don’t retrieve your messages. See if I care.” It didn’t mean anything. People forgot to delete messages after they’d listened to them.

  The ground rumbled, like a lion shaking itself awake, before all went still. Crickets went silent and even the faraway traffic seemed to hold its breath. The air warped nauseatingly, then shredded around me with a sibilant hiss that shivered down to my toes.

  I jerked my head up, thinking—hoping—it was Rohan somehow returned to me.

  But why would the universe give me my boyfriend when it could give me a hole that had been torn into the fabric of reality? An in-between place, one unseen by normal humans, sat like an overlay over the backyard, and it was here that the whirling, dizzying rupture was visible. An ugly gash separated the soft twilight of Los Angeles from the throbbing malevolence on the other side.

  I dashed out of the house to check it out.

  About two feet high and a foot wide, the rift glistened wetly with a thick Saran Wrap-like barrier stretched across it like a low-budget hymen. Low-Budget Hymen was totally going to be the name of my band, with the first single “Use Both Fingers.”

  A pulsing line about three feet thick traversed the ground in either direction as far as the eye could see. Most of it was dark green but under the rift it was black. This was the ward line between earth and the demon realm, and the places where demons opened rifts acted like poison on it.

  Look at me being a veritable font of knowledge.

  A misshapen head slammed against the barrier, making a duck face with its warty
lips. It was ripped away by a wizened claw and a beaked demon took its place, trying to pass through.

  A flinty smile curved my lips and magic danced quicksilver over my skin. Killing was waaay better than booze.

  On a scale of one to ten, this power was a five. It would have been more like a nine or ten on my original pre-Lilith magic spectrum, though only registering about a two on the scale of her full power. A damn good baseline, nonetheless.

  I laughed, shockwave after electric shockwave rolling toward the tear. My magic felt richer and deeper, the silver dazzling like a star show. However, the barrier prevented me from killing the demon horde on the far side and the rift itself wouldn’t seal.

  I slowly cranked the magic dial inside me higher, up to a seven.

  The rift reached out for me, wanting me to feed it, its hunger insatiable. Its magic snapped into me like fish hooks gutting my inside and refusing to let go. I’d just escaped from Mandelbaum’s clutches, could I not get a break? The universe was a sadistic fuck.

  There had to be a way to free myself that wasn’t the magic equivalent of a bear eating its leg to escape a trap. Could disengaging be as simple as sealing the rift?

  I gritted my teeth, the tendons on my neck standing out, straining to repair the hole before one of the many demons birthed itself into my world. My only piece of luck was that it looked incredibly difficult for the spawn to pierce the translucent barrier. Their expressions contorted in agony, their high-pitched howls making my ears bleed as they attacked. Little wonder that demons who did cross through tended to hang around earth instead of going back and forth.

  Brute force wasn’t the way to go. I switched from a pummeling to a healing magic, the silver changing to more of a pure white light.

  The rift softened and began to deflate.

  Three humanoid demons with leathery wings and hate emanating off them like stink contorted their way through the barrier, much like beautiful butterflies emerging from their chrysalises. Except hideous and afterbirthy.

  I shrunk the rift to a speck and it winked out behind the three spawn, much to the other demons’ enraged—and abruptly cut-off-baying. The black and green ward line disappeared as well, leaving only the patchy, weed-choked lawn.