Sometimes I didn’t know how I’d ended up with a best friend as cool as Leo. And not just one who was willing to come along for the fun stuff, like Grease singalongs, but one who would literally crawl through shit with me and risk her life because she believed in what I was doing.
Leo waved a hand in front of my face and flashed me a thumbs up. “Ready.”
I was pretty damn blessed.
I threw her a wink. “Then get set. And go.”
Chapter 10
In the next two minutes, my friend demonstrated an elegant agility. Over, under, at one point limboing nearly horizontal, she was a lithe wonder.
Drio could have been a very lucky man.
When she reached the fuse box on the far side, Ms. Clara and I cheered. Leo wrenched on the switch.
It didn’t move.
She threw her shoulder into it, grunting with exertion. The lasers flickered and died.
The three of us froze, straining to hear any far-off alarm, but all was silent down in the uninhabited depths.
Ms. Clara and I joined her, and stripped down to our own catsuits and caps. On our backs we each wore an empty nylon backpack. I handed Leo her pack.
“Are you certain about this, doll?” Ms. Clara asked me, planting some grenades around the room.
“Nope.” I pulled an invisibility shield around the three of us. I’d only ever successfully done it once and that was while I was totally motionless, but now I was Super Nava, boosted by Lilith’s powers.
Ms. Clara tied her whip around the three of us and we shuffled to the door, muffling our oaths when we stepped on each other’s feet.
We crept through HQ. Yitzak had given Ms. Clara the shortest route to the library, but this was the largest chapter I’d been in and it took a while.
Demon Club Vancouver was decorated like a British men’s club, the L.A. warehouse was mancave central, but this building was surprisingly tasteful. No expense had been spared. Twinkling crystal chandeliers threw prismatic light on inset panels decorated with intricate, colorful mosaics, while a living wall of lush greenery stretched up to a cathedral ceiling in a foyer. Through half-open doors, I caught glimpses of floor-to-ceiling arched windows with the Old City laid out in the soft, warming rays of dawn and even an inner courtyard with lemon trees and a marble fountain.
We came across a dozen of Sienna’s crew, flattening ourselves against the wall and praying our luck held each time. It must have been killing Mandelbaum to have his precious sanctuary in the hands of witches. The library here at Jerusalem HQ was the repository of thousands of years of knowledge about demons. If there were answers to be found about Lilith, Satan, and the Ring of Solomon, this was where we’d find them.
Sweat was tumbling between my shoulder blades and my body ached with the strain of holding this shield before we reached the heart of the building and its showpiece, the library.
“Whoa,” Leo breathed, craning her neck up.
We stood in a central passageway under an arched wood ceiling, flanked on either side by rows of hand-built wood and wrought-iron bookcases. Each bookcase was probably fifty feet wide and twenty feet high, and there were about thirty rows of them, filled to bursting with volumes of all shapes and sizes, their spines cracking with age. These weren’t the Brotherhood-published resource books that the other chapter houses were issued: these were original manuscripts.
I inhaled the scent of old paper and leather bindings. It reminded me of when Dad was on twin duty and he’d take Ari and me to the law library with him, bribing us with new coloring books and chocolate bars to keep quiet. Surrounded by these bookshelves filled with all the colored spines and dust motes floating in the air, I was transported to a sea of calm.
More witches milled about, working at one of the many long tables or browsing the shelves. They looked so boringly normal. They should have been stirring their cauldrons with warty, green fingers, which, I guess, would have meant the witches on my side should have floated around in pink bubbles. Yeah, okay, getting beyond The Wizard of Oz now.
I nudged Ms. Clara.
She pulled out her phone and punched in a code, remotely detonating the grenades we’d left behind.
The ground rumbled, books rattling and falling off the shelves.
We edged out of the way of the women pounding past us, running for the stairwell to the basement.
I dropped the shield, my body trembling, and sank into a wooden chair while Leo locked the heavy library door. If it wasn’t such a drain, I’d use it more often because no one had freaked out that Lilith was in their midst. The shield blocked her signal.
I pulled three pieces of paper out of my bra and handed one to each of my friends. “You have your assignments.”
While Sienna had disabled the Brotherhood’s database on all things demon, along with any terminals with Orwell intel on it, she hadn’t kiboshed the in-house electronic library filing system. The system only had value in how it related to the physical books that were under her control.
Ms. Clara still had access to it and we’d spent a good two hours combing through the titles in preparation for our visit. We’d divided our list into three categories: 1) the Ring of Solomon and Gog and Magog, with the Gates of Alexander as a subsection, 2) Satan, and, 3) Lilith.
We’d narrowed the list down to thirty of the most promising titles on those subjects, ten books each, which was all that our backpacks could hold.
The three of us ran through the library, gathering books as fast as we could, but despite the neat rows, they were no longer in any particular filing order. Properties of Magic was filed in with books about King David, and A Treatise on the Genetics of Sorcery was wedged between Tenants of Jewish Faith and Shacharit, Minchah, and Arvith: Three Daily Prayers.
The library door crashed open.
Mohawk Witch, the one who’d almost crippled Kane with a spear made of ice during the compound fight, bounded into the room.
Both Leo and I were in the far back corner of the library leaving Ms. Clara exposed.
Mohawk Witch and I both unleashed our magic: she went for Ms. Clara and I fired at the witch. Unfortunately, the invisibility shield had depleted me and my magic was a weak joke.
Ms. Clara rolled over a tabletop. The witch’s magic hit the bookshelf behind her, sizzling into one of the wrought iron struts running along the top. The top shelf of the bookcase listed precariously. Dropping into a crouch, Ms. Clara uncoiled her whip, snapped it around Mohawk Witch’s legs, and yanked.
The woman hit the ground on her back, her magic blasting a hole in the ceiling. Plaster rained down around her.
I grabbed Leo, portalled over to Ms. Clara, and got us all out of there.
Thirteen books. That was all we’d managed to acquire. After the gross sewage, Leo tangling with lasers, Ms. Clara almost being obliterated by Mohawk Witch, and those stupid songs that were still earworming in my brain, we’d gotten a fraction of the titles we needed. We’d never find answers at this rate.
I spread them out on the library table back at Vancouver Demon Club with a sigh.
Rohan rubbed my shoulders. “You prepared in every way you could.”
“The best laid plans… Any luck finding Hybris?”
“The other demons have stopped hunting her, but there’s no sign of where she’s holing up.”
My next question was cut short by a yawn.
“You need to sleep,” Ro said.
“No, I need to go through these books.”
He led me out of the room. “Nava, it’s 2AM. You haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in a week.”
“I’ve had crazy-ass hallucinations and blackouts, do those count? No?”
“No,” he said sternly. “Your room or mine?”
“Yours. I want the deluxe bed experience tonight. Oh.” I came to a stop. “Uh, could you get me a glass of water?”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
He looked at me oddly, but went into the kitchen.
I sprint
ed down the hall to his bedroom. Quickly, I straightened out his covers, folded his blue hoodie, and balled up the pjs I’d left there, stuffing them under his bed.
“Slept here, did you?” He lounged in the doorway with no water in sight.
“You didn’t get me water and you’re spying. Wow.”
He prowled toward me. “It’s my room.”
I scooted back, hit the bed, and fell onto my ass. “Fine. I slept here once while you were in Los Angeles.”
He cocked an eyebrow.
“Or twice. But you’d so callously abandoned me without a word of how much you missed me.” I shoved him back out of my personal space. “I revenged myself upon your bed linens.”
He wrapped an arm around me, sweeping us both onto the mattress. “Lucky bed linens.”
No, lucky me, here and now, to have him holding me. I laughed despite myself. “You’re a sick puppy.”
“You caught me, you keep me. Them’s the rules.” He nipped my lip. “I like the idea of you in my bed every night.”
He leaned in to kiss me and I yawned in his face.
Ro chuckled. “Get changed and then you can get some sleep.”
“Wait.” I yawned again. “I’m totally good to have sex. Take me.”
He gently slapped my butt. “Go.”
Yeah, no. I was pretty damn comfy. I held up my arms. “Undress me.”
“That’s the saddest proposition I’ve ever had.”
“Please. I rock your world.” I waved my arms around, making puppy dog noises.
“Not so much right now.” Ro got my clothes off while I did my best rag doll impersonation.
I snuggled under his covers and yawned again.
Ro tossed his clothes off, substituted the overhead light for the dimmer lamp on his bedside table, and crawled in with me, wrapping himself around me, skin-to-skin.
“Snowflake?” I buried my face in his chest, drinking him in, and savoring this hushed pocket of bliss. “Your bed’s better with you in it.”
He kissed my forehead. “Glad you think so.”
I fell asleep to the sound of his heart beating comfortingly against my cheek, waking up refreshed and ready to take on the world. Or find answers to far too many questions, all while staying out of the hands of my many, many enemies.
It was going to be a busy Friday.
Showering with my own bath products and clean clothes went a long way toward a positive mindset. I leaned in to the mirror to brush on some mascara, my damp curls blotting my T-shirt that read “Behold the field of f**ks I give and see that it is barren.”
Rohan was shaving and singing along with a playlist of classic rock, when “Sympathy for the Devil,” came on.
“I’m starting a list of banned songs.” I screwed my mascara shut. “Starting with that one.”
Ro tilted his head to shave under his chin. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
“After we go through the books we collected, I’m going to see Malik.”
“We’re going to see Malik. Together. The two of us. As in, you and also me. Very strongly also me.”
“Hmm. I don’t know. I think I want to see him by myself.” I winked and gyrated my hips teasingly. “He is a good kisser.”
My ears filled with a buzzing that had nothing to do with Ro’s electric razor.
Impossibly bright stars crowded a pitch-black sky. Waves lapped at the shore, the sand cool under the woven blanket. He held his naked body over mine, his eyes boring into me, seeing me, revering me.
Rain pattered on the cedar roof. Rubbing my swollen belly listening to his laughter as he poured himself wine.
“If it’s a girl, we’ll call her Mahlat,” he said.
The crowded market. Goat dung and human caterwauling. Clutching my chest to catch the grief. The same smile spent on another, seeing her, revering her in the same way he had me.
Burn.
SMACK!
I rubbed my stinging cheek.
Ro stared at me helplessly. “I’m so sorry.”
The metal faucet was melted, the sink bowl cracked. My hands were still on the tap, as if throttling it.
“You spaced out,” he said. “Your eyes rolled back, you stiffened up, and you weren’t responding.”
Forget swallowing the painkillers, I crunched them like Flintstones vitamins, since my accelerated healing abilities were duds on the debilitating headache front. I sat down on Ro’s bed, threading my hands through my hair.
“She loved him,” I said dully. “She loved him, he fathered her child, and he betrayed her.”
The mattress depressed as Ro sat down beside me. “Who?”
“Lilith and Malik.” I leaned against Rohan. “By the end, I’m not sure there was anything left of her other than that rage and I totally get why.”
“Why?”
“Think about it. If there’s any truth to the old testament, Lilith was kicked out of the Garden of Eden for not being subservient. David took advantage of her magic then kept her out of his new order. Malik… That’s its own shitshow. Lilith was a world-class witch, penalized by scared and threatened males for being a master in her field, and literally demonized for daring to be a strong, intelligent woman.”
I winged a pillow across the room. “I don’t want to be the keeper of her life. I don’t want any of her in me and I don’t want to keep wondering where she stops and I begin. Or if what I’m feeling are my emotions or hers. I have enough anger of my own. I don’t need hers.”
“What if this is the price of having any of her magic?”
“Haven’t I paid enough? Have a purpose. Be happy. Work together to keep humanity safe. I had some pretty good goals here, Snowflake.”
“You’re doing all that,” he said.
“Then why did I get her final fuck-you?” I dropped into a cartoon witch impression. “‘You broadcast as me, but you only have a fraction of my power. You will never be safe again. Mwahahaha!’”
Ro said all the right things: that he was here for me, that he loved me, that I was strong and full of light.
Blah, blah, blah. I didn’t want platitudes. I wanted Lilith in front of me so I could punch her in the throat.
“Say what you will about dark magic, it’s damn convenient when you need something big and bad enough to protect yourself with. But if I don’t rid myself of all traces of her, I’m scared this echo I’ve been feeling will grow, feeding off me until there’s nothing of me left.” I shook my head. “Safety or sanity. Is that really my choice here? Because I gotta tell you, Snowflake, it sucks.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
Was I crazy to contemplate becoming less powerful? My heart pounded at the very thought. Was I crazy not to, given the alternative?
I wasn’t alone. I had allies and more people could still join my team.
I thrust double middle fingers up in the air. “I will not be the repository of your rage, Lilith. I am Nava fucking Katz and I will purge you. Become one hundred percent organic me, baby.”
Rohan’s eyebrows drew together, and he bounced a curled knuckle against his mouth. Yes, his girlfriend sounded like a crazy person confronting a non-existent witch, but he didn’t comment. Didn’t voice any perfectly reasonable feelings of helplessness and uncertainty. He merely leaned into my side, lending his support.
My headache throbbed from my skull into my teeth with a side dish of nausea. “Bring on the enemies. I’ll face them as me because I am enough.”
I had to be. There was no other option.
Chapter 11
Ms. Clara had found three books pertaining to the ring, Gog and Magog, and the Gates of Alexander. A lot of hypothesis and speculation with no actual leads. I’d asked Leo about it, but even as plugged in as she was to demon intel, all the stuff about the gates and Gog and Magog were merely urban legends to her.
She also didn’t know what kind of demon the current Satan was, though she had explained that “Satan” was a Hebrew word meaning “adversary.” Glad that was cleare
d up. One of the four books on Satan that she’d procured had a detailed history of previous demons who had held the position of King Demon, but the record ended about a thousand years ago. Demon or human, throne-holders always had challengers. If the current Satan had successfully fought off all attempts for a thousand years? That was one powerful motherfucker.
It was also very bad news as far as Satan coming after me was concerned, but since even the boosted power I had wouldn’t be enough to defeat him, I didn’t change my mind about purging Lilith. His defeat was going to require more than a one-on-one assault. If I had all her magic, I would have been a worthy contender and this would have been an entirely different conversation.
I flipped through the six books I’d found that contained some mention of Lilith. Five were entirely useless. The final one was a slim volume called the Malleus Maleficarum, entirely in Latin, written by Henricus Institoris. Esther would have been able to help. She’d known Latin.
“Catchy title,” I said. “Does it have any useful information for getting Lilith out of me? Who do we know who speaks Latin?”
Rohan peered over my shoulder at the page I was failing to decipher. My French didn’t qualify me to translate this. “Raquel does,” he said.
Rivka might also, but I’d imposed on her as much as I was comfortable with and I missed Raquel.
“Got chummy during your convalescence, did you?” I said.
“Yup. Between the coma and destroying her safe house, we got in some good flirtation.”
“Poor girl. She’ll never recover.”
Rohan swore softly. I twisted around to see what was the matter. The dark magic was sizzling off him in fits and starts, scorching holes in his shirt. He glanced down at it with a helpless resignation, his fists tightly closed as if to trap the magic sparks shooting out through his fingers. “Better change.”
I just nodded, though I wanted to throw my arms around him and ease his frustrations and doubts that this would get better.
The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Collection: Books 1-6: A Complete Paranormal Romantic Comedy Series Page 156
