“Often,” Ro said. “But not on this.”
Drio laughed. Aw, buddy, when was the last time I’d heard that sound from you?
I flipped the book open. It was chock full of the most over-the-top, suck-up language about Durukti’s greatness, from her ferocity of appearance to the nobility of her lineage and her exquisite love for her husband/brother Kali. Ewwww. I shoved the book back at Drio.
“Any sense of the research Dr. Markovic had been working on that he burned?” I said.
“We found a scrap with some note about Solomon’s assassins,” Rohan said. “Could have been something around that.”
“Let’s talk to Shivani,” Drio said.
“She’s a devout Hindu,” Rohan explained, “and may know where to find Durukti.”
I made a train whistle noise. “Now leaving for Hex Factor HQ.”
“Rohan, “Drio said. “Tell your girlfriend that name is the worst of her terrible ideas.”
“Tell Drio to A) shove it up his bunghole and B) tell Baruch that Ms. Clara’s suggestions are crap.”
Ro nudged Drio. “Go on. I dare you.”
Drio bared his teeth at me. “I still blame you.”
I got a warm fuzzy feeling because that was almost normal behavior for him.
We portalled to the gates of the boarding school.
A body was impaled on one of the iron spiked fence posts, his head lolling down. Sunlight winked off his hamsa ring and caught the strands of his red hair.
Grigory.
I ripped off the note that was pinned to his shirt. “‘If you’re not with us, you’re against us. Betray the Brotherhood at your peril.’”
Drio gripped the fence posts. “This is how we end.”
Before I could take my life in my hands and comfort him, Drio kicked the gate open.
“You gonna help get Grigory down?” Ro said.
“No.” Drio started up the drive.
“What is wrong with you?” I nudged Ro aside to levitate the deceased Rasha off the post and into Rohan’s arms. “How can you be so callous?”
“I’ll take him inside.” Rohan carried his murdered comrade up to the school.
Drio stopped, his shoulders a rigid line, and slowly turned around to face me. “What do you propose? We all stop and mourn? Have a little memorial service? No. We bury him and we move on. You want to beat these bastards? Strip away everything that detracts from the fight. That includes caring.”
“You cared when Hybris pretended to be Asha.”
“Yeah, and I made her stronger. Gave her more power over me. Won’t happen again.”
“It already did.” I curled my hands into fists. “She went after Leo.”
“Who is fine, and thanks to that, I discovered the demon’s kill spot. My point stands. Emotion is a weakness we can’t afford in this fight.”
“Strip away emotion and you strip away our humanity.”
“Was it humane when you took a life for a life after your mentor was murdered? Was it merely your humanity that night in the compound that drove you to unleash Lilith’s full power?” Drio said. “Your emotions have led you farther and farther down a path of destruction. You act like we’re in the revenge business, but we’re not.”
“Killing Hybris—” I began.
“Is justice.” Drio resumed walking. “She’s a dangerous demon who has to be stopped and that’s my job. She killed the woman I loved and I tried to stay out of it so it wouldn’t get me and who knows who else killed because I was hopped up on emotion. I slipped up in Dubrovnik exactly like I was afraid of. Luckily, the situation didn’t get any worse. But ultimately, I’m Rasha and this is my fight, so I’m fighting to right the wrongs.”
“Justice, vengeance, what does it matter so long as we stop the bad guys and win?”
“You don’t think Mandelbaum uses the same justifications about us? He’s trying to avenge all these perceived slights against how Jews have been treated and what the Brotherhood is due, all wrapped up in a noble bow.”
“I’m not Mandelbaum.”
“Not yet.”
I planted my hands on my hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ve brought together two groups of people who never should have been allies. They trust you and look to you for leadership.” He pointed at me. “Keep fighting like this and you’ll destroy them.”
“I won’t. I care about these people.”
“You may care, but vengeance doesn’t, and at some point, if it comes to the people you love or your endgame, the endgame will win.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Drio stopped and turned to me with the most serious expression I’d ever seen on him. “Grigory was Mandelbaum’s son.”
Chapter 19
Baruch had ripped the school’s front door off its hinges. He clutched it so hard that the wood warped and splintered. Ms. Clara was speaking softly to him about Grigory, but when she saw me, she motioned for me to use another entrance.
I asked around until I was directed to the makeshift morgue that Rohan helped Elena set up in the industrial pantry in the basement. Metal shelving racks were stacked with dry goods, toilet paper, and soaps, courtesy of Ms. Clara’s efficiency.
Ro had wrapped Grigory in a drop cloth and was carrying him into a stainless steel, walk-in freezer. Good thing we had another freezer in the kitchen upstairs. Separate kosher refrigeration for milk and meat was one thing, but food and corpses was a whole other ballgame.
“Did you know who he was?” I hovered in the doorway, rubbing my arms against the icy draft.
“Not until Baruch raged out. Ms. Clara said their relationship was kept need to know so Grigory wouldn’t get any preferential treatment.”
“We don’t have the ability to prepare him for a Jewish burial,” Elena said. She directed Rohan to place the body on the top shelf of the metal rack that lined one wall. How many more of us would fill those shelves before this was over? “Apparently he didn’t have any other family. Ms. Clara is tracking down who his next of kin would be.”
Elena emerged from the freezer and shut the heavy steel door. “I’m going to call my grandmother.”
I brushed a lock of hair out of Ro’s eyes. “Did you know him?”
“Not well.” He buried his face in my neck and sighed. “Having you here helps.”
“Same. What did I do to deserve you?” I said.
“Do you? Or I am just a very charitable dude?”
“I’m your charity case?” I did a quick scan out the door. All was quiet, so I dropped to my knees on the concrete floor, scooting under the island in the empty space usually reserved for garbage and recycling bins. Totally hidden from view.
I unzipped Ro’s jeans.
“Sparky,” he warned.
“If I’m a charity case, I have to earn my keep.” I snapped my teeth a couple of times. “Okay, I think I’ve got the hang of this.”
“Uh, no thanks, Bitey.” Ro wrestled me for control of his jeans, but I zapped his hands away and pulled out his dick.
“I take back the charity comment. My lovely wonderful girlfriend.” The corners of his eyes were strained in apprehension.
“Yeah, yeah.” I flicked my tongue to the tip of his soft cock, slowly taking him into my throat, luxuriating in the feel of him hardening.
He threaded his fingers through my hair.
“Hands on the counter, buddy.”
I swirled my tongue around the tip, licking my way down his shaft, and sucked his balls into my mouth.
They tightened and jerked upward, like he’d been shocked by a live wire.
Rohan watched the doorway, but when his gaze flicked down to me, they sparked a dangerous gold lava.
Cuntessa throbbed. I pressed my legs together, hot and aching and inhaled his musky scent. I poured my heat and lust down the shaft of his cock with my lips and tongue, my magic buzzing against his velvet hardness.
There had been a wariness to Rohan since he’d returned. He
’d had flashes of letting himself go, but this wasn’t the boyfriend who had always been one hundred percent present and open around me. Sex was one place I could always get through to him, and if that was what it took to convince him that, with me, at least, he could drop that last wall and relax all the time, I’d do it.
It was an exhausting way to live, for him and for me. We needed to be that place for each other where we could take a full, deep breath, completely at ease.
Ro snapped his hips in a furious staccato. His fingers squeezed the edge of the island counter top while his mutterings were part begging for more and part exaltations that sent electric shivers through me.
I shoved my hand down the front of my shorts, rubbing Cuntessa furiously.
“Fuuck.” Rohan grabbed my shoulders, a predatory gleam in his eyes.
“Yo, Rohan.” Footsteps pounded into the room.
“Drio.” Ro sounded calm, but behind the counter, out of view, he tried to push me off him. “What’s up?”
I deep-throated his length, holding his hips still with one hand while still getting myself off. If Drio came around the island, he’d find us. My nipples stiffened into peaks.
“Got Durukti’s location,” Drio said. “Shivani is going to portal us to India and check for wards, since Nava’s gotten so testy about transporting us.”
Still on my knees, hidden from view, I raised my middle finger.
Rohan caught my hand, putting it on his iron-hard dick, his hand over mine, stroking himself. His expression remained calm but from the waist down, he was one long line of rigidity. “Great. Be there in ten.”
“More like three. And for fuck’s sake, don’t let the witches see your cum face. It’s disturbing. Madonna Mia, the shit I have to deal with.” Drio stomped out.
I snorted my laughter.
Ro tried to disentangle himself from me. “He’s right. We can’t do this here.”
“We can do it in a park, we can do it in the dark. We can do it in a ring, we can do most anything.” Still on my knees, I widened my stance, stroking my clit, my eyes not leaving his. “But it’s your call.”
With a groan, he tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled me to him, thrusting into my mouth.
Grinning, I clamped down on his thighs with a vise-grip and gave him a virtuoso blow job, sucking him off harder and faster.
I ground my hips, my clit a sensitive bundle of nerves, and my fingers a slippery mess. Silver magic crackled off my skin, its brilliance reflected in the golden depths of his eyes.
His cock thickened. I sucked on the head and with a growl that vibrated out of him, Rohan shuddered and came hard, pushing me into my own intense orgasm with a wanton moan.
I swallowed every drop, then sat back on my calves, and daintily wiped the corner of my mouth off with my pinky.
Chest heaving, he stared down at me, wild and disheveled, then he grabbed me by the shoulders, hauled me to my feet, and gave me a bruising kiss.
Eagerly meeting his lips, I flung my arms around his neck, our tongues tangling.
“I can taste myself on you.” He bit my lower lip.
I squirmed against him, wanting him to bite me all over. “How long will you be gone?”
Rohan shrugged, a flash of resignation in his eyes. “Not sure.” He pulled off the new hoodie he’d bought that had a cool blocky graphic design on it. “Here.” He draped the sweater over my shoulders. “My blue one you always wore burned up in the fire.”
The fabric was the softest cotton. I stuffed my arms through the sleeves and rubbed my cheek against it. It already smelled like Ro, all iron and musk. I wanted to grab him and hide him away. I’d just gotten him back. What if this time, he didn’t return?
But I couldn’t and I wouldn’t. He didn’t need to be worrying about my headspace when he was off to find a demon.
I pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “Stay safe. I’ll miss you.”
He tucked a curl behind my ear. “I was wrong about the bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, then bliss. Bliss isn’t my end goal—it’s my every moment with you.”
My chest swelled with the love and promise in those words. He’d be back. The bullshit wasn’t over, but neither was the bliss. Not by a long shot. “Rohan Liam Mitra, I kinda adore you.”
He ducked his head, his lashes an inky smudge along his cheek, and a shy half-grin quirking his lips. “I kinda adore you, too.”
“I’m leaving!” Drio yelled.
Rohan caressed my cheek and left.
“Sheket!” Baruch clapped his hands together to get everyone in the auditorium to be quiet. “Interviews are concluded and we’ve got your groups. Leaders will be Rasha or witches with experience killing demons.”
Next to Baruch, Mahmud consulted a clipboard. “Any witch with fight training from their regular life is being paired with less experienced women.”
Kind of like dance captains. Let them mentor the nervous or uncertain ones.
Mahmud called out the groups and I crossed my fingers that I wasn’t stuck with Facial Piercing Witch, otherwise known as Jezebel. No, that wasn’t me being a bitch, it was her preferred name.
“Nava,” he said. “You’re with Hua, Alice, Catriona, and Isleen.”
We were one of the first groups in the training room and it became quickly apparent when I asked them to show me how they threw a punch that I hadn’t gotten the experienced witches. Hua, the Chinese woman working on the Hellgate problem was a committed pacifist who was uncomfortable with violence even toward demons, and the other three, middle-aged triplets from Ireland, just giggled.
Oy vey.
My stupid twin found my frustrations hilarious.
I took a sip from the water fountain, having called a break after forty-five minutes of pointlessness. “It’s not funny.”
“It’s a bit funny. You’re acting like a drill sergeant.” Ari glanced in the room at the four women huddled in one corner. “They look miserable.”
“I was trying to motivate them.” I snapped my ponytail tight.
“To do what? Self-medicate?”
“Go away and harass your own group.”
Telling them all the ways they could die if they didn’t commit to this training was not the way to go. I’d go with my forte—humor. Amazing how humiliating myself with the story of when my magic kicked in broke the ice. I followed it up by telling of my paralyzing fear with the half-demon that had come after me, and how if Ari hadn’t been there, I would have died.
“I’m not going to lie and say you’ll never be scared, but I want to make sure you never freeze up. Demon hunting is your new reality. Will you help me to help you to stay alive and fight another day?”
It worked. Even Hua agreed to follow the training regime that Baruch had detailed for us.
Training had gotten off to a clunky start, but when we found our footing? We were unstoppable.
About a week after my group had gotten onboard, Catalina came breathlessly running up to me, her hair flying free from its usual neat bun.
A council of eight Rasha and witches was being set up to oversee all concerns moving forward. Raquel and Baruch were appointed as the first two seats. If we could make Hex Factor work, we’d have a better shot of convincing the rest of the witch community to get involved, which, let’s face it, they’d have to do eventually. As would the other Rasha once we found where Sienna had them imprisoned. When Catalina wasn’t busy with her group, led by Cisco, she was helping Baruch and Raquel out.
“What’s up?” I said.
She pulled a piece of folded paper out of her dress and pressed it into my hand. “The purification ritual to purge Lilith’s magic from you. I figured it out.”
I unfolded the paper and read the words to be chanted. We had the magic flame and I was working on getting Satan’s blood. “What about the resin for the mikvah? Did you solve that problem?”
Catalina pulled out her elastic and, deftly rewinding her bun tight, spoke a few words.
“You’ve got to be ki
dding.”
The cavernous room hewn into the base of the Mule Mountains in southern Arizona dripped with condensation, infusing the air with a fetid vegetative rot. Row upon row of demons slumbered in the shadows. The demons were dead-ringers for the Grinch, green, fuzzy and standing on two legs, except they had curved scorpion tails. Muted sun slashed the space, all hard edges, creating a path barely wide enough for someone to navigate sideways through the sleeping spawn.
Making sure no part of me touched the shadows, which would instantly wake the scorpion demons, I crossed the room, sucking in my gut at a particularly narrow part of the sunlit path. A demon’s skinny frame was an inch from my nose, his sleeping face trapped in a sly smile, and his segmented tail curving up behind him.
The hunger of these unnatural beings rolled off them. They pulsed with the desire to feed and kill, a tangible yearning that I had to navigate as much as the shadows. These demons gathered here twice a year, extracting copper from the mountain range and synthesizing it to produce their venom. They would then fan out over other remote mountainous regions and find unwitting human prey.
The easy thing would have been to kill all of them except the leader, who produced the most concentrated venom which would form the basis of the resin to seal the mikvah bath, but easy was not in the cards. The damn creatures were all linked like those root systems of weeds that grew in between sidewalk tiles, and if I took out the hordes, the leader would die and I’d be out of luck.
I may have been super powerful, but these fuckers were terrifying on a deep, primal level and there were hundreds of them jammed in here with me. Every tiptoed footfall sounded like a sledgehammer in this eerie silence, my senses heightened with the forbidding weirdness of being the only one awake, knowing that if I disturbed them, hundreds of eyes would snap open and rush me.
I touched my lighter talisman for luck.
Slowly, torturously, I pressed forward, despite the fact that my head throbbed so badly I’d have drilled a hole in my skull for relief. I had a slew of extremely capable magic people whom I could have asked for help, but I wasn’t yet ready or able to make myself vulnerable while someone had access to my mind. These headaches were a weakness I couldn’t afford, not with everything I faced and I’d have to seek assistance. Soon. When the thought didn’t make me break out in a cold sweat, swamped by the memory of not knowing what was real.
The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Collection: Books 1-6: A Complete Paranormal Romantic Comedy Series Page 166
