The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Collection: Books 1-3 (Nava Katz Box Set)

by Deborah Wilde

  A bright line of blood swelled on my skin.

  Rabbi Abrams inhaled sharply. Every muscle in Rohan’s body was tense. Kane had half-risen off of the sofa, perched on the arm.

  I slashed another line perpendicular to the first. “Met.” The word for death. The second slash burned a million times worse. I pressed my bloody palm to Ari’s heart. “Rasha!”

  Ari’s heart beat slow and steady through his shirt. The sound travelled through my palm, up along my arm, vibrating from the heavy thrum. My arm shook, his heartbeat growing in strength as mine grew weaker and more fluttery.

  There was a great sucking whoosh inside my head. White spots danced and spiraled in front of my eyes. Ari’s heartbeat was joined by a sparking noise. A clicking sound like a lighter not quite catching.

  My chest constricted. I was blinded by the white filling my vision. The clicking morphed into the explosion of a single spark, so loud it deafened, so tangible it snapped my head forward. My magic burst free wrapping my body like barbed wire. A million agonizing bites tore into my flesh.

  I couldn’t pull away. Ari’s heart pounded in my skull drowning out all other sound, throbbing through my teeth as my magic tightened around me. I smelled blood.

  The magic wire outside my body tightened and tightened; the magic knot within threatened to rip me in half as it fought its unraveling. I sagged, unable to breathe, unable to support myself. Propped up solely by the magic killing me.

  “Met.” A chorus of women’s voices chanted in my head. Death and death and death.

  The world went dark. Gelman hadn’t prepared me for this but it was beautiful. Nothingness and totality. Peace at last.

  Compelling, but it wasn’t my choice.

  “Chai,” I whispered. Life.

  My eyes snapped open. I gasped and surged to my feet from where I’d been crumpled on the floor.

  The ring flew from the box to fit itself onto Ari’s ring finger on his right hand. The silence in the room was absolute. My brother held up his hand, looking from it to me in wonder. “You did it.”

  He crushed me into his arms.

  “Told you so.” I buried my head against his chest, holding him tightly.

  Kane whooped, breaking the spell. He bounded over to us, joining in the hug.

  “Exiting now.” I ached all over and the boys’ adoration, while appreciated, hurt.

  Rabbi Abrams patted Ari on the back in congratulations. Rohan was busy welcoming my twin into the fold as well.

  “This calls for a celebration,” Kane said.

  Ari and I exchanged grins. “Balls inside,” he said.

  I picked my tallis up off the floor where it had fallen, folding it carefully. “It’s always about the balls inside with you.”

  “Is this rabbi appropriate?” Rohan asked.

  “I enjoy the balls inside myself,” Rabbi Abrams said, winking at us. I snorted. Go, Rabbi.

  Rohan’s and Kane’s double take was a thing of beauty.

  Snickering, Ari explained to the poor gobsmacked men. “St. Honoré cakes? The ones with the little cream balls on top? Our baker makes one with the balls both on top and inside, instead of just sponge cake inside.”

  “Ari requests it for every occasion.” One of the best things my parents ever did was to let Ari and I each choose our favorite cake on our joint birthday. That meant I didn’t have to give up my more-chocolate-per-square-inch extravaganza to enjoy balls inside.

  “Very delicious,” Rabbi Abrams pronounced. “Nava, may I have some water?”

  “Of course.” I escorted him to get a drink, leaving Kane taking bets on what Ari’s magic power would be.

  My parents hadn’t known about the ceremony today so the kitchen wasn’t in the pristine state my mom normally demanded for rabbi visits. A couple of dirty mugs in the sink, magazines on the counter, and the miscellaneous cork board a disaster of notes, flyers, and postcards. They were going to freak out that they’d missed Ari’s induction, and even better, since they’d believe that Rabbi Abrams ran it, I was in the clear.

  I sat down at the table with the rabbi as he drank.

  “Mazel tov. I’m very proud of you,” he said.

  “Thank you.” I debated telling him about the gogota, letting him know what the Brotherhood was up to because I’d be willing to bet he had no idea. But I didn’t. Today was about celebration. Plenty of time to fight again tomorrow.

  Placing one hand on the table, he pushed to his feet. “I’m going to speak with Ari and then update the Brotherhood.” His eyes crinkled in a smile. “So glad I correctly performed the induction with your brother in the proper frame of mind this time.” Movements slow but full of dignity, he left.

  I lay my head on the table, exhausted. All the terror I’d held in both before and during the ceremony kicked in, leaving me shaky. It wasn’t that I could have died but that I could have screwed up and hurt Ari somehow. There were so many ways this could have gone wrong, and the fact that it went right kind of overwhelmed me.

  I’d done it. Me. I’d stuck to my convictions and Ari was now Rasha. Once more on track for his destiny. I couldn’t believe that I’d be getting my brother back down the hall from me, fighting with me and I couldn’t wait to see what magic power he manifested. Like all Rasha, it would be tied to some aspect of his personality. I stood, wondering if I’d learn some deep dark secret about my twin when it did.

  “That was incredible,” Rohan said.

  “Thanks,” I mugged. I carried Rabbi Abram’s glass over to the sink. “I was pretty fucking glorious if I do say so myself.”

  That got the requisite smile as Rohan walked over to me. “Agreed.” He shifted. “Nava.” Ah man, that was the reluctant solemn tone that signaled the start of “we need to talk.” I knew I should have officially broken things off. I’d stupidly assumed he’d do the gentlemanly thing after his talk with Lily and go away so I never had to see him again.

  Bring it, Snowflake. “Yes?”

  “I’m not doing this anymore.”

  Join the club. “It was a good ride while it lasted.” What was this brutal disappointment coursing through me? We only love what we don’t fully possess. Maybe that was it. Not love, obviously, but we’d both possessed and been possessed. There was nothing left to want. We had an expiration date, and this was it.

  “A good ride,” he repeated.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Our hook-up was the ultimate in escapism. This admittedly amazing–” I decided to soften the blow to his ego because he was staring at me incredulously, “orgasmic drug I’d been using to keep myself happy in the face of my life turning upside down.”

  My words hit me with the force of an epiphany. Wow. I really and truly didn’t need Rohan to help me escape my reality anymore. No matter what the future held, demons, misogynistic rabbis, I’d face it head on. Maybe it would be lonely, maybe not, but I wouldn’t be alone in the dark. I’d have me. If only all of Samson’s victims had realized the same thing about themselves. He’d never have been able to peddle his lifestyle as the only game in town, never have been able to feed off the envy and misery he inspired.

  I’d told myself a million times that it was over between Rohan and myself, but I’d been saying it for all the wrong reasons. Lily’s presence in his life was irrelevant. I’d miss it, miss him in that way, but I didn’t need him to fill some void or fear. “I don’t need this anymore.”

  “No, you don’t.” Rohan’s lips curved up in a small smile. “But this isn’t about need.”

  “Then what is it about?”

  He braced his hands on the cabinets behind me, one on either side of my head, trapping me.

  I flattened myself against the bamboo wood. No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

  He did.

  Rohan kissed me. My body stiffened with the first touch of his lips. Alarm bells clanged in my head.

  He knew the rules.

  And I knew what I did when people broke the rules: run away very fast. But I couldn’t move. Not becau
se he was forcing me, though I’d have been very happy to blame my inaction on some kind of paralytic in his lips. No, I could have easily broken off the kiss, but I was powerless to do so.

  Rohan didn’t touch any other part of me, making me focus on the sensation of his mouth on mine. He kissed me leisurely, like we had all the time in the world and not like the merest brush of his lips had lit me up like a pinball machine on full tilt.

  The kiss was uncomplicated and all the more shocking because of it.

  I tentatively relaxed, kissing him back. His hand cupping the back of my neck, Rohan kissed me like I was precious. I was a dry river bed flooded by a giddy rush. The sensation tore mercilessly through me, ripping through all my defenses leaving them broken dams.

  I leaned into him, gripping his shoulders.

  Rohan groaned, his hand on my hip, jerking me to him. He boldly thrust his tongue into my mouth, demanding complete control, tasting of candied fennel seeds and raw need.

  The kiss turned reckless, as seductively dark as it was exhilaratingly bright. It slowed and lingered before once more turning feverish. A river of whirling eddies and slow, lazy drifts.

  Rohan kissed me harder and rougher, absolutely presumptuous, his hands fisting in my hair. I pressed my palms against the small of his back, drawing him even closer. I wanted no delineation between where he stopped and I started.

  I was delirious, lost in a live-wire crackle. My blood was rocket fuel, my heart lifting off under this hot breathlessness. Nothing had ever prepared me for this kiss. It demanded everything. Gave everything.

  Rohan planted a lingering kiss beneath my jaw before pulling away. I reached out blindly for him, my fingers closing on air. Opening my eyes, I found him watching me. He didn’t give me a smug smile like I expected. In fact, he looked troubled, like maybe he’d gotten more than he expected and wished he could take it back.

  I placed my fingers against my swollen lips, my heart hammering in my ears.

  Any qualms of his vanished between one blink and the next, as with the arch of an eyebrow, Rohan tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, his arrogance back in full form. “Any questions?”

  End of Book Two

  Thank you for reading

  Dear fabulous reader,

  Thank you for giving me the gift of your time and I hope you’ve enjoyed this next chapter of Nava’s journey. These characters are definitely close to my heart (and my inability to say the loud part quiet). I promise you the rest of the series will be an equally wild ride.

  I’ve had so many people fall in love with Nava, Rohan, and the rest of the crew. It’s great hearing your thoughts, so stay in touch.

  Now, I have a favor to ask. It’s your reviews that help other readers to find my books. You, the reader, help make or break a book. So please, especially if you want more Nava and Rohan, spread the word. Leave an honest review of The Unlikeable Demon Hunter: Sting on Amazon, Goodreads, your blog, etc.

  xo

  Deborah

  Nava explains awesome Yiddish and Hebrew words used in this series.

  Bar Mitzvah (Hebrew) - A boy’s coming of age ceremony when he’s thirteen. Moving, ritualistically important and, should the right guests be invited, an excellent way to build the foundation of one’s university fund.

  Beseder (Hebrew) – Okay.

  Boker tov (Hebrew) – Good morning.

  Bubelah (Yiddish) – adding “elah” to something gives it that cute diminutive. Literally it means “little grandma” but is used as “sweetie” – generally with children. Yeah, I don’t see the logic on that one either.

  Kvetching (Yiddish) – Complaining. But like seriously and chronically getting your whine on. Hand wringing optional.

  L’chaim (Hebrew) - Literally “to life.” This is the Jewish “cheers” and really easy to slur after you’ve had a couple.

  Maspik (Hebrew) – Enough. Sounds way better growled at someone than the English equivalent.

  Mazel tov (Hebrew) – Congratulations. Can be shortened to “mazel mazel” which sounds super snarky and may leave the recipient in doubt as to how to take it.

  Mensch (Yiddish) – a person of integrity and honor. Technically it’s gender neutral, though I see it applied way more often to men. Go figure.

  Mishegoss (Yiddish) - Craziness. Senseless behavior or activity. I thought this was my grandmother’s nickname for me when I was little.

  Mitzvah (Hebrew) – A good deed. As in “Not punching Drio in the head was my mitzvah for the day.”

  Oy vey (Yiddish) – A very handy exclamation of dismay and grief conveying everything from “aw, man” to “kill me now.”

  Shalom (Hebrew) – Peace. Used for “hello” and “good-bye.”

  Sheket bevakasha (Hebrew) – Be quiet, please. A classroom/camp favorite, used to bring unruly children in line. The teacher sings “sheket” and everyone else sings “bevakasha, hey!” in response. As Pavlovian conditionings go, it’s a keeper.

  Todah rabah (Hebrew) – Thank you very much. Important to know when expressing gratitude – and scoring points – with any (grouchy) Israelis in the Brotherhood of David.

  Verklempt (Yiddish) – Choked/overcome with emotion. “I was so verklempt after disrupting Ari’s induction ceremony that I had to eat my body weight in chips to calm down.”

  Get a free download!

  If you enjoyed this book, then how about a couple of free short stories set in this world? Demons and sexytimes, galore!

  There are mild spoilers in each one, so it’s best to enjoy them in the proper reading order.

  1) Slay: Rohan’s POV (Book 1.5)

  2) Crush: Drio’s POV (Book 2.5)

  Click here to claim your copies.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my dear friend, Dr. Kim Binsted, for her insights on both superpowers and physics. Any mistakes are my own.

  Tina Suraci, big hugs for your ice bar knowledge and, most especially, my first ice bar experience. There’s no one else I would rather have gone with.

  Alex Yuschik, my rock star editor, I honestly have no words. These books would be pretty pathetic without you and you have all my gratitude.

  To my family, can I tell you how lucky I am to have you? None of this means anything without you.

  Finally, thank you so much to everyone who followed me from my Tellulah Darling YA romcoms to take a chance on these new, more adult books, and those of you new readers who’ve embraced Nava, Rohan, and the gang. Thank you for promoting me and jetting these books to the top of your TBR pile to review. I am so humbled by this gift you have given me.

  This book is for all of you, especially all you fabulously mouthy, funny, brilliant women.

  About the Author

  I’m Deborah (pronounced deb-O-rah) and I write sexy, funny, urban fantasy.

  I decided at an early age to live life like it was a movie, as befitted a three-syllable girl. Mine features exotic locales, an eclectic soundtrack, and a glittering cast–except for those two guys left on the cutting room floor. Secret supernatural societies may be involved.

  They say you should write what you know, which is why I shamelessly plagiarize my life to write about witty, smart women who kick-ass, stand toe-to-toe against infuriating alphas, and execute any bad decisions in indomitable style.

  “It takes a bad girl to fight evil. Go Wilde.”

  Check out Deborah’s titles.

  @wildeauthor

  DeborahWildeAuthor

  www.deborahwilde.com

  Copyright © 2017 by Deborah Wilde.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Cover design by Damonza

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Wilde, Deborah, 1970-, author

  The unlikeable demon hunter : need / Deborah Wilde.

  (Nava Katz ; 3)

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-988681-04-7 (softcover).--ISBN 978-1-988681-05-4 (EPUB).--

  ISBN 978-1-988681-06-1 (Kindle)

  I. Title. II. Title: Need.

  PS8645.I4137U56 2017 C813'.6 C2017-901640-7

  C2017-901641-5

  1

  “I could do with a boy or a burrito.” I rubbed my belly, the silky material of the long-sleeved tunic that I wore as a mini dress sliding under my fingers. Were TV shows and book covers to be believed, I’d stake out my prey with a sleek fall of hair, clad in head-to-toe leather. Too bad my curls were allergic to flat irons and tight leather pants gave me yeast infections. Learned that the hard way.

  “In that order?” My twin brother Ari was a disembodied voice in the shadows.

  I side-stepped the run-off dripping from the broken rain spout onto the alley’s cobblestones, thinking fondly of my double-breasted, classic trench coat back inside the bar. “Depends on how good the burrito is.”

  The bar’s dented back door crashed open, releasing a spill of music, a sharp blast of chatter, and two demons glamoured up to look human.