“Less human-looking.”
That too. Nose firmly plugged, I motioned for my brother to have at ’er.
“You need the field experience,” he said. “You do it. That’s an order.”
My hackles rose. “Make me.” I punched him in the arm.
Ari laughed, turning it into a cough at my scowl. “Oh. You were serious.”
“Skeerred?” I clucked at him.
He made a pffft sound and strode over to a stretch of grass. “Standard terms?”
These terms had been set when we were seven years old and our dad, tired of our complaining, had said that if we were going to fight then we had to establish rules and abide by them. Standard terms meant hits to Ari’s crotch and my face were off-limits, otherwise it was anything goes. At some point, we’d decided that there should be some kind of spoils of war to the winner.
“Standard terms,” I agreed. “When I win, in addition to you checking the dead dude, you drop the commanding officer bullshit and treat me as your equal partner.”
“Agreed. And when I win, you admit that I am the superior Rasha while you search Reuben.”
I ground my teeth hard enough to take a layer of enamel off. “Agreed.”
We crouched down facing each other. “One, two, three, four,” we chanted, “I declare a twin war.”
The words weren’t even out of our mouths before we both let our magic fly.
Our epic battle lasted all of three seconds. I knew that my brother would use his shadow magic to swipe my feet out from under me because knocking me flat so he could sit on me and pummel me was his favorite move.
Except he knew that my favorite fight tactic was throwing something into his eyes to blind him and get the jump on him.
So in a brilliant bit of reverse expectations, he wrapped his shadows around my eyes like aviator shades, blinding me, while I blasted his feet out from under him, pinning him to the ground.
“Say uncle,” I said, trying to pull the shadows off. Yeah, that’s not a thing. I spun too far and whacked my kneecap on the corner of a tombstone, resulting in a two minute run of my favorite curse word.
“You,” he said.
I could smell my magic singeing the hairs on his arms and legs, while the pressure on my eyeballs was growing to splat proportions. We released each other, panting in our respective corners. Then we attacked.
In the exact same way.
Three more times.
“I hit you first.” I lay on my back, probing the puffy, bruised skin around my eyes.
“Dream on.” Ari beat his smoldering arm into the pile of dirt we’d excavated. “We’ll do this together.”
I got to my feet and shuffled to the edge of the pit, a wary eye on Ari.
“One, two,” he said.
On three, each of us whacked the other person into the open grave.
“Aaaaahhh! I touched rotted corpse!” I squealed, hopping up and down and wiping my hand on my brother’s back.
He flinched, hip checking the coffin, and rocking the corpse onto his side.
We gagged at the fresh wave of putrescence unleashed at the movement. But it jiggled Reuben’s foot out of the coffin. There on the bottom of one heel was the drawn-on remains of the Arabic word for love.
“Mara, Jane Doe, and Reuben. That’s three,” Ari said. “I’m calling it an official link.”
“Works for me.”
Any lasting animosity between us was put aside in our mutual desire to close Reuben up and rebury him as quickly as possible. We patted down the last of the earth just as the moon disappeared behind the clouds, letting us know it was time to leave.
Pity that the ghoul who jumped us hadn’t gotten the memo.
13
Pale with catlike features, the ghoul bared his fangs, hissing with a forked tongue that brushed my cheek as the demon caught me around the neck. I jabbed my shovel backward at his head. He plucked the shovel from my hands before I made contact and tossed it to the ground.
When shovels didn’t work, go with plan B. A wave of electricity rolled off my body. That dislodged the bloodsucking fiend.
Ari wrenched me into the shadows with him, backing us up against the cemetery fence. He wove the darkness up to bob in front of us like a living shield.
I peered through the gloom at the ghoul, batting at the shadows with his elongated claws like a cat with a toy. “That’s not a thing,” I told him.
“Smooth as a baby’s bottom,” Ari observed of the demon’s naked, humanoid form. “Even his balls are wrinkle free. It’s like he got a full-body Botox.”
With a satisfied shriek, the ghoul tore through Ari’s shadows, claws out.
There may have been one of him and two of us, but our resulting fight was bloody and brutal. Forty-five minutes later, two tombstones were broken, three of my ribs were cracked, and Ari’s left arm was dislocated at an awkward angle. Both of us were bleeding, which drove the ghoul into a bloodlust frenzy that sharpened his senses, yet we couldn’t get a hold on the slippery bastard with our magic.
Pain fogged my brain, slowing my reaction time. I tripped over the corner of one of the broken tombstones, my knees hitting the ground hard.
The ghoul jerked my head to the side and punctured my neck with his fangs.
My head lolled back. Oooohhhh, niiiice.
I had just enough presence of mind to remember that in seconds his blissful hold on me meant I’d let him exsanguinate me and wear a smile on my face while he did so. I snapped my elbow back in a vicious strike, breaking the demon’s nose with an audible crunch. He staggered back, then lowered his head and rushed me, breaking mine in payback.
“Owwww!” My blood spurted through the air, splattering on Ari like a Rorschach test. Hissing sharply, Ari jerked his hand to his own nose. Twin thing.
I wheezed through the rivers of agony bubbling along my shattered cartilage. That area had still been tender from our earlier twin war. Now? My entire face was a tight throbbing mass. Blue and white spots danced through my watery vision, my magic pulsing and crackling in starts and fits.
The ghoul backed away from me, taking a bite out of Ari’s dislocated arm. We both howled. I swore blood ran hot over my arm and down my wrist and it took a second for my brain to realize only Ari had been hurt. Still, I gagged as the demon chewed and swallowed my brother’s flesh.
Using our last reserves, the two of us managed to wrestle him to the ground and pin him there long enough to send Ari’s shadow magic to the ghoul’s kill spot, conveniently located inside his mouth. Yeah, universe, put the cannibalistic bloodsucker’s weak spot inside him.
I kicked the single fang left of him when he died through a hole in the fence, then we limped back to the car.
An acrid burning smell redolent of a match when you’ve just blown it out lingered in the air. This wasn’t a hint of sulfur crossed with a soupçon of burning wood. More like a freaking quarry of the chemical shit hitting a blazing forest.
The back of my throat burned and my eyes watered.
I opened the trunk and unzipped the first aid kit that Dad had provided us with, wrapping Ari’s arm with a tensor bandage like a tourniquet to staunch the bleeding. The ghoul’s teeth marks were ragged gashes against his skin.
Using a package of baby wipes, I wiped the blood off me as best I could, yelping against the dozen little antiseptic stings.
I had no idea what had happened to our shovels, nor did I care. Whoever unlocked the gates could blame the same vandals they’d deem responsible for the broken tombstones. The damage would cover up any evidence of our gravedigging.
Despite my nose being four sizes too large, I had to drive because Ari’s arm was shot to hell.
“What the fuck?” I panted. “How does the ghoul fit into this? We deliberately didn’t include them on our list.” Ghouls were bloodsuckers who wouldn’t leave their victim with an unblemished corpse. Or potentially any corpse if one was feeling peckish.
Ari cradled his injured arm to his chest wit
h his good hand. “They’re Arab. Beyond that, no clue.”
“That ambush wasn’t a coincidence.” Like much of this case, the pieces of the puzzle were taking their sweet time to fit together. I smacked my hand on the wheel.
My brother’s head lolled back against the seat rest, his exhale a soft pained hiss. He directed me to the home of a Rasha-approved physician to get my nose checked out in case it needed to be set. My healing abilities would fix the break but magic wasn’t exactly concerned with cosmetic appeal and I didn’t want a matching crooked nose to Rohan’s.
The doctor examined it then told me I’d been lucky. There was no displacement due to trauma. My septum was intact which meant I shouldn’t have any breathing problems and since there appeared to be no change to function or appearance, I could let my Rasha healing do its thing with no further intervention.
That was a relief. Exhausted and in pain, I pulled into Demon Club, hoping to slip inside without running into anyone. Best laid plans, right?
Rohan lay on the hood of his Shelby, staring up at the stars, earbuds in his ears, rolling the piece of curved bone between his index finger and thumb. The slight widening of his eyes was his only reaction to us. He swiped at his phone, removed the headphones and stuffed both in his pocket along with the bone fragment.
“One twin that looks like a raccoon. And one that smells like he was set on fire.” He shook his head. “Is this normal for you two?”
“Ha!” I fist pumped. “I totally won our twin war.”
“Twin war?” Rohan looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Often hard to know with Nava,” Ari said.
“True,” Rohan agreed. “She’s very confusing.”
“What you mean boys,” I said, “is, ‘Aren’t we lucky Nava provides a certain je ne sais quoi to liven up our otherwise stultifyingly dull routines?’”
“‘Je ne sais quoi?’” Rohan said.
“That certain something? That elusive pleasing quality?” I waved my hand in a ‘get with it’ gesture. “Bilingual, Snowflake. Nevermind. Don’t tax yourself.”
“The French wasn’t the part I had trouble with.”
Ari braced a hand against the hood, his skin ghastly pale.
I pulled a package of ginger chews to combat nausea out of my pocket, and dropped one into the palm he’d outstretched without looking at me.
“Can I have one?” Rohan asked.
Ari and I cocked our heads to the right, blinking at Rohan until we both said, “Oh, the chews.” I gave him one.
“Freaky,” Rohan said. “I hadn’t seen your twin thing before.”
“We learned to tone it down,” I said.
“Unnerved the parents,” Ari added. We both snickered.
“Can’t imagine why,” Rohan said.
I brushed my fingers over Ari’s wound. “You want help changing that?”
“I’m good.” Ari shuffled up the back stairs, blood seeping through his bandaged arm.
I made sure that he made it inside okay, then planted myself in front of Rohan. “You’re a total bastard.”
“You’ll need to be clearer with your complaints than that.”
I shoved his arm. “Witchy Witch?”
Rohan chuckled. His gold hamsa ring caught the moonlight, flashing against the deep black of his bulky sweater. “You gonna quit wasting time trying to be in charge and just admit it’s better if we’re partners on this?”
“Will you give me the books?”
“Under supervision, yes.”
I cocked my fingers at him like a gun. “Great. Partners.”
“Liar.”
Obviously. “Not at all. I need to test the spine for magic and if that means we need to be partners, I won’t fight it. Let’s get a-spellin’.”
He scooted over. “What happened to your face?”
“How quickly we forget accusing me of control issues, person who is not producing the spell books.”
“This isn’t controlling things. It’s important bonding talk between partners.”
“I stand corrected. You’re a total bastard, intractable, and full of shit.” I huffed a laugh, and sat next to him so he could get the full glory of my broken, swollen, blood-clogged nose. “Ghoul.”
“You live a full and exciting life.” He one-arm hugged me.
Disgust with myself at how badly I was drawn to his touch, his steady presence, and yeah, his concern, didn’t prevent me from cuddling into him. I was a moth to his flame. And that always worked out so well for the moth.
I craned my neck to take in the night sky. Thanks to light pollution, only a few stars twinkled overhead, but the moon cast a cool, serene glow. The deep pull of a tugboat’s horn far out in the water floated over to us. “Did you think about me this past month?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
Unable to stop myself, I nipped at his goatee, feeling his sharp inhale vibrate between our bodies. “Liar.” I leaned back against the hood, desperate to redirect the adrenaline bouncing around inside me. Desperate for his fingers biting into my shoulders as he made my body sing. “Fuck me on the Shelby.”
He looked aghast. “It’ll scratch.”
I sat up, smacking his shoulder. “It’ll scratch?”
“It’s a custom paint job.”
“Wow.” I jumped off the hood. “You lost your shot at the ultimate wet dream made real, buster.”
“Nava,” he purred. He leveled his rock fuck grin at me. The one I generally stood zero chance of withstanding.
“Forget it. The offer is rescinded.”
I breathed out, trying to regain control, an impossible feat with him standing so close and filling my vision. Plus, the pain still riding me like I was its prison bitch.
He amped the ante, standing up and shooting me a smoldering look.
“Don’t you work your sex eye voodoo on me,” I said waspishly.
Rohan nudged me back against the bumper, gently pushing my butt onto the hood. He knocked my legs aside to stand between them, one hand braced on either side of me, shutting out the rest of the world. His spicy scent washed over me in tantalizing waves. It almost neutralized the dead corpse smell still burning my nose hairs.
He slid his hands into the back pockets of my jeans and tugged me closer. “I thought about you.”
I curled my fingers into his belt loops. “Yeah? Doing what?”
That earned me a wolfish grin. He skimmed his hands up my sides.
“Tease.” I ran my hands over his muscles strung tight across his corded torso. Drank in that volcanic gaze he trained on me leaving no doubt that despite this other crap between us, this mutual need and want was so real.
“What are you going to do about it?” He nipped my fingertip hard, amping the wanton ripples cascading inside me.
“Punish you. Five minutes in the penalty box,” I said. “And by penalty box, I mean pussy.”
“Sounds like a serious infraction.” He pushed up my shirt to run his tongue over my nipple before scraping his teeth across the tip.
I shivered. There it was. That hot, delicious fire spiraling out from deep inside me. I tangled my hands in his hair. He ground his thigh against my crotch and my hips rocked in abandon. I rode a knife’s edge and I needed it to cut deep.
His hot wet mouth brushed along my ear. “Is this what you want, Nava? Rough and messy where anyone could see?”
He’d asked me that same question the first time we’d had sex and the answer had been an unequivocal yes. Had Cuntessa had her way, it would have been yes now and given the tight curl of need unfurling inside me, yes should have been my answer. It had been enough yesterday, and would have been enough now, if the feel of his lips against my skin coupled with his tender concern for my well-being hadn’t made me remember the kiss that had upended my world.
I jerked sidewise. The heat of our connection dowsed like a bucket of cold water had been tossed on it.
“What’s wrong?” Rohan asked. “Your boyfriend have a better
car?”
I flinched. Then I straightened both my shirt and my spine, and marched inside without a look back. Slamming my bedroom door, I yanked open the bedside table drawer, and pulled out Snake Clitspin, my S-shaped vibrator. No slender milk snake was my Clitspin; he had the hardy girth of a well-fed boa and I needed release more than ever.
Pushing aside my heap of unfolded laundry just enough to make room for a Nava-sized body, I lay down on top of the mattress, wriggled out of my filthy T-shirt and jeans, letting my legs fall open, and eased Snake into my underwear, teasing Cuntessa with him. My eyes shuddered closed, my desire burrowing deeper, glowing hotter.
“Nava.” Light streamed in as the door swung open.
“Shut the door!” I burrowed under the blanket.
Rohan kicked the door shut then snatched Snake from my hand.
My full body blush transformed into a deeper red. I sprung up, jumping for Snake but he held it out of reach. “Get the hell out of my bedroom.”
He waved Snake at me. “Cole not doing it for you?”
“This is about me getting off. Without you. Or is that not allowed?”
Snake buzzed away in his hand. So near and yet so far.
“Oh, it’s allowed,” he said. “In fact, I encourage it. Thinking about the look on your face when you come? Thinking about what I wish I was doing to you with my tongue?”
He licked up my neck.
A stuttery breath left my lungs.
“About what I wish I was doing to you with my fingers.” His hand ghosted up my spine, each vertebrae lighting up under his touch.
I leaned into him.
“With my cock.” Rohan rocked his hips against mine, so I could feel how hard he was.
I swallowed, my voice thick. “What are you waiting for?”
He skipped Snake up my thigh, inch by tantalizing inch. I moaned, jerking his hand up until he rubbed the vibe against my clit through my bikini briefs.
I clutched at his chest, wet and breathless.
“Ask for it.” Shadows flickered over his face, lending a dark edge to the anger in his voice. He nipped my bottom lip. “You don’t even need to use your words.”
All I had to do was close the fraction of an inch between our mouths and I’d get everything he’d promised and more. I clasped my shaking hands behind my back, unable to forget his visual reminder of what happened when I left myself open to more.
The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Collection: Books 1-3 (Nava Katz Box Set) Page 71
