The Unlikeable Demon Hunter: Need (Nava Katz Book 3)

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The Unlikeable Demon Hunter: Need (Nava Katz Book 3) Page 7

by Deborah Wilde


  Cole nodded, keeping a wary eye on my brother. “Glad I could help.”

  “Me too. Maybe we could get together for a coffee sometime?”

  Ari tapped his foot.

  “We could. I’ll text you,” Cole said.

  Ari was already dragging me off so I shot Cole an apologetic look and a wave. My brother barely made it out the front door of the frat house before voicing his opinion. “No.”

  “You don’t get a vote.”

  He laughed. “Me and Leo are the only vote casters. Are you high?”

  “You don’t want me with Rohan. You don’t want me with Cole. Stop killing my fun.”

  “Yeah, getting tangled up with Cole is gonna be so fun. For all of us. Here’s a thought. Pick a guy you don’t have emotional baggage with.”

  “Where’s the fun in that? Now, can I tell you what I learned or not?”

  “You mean douchecanoe is good for something?”

  I laughed. “Douchecanoe is and will be good for a series of limited run somethings.”

  Ari gagged. Then brightened. “New plan. Unleash your finest self on him.”

  “That’s the idea, though why are you suddenly onboard?”

  “Thinking this through, I anticipate much amusement at his expense.”

  “Uh, okay.” I filled Ari in on the sleep clinic as we crossed campus, the sounds of the party fading away, replaced by dark silent forest pressing in on us from all sides. Towering Douglas fir reached up for the stars, while the night air was laced with the scent of cedar.

  I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. Simon Fraser University was located on top of Burnaby Mountain and it was chilly up here. My short fake-leather jacket looked good but did zip against the elements.

  I’d had to get somewhat creative with what I’d told Ari in terms of the information that had led us to Cole in the first place, given he had no clue that Leo was a half-goblin, or, in Rasha terms, a PD. Named for the old hunter joke “What do you call a half-demon? Practice.” I’d learned not to call Leo a practice demon at my peril. I’d ended up saying that while the snitch had been a dead-end, I’d asked Leo about Davide since they both went to Simon Fraser University together. She’d led me to Cole which, in turn, had brought us to this possible break of the sleep clinic.

  We stepped into the half-empty parking lot. There was a whistling hiss and then a black whirlwind burst from the shadows. It funneled counterclockwise a couple of times before flying apart into about a half-dozen tiny, red, demonic bats. They’d have been cute if it weren’t for the needle-sharp fangs.

  Ari stepped into the shadows, drawing the darkness up into his hands like the swell of a wave before rolling it out to envelop a few of the demons, curling the darkness around them with weight and force. Their wings beat frantically as his magic tightened until sufficient pressure was applied on their weak spot on the underside of their left wings to kill them.

  Three of them choked out wheezed death rattles and poofed out of existence.

  I wrinkled my nose at the ashy scent filling the air, but disposed of a couple myself, taking sadistic glee in toying with one little bugger who had nipped my finger. “Come here, my pretty,” I cackled, sending out a wave of electric magic like a net to trap it.

  The demon hovered in mid-air, struggling to get away, but I pinned it in place. I waved my hands like a conductor, directing it in sluggish loops. The link was strong and magic sang in my blood. The demon glared red murderous hate at me, straining to pull itself out of my web but I steered that puppy all over the parking lot, laughing in delight at making a demon dance to my tune. The novelty ran out soon enough, so I put it out of its misery and hurried toward the car, shivering.

  One last demon bat whizzed out of the darkness, its claws outstretched as it flew for my face. I flung up an arm to deflect it, right as the wind picked up. My loose curls, so sexy at the start of the evening, now whipped around me like Medusa’s snakes, and the bat became entangled.

  I screamed like my five-year-old self when Ari had dropped a spider down my back. “Get it off me.” Arms windmilling, I spun in circles, batting at the demon to dislodge it.

  Ari grabbed my arm. “You’re making it worse.”

  The demon chittered in a creepy high scream, its teeth snapping too close to my ears for comfort and its little feet spasming against my head.

  I wrenched free of my brother. Hand blazing with magic, I seized one of the demon’s legs, shrieking when the bat licked my still-bleeding finger, courtesy of its vampiric friend. I flung the bat to the concrete, ripping out an impressive amount of hair along with it.

  I fired a stream of magic into its heart, but the demon wasn’t dead given it hadn’t disappeared. I’d incapacitated it but the weak spot was the only thing to finish them off.

  The demon lay there like it was taking a little nap. Except for the part where my continued magic flow was ballooning its body out to grotesque proportions.

  I still shook with residual shudders at the memory of it tangled in my hair. “You like that?” I increased my power.

  “It’s not a zit,” Ari said. “Don’t pop it.”

  The demon’s eyes bugged out; its body rippled and bulged as my magic crackled inside it.

  “Spoilsport.” I tried to disengage but my magic stretched between the demon and me like taffy. We were stuck fast.

  The demon’s skin tore with a squishy rip.

  “Oh, shit.” Ari grabbed my hand and pulled. The world twisted sideways in a vertigo-inducing lurch.

  Eventually I was able to open my eyes without wanting to vomit. We stood on the flat stones which skipped across the reflecting pond in the academic quad at SFU on the far side of campus from the parking lot, flanked by wide lawns and neat hedges. Long rectangular buildings supported on fat pillars formed a “U” around us.

  The world was bathed in a weird green light like I was viewing my surroundings through night vision goggles. A green version of the real world.

  Jaw dropping, I spun in a slow circle. “What…?”

  “Welcome to Emerald City. I shadow-ported you.” Correction. A hidden green version, accessed by my brother.

  “No points for originality, but many for portalling, O, great and powerful Oz.”

  “Thanks. Hadn’t realized I could bring passengers.” Ari laughed. “Fear and surprise. Chief weapons.”

  “Don’t forget that fanatical devotion to the Pope,” I said. “So how does this work?” I fanned out my shirt, sticky with sweat. “And why is it so hot?”

  “It’s always like this. Near as I can figure, it’s the energy I’m generating manifesting this pathway. Emerald City conforms to our spatial universe but lets me jump across our world in leaps and bounds. Have shadow, will travel. Watch.”

  Ari winked into existence on the far side of the quad by a large concrete flower pot. The dark outlines of the North Shore Mountains were visible in the distance.

  He was back with me a second later. “Cool, huh?”

  “Very. But if it’s shadow-port, and we did that, how come we’re still stuck in this green light place?

  “I need shadows to enter Emerald City but once I’m in, I stay in until I choose to leave. It uses up less energy than going in and out between EC and normal reality.”

  I let out a low whistle. “Someone’s been practicing. And keeping secrets.” Perhaps it was hypocritical of me, given that I hadn’t owned up to my real agenda with the witches, but it stung that he hadn’t told me about this. Ari and I had never kept secrets from each other. Not before we’d become Rasha.

  A cold shiver ran up my spine. Was our being Rasha together going to strengthen our crazy twin bond or drive us apart? I hunched deeper into my jacket, for all the good it did.

  “I wanted to figure out some stuff first,” Ari said. “I’ve researched the archives on Rasha magic. No one has ever had the ability to teleport. Drio can flash step, but it’s not the same thing.” He shrugged.

  Ari didn’t know if this mag
ic was a result of the witchcraft we’d used to induct him. If it was and he was already anxious about standing out? I rubbed the side of my hand over my forehead. “No matter how you got it, Ace, it’s all kinds of awesome.”

  A security guard came around the corner.

  I edged behind Ari but he wasn’t phased. “He can’t see us.”

  It was weird how through the lens of Ari’s magic every single detail on the guard’s uniform was apparent even from a hundred feet away, down to the neat cross-stitching of his company’s logo.

  Closer and closer the guard silently came, a jaunty spring in his step. Completely oblivious to our presence. Also whistling given his pursed mouth, even if I didn’t hear anything.

  “Enhanced vision but no sound?”

  “No smells either,” Ari said. “No clue if that’s the magic itself or me not having a handle on it.”

  Sweat ran down the backs of my knees. “What happens if you knock into someone while you’re in EC view?”

  Ari shadow-ported.

  The guard stumbled left, avoiding Ari’s sudden appearance. The guard frowned, looked right through Ari, then checked his shoe.

  “The magic forms a buffer.” The guard didn’t hear my brother even though he stood right there.

  Ari jumped back to my side, looking a little pale. “I’d better take us back.” He grabbed my hand and, with another sickening lurch, the world snapped back into color.

  We’d returned to the parking lot, next to the second-hand Honda that Dad had bought us. He’d said it was because we’d needed our own transport living at the chapter house, but I suspected he was relieved his Prius wasn’t going to suffer any more damage at our hands.

  Ari rubbed his hand over his chest.

  “You okay?”

  “If we’re being flexible with the definition, then sure.” He fumbled the key into the door, opened the glove compartment, pulled out a bottle of Tylenol, and popped a couple pills, dry-swallowing them.

  Since I was now sober enough to drive, I let him rest for the ride home.

  The magic we received when we were inducted was derived from an aspect of the Rasha’s personality. My prickliness, as Ari called my behavior after my dance dreams were shot, had resulted in my Lady Shock and Awe abilities. Kane, toxic in relationships, was literally poison, his skin turning into the ultimate bad touch, while Rohan had his knives. Enough said.

  I’d chalked the nature of Ari’s powers up to damage suffered from being tortured by demons and the shock of having his Rasha dreams put on hold when I was the one inducted at his initial ceremony. But was that all it was?

  Maybe the invisibility as we’d stood there-but-not-there wasn’t inherent to Emerald City but came from the fact that all these years Ari had longed to be a little less bright and shiny. That his deep-seated desire to be a little less seen had been made tangible.

  I glanced sideways at him, eyes closed, sprawled in the passenger seat, and wondered how far his resentment extended. The combination of dark forest and my own spiraling musings was not a good one, and I was glad once I turned off the winding road that led down the mountain back onto the light traffic at the base on Lougheed Highway.

  Forty-five minutes later, I drove through a black, wrought-iron gate set into a thick stone fence forming the perimeter of Demon Club’s property. The chapter house was located on a large tract of land in the Southlands area of Vancouver’s west side surrounded by woods. I cut the engine in front of the stately three-story mansion with its wide front stairs, large beveled windows with stained-glass accents, and multiple chimneys pointed up at the sky like divining rods.

  I shut the driver’s door, waiting for Ari to get out before beeping the fob at the car to lock it. A basketball thumped steadily against the pavement from out back, and Kane whooped as another of his shots went in.

  Thanks to the glow of the LEDs lighting up the court, his shirtlessness was on display, so the night wasn’t a total write-off.

  The ball bounced off the rim.

  “Come play.” He fired the ball at Ari. “Twenty-one.”

  “With your shitty layup? Fast game,” Ari said.

  “Watch it, son. I have five years of experience on you.” Kane jogged backward to the center line.

  “Five years of bad habits. At least my dad taught me how to shoot.”

  Kane froze. Only for an instant, but still.

  “Aw, man.” Ari strode toward him. “K, I didn’t mean–”

  Kane stole the ball away from Ari. “Shut up and play.”

  “Kane.”

  Kane raised his eyebrows at Ari, as if daring him to continue down that path.

  “All right, but you’re going down,” Ari said.

  Kane dribbled the ball. “Other twin?”

  “No, thanks.” I didn’t want to get in the middle of whatever old wound had just been opened. “I’m headed for ice cream.”

  “Seeing the ex not go well?” It was if all sound stopped just in time for him to drop those words with a loud thud.

  I glanced at Rohan’s bedroom window, his open window, exhaustion seeping into every inch of me. Working together, sleeping together, my time with Rohan was over. I wanted him gone so I could focus on my future. Which, admittedly might involve elements of my past, but in a new futuristic dynamic that was solely on my terms.

  Kane shot, missed, then patted my shoulder on his way to retrieve the ball.

  Leaving the guys, I marched through the back door and dug out the mint chocolate chip ice cream, sucking on a spoonful, and letting the icy crystals melt on my tongue.

  My eyes narrowed on the car keys to Rohan’s precious Shelby Mustang that were tossed on the counter and I couldn’t help once more replaying his look of regret. I stuffed the lid back on the ice cream tub and jammed it in the freezer, letting the cold blast of air steel my shards of ruined pride. I wanted to put that look back on Rohan’s face now, but for very different reasons. I was a free agent and after reconnecting with Cole, I wasn’t about to have our mutuals get all up in my business. Or kill any further hook-ups. Once and for all, Rohan needed to realize we were done.

  I waltzed through most of the main floor with my Brotherhood phone pressed to my ear, faking a conversation with some guy. By the time I got to Rohan’s door, I was running out of ways to turn my imaginary lover down, so I hoped he was in his room and not down in the Vault working out.

  Jackpot. His door was ajar enough to see him laying on his stomach across his bed, a low stream of chill music issuing out of his speakers. I strode back and forth in front of the door, giggling that it was late and I couldn’t possibly meet my pretend hook-up now.

  As soon as Rohan indicated by word or deed that he’d overheard, I’d set him straight with absolutely no room for doubt. It was time for him to go back to Los Angeles so I could get my sex life back.

  By my third pass of Rohan’s door, I peeked in to see how my conversation was going down. In case I needed to adjust my volume.

  Rohan hadn’t moved. I crept around the side of his bed, doing my damnedest not to think of the many varied and deliciously filthy acts we’d partaken of on his mattress and ignoring my clit, Cuntessa de Spluge’s throbbing vote for one more round.

  His head lolled over the edge of the bed, his hair falling forward, blocking my view of his eyes.

  I touched his shoulder. “You asleep?”

  He flipped over, one hand shooting out to grab me by the throat, his iron blades snicking out from his fingertips to gouge my skin before his eyes even opened.

  My phone clattered to the floor. I froze, not daring to breathe until he blinked through his confusion into recognition.

  He jerked his hand away from me, scrambling back wide-eyed.

  Harsh breaths stuttering out of me, I grabbed my phone and fled. I didn’t stop running until I’d locked my bedroom door, sliding down the wall to sit with my knees drawn in to my chest. Shaking, I touched my fingertips to my throat and the tiny drops of blood that came away a shock
ing red.

  Lizzo’s “Good As Hell” rang out from my phone, jarring in the silence. I’d assigned that ringtone to Rohan as a reminder to myself to be hair flip girl with razors underneath. Well, my metaphorical razors had just met his very real blades and I wasn’t sure hair flip girl was up to the task of speaking to him.

  My hand hovered over my phone, my decision on whether to answer up in the air until the last note.

  “I’m so sorry.” Rohan’s voice was bleak. “I’d never–I wouldn’t hurt you.”

  I didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer because I wasn’t so sure anymore. I rested my head on my knees until I could speak with a steady voice. “Did you hear what I said in the library yesterday?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. You need to go home.”

  He laughed quietly, the sound laced with a bitter edge. “Don’t I just.”

  “Rohan.”

  “I’ll let you go.” The fatigue in his voice called up the smudges under his eyes and whatever was haunting him enough to put him on the attack before he was even fully awake.

  “Wait, what happened?” I asked before he hung up. I screwed my face up into a scowl. Why did I have to ask?

  There was a pause. “You caught me off-guard.”

  I toyed with the edge of my fluffy throw rug. “Something bad went down when you were away, huh?”

  His “yeah” was a long time coming. There was no point asking him about what. If he was reluctant to admit this much, I’d get no further answers out of him.

  “I saw my ex tonight,” I blurted out. I mimed shooting myself in the head. Hang up, idiot.

  “On purpose?”

  “Intel gathering. He was friends with one of the victims on this mission Ari and I are on.”

  “Ah. So who won for shittiest encounter?” Rohan asked. “The guy who ripped out your heart or the one who almost ripped out your throat?”

  Same guy. I fumbled my phone. “I have to go,” I said, and hung up, wishing I’d listened to myself ten seconds earlier.

  7

  “What crawled up your ass?” Ari asked Saturday morning, as he drove us to the Westside Sleep Disorders clinic.

 

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