The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Collection: Books 1-6: A Complete Paranormal Romantic Comedy Series

by Deborah Wilde

  Daniel hadn’t spotted us trailing him. He got into his cruiser, sitting in the passenger seat and staring out the front window.

  From behind a mail truck where we crouched, Ari and I had a clear view of him. Daniel’s partner, a wiry blonde showed up about five minutes later bearing a cardboard take-out tray with coffees, a brown bag balanced on top of the cups.

  “What time is it?” Ari asked.

  I checked my phone. “Two-thirty. Why?”

  “Daniel won’t be off shift until seven. He’s safe until then.” And we’d be at dinner with Malik soon after.

  “I’m trying very hard to come up with a reasonable explanation for you knowing police shift times and can’t get any further than loving a man in uniform. Literally.”

  Ari shot me a “stage two trying my patience” look. Since I was good to provoke until at least stage four, I ignored it.

  “The VPD lists the various shifts on-line,” he said. “Twenty-four hour serve and protect coverage from our fine men and women in blue. I had to memorize certain operational details about them as part of my training. In case we had to call someone in.”

  We waited for the cops to drive off, then stormed Malik’s studio. The dimly lit corridor on that floor provided Ari with tons of shadows to draw upon, while I stepped through the doorway with my electricity blasting.

  The demon must have heard or sensed us coming because our magic was absorbed by a fire shield around him. The blaze didn’t spread, didn’t cause any of the multitude of paint tubes or turpentine splatters on the concrete to catch flame, just crackled away, pouring off incredible amounts of heat and keeping us from him.

  Holy. Fuck.

  “Now,” Malik said, not even looking up from his easel, “I really do need to finish this painting today, so if you could get on with whatever futile errand you came here for?”

  “Killing you. Ridding the world of another evil spawn. Pretty opposite of futile,” I said. Ari and I tried to attack him with our magic through the flames. Each time, the fire rose up to harmlessly absorb our hits. Totally and absolutely futile.

  Inside the ring, brush between his teeth, Malik grabbed a small knife, scooping tiny amounts of blue to mix into the yellow blob in the middle of the palette he held in one hand. His quick flicks were reminiscent of a longtime artist comfortable with all aspects of his craft. He possessed that same lazy assurance that I’d had with my dancing. A way of holding oneself, of quickly yet efficiently doing a movement that was as familiar to the body as breathing, and requiring as little conscious thought.

  But to stay so focused on that task while holding us at bay? This was some crazy strong power. No matter what we tried, we couldn’t breach the fire. Couldn’t reach Malik. The air heated to blistering proportions, forcing Ari and me to look away or risk eyeball meltage.

  Too bad there was no way to prevent the familiar acrid burning smell from doing permanent damage to my nose hairs.

  Ari jerked his head toward the hallway.

  “Until tonight, Ari,” Malik called after us.

  We stopped halfway down the corridor. I wiped my still-streaming eyes, pitching my voice low. “Um…”

  “Yeah.” Ari pulled me into the stairwell. “Best guess? He’s a marid. Kill spot, right shoulder.” Marids’ nefarious activities had a larger scope than merely that of an incubus. The root of their name “mar” meant ocean, or in English “mer” like “mermaid.” They had water magic in addition to their fire abilities, but dealing in sex was fairly common for them.

  I sniffed, hoping for some fresher air to clear out my nose. “He was also at the graveyard. I recognized his scent. He probably sent the ghoul after us. Now what?”

  Ari’s booted heels made ringing thuds as he headed downstairs. “We figure out how to kill him before cocktails are served.”

  Chapter 20

  La Bella Trattoria was an upscale Italian restaurant, all gleaming gold accents and plush leather seats. I gave Malik’s name to the hostess and was immediately ushered into a private dining room that boasted an enormous temperature-controlled wine rack and a long table seating twenty but set for two, positioned under inset spotlights throwing off a muted glow.

  The hostess shut the door behind her as she left, giving us our privacy. And leaving me alone with Malik, who stood by the window, drink in hand, framed by the soft indigos and oranges of dusk.

  Malik had cleaned up, once more wearing what had to be a tailor-made suit. He quirked an eyebrow, so carelessly arrogant. “You’re not the one I invited.”

  “Yet here I am.” I whistled. “Private back room and everything. How schmancy.”

  While Malik got top marks for the lengths he was going to to charm Ari, I kind of felt bad for the demon, because no way was my brother ever going to get involved with his kind. At the same time, this full-court press was incredibly flattering, and if anyone could get Ari to fall, it was probably Malik. Which, back off, buddy, because Kane.

  I glanced out the window. “Nice view of False Creek. Now, be a gracious host and offer me a drink.”

  “I’d rather not.” He shooed me away.

  I eased onto the maroon leather banquette against the window, slapping my purse down beside me. “Come on. Let’s chat. You can give me your best villain monologue and then try to kill me.” I arranged my features in a suitable expression of rapt interest, folded my hands, and propped my chin on them.

  Malik laughed. “Fair enough.” He sank into a chair across from me with feline grace. “I assume as the ‘hero’–”

  “You don’t need the air quotes, dude. Also, get your genders straight.”

  “Apologies. ‘Heroine’ of this little interlude, that you have a question you want answered?”

  I cleared my throat and shook out an imaginary list. Malik’s lips quirked as I pretended to read. “Why did you send the ghoul after us?”

  “Guess.” Malik winked at me. “It’s ever so much more fun, petal.”

  “Was it as simple as we’d figured out the connection between your victims or were you raging at us finding something so private with the word you’d penned on their bodies?”

  Malik took a sip of wine. “You can’t expect a scorpion to change its nature.”

  Seems I couldn’t expect a straightforward answer either but I kept trying. “Jane Doe. What’s her name?” I wanted to give any family or friends of hers closure so they wouldn’t spend their lives wondering what had happened. Where she was.

  “I couldn’t tell you.” He ripped off a piece of focaccia bread.

  I grabbed his arm before he could dip it in the plate of olive oil and balsamic. “Couldn’t be bothered to find out who she was before you killed her?”

  Malik’s eyes flashed then he smoothed out his expression. “Something like that.” He removed my hand.

  “Now, that’s a shame. Ari?”

  My brother appeared, having used his EC teleport abilities and my location hints over our open phone line to catch Malik off-guard. He drove his shadow magic like a spear into the demon’s kill spot on his right shoulder.

  Malik dissolved into pure flame before the magic hit him, a dancing blaze of gold and orange contained within a human outline with the merest suggestion of a face. It was surreal and beautiful and I locked my knees together so the demon couldn’t see them knocking in the presence of his incredible power, even as I added my magic to Ari’s.

  Malik burned brighter, hotter, our power infusing his. He was like a glorious sun, dazzling, fearsome, but in no danger of losing control.

  Of the three of us, only two gaped open-mouthed.

  Malik laughed. “I can stay this way indefinitely but it might scare the serving staff.”

  Ari and I turned as one to the door, still closed for our privacy. It was too thin a barrier between the danger in here and all the innocent people in the rest of the trattoria.

  We dropped our magic.

  “Sit down.” Malik’s body returned to his corporeal state with nary a mark on th
e chair or his suit, just that same acrid burning in the air. “We’ll share some food, enjoy some conversation, and then you’ll be free to go, no harm to anyone.” The marid popped a balsamic-glazed fig in his mouth from the platter of assorted antipasto on the table.

  Outwardly, I remained calm, but I scanned him for any evidence that he’d been a demon tiki torch just seconds ago. I’d seen demon glamours fall away, I’d even seen transformations, but nothing on this level. What kind of power did it take to not leave a single drop of soot on anything? Or you know, not turn this restaurant into an inferno?

  “What if I don’t want to sit and chat?” Ari asked. “Will you compel me?”

  “I don’t compel.” Malik reached for a prosciutto-wrapped breadstick, shrugging when Ari didn’t move. “Suit yourself. But I assure you the food is delicious.”

  “Right.” Ari said. “When you sexually drain people, it’s all free will on their part.”

  Malik arched an eyebrow. “It is rather. Curious?”

  Ari jerked a chair out and sat down. “Not in the slightest.”

  “Mmmm.” Malik’s lips quirked up in a half-smile and he waggled the breadstick at me. “Eat, Nava. You seem like a girl who knows exactly what she likes.”

  I helped myself to a fig. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “That wasn’t an insult, petal. The excesses of human confidence are wondrous to behold.”

  Ari crossed his arms. “You mean we’re greedy. Which works out perfectly for demons to take advantage of.”

  Malik bit into the breadstick. “Aren’t you judgmental?” I snickered at his assessment, earning me a hard look from Ari. “What’s wrong with wanting more?” the demon asked. “More money, more fame, more power, more sex.”

  He said that last bit in a low rumble and I reached for the closest water glass because, holy Hannah, my nipples had gone hard.

  Malik smirked. “That drive is exactly what has propelled mankind to some of its greatest achievements.”

  “Or its worst depths,” Ari said.

  “True. But you don’t get one without the other.” He tilted his head. “Don’t you want more, Rasha?”

  “More dead demons?” Ari raised a hand. “Guilty as charged.”

  Yeah, I’d really picked the wrong hunter to spill my drink on back at the club. Once we’d dealt with Malik, I had to resolve the Leo situation.

  “No,” Malik said. “Just… more.”

  Ari tried to hold his stare but he broke first.

  Malik ate another fig punctuating his words with expressive gestures. “And to speak to your earlier point, I don’t take advantage of humans. I’m charming, I’m good looking, and when I need someone, I enjoy that need. As do they. I may take some of their energy but in the long run I leave them much better off than I found them.”

  I nibbled on the end of a breadstick. “Don’t sell yourself short or anything, Malik.”

  He smiled. “I never do.”

  “Jakayla’s behavior was described as addictive,” I said. “How is that better off? Or not compelled?”

  “Have you never been addicted to anyone? That deep-seated craving for a particular individual who you just can’t get enough of?” I squirmed under the weight of his stare. “Did he compel you?” I flushed. “Lucky man,” he said. “Though not his fault for how you felt.”

  Ari huffed an incredulous laugh. “Is that why you drew the symbol for love on your victims? You imitating this confidence you admire? Your twisted love resulting in sociopathic killing? Or just plain old demon evil?”

  A waiter knocked on the door.

  I tensed.

  “Come in,” Malik called.

  The waiter entered bearing a bottle of wine. He presented it for Malik’s approval, then poured a taster amount into a wine glass.

  Malik tried it and nodded. The waiter poured some into the glass in front of Ari.

  “I don’t need any.”

  “He most certainly does,” Malik said. “Top him up.”

  “Would you like a glass?” the waiter asked me.

  “No, thanks,” I said.

  “Very good.” The waiter took his leave. As he shut the door, the smell of garlic and roasted meat wafted into our private dining room.

  My stomach growled. “Can we go now?”

  We needed to find some other way to kill Malik since surprising him was impossible.

  Malik picked up Ari’s glass and held it out. “Don’t waste a great Merlot.”

  When Ari didn’t take it, Malik set Ari’s glass down, and picked up his own. “No drink, then. Let’s talk about you. I’m fascinated by that topic.”

  I put my tongue back in my mouth at the absolutely filthy smile that Malik trained on my brother.

  The clouds darkening the sky over False Creek had nothing on my brother’s expression. Ari pushed his chair back, but before he could stand, Malik’s hand had shot out to clamp down on his arm.

  “Let. Go.”

  “Tell me, Ari, if it’s all so black-and-white, where on that moral spectrum do you fall?”

  Ari jerked his hand away. “Pretty obvious.”

  “Is it?” The marid brushed a speck of lint off of his cuffs. “Portalling in was a cute twist, but did you really think you could surprise me enough to overcome my millennia of honed instincts? You know what I am, Rasha. You know my kind have walked this planet since the building of the first pyramid, since the Great Ziggurat of Ur. Admit it. You knew that you and your lovely sister could never take me down, yet did you show up with a gang of hunters to erase me from the earth?” Malik sipped his wine. “Or did you just go for it anyway?”

  Ari flushed red. “Fuck you.”

  “Probably not tonight. Enjoying the appetizers, petal?”

  I froze mid-reach for my fourth fig. Refused to feel embarrassed and took two. “Yup.”

  “See? Your sister is honest. I find that refreshing.”

  Hearing that approval from him made my self-empowerment feel sketchy. I drank some of Ari’s wine.

  Out in the main part of the restaurant, there was a loud crash of glass and applause for the dropped tray. Why did patrons do that? A man called out, “Sorry.”

  Malik tapped his index finger against his chin. “Tell me, Nava, what have you sought in your short life? Fame?”

  “Sure.”

  “Accolades, respect?”

  “Who wouldn’t? Hardly brilliant insights.” I drank some more wine, his smirk getting under my skin.

  “Mmm,” Malik said. Geez, this demon was as irritating as my brother. “Love?” he asked.

  “Why have love when I can have fun? Ari, seriously. Let’s go.” I shoved my chair back.

  Malik’s chair scraped across the wood planking. He caught up to me in a second, spinning me to face him. “You want it all.”

  I tossed my head. “So what if I do?”

  The demon tilted his head down to meet my challenging stare. His eyes were an ordinary brown and yet I had the distinct impression that some ancient intelligence saw right through all my plans, outmaneuvering me in games I hadn’t realized we were playing yet.

  I shivered, my lips parting with a soft sigh.

  “Nava,” Ari said. “Stop talking to him.”

  Malik flicked his fingers. Still trapped in the depths of his regard, I heard a meaty thwack and my brother’s grunt.

  “Go on,” Malik urged. He glanced past me, his eyes delighted and cruel. “Tell me. What would you sacrifice to have your life exactly as you want it?”

  His damn eyes forced the truth from me. All-seeing, exposing me, and making my continued silence impossible.

  “Everything.” The answer tore out of me. Chest heaving, I spun away from the demon…

  …and right into Rohan, who caught me. He jerked back as if burned.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I said.

  “I think you did rather.” Malik held up his hands at my glare. Winking, he disappeared. Cue flame, blinding light, searing heat, y
adda yadda yadda.

  I blinked against the bright afterimage on my corneas.

  Ari swore, cradling his shoulder and running out of the room as if he could catch Malik. I ran after him. Clearing up Rohan’s misunderstanding would have to wait until after we’d found the marid.

  I got halfway through the main dining room, when I heard Leo’s assigned ringtone coming from my purse. Before I could answer it, I was cornered by our waiter, steering me towards the bar and insisting that I pay the obscene amount this restaurant charged for the appetizers and wine that Malik had ordered.

  All my protests about needing to go after my brother and promises to come back and pay fell on deaf ears. Hoping Ari was able to keep up with the demon, I pulled my credit card out and handed it over.

  It was declined.

  There was a whoosh from the open kitchen and a flame shot up on the stove. The chef smothered it with a lid. I craned my neck trying to spot the towering mound of dirty dishes that I’d now most likely be required to wash.

  “Here.” Rohan handed over his card which covered the bill no problem.

  I shook my head. Freaking fabulous. But he had saved me from dish duty. “Thank you.”

  We hurried outside but Ari and Malik were gone. At least my car was still in the packed lot. I strode towards it, Rohan keeping pace. “About what I said,” I began.

  A Smart Car slowed down beside me, the driver giving me the universal hopeful eyes for “are you leaving?” I nodded and kept walking, the car following us.

  Rohan twirled a finger between us. “What would you say this is?”

  “It’s not anything anymore.” I beeped the fob but Rohan planted himself in between me and the door.

  “You’re–” He clenched his hands into fists, then exhaled and slowly unclenched them. “Go for a different answer.”

  The driver honked, his expression questioning. I held up a “one minute” finger.

  “It’s us. Do we have to label it?” I shouldered him aside to open the door.

  He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, Nava. Normal people label relationships, not find every excuse in the book to keep denying that they’re in one.”