“The attacks in Prague.”
Only years of performance training kept my shoulders from sagging. “They’re not your concern.”
He bristled. “That’s not your call.”
“Wanna bet? This conversation is over.”
Rohan took my hand. I leaned back, having caught myself swaying in to smell him, but all he did was press the blender plug into my palm, folding my fingers over it. “Not by a long shot,” he said.
“Hold your breath and wait for it to happen.” My anger was so thick it choked me and yet, one kind word, one tender gesture might have diffused it.
Rohan spun on his heel, yanked the fridge open and pulled out a can of root beer. He popped the tab with a sharp snap.
I busied myself washing the blender and pretending I didn’t feel the weight of his stare on my back. Drying it off, I crossed the kitchen to put the appliance back on its base on the counter.
“Damn it.” Rohan grabbed my wrist. “Nava.”
“I swear, I’m getting that dog. Today.” I jerked free and kept walking.
“Please.” His voice was soft and gentle.
I closed my eyes briefly as I returned the blender to its proper place. “What?”
“I need…”
I turned to catch the fire of his gold gaze. “What?” It came out in a whisper.
Rohan stepped forward. The air between us thickened with the gravity of his expression and my ache to have him finish that sentence with one simple word.
My every muscle strained with the effort of keeping still.
His voice dropped to a growl. “To know.” He raked a hand through his hair. “About the Brotherhood.”
Hollow disappointment kicked through my chest. “Like I said, there’s nothing to talk about.”
Only once he’d left did I spin away from the blender, open the cupboard over the fridge, and reach up for the bottle of vodka stashed there. I poured a generous slug of booze into my drink, raised it in cheers to the universe, and chugged it back.
6
Putting on clothing applicable for this frat party was akin to willingly inviting in chlamydia. Cole had texted me to say that the theme was “naughty schoolgirl.” Really? “All you need is love” was a theme. “No man is an island” was a theme. “Naughty schoolgirl” was a reminder not to leave my drink unattended.
And yet, here I was.
The frat party was less annoying than expected. Though I came to that conclusion after the delicate soufflé of cannabis, a shot of McCallum’s, and the half of an Atavan that I’d found in a medicine cabinet had kicked in.
I waited for my ex to arrive, appreciating the “art imitates life” moment as I stood on a sticky patch in the corner trying to fend off some guy pushing me to dance and wishing I was at home, while Alessia Cara sang about being in that exact situation over the stereo in “Here.”
I’d just managed to rid myself of him when from across the room, atmospherically decorated with multi-colored Christmas lights, Ari met my eyes. He’d forgone a costume, and honestly, the rest of us in our sexed-up high school get ups looked ridiculous next to his all-black badassery. His chin jerk and glance sideways indicated “incoming.”
I steeled myself.
A cold Coke was shoved into my hand. “I’m not actually an asshole,” Cole said.
“Evidence to the contrary.” I frowned at the pop.
“Did you want something else?” he asked. “I know you don’t drink because of–”
I swiped the red Solo Cup he was holding and knocked a third back, before sticking him with the Coke.
“…Dance,” he finished up.
“Things change.” I tapped the cup. “Unlike your disgusting habit of mixing 7Up with beer, you lightweight.”
He grinned at me.
My eyes trailed down his school boy tie and along the V of his fitted shirt and vest, looking for the connection between the guy standing before me with the gelled hair, his glasses replaced with contacts that made his green eyes pop, and my first love.
It was still Cole, but sexy Cole. I wasn’t sure if that made this encounter easier or not.
“You gonna try to man me up?” His eyes warmed and I laughed.
“Yeah, remember how well that went the last time.”
When we were sixteen, he’d gotten so bummed about his skinny frame that he’d enrolled in extreme boot camp. I remembered him moaning on the ground, telling me he’d die if he had to do another sit-up.
Then I remembered him moaning for other, more pleasant reasons. I got lost in the memory of him propped above me, biting his lip when we’d lost our virginity together because he was so worried that he was hurting me–which he had, and talk about lackluster first time.
Still.
I curled a lock around my finger. “I dunno. Do you need manning up?”
He hooked a finger into his belt loop. “Do you think I do?”
And wouldn’t that be the massive win I’d been after, to bang my ex’s brains out, to have sex and not have to think a damn thing about it if I didn’t want to, and then to walk away first. Hot not-boyfriend achieved. Also closure. A shit-ton of that.
He smirked and I snapped my gaze away, taking a long drink. As I lowered the cup, I caught Ari frowning at me, before he nodded absently at something one of the people in his group was saying.
“You look good.” Cole’s eyes lingered on me. More precisely, lingered on the old schoolgirl tap costume that had been conservative when I was fourteen, but was “thematically” appropriate for tonight. My white button down shirt strained across my breasts, ending in a knot under my rib cage, while my bare thighs peeked out from the red plaid skirt that sat low on my hips. “Really good.”
“Yeah, I do.” Suck it, buddy. I’d be lying if I hadn’t planned this outfit knowing that Cole would be picturing me in dance sweats.
He ducked his head. “I’m sorry, Avon.”
As apology gestures went, it wasn’t what I’d dreamed of. That had been more him falling prostate in remorse at my feet before I kicked him in the balls then stepped over his body to drive off into the sunset in my hot boy toy’s ’67 Shelby Mustang. I shook my head. His Maserati.
Cole did that nose scrunch thing that I’d once found so adorable. “I freaked out when you got hurt and that’s no excuse. Trust me, my ex–” He swallowed the rest of that sentence.
I set the cup down on the window ledge. The hits I took for this gig. “You dated after me. You can say it. I’ll even go so far as to assure you that I don’t require your eternal monkdom in atonement.” ’Course I wouldn’t have said no to castration.
“Consider me grateful.”
The 70s classic “Ain’t No Sunshine” pumping out of the speakers morphed into a mash-up with “Toccata and Fugue.” Rohan’s first hit and the song that had come to represent everything confusing and tangled up about our relationship. Such as it was. Or, as of yesterday, wasn’t.
“How about you?” Cole fiddled with the tab on the pop can. “Seeing anyone?
“Nope. Though I was screwing the lead singer of Fugue State Five on a regular basis.”
“Even in fantasy land, as if.” Cole laughed and put the Coke down. “Remember the impressions you used to do of him performing with a giant ego-inflated head like it was a helium balloon?”
I laughed too. Weaker.
The lush bassline of this funky remix slid through my veins, leaving me wide open for Rohan’s famous singing rasp to wrap around my bones and shiver up my spine.
“The girl with the lightning eyes and the boy with demons in his soul,” Rohan sang.
“All kidding aside,” I pressed Cole’s hand between my own. “I’m not seeing anyone right now.”
A slow lazy smile spread across his face. “Good.”
My heart didn’t do a flip precisely but nostalgia did snag it, sinking in a hook and making it twinge. “Isn’t it just? Tell me what you’ve been up to.”
While he caught me up on the past couple
of years, mostly filling me in about his business courses and the cabin his parents had finally bought on one of the nearby Gulf islands, I traced my fingers over his palms. Once upon a time, I’d memorized the feel of them roaming over my body. Now the totality of Rohan crowded out memories of other men.
“Ow.” Cole pulled his hand away, shaking out his fingers that I’d been crushing. “Iron grip there, lady.”
“Sorry.” My breathy giggle and head toss were pathetic but Cole didn’t comment.
Luckily, it was a new day with plenty of room for new memories. I shifted closer to Cole. Partially for privacy but partially to make him lean in.
Ari made a “get on with it” motion from his side of the room.
“What can you tell me about Davide?” I tapped my index finger against my lips, drawing his gaze to my mouth. “Could he have been high or drunk that night?” Certain demons preferred their victims unconscious so if Davide had blacked out after attending some campus party, like say, one here at this frat, that might narrow the list of possibilities.
Cole gave a chin jerk and a “hey” to some frat boys. “Davide smoked pot occasionally but he didn’t drink. Kept him too hungover to rock climb. And he was super stoked about climbing the Chief the next day, so he was probably sober.” The Chief was a nearby mountain and popular rock climbing destination. “Didn’t you say something about an undiagnosed medical condition?”
It didn’t even occur to him that I might be lying to him about why I was here. About who I was.
“Uh, yeah. I’m just ruling things out.”
There was a bright burst of laughter over to our left from a couple utterly wrapped up in each other. I drank in their easy familiarity, the way their bodies angled towards each other, their pinky fingers hooked together. That need to be connected at all times. Cole and I had had that once. That underlying thrum of awareness that I was his and he was mine.
Unlike Rohan and I. Except… I flashed back to our time in Prague: Rohan’s excitement at showing me Dancing House, the blazing hunger on his face when he’d seen me after his performance, his fury when he’d realized that the Brotherhood had sent the gogota after me. And the kind of kiss I’d never even dreamed was possible.
“I wonder if it could have been a side effect of the meds he was on.” Cole hadn’t noticed me lost in my thoughts.
I pulled my hand away from my lips. “What meds?”
“Sleeping pills.”
The back of my neck prickled.
Cole nudged my drink aside to sit on the ledge, patting the spot next to him.
I sat down. “What was the problem?”
“Not sure,” he said, “but he’d started going to some sleep clinic over on the west side.”
Nightmare demon? It would fit the crimes and a sleep clinic was the perfect place to troll for victims.
Cole lay his hand on my thigh, the warmth of his skin seeping into mine. “I don’t want to talk about Davide anymore.”
“Hmm. Whatever topic could interest you, Mr. Harper?”
“Let’s roll.” Ari showed up, not even pretending to acknowledge Cole.
“Hey, Ari,” Cole said, with a friendly smile. “How are you?”
Ari trained a fake smile back at him. “I’m great, Cole. How are you? Good? Great. We done?” Ari and Cole hadn’t gotten along before he’d dumped me. Now? Yikes.
Cole laughed. “Wow. Golden boy not minding his manners. Shocking.”
“Cole.” I shook my head at the use of his old nickname for my perfect twin, but Ari didn’t need me standing up for him.
“You never knew me, Harper. Don’t act like you do now.”
Cole blinked at the silky menace in Ari’s voice.
My stomach dropped and I pushed in between them. “Ari is my ride so…”
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.”
The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Collection: Books 1-3 (Nava Katz Box Set) Page 62