He looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. A couple of inches taller than me, his fitted black T-shirt reading Policing with Pride showed off his hella tight biceps. “Yes?”
“I’m Alison. I’ve been doing a practicum at the clinic.”
He screwed up his face. “Was work notified already?”
“No. I came to pick up Dr. Alphonse’s gift. For the surprise party?” I wrung my hands together. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“I got back from my swim, and…” He brushed a hand over his hair plastered in wet strands to his scalp. “I don’t know about any gift.”
“That’s okay.”
Daniel nodded distractedly, swaying on his feet. He gripped the front door frame. “They gave me a shot.”
I touched his hand. “Do you want to sit down? Have some water or something?”
“Tea.” He smiled faintly. “Mara drank gallons of the stuff.” He shuffled into the house, lowering himself into a chair as I filled the electric kettle.
A clanking noise vibrated up from the basement. “Water tank,” Daniel said, seeing my puzzled look. “It’s old.”
I gestured at his T-shirt. “Are you a cop?”
He nodded. “Serve and protect.” His pride was evident even through his grief.
“This is such a shock,” I said. “She was so young. Was there any history of heart trouble in her family?”
“Diabetes but not heart problems.” Daniel toyed with the spoon in the bright yellow ceramic honey pot that matched the walls. “The paramedic said it could have been an undiagnosed condition or just brought on by stress.” He directed me to the appropriate homey wooden cupboards.
I pulled out a mug covered in painted sunflowers, its cheeriness a slap in the face to how awful I felt. I filled it with boiling water, then let it steep, keeping an eye on him. Pretending to have known Mara, known her personal history and be exploiting it during this tragedy to further the investigation, was one of the ickiest things I’d done as Rasha.
“Was there anything going on at work? Mara didn’t say anything but you know how cheerful she was. Never complained.” Daniel was starting to slur his words.
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” I said.
Daniel slumped further down in his chair. “How could Mara be here one moment and gone the next?”
I dumped the soggy tea bag in the sink. “When did you last see her?”
“This morning. She was asleep. I mean, I thought she was, except the paramedic estimates that’s when the heart attack happened.” He buried his head in his hands. “What if I could have saved her?”
“There was probably nothing you could have done.”
He shook his head almost violently. I wished I could tell him the truth, though learning about demons would hardly be a comfort.
I placed the mug down in front of him. “Here. Drink your tea.”
He shot me a grateful look. I squirmed, wishing he’d denounce me as a liar instead of acting all indebted when I’d entered his house under false pretenses and was about to go snooping in his dead roommate’s stuff. Fighting the good fight could be such shit. “Can I use your bathroom?”
He gave a slow wave behind him. “First left.”
I tiptoed down the hallway, peering into doors until I found Mara’s room since I doubted Daniel was the one with the fanatical love of Daenerys cosplay. Not that I’d judge, but his shoulders were too broad for the costumes hanging on the wall rack. Each outfit was neatly stored in its own plastic garment bag, with long blonde wigs arranged on Styrofoam manikin heads. There was no handy demon evidence, unfortunately.
When I returned the kitchen, Daniel was slack-jawed and asleep, his head on the table next to the mug.
Ari was checking his breathing. “Find anything?” He shot Daniel one last sidelong glance as we left.
I elbowed my brother. “Quit macking on the mourner. How inappropriate.”
“I was making sure he was okay.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“Well?” He edged me out of the way to claim the driver’s side.
“Other than a deep Mother of Dragons obsession? No. You?” I walked around the front bumper to the passenger side.
Ari filled me in as he drove. “Mara had a symbol drawn on her in felt pen.” He retrieved his phone from the cup holder and tossed it to me. “Took a photo.” The symbol looked like a distorted small “w” with a dot underneath the left side. “It’s the Arabic word for love,” he said.
“We didn’t see anything like this on the other vics.”
“Not like we have full nudes of them. This was drawn on the back of Mara’s neck, hidden by her hair. We need to see other bodies.”
“Is that possible?”
“Maybe. I need to make some calls.”
I poked his arm. “And then fill me in immediately.”
“Yeah, yeah.” That sounded so believable.
Well, at least this morning’s shock hadn’t left time for me to obsess over my impending lunch. After going home and armoring up in a form-fitting raspberry knit dress and my favorite sparkly purple nail polish, I drove over to Lotus. I arrived on the dot of noon, the soothing noise of the water feature inside the front door making me breathe easier. The interior was elegant, minimalist, and smelled like fresh linens.
Servers flitted about, attentive without hovering.
A lithe waiter in all white showed me to a table. My lunch date wasn’t here yet so I took the seat that would allow me full view of Rohan’s arrival. I was idly perusing the menu, the thousand volts thrumming through my veins undercut by a sharp curl of dread, when the other patrons shifted in a rippled wave.
If Rohan was aware of the electric jolt his presence charged the room with, he gave no sign of it. His stride past the well-heeled crowd, their hungry eyes feasting on his progress, was leisurely and self-assured.
My greedy little heart chanted “mine” almost loud enough to drown out the stutter of my brain’s grand mal seizure at the sight of him.
Rohan wasn’t dressed flashy. In fact, in a slim, black suit tailored to his frame and silver cufflinks winking discreetly at his wrists, it was his very understatedness that packed a punch. There was a certain beauty about a man clad in a sharp suit during daylight hours, dressed to impress.
I curled my fingers into my palm, scared I’d reach for his ear-length dark curls that were raked back in wavy locks. And then almost drew blood when I looked at the face I’d saved to savor last.
He’d shaved his scruff into a mustache-goatee combo. It made him look so wicked that when he smiled that pirate smile, I almost came in my seat. Hot disappointment rushed in, filling my chest. This wasn’t about gaining my approval. My adversary had chosen his initial weapons with calculated brilliance.
I would not underestimate him again.
He strolled toward me, hands in pockets. “See something you like?” Nodding his thanks to the waiter, he eased into his seat across from me with fluid grace.
I tilted my head, studying him. “I’ve never noticed before, but in this light, you’re not bad looking.”
He grinned, picking up a menu. “I get that a lot. Order whatever you want. They’ve got my card on file, and you’re easy when you’re well-fed.”
Sadly, around Rohan, I was easy most of the time. Had been easy. I snapped my menu into submission.
We decided to share a number of dishes, from tuna tataki to salmon sashimi and an assortment of nigiri. The waiter took our menus, promising to return with our drinks.
“How’s your training going?”
“Okay. Not as good obviously without Tree Trunk.” Baruch Ya’ari was the Brotherhood’s weapons and fight specialist. He was the first Rasha I’d met when they sent him to take charge of me and train me in fight moves to keep me alive until the Brotherhood decided whether or not they wanted a sister. An official decision had yet to be handed down but Baruch had been recalled to HQ in Jerusalem while I was on assignment in Prague. Huh. Maybe tha
t was the decision, though it was a toss-up whether they trusted me enough to stay alive on my own, or they didn’t care if I died.
Regardless, I missed him with a fierce ache.
Polite small talk continued through our tataki appetizer. It was excruciating. I poured some soya sauce into the dish, casting around for my opening gambit. Something blasé to ease in to the topic of the gogota.
“You kissed Lily.” I jabbed wasabi into the soya sauce. “Twice.”
Damn it!
Rohan nodded. “I did.” He didn’t bother rationalizing that for at least one of those kisses Dr. Lily Prasad, that sweet, beautiful physicist, had kissed him.
“I get it.” To be clear, I meant that in the literal logistics way involving facial muscle movement and not with any emotional understanding known to mankind. “Lily was your first love. The original lightning girl.”
“And yet you claimed I’d written the song for you.”
The waiter set down our first platter of nigiri sushi.
I cooed appreciatively. Each of the pieces presented on individual flourishes of daikon were such sumptuous works of art that it was almost sacrilege to eat them. I silently thanked the sushi for their sacrifice to the greater cause. “Please. I said that for the mission.”
“Are you sure?”
“Obviously. Since I’m the one who said it.” Fresh and light, the fish melted in my mouth. This sushi was gonna ruin me for all other sushi. I eyed my companion and snorted.
“When Logan body-switched us, and Lily came to see me about getting back together, you could have wrecked things.” He mixed a smear of wasabi into his soya sauce, his chopsticks clattering faintly against the white ceramic dish as the bright green blob dissolved into the dark liquid. “Lils had no clue she was speaking to you. But you didn’t. How come?”
“It wasn’t for me to wreck. Besides, I like Lily.” Enough that I’d saved her from a demon’s clutches. Though I’d sort of put her there so that might not tally in my “go Nava” column.
Rohan nodded. “You were kind to her. I appreciated that.”
“Is that what our kiss was? A thank you? Because gratitude doesn’t usually involve tongue.” I pried my fingers off my blue lacquered chopsticks, folding my hands in my lap and away from the pointy projectiles.
A muscle jumped in his jaw but he didn’t say anything.
Amazing how provoking him brought my appetite roaring back. “Regardless, there was no reason for Lily to get hurt.” I dipped a piece of mango-wrapped salmon in the soya sauce, eyes seemingly on my meal, but watching Rohan through my lashes. “We’re off topic.”
“Have you heard from Gelman?” Rohan asked as the waiter placed a small carafe of warm sake and two tiny ceramic cups in front of us.
“No.”
“Is that why you and Ari had been targeting specific demons this past month?” he asked in his Southern-Cali drawl, all velvet curls and smooth baritone. His gold eyes, on the other hand, were the predatory gleam of a jungle cat.
“Yeah. I was hoping they’d lead me to some local witches who would in turn get me to Gelman.” There was no point lying to him. He’d been with me when the gogota attacked me and when I found Gelman’s trashed hotel room with no sign of her.
“Did they?”
“No. I’m not pursuing that avenue anymore.” I sipped some sake, wrinkling my nose at the taste.
Rohan leaned in. “Why not?”
The memory of Ari’s utter conviction that the witches had to be the bad guys flashed in my head. I opened my mouth, shaping my lie, when Rohan added, “Don’t even think it.” In a rumble that sent shivers up my spine and had Cuntessa willing my knees to spread-eagle.
I crossed my legs and went for a secondary truth to appease him. “I want the gogota spine as proof of what the Brotherhood is up to.”
“Despite Mandelbaum’s claim that the witches are behind it.”
“Heard that, did you?”
“You’d be amazed at what I hear.” His eyes narrowed. “And?”
“And nothing. I don’t have the spine yet. But I don’t think the witches are to blame. Hence me checking. If the spine is the mechanism by which someone is binding demons, then there’ll be magic traces on it.”
“So you want to perform a spell on it?” Rohan snagged a piece of paper-thin ginger, his strong fingers handling his chopsticks with deftness and certainty.
Shoot me now. I was envious of condiments.
I grasped my sushi too hard and it slipped with a plop onto my plate. “Yeah. I’m hoping that will give more insight as to who orchestrated all of this. Like the Brotherhood.”
“Unless the witches have figured out a way to control demons,” Rohan said. “Their abilities are a giant question mark.”
“Maybe if the Brotherhood had played nicely with them, they wouldn’t be such strangers.” I reached for my water.
He gave an exasperated huff.
I expected a lot of bad behaviors from Rohan, but sexism was not one of them. I took a sip, feeling oddly disappointed. “You’re right. The women must automatically be at fault.”
He lay his chopsticks down. “Could you stop being so damned prickly for a second? If the Brotherhood could control demons, why wouldn’t they pass that info on to their hunters?”
“Because they want it for their own nefarious plans.”
“Which are what?”
“Gee, how about taking out a Rasha who doesn’t want to go quietly?” I clamped my lips shut.
His expression softened. “That is never going to happen.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Besides, you’ll be back in L.A. soon.”
Rohan’s mouth pulled tight with frustration as the waiter arrived with our final dish, a beautiful piece of marinated sablefish.
“Back in Gelman’s hotel room,” I said. “You believed it was the Brotherhood behind the attacks, didn’t you?”
His “yes” was a pained exhale.
I ticked items off on my fingers. “Because the attack wasn’t random, it wasn’t on Samson’s orders, and it didn’t make sense that other witches would attack me or Dr. Gelman. Our gut instincts were pointing us to the same culprit. The Brotherhood.”
“We do nothing without hard proof. Making assumptions could get you killed.” He took half of the sablefish, chewing thoughtfully. “Does Ari know about any of this?”
I shifted in my seat in order to jiggle room in my belly. “He doesn’t want to be involved.”
“Who else knows?” The gleam in eyes inched a few more points up the “Danger, Danger, Will Robinson” thermometer.
Unconcerned, I fit a last piece of sushi into my stomach like the Tetris Grandmistress of Food that I was. It was taking me longer to set him off. Either he was getting inured to me or I was losing my touch. “Other than certain pushy people at this table, no one. I have a burner phone and I’ve been careful. I know what’s at stake here. Give me some credit.”
“I’m giving you sweet fuck all.”
I blinked at his words.
“You want to blow either the Brotherhood or a cabal of dangerous witches wide open and you’re going to do it on your own?” He leaned in, his voice low and hard as steel. “Are you crazy or just psychopathically egotistical?”
I sat up ramrod straight. “How dare you? This isn’t ego. I’ll bring people in when it’s safe to do so. When I have proof.”
“Right. When you have the spine. When you do a spell that, by the way, you have no training in. You tell yourself that you’ll bring people in, but you’ll find another reason to keep all of us out of the loop and you want to know why?”
“Mansplain it to me, would you?” My magic frothed inside me like a million pinpricks.
“Because you want to do everything, have everything, on your terms.”
Yes! Exactly! I was arranging my life to my satisfaction after so many years of feeling like I was at the mercy of the universal goddess of suck-ass. That was a good thing, not the rampant
narcissism that Rohan made it sound like.
Blood pounded in my temples. Rohan had walked away from his dreams, not had them ripped from his grasp like I had. Even becoming Rasha had happened with the full support of his family and the Brotherhood. While the demon-slaying lifestyle hadn’t been my choice, it could still be my opportunity, provided I was able to oust Mandelbaum and get some real change in the organization. I’d made a plan, I was collecting evidence, and I was going to see it through one careful step at a time. As the lone female in this situation, I knew better than anyone how this had to be played and if Rohan couldn’t deal with that, that was his problem.
I gripped the table and counted to ten. “Like I said, I need proof. I won’t risk bringing anyone into it until then.”
“You can’t bring me into it? I was there.”
My skin stretched tight from the strain of containing the wild hum of my magic. “You were gone,” I shot back.
“I was on assignment–”
“Child’s Play wasn’t your assignment!”
Rohan’s blades slid out of his fingertips for a fraction of a second before he forced them back under his skin with visible effort. “And you’re pissed that I didn’t bring you along to screw your way through the performer list.”
“Fuck you.” I jabbed a chopstick at him. “You don’t get to be mad because I didn’t tell you what I was up to when you didn’t even bother dropping me a line to, I dunno, say hello. Let me know you were alive. Since I’m fairly certain London has means of communication.”
“I was going to contact–”
“But what? A kraken ate your letter? Well, I’m here now so lay it on me. What happened with Lily to make you come running back and kiss me?”
Silence reigned.
I pushed the eighteen grains of soya-saturated rice on my plate into a passable small “n.” “Feel free to speak.”
“What’s the point? You’ve obviously figured it all out.”
I nodded. “I did have a month to come to my conclusions.”
Rohan spread his hands wide, his suit jacket bunching tight around his flexed biceps. “Enlighten me.”
“I can’t bring you into the light and I don’t want to stay in the darkness anymore just because you want company. I can’t fix you.”
The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Collection: Books 1-3 (Nava Katz Box Set) Page 66