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

by Deborah Wilde

  Rohan hooked a finger under the elastic of my underwear, ripped them off, and licked my clit, a long slow tease.

  Moaning, I reached overhead and clutched the door handle, Rohan’s fingers pushing deep inside me, his tongue stroking harder and faster. My body tensed in waves: thighs, abs, core.

  Fingers still curled in his hair, I tugged him up. “Fuck me, Rohan.”

  He rested his head against my stomach. “I don’t have a condom.”

  “I do. Purse. Floor. Front.”

  Rohan found it, dropped his jeans to his knees, and sheathed himself in record time. “Your wish. My command.” Switching places with me, he sat on the edge of the seat, his feet planted on the concrete.

  I straddled him, sinking down on top of his hard cock with a loud groan. Requiring a moment to steady myself against the tangle of need and want.

  “I thought I’d remembered it wrong. That you couldn’t feel this good,” he said. “God, Nava.” His hips snapped off the seat, one hand clutching my ass, making me ride him hard. He ran his fingertips, blades out, up and down along my spine.

  Hips thrusting upwards, he pounded into me. Every time he pulled back, I chased him, my hands clutching his biceps, forcing him to bury himself inside me, over and over again.

  He clasped the back of my neck with one hand, my blood singing under his relentless desire.

  My curls snarled, Rohan running his hands through them with fingers that started out steady but soon were trembling. He claimed every inch of me, his breath coming in ragged pants, and those gorgeous eyes burning for me. I grinned, thrilled at reducing him to a shaky, needy mess.

  I pushed down on his shoulders, gripping the hard lines of muscle, reveling in the feel of bottoming out against him. He sucked a tit into his mouth, the pressure almost painful. My body buzzed, my hands and feet pulsing. I felt brutally, intensely, electrically alive.

  My orgasm ripped through me and I shattered. My vision blurred, the world falling away from me. My head tumbled back as I cried out, Rohan joining me seconds later.

  With the car door open, we were soaked, and the wind bit viciously into my back, but lazy satisfaction glowed deep inside me and heat burned through my chest.

  He smoothed away my hair, resting his forehead against mine. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” I splayed my palm against his chest, taking in the staccato beat of his heart.

  “Someone came prepared.” He carefully lifted me off of him.

  “Hmmm? Oh, yeah.” Reaching for my pants on the floor of the back seat, I smiled at him, covering the guilt twisting my stomach into knots. I’d tossed those condoms in my purse after I’d accepted Cole’s dinner invitation. I slipped back into the wet, dirty scrubs. Shit. How was I supposed to go to dinner with him now? Traces of the mermaid’s whispering still bounced around in my brain; traces of Rohan’s scent branded my skin.

  I scrubbed a hand over my face as my phone trilled a reminder. Oh no. Rohan reached my cell before I could, picking it up off the floor of the car to hand it to me.

  “Here.” His smile turned to confusion as he put the phone in my hand and caught sight of the screen. “Cole? Isn’t that your ex?”

  “Yeah. I ran into him because of the investigation? He was friends with one of the victims?” I was babbling. Fuck this. I wasn’t betraying Rohan. I had nothing to feel guilty about. “We’re having dinner tonight.”

  Make of that what you will, Mitra. The waistband of my scrubs snapped hard against my hip.

  Rohan tugged his jeans on. “Make him take you somewhere fancy.” That was it. No scowl, no show of possessiveness.

  It wasn’t the reaction I wanted but it was the only one I was going to get.

  12

  We made a brief stop at Harry’s to give him the collar. Rohan wouldn’t even touch it, leaving me to drop it off. Harry grimaced when he saw my disheveled, drowned rat appearance.

  “Don’t say a word.” I placed the collar in his hand. “Is there some doggie owner going to come after us for theft and destruction of property?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Talk to your dealer and get me the location of that spine asap or I swear on my friendship with Leo, I will come back and hurt you.”

  “No need to get mean,” he grumbled and shut the door.

  Rohan and I didn’t speak for the ride back to Demon Club. I put on some random station and turned the volume up.

  Once home, I stood under the shower for a good twenty minutes getting feeling back into my extremities. My skin was turning lobster red but I still hadn’t unraveled the cold knot in the pit of my stomach. I argued myself back into and out of the date for the length of my shower and the time it took to get dressed. The internal debate continued while I cornered my brother in his room.

  I shoved my phone with the open photo of Jane Doe into his hand. “Two of seven victims have the symbol. Not quite a hard link but a start.”

  Ari looked at it for a long time before handing it back. “You shouldn’t have gone by yourself.”

  “When are you going to admit I have something to contribute to this?”

  He walked into his bathroom, returning with a small bottle of sleeping pills which he pressed into my hand. “You might need these for a few nights. Okay?”

  Oh. “Okay.” I put them in my purse.

  “You’re right. Two bodies aren’t enough, but I’ve arranged to see another one. How do you feel about gravedigging?”

  I groaned.

  Ari clapped me on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”

  “Can we not do it tonight?” Not that I was blowing work off because of Cole. “I don’t think I can handle two dead people in one day.”

  “Sure. Let’s spend tomorrow going over the files. See if we missed anything in light of this new connection. We’ll hit up the cemetery at night.”

  I hugged him. “Thank you.”

  I was almost at his door when he called out, “Hey, Nee?”

  I turned back. “Yeah?”

  “I get not wanting to be alone after what you went through today, but don’t let douchecanoe take advantage of you.”

  “Wait. How did you know?”

  He laughed and waved good-bye.

  I sat in the car for five minutes before I’d pulled myself together enough to meet Cole inside the upscale burger joint he’d chosen. It wasn’t fancy, but he knew my weakness for a good burger and this place was reputed to have the best in the city.

  Cole was already seated at a window table, but he got up to give me a big hug.

  I grit my teeth at the pain that flashed through my shoulder. My accelerated healing abilities were doing wonders for the damage I’d incurred while fighting the cù-sith, but the still-visible knife scars on my skin weren’t something I had a ready lie to explain away.

  “I’m glad we could meet tonight,” he said.

  “Me too.” I picked up the extensive menu. “Do you want to share some appies?” Cole laughed. I peered at him over the menu. “What?”

  “You are the worst sharer ever.”

  “That’s harsh, Harper.”

  He thrust his index finger out, pointing at a miniscule silver scar. “Onion rings, your teeth. Yes or no?”

  “I have no memory of that,” I said piously.

  Our waiter came over and we placed our orders, with separate appetizers.

  “What were you up to today?” Cole asked. “Spa date? You look pretty relaxed.”

  Well-fucked will do that. I fiddled with the vinegar bottle, lining it up neatly with the napkin dispenser. “Some work stuff. You?”

  “The frat had a mixer with our sister sorority, but I bailed early.”

  “And dozens of women deflated with disappointment.”

  He pressed a hand to his heart. “You wound.”

  Is Rohan okay? I forced a grin. “What exactly does one do on a mixer? Not being of the Greek persuasion.”

  “We were handcuff bowling today. Plastic handcuffs,” he added. “It’s harder
than you’d think.”

  Try fighting demon dogs and insane mermaids. Or seeing dead bodies. “Sounds fun. Did they mind you ditched them to come see me?”

  “Nah. Everyone’s pretty cool. You? Your job must be pretty intense. It seems you’re always working. Anyone give you grief?”

  “Not even a little bit.” I downed the last third of my beer, and motioned to the waiter for another before pushing my plate closer to Cole. “Potato skin?” He looked at me suspiciously so I made a big show of leaning back, hands up, and mouth firmly closed. He snorted, took one and then spun his plate to me so I could eat all his calamari with legs, since he only ever ate the ones that were ring-shaped.

  Over burgers, we caught up on old friends; he told me about a river rafting trip he’d taken. Our conversation was light and easy. Easy was good, right? A refreshing change where I didn’t have to wonder about ulterior motives or power plays. Cole was an open book. Adorable. The perfect transitional.

  “I heard you were at UBC for a while. After…” Cole dragged a fry through the blob of ketchup on the corner of his plate but didn’t eat it. “Should I be talking about this?”

  I scooped up the fried onions that had fallen off my burger, stuffing them back on the fat grilled patty. “After what? After I almost permanently messed up my leg trying to dance on it when I knew I couldn’t take it? After you dumped me when I needed you most?”

  He took my hand. “I’m not that guy anymore and I promise you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I don’t trust your promises. But that didn’t matter, right? I smiled, looking up at him through my lashes. “Regardless, I think you should make it up to me. Take away the hurt.”

  “You weren’t the only one hurt.”

  I yanked my hand away. “Excuse me?”

  “You shut me out. And I’m not using that as an excuse to justify my behavior. I’m just saying, there you were, going through one of the worst things ever and I went from being the guy you shared everything with to getting nothing from you. No matter how I tried to engage.”

  “Oh, forgive me for not being articulate and considerate of your needs when my life was crashing down around me.”

  His face suffused with pity. “You never used to be this sarcastic.”

  “And you used to be smart enough to differentiate between sarcasm and truth. Guess we’ve both changed.” I hastily wiped my fingers off and grabbed my purse.

  Cole caught my arm before I could get up. “You’re just going to run away? Can’t we discuss this like adults?”

  My body tensed with the urge to rip his hand off me and storm off except Leo’s accusations about me cutting and running trumpeted in my head. I slapped my purse back on the table. “Okay. Let’s discuss the fact that you were supposed to know that I needed you.”

  “I did, but I had no idea how to comfort you. It takes two people to be in a relationship and you weren’t there.” He reached up for glasses he no longer wore, his fingers closing on air, then dropped them back to the table. He’d always obsessively cleaned his lenses when he got upset.

  Part of me wanted to take his hand in comfort but anger kept me locked in place.

  “I didn’t know how to express myself,” he said, “and it bottled up. What I did was awful. But I’m not the only one to blame for the break up.”

  I stared at my hands folded in my lap, rubbing my thumb over my knuckle in agitated strokes, my thoughts an uneasy jumble. This didn’t have to change anything. Mutual hurt, lack of trust, none of that mattered. Cole was perfect for what I wanted tonight. For what I needed. I didn’t want to be alone in the dark.

  “Do-over?” I said.

  “I’d like that.” In the warm glow of his eyes and the firm squeeze of his hands was a promise that he’d take care of me in all the right ways this evening.

  He called for the bill, pulling out his card to pay at the table.

  I wondered how our bodies would fit together now. If there were still secrets to be learned about each other. I smiled, picturing Cole above me.

  Green eyes morphed to a vision of blazing gold and Rohan’s hard, hot strength pounding into me. The half-grin he’d given me when I’d come. His comfort and understanding at what I’d faced today.

  “Nava?” Cole tucked his wallet away. His anticipation turned to resignation when he looked at me. “Ah. Is this a rain check or so long, farewell?”

  “Rain check.” I gave Cole a peck on the cheek and called it a night.

  “How many did you take?” Ari set a fresh mug of coffee in front of me in the library the next morning. I held up one finger. “Lights on or off?”

  “On.” I cradled my hands around the mug, savoring the warmth and that first inhale of java. Covering the previous coffee package in biohazard symbols had done the trick. This brew was rich and smooth.

  “I kept a flashlight in my bed after I saw my first dead body. Slept with it on for a week so no one would know.”

  “Did your nightmares get worse?”

  Ari looked off out the window, his gaze distant before he flipped his laptop open with a brusque gesture. “Social media profiles. Let’s start there.”

  Despite searching through a zillion selfies on all the major social media sites and several dozen more obscure ones, we didn’t find anything connecting our victims–not interests or even sexual preference. Though they’d all been attractive individuals in their own way.

  I stared at the list that Ari had written on a whiteboard. Of our six vics to date, Davide lived for rock climbing, Jakayla was big on animal rights activism, Reuben’s world revolved around pastry-making, Ellen was a moderately successful author busy with book signings and promo, and Max was a stockbroker who spent his downtime at flashy restaurants and clubs with different men. The Jane Doe remained the only question mark.

  Ari drew a line along the table with his finger. “Imagine this is the demon. It moves forward and at some point along this line, each of the victims comes into contact with it.” His hand closed into a fist. “Except we have nothing to anchor its movements except the victims’ deaths and there’s no pattern there.”

  “With that love symbol, I’d say maybe a dating app or site?”

  Ari tapped the blue dry-erase marker against the table. “Ellen’s sister told me she was still getting over a divorce. Not dating. Maybe a hook-up? Trouble is, a lot of those profiles don’t use real names. We could ask Kane if there is some kind of software he could run to search according to their photos but that’s going to take time because he’s away.”

  “She made a convincing Daenerys.” Of the multiple Daenerys cosplayers in the photo from the fan convention Mara had attended last weekend, she was the only one wearing Dany’s Dothraki riding outfit. I stifled a yawn as we scrolled back further, past Game of Thrones memes, and a series of photos of her and Daniel mugging at a pho restaurant. They were adorable, him all hot cop, and Mara with her Harry Potter glasses and sassy grin.

  Ari rubbed his temples.

  I clicked to load more photos, going back about two weeks now on her feed.

  “Stop. Go back.” Ari stopped drumming. I scrolled up. “That one.”

  It was an innocuous photo of Mara at some club in front of a curved bar covered in silver mirrored tiles, like a giant dissected disco ball. She’d captioned it “Playing wingman.”

  “She’s at Labyrinth,” Ari said.

  “The club Max was found at.” I opened another tab to pull up his profile, flipping back to photos of the night in question. He’d posted a number of them before he died. “What’s Electric Sands?” I pointed to a logo projected on the back wall of the dance floor in one of Max’s photos.

  “Holy shit.” Marker between his teeth, Ari grabbed the laptop, pulling up the club’s homepage. He jabbed a finger at the screen.

  “‘Labyrinth’s bi-weekly celebration of Arabic electronica, deep lounge, and trance with DJ Isra. Wednesdays,’” I read. I clicked back to Mara’s profile to see when she’d posted that photo.
“Same night Max died.”

  Ari grinned at me and held up his hand for a high-five. This was huge. Two victims attending the same place on the same night. “Pull up our suspected demon list, then make a new column and add any demons of Arab origin that fit,” he said. “We don’t need to bother with ghouls or demons taking on animal forms. They wouldn’t have done this.”

  “Or ifrit,” I said. “They don’t glamour and winged fire beasts would not go unnoticed.”

  Ari swung the screen around to study the list. “Some subsets of daeva might fit.”

  “I still think we’re looking at an incubus or a succubus. Jinns pull that sex shit,” I said. “And we do have two victims connected by a nightclub.”

  “What if they’d been blackout drunk or high? Still unconscious and open to nightmares.”

  “Max maybe, but Mara doesn’t strike me as the type to go on benders. Sex though? Anytime, any place.”

  Ari ran his finger over the delete key but didn’t tap it. “You’d know.”

  “As would you lately.”

  He shot me the finger. “Male and female vics. I’m still bumping on an incubus and succubus working together. There’s a lot of enmity between those two.”

  “Unless we’ve got a bisexual demon.”

  Ari tossed a dry-erase marker up, catching it one-handed. “No such thing.”

  “There are exceptions to every rule.” I pointed to myself. “Exhibit A.”

  “True, but when it comes to incubi and succubi, they’re strictly hetero in their victim choices.”

  “Which brings us back to a team,” I said.

  “Maybe.” He tossed the dry-erase marker on to the table. “You up for some clubbing tomorrow night?”

  “Sounds like a plan. We can take the victims’ photos there, ask around.”

  “See who they were with,” Ari said. “Hopefully we’ll narrow things down more once we suss out the place. For now,” my brother stood up, cracking his neck. “Eat and get some rest. We won’t be going in to the cemetery until late tonight.”

  The second he left the library, I hit the shelves, bent on some spell-finding recon for my other mission. Once I had the gogota spine, I needed a way to test it for magic since binding would involve spellwork.