The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(13)

“Sucks a bit less since it was only a PD.” He flicked on his blinker, pissing off the chick behind us who honked multiple times.

I lowered my window to shoot her the finger. The cool night air streaming over me was invigorating enough to keep me upright so I kept it unrolled. “What kind of a demon is a PD?”

“Old Rasha joke. What do you call a half-demon?”

I shook my head.

“Practice. Practice demon.”

“PD. Ooh, bitchy. But she was a hybrid.”

“Yeah. Probably some genetic throwback on the demon side. Still just half-demonic. Half-human.”

“How do you know?”

“Dust ’em and you’re gold. Literally. PDs explode into gold dust. Josh was a halfie as well.” Ari made a sharp left, pulling into a convenience store parking lot. “Back in a sec,” he said, leaving me in the car with the motor running.

I fiddled with the stereo knob, unable to take any more musical torture.

Moments later he was back with a plastic bag. He pulled out a blue sports drink, cracked the cap, and handed it to me. “Drink. You need the electrolytes.”

I wasn’t a fan of these things so my first sip was tentative, but the liquid hit my system like a rush of cocaine. I chugged the rest down in one go. “More,” I breathed.

He handed me the other drink that he’d purchased, this one a yummy orange-esque flavor. Once I’d downed that too, I sighed in satisfaction. “That was amazing.”

Ari backed out of the spot, shaking his head. “Don’t ever make that sound in my presence again.”

I twisted the cap shut, jamming it back into the bag with the other empty bottle. “If I could give the power back, I would. It should be you joining Demon Club.”

My brother merged back into the light traffic, homeward bound. “I know.” He ran a hand though his bedhead, spiking his blond tufts. “But it doesn’t seem like either of us are going to get what we want.”

There was nothing I could say to that, so I channel-surfed, looking for a song to reflect my mood. The only thing that came close was “Bound,” an angsty charged hit from a few years ago by Fugue State Five. I sang along to the last verse.

“You know the words?” Ari didn’t sound impressed.

I shrugged, betting he did too since we would have had to been living in a cave during our teen years not to know the emo boy band that had taken the world by storm. Also, Leonie had been obsessed with them, playing their music incessantly.

The next song was some crap rock ballad so I punched the radio button off. The silence was deafening.

Ari shot me a sideways glance. “Gotta say I’m surprised you’re not celebrating. Finally having a tangible way of keeping people at bay and all.”

I slapped my feet onto the car mat. “I don’t do that.”

My brother snorted. “Right. You welcome them in with open arms.” He pursed his lips. “These last few years? It’s like you decided to make yourself this prickly ball of chaos.”

“The PC among us call it ‘hot mess,’” I quipped.

“Kinda ironic that your power is a physical manifestation of that.”

The vein at my temple throbbed. “You’re wrong. My sucky superpower is just that. Sucky. Not some kind of subconscious desire made real.”

One hand on the wheel, he waved the other around, speaking in a mock scary voice. “Whooo, don’t get too close to me, I might shock you.” He dropped his voice an octave into horror movie voice over. “And this time, it’s deadly.”

“I’m not the only deadly one,” I said waspishly. “Got any other weapons strapped to your body?”

“Nah. The knives were something I started playing around with a while ago. Doctoring up the best high salt concentration, finding the most effective method of coating the blade.” He flashed me the thick silver ring on his middle finger with a ruby or red garnet in the middle. “See this? Iron poison ring. Literally.” He spared another glance at the ring before his hands tightened on the wheel. “I was playing around with stuff for when I took my rightful place and all that.”

My anger deflated at the reminder of what he’d lost. “You, Ari Katz, are my hero.”

My brother took his eyes off the road long enough to give me a crooked grin. “And you, Nava Katz, are a really shitty demon hunter.”





4





The lights were blazing in every room in our house when we pulled into the car port out back. It kind of kiboshed my plan to sneak in and then hide out in my room until my parents cooled down. Ari, the keener, bounded off ahead of me. My walk had more of a “headed to the guillotine” vibe to it.

I veered into the backyard to snap a few stalks off Mom’s aloe plant to apply to my still-throbbing chest. It was a gorgeous night, made more so by the fact that I was still alive. I raised my face up to the stars, calmed by their distant pulsing. All was peaceful and still until my shoulder blades tensed like someone was behind me.

The maybe-demon from Josh’s alleyway was back, having stopped about five feet away, triggering the motion sensor. What with Josh’s sister trying to kill me and all, he’d fallen off my radar.

Aloe gooped over my fingers, having clutched the frond hard enough to break it, and my terror and an intense curiosity resurfaced. There was no denying his compelling presence. Plus, he had those long lashes that were my Kryptonite. I opened my mouth to scream. Or drool.