The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(3)
We’d both seen the photo of our parents’ stunned faces when a somewhat younger, yet still astonishingly ancient Rabbi Abrams had visited my mother–a descendent of King David–to check Ari out. Since the Brotherhood is top secret, my parents weren’t clued in to the true nature of the rabbi’s visit until after he’d determined Ari as an initiate: a chosen demon hunter. The photo in question had been taken after a lot of explanations and convincing that yes, this was all real, and yes, their son had a hell of an important destiny.
I went into my bedroom to grab some clean clothes to put on after my shower.
Back in the day, and by day I’m talking Old Testament, this shepherd called David took out the giant Goliath for King Saul. While that landed David his place in history, there was more to him than his crazy rock-slinging skills.
I don’t know if David was an adrenaline junkie or a major do-gooder but when King Saul was later possessed by a demon, David was all “leave it to me,” and cast the hell spawn out. Guess David figured demon removal was a good public service to keep up, because once he became king around 1010 B.C.E., he gathered up his buddies to continue the work. Kick-ass Jews. Awesome.
Though it had never made sense why he called his hunters Rasha–the Hebrew word for “wicked.”
I tossed my clothes over the hook affixed to the back of the bathroom door. “Talk to me.”
My brother had spent his entire life studying and training in preparation for the day he was formally inducted into the Brotherhood. I cocked an eyebrow at Ari, annoyed when he shrugged off my question. “Don’t pretend you aren’t excited to see what magic power you’ll end up with.”
His eyes lit up for a second. “Telekinesis or light bender. Those would be cool.” He jerked a thumb at the shower and I obediently ran the tap, waiting for the water to hit blistering temperature.
“Slime generator or asphyxiation via lethal ass gas, more like.”
“Ha. Ha.” Ari gnawed on his bottom lip.
“You want out?” I cracked my knuckles. “You could totally take all three of them downstairs. I’ll help.”
He shrugged, the motion bunching the dark fabric around his muscles. “I don’t know what else I’d do. What else I’m good for.”
I poked his bicep. “Kill the pity party, Mr. Perfect GPA. I’m sure between your chem major and biology minor some giant pharmaceutical company somewhere will have a small fortune and loads of interesting problems for you.” I wasn’t jealous. He and I didn’t roll that way. He may have been chosen and wicked smart but the only thing that bugged me about him was that he had prettier lashes than me. It was always the boys with those camel eyes. So unfair.
I tested the water temperature, shaking droplets off my hand until, satisfied with its magma levels of hot, I pulled the knob up to send the water cascading full blast through the shower head.
Ari mussed my hair. “You’re gonna do something great some day too,” he said. I smacked his hand off of my head. “You just need to find your thing.” He rushed that second sentence as if hoping I wouldn’t remember that I’d found my thing a long time ago and the chances of finding something else I loved as much were pretty slim.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” I pushed him toward the door. “Go keep them from cutting me out of the will. I’ll be there in ten. The picture of respectability.”
Ari snorted. “Don’t strain yourself. I’ll settle for clean.” He sniffed me, fanning in front of his face with a grimace. “Screwing hobos again?”
“College boys. Same, same.” I reached for the belt of my housecoat.
He unlocked the door, half-twisting back to me. “Would you care? If I didn’t do it?”
I paused, belt still tied. “God, no. The few Rasha I ever met were dick-swinging balls of testosterone. Though I’d hoped for your sake some of them were also dick-sucking. Like that smexy Brazilian they brought in last year to train you in Capoeira.”
He failed to appreciate my eyebrow waggle. “Why do I bother?”
King David had realized pretty early on that even if he rid Israel of demons, there was a reason they were part of every culture’s mythology. Demons were an international problem. Since Jerusalem was close to this trade route called the King’s Highway, David sent his band far and wide to find all the best specimens of manhood from various races and religions including Muslims, Egyptians, Phoenicians, Celts, and Thracians to fight the good fight. The Brotherhood was formed.
It was kind of cool to see how far ranging those original bloodlines had travelled into present day. But what wasn’t cool was how serious and stressed my brother was, so I smacked my lips, hell-bent on getting a smile. “Mmm. High quality Brazilian meat.”
Ari made a sound of disgust and whipped my loofah glove at me. I ducked, laughing, and it sailed into my shower. “What? You don’t want a boyfriend? All those butchy men?” I leered at him. “Odds are good there’d be some friends of Dorothy in that crew.”
His lips quirked, despite his best efforts to look stern. “I have no time for dating.”
“Me neither. But I have a whole bunch of sex instead. Something you, my dear older brother, could use. Regular doing of the nasty might loosen you up.”
“I’m loose,” he said, tightening his tie.