The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(46)

It winged me in the gut.

“Fuuuhhhck.” I ran after her but she’d raced into the bathroom and slammed the door. “You used me for my brother?” I jiggled the knob but it didn’t turn so I tried ramming it with my shoulder. Still nothing. Lola had surprisingly good bones.

I pounded on the door. “Come out here and face me, you demon coward.”

“Who said I was a demon?”

“Nice try.”

She pounded on the door back at me. “Stop pounding!”

My hand was getting red. I considered blasting the door open but didn’t want to risk sending all of Lola up in flame. That didn’t stop me threatening to do it if Leo didn’t open up.

“You pyro cow!” she screeched.

“Practice for what I’ll do to your manipulative goblin ass as soon as you unlock this door.” I kicked the wood.

“I can stay in here all night,” she tossed out in a self-righteous tone.

I pulled a chair up close, straddling it backwards. “As if. You can’t go two hours without food.”

“I didn’t use you for Ari. I didn’t even know you existed at first.”

“Because that makes it so much better.” My heart pounded in my ears. Our entire friendship was a lie. It wasn’t that she’d hidden her goblin status from me, or that as a demon, she’d infiltrated my family to spy on my brother, though those ranked close seconds on things I was pissed about. The thing that hurt the most, that knotted my guts and strung my chest tight, was that our friendship hadn’t even been real, just another means to an end in the ongoing demon-Rasha war.

I don’t know how long we sat there in silence, me white-knuckling the top of the chair. Long enough for Cat Tongue to hit round two with his bed partner in the next room. Long enough for my hurt to harden into rage.

Long enough for Leo to say, miserably, “I’m hungry.”

“Then come out,” I answered in my sweetest voice.

There was a pause before she spoke. “How are you Rasha anyway? Your balls finally drop and you realized your pathetic rack was really flabby manboobs?”

I kicked the door, relishing her yelp. “I prefer Fallen Angel. My hot badassery could no longer go unrecognized.”

Her snort sounded like an asthmatic donkey. Hearing it again, I almost laughed. Almost. “You can’t kill me,” she said. “Goblin or not, I’m still the one who leant you my favorite shirt for your first date with Stefan and held your hair when you puked your guts out later because he was such a dickhole.”

She totally had. “Had you actually been my friend during that time, those points would count in your favor,” I snottily replied.

The door flew open. Leonie hopped out, a tiny ball of fury, and winged a roll of toilet paper at me. “There may have been a few facts I left out about my personal history but I was totally your friend. You dumped me. You stopped calling me.” She crossed her arms, her chin jutting out.

That was kind of true, too. “You were spying on my brother.” I stroked my chin. “No wonder you always had to pluck your chin hairs. I thought you were part goat, but it was just your goblin heritage.”

Leo covered her chin. “Take it back. You know I’m sensitive about that.”

I bleated at her.

She smacked me. That’s when it descended into the worst of catfights.

It was official. I sucked as a demon hunter.





12





Half an hour later, Leo sported a split lip and my scalp was raw from the hair that she’d pulled out, but we’d exhausted our pent-up resentments and called an uneasy truce. We made our way to our favorite diner, the only conversation in the car being Leo’s comment that my dad’s taste in music still sucked balls.

The Chesterton had gone hipster in the year and a half or so since we’d last been here. Gone were the abundance of spidery ferns and the mini jukeboxes at each booth. Now, a DJ spun electronica in one corner, while an open kitchen showcased the tattooed staff making hand-scratch food and baked goods. At least I didn’t have to suffer through the misery of a communal table. A blessing upon the crippling cost of gut-job renos that kept this place from complete desecration.

I studied the collection of kitschy salt and pepper shakers on shelves running the length of one wall, searching for a safe topic of conversation because I wasn’t sure how to dive back into the shark-infested waters of our hemorrhaging friendship.

“Leonie? Nava? Ohmigod!”

We both winced at the squeal from the cash register. “Back Rub” Bailey was our high school’s most popular everything, with a tendency to get touchy-feely when she got drunk. Bailey was also the sweetest person who ever lived. I think she bottle-fed endangered baby seals in her spare time. Leo and I were just such cynical twats that she grated on us.

But we pasted bright smiles on our faces and gave the requisite hugs.

“What are you guys up to?” she asked.

“Crim major,” Leo said.

“Got some things on the go,” I replied.

That earned me a pity smile. “That’s great.”

I nodded gamely. “What about you?”

“I’m dancing with Ballet BC now!”

My smile wavered. Bailey was a bunhead and as determined to make it with her dance career as I’d been. “I’m happy for you.” I wasn’t petty enough to be catty since it was ballet. Had she been a tapper, shanking may have been involved.