The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(49)

While Leo hadn’t been able to tell me what type of demon Samson was or even that there was any actual confirmation of his evil status since he was that sneaky, she did tell me that she’d heard he had spent time in France. I passed the information on now.

Given how Rohan flattened his lips, he didn’t expect that. His expression as I told him what I learned was priceless, cycling through suspicion, disbelief, a momentary flash of impressed approval–which I savored–before veering back to suspicion.

“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You managed to find a demon informant who happened to have this knowledge and was willing to give it to you, when Xiaoli could get nothing?”

I nodded.

“You got the intel how?” He smirked at me.

“Not like that, you pig.”

“I want to talk to him.”

“No!”

“No?” Rohan’s voice was a deadly calm. He braced his hand against the car roof, trapping me.

Oy vey. I was walking a serious subordination line here but I couldn’t let him get to Leo. “This informant could prove a valuable resource. He trusts me. You guys go storming in and scare him and that’ll be the end of it. It can’t hurt to check out what I’ve said. If it turns out to be a crock of shit, then we know not to trust the goblin.”

I crossed my fingers behind my back, keeping my gaze steady until he gave a sharp nod. “I had one other thought,” I said.

“Give me a minute to brace myself.”

“Since Mommy and Daddy demon probably didn’t name their bundle of joy Samson, there has to be a reason he chose it. Does the obvious biblical connection get us anywhere?”

Rohan raised an eyebrow. “Us? Did I miss the memo where you were assigned to this mission?”

“Wouldn’t you rather have me occupied in a productive manner?”

He looked doubtful at that, but answered me. “We checked out that possibility ages ago. Nothing correlates. But you’re thinking along the right lines,” he added begrudgingly. “However, you’re done fact-finding for tonight. Fact-finding entirely where Samson is concerned. He’s dangerous and I don’t want him getting even an inkling that you’re looking into him.”

“Aw. You care.” I ducked out from under his arm.

“Yeah. About you blowing all my hard work. Got it?”

“Got it.” I headed up the front walk. “See? Going upstairs now.”

He stood there, watching me. “No more sneaking out.”

“Promise.”

I’d tested my limits with Rohan and thus the Brotherhood. Any more unauthorized dealings on my part would undermine my plan and possibly lead to my “retirement” by Demon Club. No, I was smart enough to quit while I was ahead.

There would be no more sneaking out tonight.

This time, when I left the house again about twenty minutes later, I did it pretty blatantly. No way was I jumping out windows in my black three-inch stilettos with the hot pink soles–my one pop of color, save for my equally hot pink lips. Despite the warm weather we’d been having, this early in March it was still a bit too cold to go jacketless, but a coat would have ruined my overall effect and besides, the peaked nipple look really accessorized the outfit.

I sashayed down my front stairs, making a silent bet as to whether I’d make it to the taxi idling at the curb before Rohan found me or if I’d have to go find him first.

His hand clamped on mine before I was halfway down the walk, spinning me around. “Where do you think you’re–”

He choked like he’d swallowed his tongue. Highly gratifying.

I pinched his cheek like a maiden aunt. “We’re going out.”

Not only had I almost died today, I’d also made some very good progress. A treat was in order and a cookie wasn’t going to cut it. Balls, babes, and booze it was.

It took a moment for Rohan to register that I’d spoken since he was too busy staring at the silky scrap of black fabric I called a dress. “You should be in bed,” he said.

I leaned in close, my orangey perfume teasing the air around us. “Mmm, I should. The question is, with who?”

The taxi driver honked.

“My chariot awaits.” I tugged my arm free. “I expect demons will be after me soon and I’m not going to be shut up like a nun for the rest of my life. Now,” I strode toward the cab, forcing Rohan to follow me. “I’m off to play pool and get exceedingly drunk.” I opened the back door and slid in. “Coming?”

He squatted down out of view of the cabbie and flicked out one of his finger blades. “I could make you stay.”

I crossed my bare legs, tantalizingly slow. “Do your worst.”

He flicked out another blade.

“In or out?” the pudgy cabbie asked.

Grumbling, Rohan shoved me over, got into the cab, and slammed the door shut.

I laughed. “Neon Paradise,” I told the driver. It was my favorite club boasting reasonable-ish priced drinks, pool tables, a low douchebag to normal guy ratio, and good music.

The cabbie grunted in confirmation.

Other than the Bhangra music on the stereo, the ride was pretty quiet. My smile widened with each block away from home. This was the best part of going out, when infinite possibility stretched out before me.