The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(93)

I eeped and held onto the doorframe harder. “Maybe I’ll run into you while I’m there.”

I prayed that Prague was a big enough city that that absolutely would not happen, because with him dressed like this and in full rock god mode, I didn’t stand a chance.

“I’m sticking close to have your back on this assignment.” He skimmed his hand over my hip, the warmth of the black leather strap worn with a single fat silver bracelet on his right wrist brushing against my skin.

“Dressed like that?” I stammered. My heart beat a furious tempo at the clear and present danger of this incarnation of Rohan. I flapped a hand at him. “Surely, you don’t have to go zero to a billion? Start small.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about how you missed dancing like breathing.” His arrogance fell away, leaving a soft vulnerability that hit me harder than the rock god look. “It made me realize that I’d been holding my breath, too. That, after Asha, I hadn’t thought I deserved music in my life.” His gaze turned penetrating. “I hadn’t admitted that to anyone. Not even myself until now. Until you.”

I had to jump start my breathing. “Happy I could help,” I squeaked. I tried to step away but he held me fast. Careful what you wish for, idiot. I swallowed, his raw charisma flooding my system.

“I’m meeting with Forrest about the song. And I wrangled an intro to King. Now I need more of an entourage than just Drio.” He leaned in, his lips hovering over mine. “You were nominated and won as groupie.”

“Mazel tov to me,” I murmured, practically pulling the frame off the wall. My mouth was dry and my brain had gone wonky and stupid in the face of his pure male swagger. Oh, how misguided I’d been with my whole “players and their games” insight I’d had on Rohan.

I hadn’t even begun to see his game because Rohan Mitra had been slumming in the junior league with me. Nope, I was screwed, and this time, I didn’t think I’d get a say in how.

End of Book One





Thank you for reading





Dear fabulous reader,

Thank you for giving me the gift of your time and I hope you’ve enjoyed the beginning of Nava’s journey. These characters are definitely close to my heart (and my inability to say the loud part quiet). I promise you the rest of the series will be a wild ride.

I’ve had so many people fall in love with Nava, Rohan, and the rest of the crew. It’s great hearing your thoughts, so stay in touch.

Now, I have a favor to ask. It’s your reviews that help other readers to find my books. You, the reader, help make or break a book. So please, especially if you want more Nava and Rohan, spread the word. Leave an honest review of The Unlikeable Demon Hunter on Amazon, Goodreads, your blog, etc.

xo

Deborah





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“Shove it in already,” I said through gritted teeth. My back was freezing from the damp, flaking basement concrete I lay against, while the two-foot-tall, rat-shaped demon pinning me down was doing shit for my front.

Rohan Mitra, rock star turned demon hunter, shook his tousled dark hair, his full lips puckering in obvious disgust. “I’m not putting my finger in there. You want it so badly, do it yourself.”

I slammed an elbow into the underside of the vral’s jaw, whiplashing her head sideways, intent on keeping the demon’s double row of razor-sharp incisors out of my shoulder. One bite and I’d be paralyzed.

And lunch.

“Now you’re going to get all pussy about sticking your finger places it doesn’t belong?”

“I’ll reconsider if she begs as nicely as you did, Nava.”

The vral snapped her teeth at me, the sound a loud crack in my ear. Her dank, rotten-meat belch wafted over me.

I tried to plug my nose with my shoulder, my arm muscles straining with the exertion of holding her at bay. “Bite me, Mitra.”

He sipped his latte, standing there immaculate and infuriating in a camel-colored trench coat more appropriate to a night at the theater than a demon raid. A raid it turned out that Rohan had no intention of participating in, deeming it “a training exercise for the newbie.”

Overhead, a bulb sizzled and popped out, dimming the light and casting almost-romantic shadows over the warped structural beams and grotty walls.

Rohan had the gall to check his watch.

“Don’t let me keep you from anything.” I shot lightning bolts at the vral from my eyes and she jerked, her weight almost off me. Hand blasts were so level one. I rolled sideways, but the demon crashed back down on top of me. The two of us tumbled into the shadows.

“Then finish her,” he said.

“I’m trying but I don’t think she’s into me that way.”

Rohan took another sip. “Make her want it.”

Continued grappling with the demon wasn’t going to get me anywhere other than exhausted and then dead. Fine, mostly dead. Rohan wouldn’t let me be unequivocally taken out.