I clapped my hands over my boobs as if protecting their delicate sensibilities from his cruelty. "I'll cop to a forty-five, fifty-five spread. And for that insult, you can forget handling these fine representations of womanhood ever again."
Rohan leaned forward and said, nowhere near soft enough for only me to hear, "Tonight."
"Will you do it?" Drio asked Rohan in his Italian-accented English.
"Of course not," I said hotly. "And you're dead wrong if you don't think I get a say."
Drio paused and arched a single elegant eyebrow.
Rohan stifled a laugh. "He means Child's Play." The massive rock concert slated to happen in London next month to raise funds for war orphans.
Ah.
Drio kicked my chair like an obnoxious ten-year-old, which was several years higher than his actual emotional age.
"You got invited?" I swayed at the thought of being backstage with all that rock royalty, since I'd be happy to accompany Rohan as his groupie on that jaunt. My mental list of which rock stars I wanted to meet –and screw –was assembled at light speed. A brief fun escape from more serious matters.
Rohan reached out to steady me with one hand. "Never gonna happen." Spoilsport. "Forrest hoped I'd premiere the theme song there, but it won't be ready."
I'd once read in a years-old interview that when Rohan Mitra got inspired the song flowed out of him all at once. He'd race to write the words down and then he'd tap out beats and hum strings to himself until he had a skeleton he could share with the band to build off of. It'd happen in a day, like a spirit being raised from the dead or lightning being channeled from the heavens, something so powerful you had to do it all at once to do it well.
Given the flatness in his eyes, there was more to his refusal to premiere it than its lack of completion. "You don't want to get back into things at that level, do you?"
He didn't answer. He'd eschewed the musical spotlight once he'd become Rasha. Fame and his own rock star ego had done a number on him, and when his beloved cousin had needed him, he'd failed to save her from demons. Enter his own inner ones. Or rather, more of his inner demons given the lyrics to some of his songs. To the point that he'd tattooed a heart on his left bicep as a reminder of his failure and of his character shortcomings whilst famous.
The tattoo lay directly in line with where his outline blade snicked out. Every time he used his power, the heart got slashed. Even that metaphor wasn't enough. Nope, in further penance, he'd stopped singing. Yet, a week ago, Rohan had stepped back into the rock star role for the sake of the mission.
At my request.
I wiped my damp palms on my jeans.
"Selfish bastard," Drio said. But he didn't push it. He was fiercely loyal to Rohan, but not out of friendship's sake alone. It was the kind of loyalty that stemmed from something else, something dark and volatile. I wasn't sure what the deal between them was yet, because I'd been busy killing demons and saving Ari and stuff, but mark my words, I was going to find out.
"Now that I'm going to Prague, what's the next step?" I asked. Was there any other way I could help bring down Samson?
"We need hard proof that King is a demon," Drio began.
"I know. Either catching him in the act of using his demon influence or getting him to reveal his true form. Yes, Drio, I've been paying attention at our meetings the past few days."
He peered at me. "Hard to tell how much functioning intelligence is in there."
I kicked at his leg but he moved it before I got near and I ended up smacking my toes on the wooden leg of the chair that he now sat on.
"I still think our best bet is to discover Samson's true name," Rohan said. "We could use that to force the reveal of his demon self."
The way Drio's eyes lit up at that possibility convinced me that method would be incredibly painful for Samson.
"What's the other way?" I asked, massaging my bruised foot.
Rohan snapped the TV off, taking the pearly white smile of some schmo in a coffee ad with it. "Depending on his demon type, he might revert back to his original form under extreme emotion."
"Like Josh before he came." Josh was the first demon I'd ever killed, and boy, finding out his true nature had been a shocker. For him, literally.
Rohan looked at me, his gold eyes sparking with amusement. Damn. Really needed to think before I said the quiet part loud.
Drio mimed jerking off at me. "Feel free to use that technique again."
"Regret you can't get close to Samson that way?"