The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(14)

My stomach growled, interrupting my investigation. I stretched out my neck and shoulders deciding this was as good a time as any to take a break and headed downstairs into the kitchen to make dinner. Buttered toast and a glass of juice coming right up.

I drummed my fingers on the dark granite countertop waiting for the toast to pop. When it did, I flipped each piece over to examine them, before turning them back over once more.

"Whatever are you doing?" Rohan pulled a bag of pre-cut veggies out of the industrial-sized, stainless steel fridge in the wall of white cabinets.

"Checking for the right-side-up," I said.

"On bread?"

I flipped the piece over for him in show-and-tell fashion. "When you slice bread, that results in a right-side-up and wrong-side-up. Like wood grains. It's important to butter the toast on the correct side."

"Or what? Solar eclipse? Tides out of whack?"

"General fuckery ensues. You can't be eating upside-down bread, Snowflake." I munched on my toast, watching as he chopped up garlic and ginger then fried them up in a pan. "How come you don't just use your own blades to cut the stuff?"

"Because my blades are weapons, not cutlery."

I rolled my eyes. "Sorry." My stomach growled again. "That smells good."

Rohan pulled out a bunch of dried spices from a cupboard. "It'll taste good, too."

He handled the chopping knife with ease and I drank in his relaxed stance with just a frisson of danger in how fast he used the blade. Stubble scruffed along his jaw, and the shadows on his face shifted as he took a sip of wine. It was a good look for him. The look of a guy cooking his date dinner. Satisfying her before he satisfied her.

I dropped my toast on the plate, its taste suddenly lacking. Picking up the wine bottle, I grabbed an empty juice glass and sloshed the liquid in.

Rohan closed his eyes briefly in pain.

"Do we have any photos of Evelyn and Samson together?" The spicy wine hit my palette and went down real smooth. All righty. Liquid dinner it was.

"Yeah. In the red folder in the library. Why?"

"Evelyn possessed a different beauty than the women Samson surrounded himself with, but she'd also been a part of his life for longer than anyone else we could find. I want to know if her feelings were reciprocated, let alone if my love theory is even correct."



       
         
       
        

"What we have won't help you. They're mostly set photos documenting them working together."

"Damn. Still, I'll check them out." I poured more wine. "Drio might have a point about not talking. Or rather, not appearing too smart in front of Samson."

"That's a safe assumption." Rohan plated the veggies, going back to the fridge for one final item.

"Cilantro? It doesn't need it," I said through a forkful of stir fry.

Rohan lunged for me, wrestling the fork away. "Make your own dinner."

"But yours is so –" I squealed. "No tickling!" Of course that just amped him up further. Silly boy didn't realize that I'd had years of practice suppressing my laughter in such situations, thanks to Ari's merciless tickle torture. Half-bent over, I bit down on my lip, grateful that Rohan attacked from behind and couldn't see my strained expression. "Doesn't even affect me."

"You're a dirty liar," he whispered, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my neck.

I dropped the square ceramic plate on the counter. "More a dirty exaggerator." I tried –and failed –to suppress the shiver that racked my body at the touch of his lips under my ear. I turned in his arms, smoothing the pulse beating in his throat with my finger. Feeling the smooth, soft patch right under the rasp of his jaw-line stubble, like a secret that only I knew. "Wanna really exert yourself over me?"

He pressed his forehead against mine. "I have to go to the studio. Put in some song time."

"It's okay." I patted his cheek as he released me. "Will you be working late?"

"Probably." His regret was genuine.

I picked up my wine, heading for the library and the photos of Evelyn when Rohan pressed the plate of stir fry into my hands. "Eat, Lolita."

I smiled, then gasped. Lolita. That was it. I raced off with my food, the pieces of my plan falling into place.





4





Best teacher I've ever had, but make one dumb mistake and she'll eviscerate you, wrote a commenter on ratemyprofessor. I scrolled through the other comments for Dr. Gelman and found similar sentiments. Her academic page at Ben Gurion University in Be'er-Sheva, Israel was populated with lists and lists of her articles on climate change, and her photo showed a woman in her mid-sixties with leathery olive skin, white streaking her black hair, and a no-nonsense expression.