The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(34)

Neatly stacked sheet music lay on top of the black baby grand that dominated the living room. I peeked at the handwritten notations but Rohan flipped the stack over so I couldn't see what he was working on.

"It's why I stay here," he said.

"If there was a hotel with a tap floor, I'd be so there." I plucked out "Twinkle Twinkle."

Rohan took my lame one-fingered attempt at the tune and upped it, turning the simple nursery rhyme into a haunting melody for a few bars. His strong, elegant fingers flowed over the keys.

I clapped my appreciation.

The modern décor of the lobby continued here in the sleek lines and sharp whites paired with bright pops of accent colors. A large abstract print took up much of one wall. My eyes bounced to the curtains, now closed, and blocking any potential view. Like that of Prague laid out before us. I bit my lip, shutting down any lustful urges with a stern mental directive that tonight was a work night.

"Did Samson want to hang out for a reason or was this a play date?" I asked.

Rohan closed the cover on the keys. "King offered me a recording contract." He laughed at the dumbfounded look on my face. "Yeah. I have no clue either. I'm certain I'm being set up for something, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what it is yet."

"Maybe we'll learn more tonight."

"Hope so." Still seated at the piano bench, Rohan jerked a finger up and down indicating my attire, then shook his head. "Scratch that. Start with what you were up to last night."

I caught him up on what Rabbi Abrams had asked me to do as well as the entire Gelman encounter, speeding through the zmey and troll part, since there seemed to be a direct correlation between that section of the story and the muscle jumping in his jaw.

When I came to the end of the recap, Rohan frowned. "Amazing. In a month, you have me stepping back into the limelight despite swearing up and down never to do it, and get one of the most company men I've ever met going behind the Brotherhood's back."

I gave him an arch look and he held up his hands. "Just that good. I know," he said.

I waited but he didn't say anything else. I jabbed him. "Where's my growl that I'm behaving recklessly? Going off on my own to do something that has nowhere near the importance of this assignment?"



       
         
       
        

He crossed his legs at the ankles. "You saved me the trouble."

"Can't shut down a rabbi's order to me either, can you?"

He scratched his cheek with his middle finger. "I promise to growl if I don't like what this new look is all about." His voice dropped lower. "Though I'm not sure that's a punishment with you." He watched me with a banked heat.

"Down, boy." I straightened my shoulders and moved away, putting two chairs and a low coffee table between us.

He smirked but let it alone.

Snapping my fingers, I sank onto the sofa. "Drink me."

"Wine?"

"Please."

Rohan uncorked a bottle, holding it up for my approval.

"My favorite kind," I said.

"Merlot?"

"Open." I waited until I had a glass in my hands to explain the sunburst. "When I went to get the supplies for Gelman, I came across this tattoo parlor with a sun on the sign. It's the same design that Louis XIV branded himself with all over Versailles."

The bottle hit the counter harder than warranted.

I drank some wine. It didn't burn like rotgut, so a good vintage. "I saw it and had this overwhelming sense of rightness. I had to get the design."

The jumping jaw muscle was back, but the boy showed remarkable restraint by not speaking. Or locking me into handcuffs. Ooh. Handcuffs.

I forced my thoughts to stay work appropriate. "Up until his retirement weirdness, Samson positioned himself as the sun at the center of the universe and encouraged people with crap lives to fly as close as they could. He pulled the old, ‘I'm bright. I'm shiny. Ignore the part where I'm a giant ball of flame that can destroy you.' Well, I'm going to turn the tables on him. Pose as a descendent of old Lou and match Samson's ambition. Because really," I stretched an arm out along the top of the sofa, "even an alleged power-hungry demon needs a consort."

Rohan dropped down beside me. "So you upgraded yourself from bait to queen."

I smiled at him and sipped my wine.

He raked a hand through his hair. "I want to know what you're up to at all times."

I choked on my drink. "You mean I have your permission?"

"Begrudging, but yes." He took my glass, knocking back a long slug, before pressing it back into my hand. "This is a bold move. It might be the thing to crack Samson's facade. Spin it as wanting to get signed by his management company. Figure out what he's up to from that angle." Rohan stared at the sunburst for another brief, intense moment, then snorted. "Jesus."