The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(47)

Intent on checking my email to see if Dr. Gelman had replied, I headed for the elevator. Both missions –Ari and Samson –had to be completed before we flew home. If Samson wrapped in a few days, that meant the clock had begun to tick in earnest.

Back in my room, I checked my phone to find that she had in fact emailed back. She'd invited me to meet her for breakfast at Café Louvre on Monday morning. I fired off a fast RSVP, then opened the email from Leo entitled "ARE YOU KIDDING?" 

The first link contained tabloid photos of me and Samson dancing. His head was thrown back with a wild grin and my hair splayed out in all directions like an open fan. The headline read "Samson King tears it up with Mystery Brunette." I scanned the captions, but none of them identified me by name.

Yet.

I twisted my ring around, running through the ramifications of the media exposure, and therefore Samson finding out my real name. Even if he already knew there was a female Rasha, he wouldn't connect my name to that person. The Brotherhood kept our identities carefully guarded. Same for any personal information, which I'd hope would keep Ari and my parents out of Samson's reach should he prove a demon. The chances of history repeating itself and Samson going after my brother like Asmodeus had done were slim. Though that didn't mean I wouldn't put a back-up plan in place, just in case.

I scanned some of the other links she'd sent, pausing for a long moment on a photo of Samson stroking his finger over my body paint, a focused expression on his face with the caption "Does the King seek a Queen?"

I phoned Leo. "Queen calling. How many jealous comments am I getting?"

"Eh. Haters gonna hate. Enjoy your fifteen minutes, baby."

"Oh, I will. Though Snowflake is gonna have a coronary when he sees this."

"Points for Snowflake," Leo said. "I don't like you getting close to Samson either."

"No. Rohan gets no points. Fuck buddies do not require nor are eligible for points. Unless they're Frequent Flier." I kicked off the flats Rohan had thoughtfully brought up for me and sank onto the mattress. A highly disappointing sensation after Rohan's bed. "I always knew I'd be famous."

"For tap?" Leo snorted in derision.

I massaged my instep. "I'd rock fame. You know how people always say fame wouldn't change them? Screw that. I'd become impossible. Treating everyone like little people. Reminding them they're not worthy, but would be eligible for worthy-status with the appropriate bribe."

"'Kay, you get you're sounding like Samson, right?" Leo asked.

I switched my massage to my other foot. "All right, yes, but unlike him, I'd leave everyone with a warm glow for having been in my presence, instead of misery, humiliation, and world domination. Nava Katz. The gift that keeps on giving."

"Like herpes," Leo agreed cheerfully. "Speaking of STIs, did you sleep with Samson? Because I recognized that ecstatic look on your face."

"You did. But nope."

"Too busy servicing your rock star last night?"

"That didn't happen either."

She gasped. "Did you displease him? Were you displaced?"

"Since it doesn't get better than me, I was not displaced." Not yet, Cuntessa whispered. I mentally chucked a rock at her head. "I may have displeased, but that's foreplay with us. What's up with you?"

"Explain something to me, and use small descriptive words so I understand. You're on a top secret mission, very thrilling and adrenaline-inducing, with the boy you've been having hot monkey sex with, under the guise of being the girl who is supposed to be having hot monkey sex with him, while being on ecstasy, and there was no sex to be had?"

"Monkey or otherwise. That is correct."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

I stretched out my neck and shoulders. "I was fatigued. Even I need a night off now and then."

"Did you not look at him last night?"

"I did, but I'm wondering how you saw him."

"Photos, d'uh. The paparazzi love Rohan."



       
         
       
        

Putting Leo on speakerphone, I followed the next set of links she texted me. "Rohan's back and more delicious than ever!" read one website. He'd been a busy little beaver last night. No one chick was featured twice in the photos. Commodities indeed.

Please let these photos be the first thing Poppy sees this morning.

I paused over the snaps of Rohan chummy-chummy with Samson. Or, more correctly, Samson chummy with Rohan. I hadn't imagined that look of hatred on his face last night. What was he playing at?