The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(78)

"Gotta run. See you both later." Rohan disconnected.

Drio nudged me with his shoulder. "Put this out of your mind. Go pretty up. Ro performing?" He whistled. "A lot of women wanting a piece of that. You'll want to look good."

"He can do what he likes."

"Yeah, sure. You're both free agents." He snorted.

I shot him the finger and went to get my glam on.



The production had rented out a large, stylish art deco lounge with a plush interior for the wrap party. Everyone glittered, ready and willing to have a good time.

I wore a midnight blue sheath dress that hit below my knees and hugged my curves –very pin-up girl. Mesh connected the sweetheart neckline to sequined blue fabric around my throat and arms. I'd paired it with what I termed my dominatrix heels: four-inch red stilettos lacing up the front that I'd found in an exclusive shop near the hotel. My hair was pulled back into a sleek bun at the nape of my neck and I had on very little make-up other than mascara and red lips.

I looked chic and confident, a taste-maker. Exactly how Samson needed to see me tonight. Just Samson? I ignored my bitch of an inner voice. The wrap party was my only chance to get the demon to agree to meet me tomorrow and I wasn't about to blow it with self-doubt. Rohan would be busy performing, which probably wouldn't endear him to Samson, and it would be odd for Drio to ask Samson for a meeting, which meant this was all on me.

I wandered through the space, taking in the curved built-in booths and tin ceiling, and making it all the way to where a DJ spun tunes on a low stage without any sign of my team. For a while I was content to hang out by the bar, people watching, letting the music and loud chatter wash over me. Watching Samson's group with particular interest.

Decked out in a flashy suit, the demon held court, standing in the middle of a group wanting to bask in his magnificence. That wasn't sarcasm, most of the people around him wore expressions of slight desperation, smiling too broadly at whatever he said. Jostling each other to stand next to him.

Samson put his drink on the high bar table beside him but when he reached for it again, it was gone. I hadn't seen a waiter take it away. He frowned, studying everyone in his vicinity but they all held wineglasses as opposed to his highball.



       
         
       
        

Samson excused himself, headed toward me. Well, toward the bar, his progress hampered by everyone wanting a word. I finally intercepted him, holding out the drink I'd procured. "This is me saying sorry, and hoping you'll let me bribe you into forgiving me for acting like a complete weirdo earlier."

He didn't answer me or take the drink, so I placed it on the bar. "When I kissed you?" I shivered. "You made me feel things and I freaked. Forgive me?" I tilted my head, my eyes wide.

"You're not in the clear yet." He looked down for the drink but once again, it was gone. His lips compressed into thin white lines.

Wanting his attention on me instead of some overly enthusiastic server who was removing glasses with invisible aplomb, I ran a hand over his arm. "I want to make it up to you." I looked at him through my lashes, running my finger along his chest. "I know you're busy tonight and everyone is gonna want a piece of you. Tomorrow. Meet me."

Still nothing.

I caught his hand, playing my last card. "Please. I can give you what you want to make Rohan hurt. Who you want. Just don't let one mistake ruin everything for me."

Samson nodded. "Text me the details."

I kept a relieved smile on my face as he moved over to the bartender to place an order. Mission accomplished. My gamble that the one thing that would convince him was Lolita's burning desire for the spotlight, combined with her insider knowledge of all things Rohan had paid off. The fact everything I'd said was a lie wouldn't matter so long as he showed.

Speaking of Rohan, I needed to find him. The kiss epiphany had freaked me out to the point of paralysis. In the same way that people who were afraid of spiders were given tarantulas to hold to desensitize them to their fears, I needed to see him and remind myself that there was only one thing I wanted from him.

I spotted Anya standing hand-in-hand with a willowy redhead, so went over to say hello. She introduced me to her girlfriend Fiona, who had a posh British accent.

"Have you seen Rohan?" I asked. "The guy who is supposed to perform tonight."

Anya shook her head but Fiona lit up. "I saw him. Wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers." Anya stared at her girlfriend incredulously but Fiona simply tossed her hair. "Please. He's yummy." She winked at me.