Twice in two days Rohan had pulled out a talent I’d had no idea he had.
Irritating, old-timey music on a loop grew louder as a colorful ice cream van pulled up to the curb. I jogged over, waiting patiently for the group of teens ahead of me to get their bounty, and ordered an orange Popsicle, since Leo had been a brat about me getting anything when we’d stopped at the store on our drive back to her place.
“I should get my boyfriend something.” Wallet in hand, I scanned the menu board tacked up next to the order window while the bubbly blonde manning the truck flaked off her mint green nail polish.
I had no clue what Rohan liked.
He knew pretty much everything about me but the reverse wasn’t true. Admittedly, our couple status was new but it wasn’t like our relationship was. We’d been dancing around each other from day one. I was closer to Rohan than anyone other than Ari and Leo but how well did I really know him? How well was he letting me? We’d fought together, he had my back, but some of the basics were blank spaces. Cole and I had known everything about each other before we started dating, and Lily was well versed in Rohan 101.
I knew the stuff that mattered, didn’t I? And I could make educated guesses on the rest of it. I scanned the menu for the most boring ice cream I could find. “A Revello, please.” I collected my change and the purchases, heading back toward the park.
“Hey!” Rohan rode after a fleeing Elliot.
Stuffing my wallet back into my pocket, I unwrapped my orange Popsicle and took that first sugar-infused taste. Mmmm.
Elliot skated by and, without missing my next lick, I kicked him in the kneecaps. He flew off his board and crashed onto the grass, rolling twice. The board shot forward, pinged off a lamppost and rolled into the gutter. Elliot groaned, flopped out on his back.
I pinned him in place, leaning my scuffed-up sneaker on a pressure point on the side of his left calf, immobilizing him.
He choked out a pained gasp.
Rohan arrived, kicking his board up to stop. “Nice.”
“Thanks.”
Rohan squatted down. “Where did you get the Sweet Tooth?”
“Fuck. You.”
“Listen, Elliot,” Rohan said. “I’m not here to narc you out. But this shit is dangerous and I want it off the streets.”
Elliot’s cheek was all road-rashy from the fall. His shaggy hair hung in his eyes in sweaty clumps. He was stinky, clearly in pain, and not about to talk.
“Ro,” I said softly, shaking my head. My Vulcan immobilizer trick wasn’t doing it and we couldn’t seriously hurt him. Even if he was sixteen and dealing drugs, I was full up on menacing the underaged.
Rohan stood up, reaching for his wallet. “We’ll pay you for the info.”
“I don’t need cash,” Elliot boasted.
“Because you’re a drug dealing little shit,” I said. “No surprise there. What exactly do you want?”
He eyed me speculatively. “Lemme see your tits.”
I leaned harder on the pressure point.
“Fuuuuck!”
“I’d say that was her counter-offer. Is that ice cream for me?” Rohan asked.
“Oh yeah. Revello good?” I handed it over.
“If there’s no Cornetto? Sure.”
There. I could figure Ro out, no problem.
“Tits,” Elliot ground out.
I lifted my foot off of him. “You useless cliché. No. But I will give you jerk-off material.”
Elliot scrambled to his feet, smartly keeping half his attention on Ro, who munched on his Revello with the blandest of all poker faces.
I teased my lip to the tip of the Popsicle. Rohan raised his eyebrows, his gold eyes dancing, but my focus was absolute. I gave the Popsicle the best ten-second blow job in the history of mankind.
Rohan barked a laugh. “I knew Lolita was still in there.”
I popped my lips off the icy sugar stick and stuck my orange tongue out at him.
“Dude,” Elliot said, holding out a fist bump to Ro.
“Excuse me?” I bit into the Popsicle and Elliot flinched. “Why does he get the fist bump? He is in no way responsible.”
“Her mouth is a marvel,” Rohan added.
“Thanks, babe.”
Rohan fist bumped the kid, winking at me. “Dealer. Name. Now.”
“Candyman,” Elliot said. I boffed him across the top of the head. He rubbed it. “I’m not shitting you,” he said. “That’s the only name I know.”
“Too bad.” Rohan’s voice was cold.
“Bad for you.” Elliot pulled a switchblade out of his pocket, flicking it open. “We’re done.”
Rohan laughed, but it was dark and held no hint of humor. He disarmed Elliot in a flash, dancing the blade over his knuckles while the kid was still gaping at him. “Not ’til I say so. How do we find him?”
Elliot swallowed and stepped back from Rohan. “I’m waaay too lowly to be allowed in his presence. I deal with middle management.”
“Great.” Rohan flipped the knife into his hand, blade casually pointed at Elliot. “Describe this middle man and where we can find him.”
“That’s sexist,” Elliot said. “He’s a she.” He threw me a chin nod, like he’d just earned some level of solidarity with me.
“Hashtag feminism.” Idiot.
Five minutes later, Rohan released Elliot with a promise that if he continued dealing, their next meeting wouldn’t go so well.
“Do I get my blade back?” Elliot held out his hand.
Rohan smirked. “You wanna take it from me?”
Elliot fled.
Ro snapped the blade in half. “What a piece of shit. Guaranteed that kid would have stabbed himself with it.”
Our middle woman, Aida, was a wreta, a demon with a crescent-shaped birthmark that was mostly likely the same wreta we’d met back when we were tracking Asmodeus. She’d been close to killing off some poor guy thanks to this highly addictive hallucinatory secretion of hers. I doubted her discharge was the basis for Sweet Tooth, but there were plenty of other crimes she could answer for.
Since this demon liked to come out at night, we had a few hours to kill.
I threaded my arm through Rohan’s. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
I pointed up at the roller coaster visible from the skatepark. “It’s one of the few remaining wooden coasters in the world. You shouldn’t miss it while you’re here.”
“Okay.” Not exactly the “I’ll be around for ages and we can ride it any time” answer I’d been hoping for.
We cut through the gardens, looping around to Playland’s colorful front gates.
“Where’s the diamond?” Ro asked.
“Locked up tight in the trunk.” We’d give it to Rabbi Abrams to dispose of.