“No idea.” Mahmud’s gaze flickered between us. “You want to tell me what’s really going on?”
“Just trying to understand how it all went balls up,” Ro said.
“Okay.” Mahmud warred with a piece of ebi sushi, sighing as it fell apart on his plate.
“Nava?” Rohan’s voice was pitched low for only me to hear.
The more people in the Brotherhood that found out, the more likelihood there was of the wrong people finding out. Except our team was stymied. Kane had done all he can, my brother wasn’t plugged in enough, and Rohan casually asking guys he trusted about Ferdinand was pointless. He’d restrained himself out of concern for me, because when shit hit the wall–and it was when not if–I’d be the first one the Brotherhood came after.
I’d told Rabbi Abrams and he hadn’t exactly embraced my ideas. I still didn’t know where I stood with him anymore or if he’d reported my suspicions to Mandelbaum. Mahmud seemed nice but he was a total unknown to me. Was the risk of confiding in him worth it? I stirred wasabi into my soya sauce, turning the liquid cloudy. “Tell him.”
Rohan’s hand tightened on mine under the table.
I didn’t take my eyes off Mahmud’s face as Rohan filled him in, searching for a single clue as to his feelings, but he gave away nothing, listening to the tale without interjection. I clenched the linen napkin, my heart stuttering to a stop when, at the end of Ro’s tale, Mahmud trained a dangerous, glittering smile on me.
Was he going to blame me? I let my magic reach my eyes, knowing he’d see the lightning dancing there. “Yes?”
“We’re going to bring these fuckers down. Whatever you need. However I can help. I’m yours.”
“Phrasing,” Rohan said, breaking the tension. “Jeez, Mahmud, don’t steal all the beautiful women in the restaurant. This one’s mine.”
Mahmud winked at me. “I’m all yours,” he said. He picked up some sashimi without having to stab it onto his chopstick, then blinked at it, surprised. “All right then.”
Mahmud didn’t have much other information to give us. He hadn’t known Ferdinand, but he had known a couple of the dead Rasha and swore there was nothing suspicious about them. He promised to follow up with their families in case there was anything to learn there.
Rohan insisted on paying for the meal. We walked Mahmud outside and he signaled for a taxi.
As the cab pulled up to the curb, Mahmud turned to Rohan. “There’s one person who might be able to tell you about Ferdinand. Same peer group and shit. Zahir.”
Rohan gave him a searching look. “You sure?”
Mahmud shrugged. “I wouldn’t name drop me, but yeah. Try him. Last I heard he was based in Paris.” Mahmud opened the back door to the cab, then kissed my hand. “Delightful Nava, I look forward to our next meeting.”
“You charmer.” I grinned at him. “Thanks, Mahmud. Really.”
He rolled his shoulders like it was nothing. “I always believed that being Rasha meant having each other’s backs.” Something flickered over his face and he raised his troubled eyes to Rohan’s. “I just didn’t expect the enemy to be so close to home.”
Rohan couldn’t stop stealing touches all the way home.
At a stoplight, he’d sneak his hand from the clutch to just barely on my knee. At a crosswalk, he’d ghost it up. And up, and up. As the sun set and turned the glass condo towers gold, his nimble fingers edged around the line of my underwear. When we only barely missed a very angry old lady crossing a residential street, I decided that vehicular manslaughter via horny boyfriend was not, in fact, something I needed to experience.
“Who’s Zahir?” I said, smoothing my dress back to a pristine sleekness.
“Mahmud’s dad. They haven’t spoken in about five or six years, but he’s Rasha too. In his fifties and still kicking around.” Fifties was old age in our line of work. It was too depressing to contemplate.
Ro glided his hand along the base of my bare spine.
I twisted away from his touch, but the persistent boy failed to take the hint and leaned into me while still driving, so I scooted closer to him, prioritizing our collective safety. Also, I was weak and wanted those fizzy shivers as he stroked my skin. “You think he’ll have any insights into Ferdinand’s death?”
Rohan stopped the car at Demon Club’s front iron gate, set into a stone fence, to be scanned. He leaned across the gearshift and, cradling my head between his hands, took my mouth with the force of tossing gas on a fire. I grabbed his shirt and pulled him to me, feverishly kissing him. Ro bit my bottom lip and I moaned. He grinned against my mouth. “I like how we fit together.”
Dizzy, I clutched at him but only got empty air as he gunned the car up the drive.
“You were saying?” he said with a smug grin.
I was? His smugness amplified. I couldn’t let that stand so I racked my brain and eventually found where I’d left off. “If Ferdinand had been killed on a mission, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But a car crash? I don’t like the timing or coincidence of it.” I had personal experience with the Brotherhood masking suspicious deaths with car crashes à la Samson King in Prague.
Rohan parked, cut the engine, and turned to me, his eyes hot. “Know what else I don’t like?”
I licked my lips, remembered that wasn’t an answer and shook my head.
“Making me sit through dinner, watching you in that dress. Cruel.”
“You’ve been copping feels all the way home.”
“It’s not enough.”
I snickered, but when he slammed his precious car’s door in his haste to get me inside, I may have set a new record for speed-walking in heels.
We barely made it into his bedroom before, mouth on mine, he pressed me back against the wall. His teeth dragged over my lower lip before his tongue slipped inside. He trailed his finger blades over my shoulder and bare back, just enough to leave faint marks that I’d shiver staring at in the bathroom mirror later.
Sliding my hand under his shirt, I skimmed my fingers along the ridges of his sculpted abs. He retracted his blades and I broke the kiss to draw his fingers into my mouth, my tongue swirling around each one in turn. Pinching his nipples with my other hand, I rubbed my bare thigh up his leg. His sigh rumbled over me.
A furious ache built to a throbbing pulse inside me.
Rohan sucked on my neck and I tilted my head to give him better access to the sensitive skin. He caressed my cheek with the back of his hand, pinning me with this filthy eye-fuck that made my stomach flutter. “Wrap your legs around me.”
The position left Cuntessa flush against his hard cock, my dress hiked up around my waist. I thrust against him with a blissful moan, pushed my fingers into his hair, raking back his dark wavy locks, and slanted my mouth over his. His answering kiss was hot, hungry, and knifed straight into my soul.
I rocked my hips, my head thrown back against the wall.
“Slow down, sweetheart.” Rohan ran his fingers idly along my spine, his touch sizzling against my bare skin. “On your knees.” His voice was low and dirty.