“Even if I’m not Rasha?”
“You’re making this either or.” He tugged on my hamsa ring. “We were always told that this ring was a covenant with the Brotherhood, but maybe the fact you could be a witch and it still doesn’t come off means that it’s a covenant with the greater fight against evil. Wherever evil is to be found. And you, Nava Katz, seem to be leading the charge.”
I scowled at him. “How am I supposed to stay mad at you when you say things like that?”
He pulled his shirt back on with a wince. “You can’t. I’m perfect.”
True. Even with all his issues, Rohan was pretty damn great and thoroughly comfortable in his own skin. Me, on the other hand? Growing up, I’d had such a clear sense of myself. There were the jocks, the bunheads, the drama kids, and me, the tapper and Ari’s twin. Eventually, my identity had expanded to include being Cole’s girlfriend since we were joined at the hip.
When I’d lost two of those three, I’d floundered. Neither had been my choice to walk away from like Rohan leaving the band. I’d crafted the only identity I could to keep the hurt and loss at bay. The one way to feel like I had any say in my own existence. Then once again, I didn’t. I was told I was Rasha and that was that. Even worse, no one, from my parents through to Rabbi Abrams and the other Rasha were happy about it. I was some freak they’d all gotten stuck with.
That’s why I’d been so determined to get Ari by my side. Not just because this was his destiny, but because if I’d lost him, lost that one final essential link to myself… I exhaled and tipped back the rest of my drink.
I’d been fighting for so long and I’d just gotten to the point where I could breathe. I had allies and I’d adjusted to my new life as a hunter. Now it seemed I wasn’t the only girl at the party: I was some second-rate witch at best and some weird mutant at worst.
Outside the window, all was gray. There was no horizon to orient myself. I shivered, telling myself that I’d be on terra firma again soon.
“Do you think David was covering up his fuck-up?” Rohan was examining Malik’s painting.
I got him a fresh ice pack, cracking it to activate it, and pressed it against his ribs over the gauze taped there, the edges shiny with ointment. “How so?”
“This painting basically states that he fathered Asmodeus.” Rohan took over ice pack duty. “That he slept with this demon Mahlat. What if the reason he struck the deal with witches to create Rasha wasn’t out of some noble desire to kill all demons, but to have a handpicked team to clean up his mess?”
“Yikes. It’s entirely possible. Oh! The lovers.” I raced for the carry-on and pulled out our laptop. “The second part of that prophecy. ‘Tick tock goes the clock, the lovers reunite.’” I jotted down my thoughts as fast as I could type, which wasn’t all that fast with my bandaged hands
“David and Mahlat are the original lovers. Rasha and demon.” I tapped a finger against my lip. “That pairing doesn’t work if ‘the lovers reunite’ in the prophecy refers to Mandelbaum and whoever is doing the binding. Like symbolic lovers slash partners kind of thing. It would need to be rabbi and witch and David wasn’t a rabbi.”
Next to me, Ro went still. “Rasha and witch, Sparky.” He gestured between us.
“First off, we don’t even know I’m a witch. Second, wrong combo. We haven’t ‘re’ anything. We’re united. Full stop.”
“It’s a prophecy. Things yet to come. We haven’t broken up yet, but–”
“Ro.” I slammed the laptop shut. “I didn’t go through all sorts of hell to lose you so easily, okay? Don’t even think that bullshit.”
He nodded, but for the rest of the flight home his words hung heavy between us.
“You put my painting in a garbage bag?”
Malik was practically hyperventilating as he drew it out, muttering what sounded like endearments to the canvas. Some lively symphony played from inset speakers and his place smelled like tomato sauce.
I crossed my arms. “Nice job trying to get me killed, asshole.”
“Cardboard box,” he said, still running a hand over the canvas, checking for wounds. “Layers of packaging. Was I or was I not exceedingly clear in my instructions?”
“Boo hoo. I wasn’t going back in the house after that thing attacked us.”
“If I have to pay a restorer, you’re footing the bill.” He carried the painting down the hallway leading off the open concept living room and kitchen.
I followed him, chewing him out and being totally ignored.
Malik opened a closet door. Inside was a glass door with a keypad. He typed in a code. There was the hiss of a decompressing seal as he opened it, and cool air flowed out. Inside were several other paintings. Malik stowed this one carefully on a rack a few inches off the ground and sealed the unit up again. All that trouble and the jerk wasn’t even hanging the damn thing up. “You better hope it’s not damaged,” he said.
“I’m damaged, you dick.”
“You’re alive.” Malik raked a slow, thorough gaze over me. “Interesting.” He returned to his kitchen, picked up a wooden spoon and lifted a lid on the stainless steel pot burbling on the stove. Steam curled out. “Your boyfriend’s knives couldn’t have sliced my trap and your magic couldn’t have destroyed it. That means you escaped it.”
“How’d you get past the ward to set the trap for me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I set it years ago. It just happened to be a handy way to get my answer of what you are. So answer.” He swiped some tomato sauce off the end of his spoon and tried it before adding a dash of salt. “Did you use some magic not in your Rasha starter kit? How did you escape?”
“A bad attitude and a fast car.”
“If you’re going to waste my time, leave.”
I didn’t even get a flick of his fingers in warning. I flew out of the kitchen, slamming into the wall in the hallway and cracking my skull before sliding to the ground.
The world swung sideways. I sat there, breathing through the vertigo. When I could open my eyes and the room held steady, I pushed to my feet, touching a finger to the back of my head. Blood.
The smart thing to do would have been to walk away. Keep my suspicions about what I was to myself and wait for Gelman to track down the witch. Except the marid had set me up with a very specific test. There had only been one of two ways I was getting out of there and if I was alive, he already knew.
He’d done his stupid test, now it was my turn. Still, it took me a moment to move in his direction. I kept the counter between us, standing stiffly on high alert. “I portalled. Disappointed I’m not dead?”
He filled a second pot with water and set it to boil on the stove. “Not yet.”
“Rohan and I could have been killed if your hunch was wrong.”
He shrugged like that was acceptable collateral damage. “The level of magic ability you accessed when you attacked me occurred when you’d been in an extreme state of distress. I needed to recreate those same conditions and see if I was right about you.”