“You brutalized him.” Drio nodded approvingly, pouring the beaker of oshk secretions into a patch of weeds just outside the back door. He and Sienna would get along beautifully.
Rohan unplugged the still and the humming quieted. He found a dented cardboard box and packed the still and tubing into it.
I stood up and unscrewed the vise. The oshk flopped over in her chains, her smaller head blob jiggling. Her flesh overhung the side of the chair like a slime toy. “What do we do with her? The matryoshka doesn’t hurt humans. She eats other demons. Isn’t that something we want to leave alive?”
Drio flicked something squishy off his suit and pushed up his face mask, cheeks ruddy. Being in these suits was like being roasted alive. “Kill her.”
“She suffered.”
“Demons are never victims.” Drio looked around the room for anything we’d missed. “We kill them. It’s what we stand for.”
“The only good demon is a dead demon, I know.” But there were exceptions to every rule and he was currently sleeping with one of them.
“Drio’s right.” Ro was remained fully outfitted from head-to-toe.
Drio shook his head, as if that was obvious, picked up the box of drug-making paraphernalia, dumped his helmet on top, and carried it all out to my car.
“How can you say that?” I demanded. “What about Leo?”
Ro squatted down, working on the locks imprisoning the oshk. “I make an exception for her.”
“How magnanimous.”
“Yeah, it is.” The chains binding the oshk to the chair fell to the floor with a clang. “If I had my way, Malik wouldn’t be around anymore either. I appreciate he has his uses, for now. You’ve taught me the value of squeezing every drop of assistance out of demons I can before killing them.”
“That’s not at all–Argh.” I threw up my hands.
“Nava, things may not be black and white, but there’s still right and wrong.” Rohan kicked the chains aside, catching the oshk before she fell over.
“Why is it still alive?” Drio was back.
“We’re discussing what to do with her.” I picked up the chains.
“What’s to discuss? It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t gun for humans, her secretions can harm us, and she has to die,” Drio said. “It’s not open to debate.”
“The basic element of right?” Ro said. “Don’t fuck people over.”
“This isn’t about the Brotherhood,” I said.
“Demons, Brotherhood, it doesn’t matter,” Drio said. “Listen to your boyfriend.”
“Bite me.”
“It turns out we do have one more use for this one.” Ro threw the oshk over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He was fully protected by the chemical suit so I wasn’t worried about another episode. “She’s going to help us kill the rest of the matryoshka.”
Drio nodded. “That works.”
The oshk had some use as a demon-eater, but ultimately, it didn’t matter if she had to die. One day I’d kill Malik, too. No, I was incensed over Ro’s high-handed attitude about Leo. She wasn’t an exception. They’d become friends. Could he really flip on her that easily if push came to shove? Drio’s reaction didn’t surprise me, but I’d been counting on having Ro’s help in protecting Leo if things went sideways and Drio’s feelings got hurt. Now? Would Drio’s rights as a full human automatically trump hers as a half-demon? Would her human half even matter?
Driving home, ignoring the guys chatting about some Rasha that Drio had run into on his jaunt to Palm Springs, I got my anger under control. I’d promised to have Leo’s back. I glanced at my two passengers and their combined deadly force and my heart sunk. In another world where Drio didn’t hate demons and Leo didn’t have that unfortunate parentage, they would have been great together. With all that baggage? There was only one way to keep her safe: convince Leo to stop seeing Drio before she went from an exception to a statistic.
Ro and I carried the oshk from the car to the iron chair in the torture room. She remained limp and unconscious, as far as we could tell without her having eyes. I leaned into the oshk with the side of my body, keeping her upright so Ro could tape her in place with the special duct tape threaded through with iron and salt. Under my gloved hands, the demon had the blubbery consistency of Silly Putty.
Ro ran the duct tape over her raw sores to pin her torso to the chair and the oshk jerked violently against me.
Startled, magic snapped out of me like a whip. “Jeez!” I laughed, placing my hand to my chest. It had only been a spasm. The oshk was still limp, out cold.
Ro tore off his glove, reached for my ribcage, and abruptly dropped his hand before he touched me. “Does your skin feel wet?”
“Shit.” I flung off my gloves, grabbed the chemical suit and twisted the material to examine it. My magic, born of surprise and therefore, uncontrolled, had torn a hole in the suit.
There was a single glistening drop on my skin that I wiped away with the fabric.
I bit my lip. “One tiny drop. It didn’t even sink in. How much damage could it do?”
“Right.” He slung an arm over me. “Besides, I’m here to keep an eye on you. Go all crazypants and I’ll take you out.”
I bumped his hip with mine. “And to think some women only get jewelry. I get my own personal assassin.”
“Anyone can buy jewelry.” Rohan slapped his hand against the scanner to open the door and let us out into the Vault. “I’m full-service.”
“Oh yeah?” I ghosted my lips over his. “Prove it.”
He did. Three times.
It was yet another night of very little sleep, but I wasn’t complaining. In fact, when Ro woke me the next day, I bounded out of bed. Meaning, I opened my eyes on the first try and didn’t brain my boyfriend with sleeping implements.
“How you feeling this morning?” he asked.
I stretched. “Sore, but good.”
Ro crossed his arms, wearing another pair of board shorts–these a dark plaid–that rode low on his hips. “Demon-wise, Sparky. I figured when you woke me up that last time begging for it, that you were probably good.”
I was momentarily struck dumb by the dip between his hips and his abs in the strip of skin visible between his shirt and waistband. One bite of that beautiful brown skin, please and thank you. Maybe a couple of licks.
He snapped his fingers. “My eyes are up here.”
“Yeah. Not really interested in that feature right now.”
Rohan tackled me and I squealed. “Just because I’m the hottest lay you’ve ever had,” he said, “doesn’t mean you can objectify me.”
I beat him with the pillow until he rolled off me. “One of these days,” I said, “your arrogance will outweigh your use in providing orgasms.”
“With you? Not if you had three lifetimes.”
I reached for him, fisting my hands in his shirt. Pulling him close, I kissed him. “Let’s test that theory.”
He groaned. “Drio’s waiting for me. Rabbi Abrams got us a meeting with Mischa.”
Sighing, I let him go, smoothing out the wrinkles I’d put in his shirt. “All right. Go confirm his twin is still alive.”
“What are your plans?”