I took another bite. “Oh yeah. Way better now. Okay, gimme the spell stuff.” I licked off my fingers, wiping them on a piece of paper towel. Millennials–major factor in the demise of the napkin industry. True fact.
Rohan tossed a Ziploc bag with a mixture of salts and chopped up bits of yellow Snowdonia Hawkweed onto the counter. The plant was incredibly rare, but what was scarcity when you had a boyfriend with a fat bank account from his rock star days? How fat, I had no idea. He’d assured me he didn’t have billionaire status, but I suspected that multi-millionaire was still within the realm of possibility. I mean, dude had been the lead singer of Fugue State Five, international chart-topping, emo band extraordinaire. That said, multi-millionaire in Vancouver would scarcely have bought this monstrosity of a chapter house we lived in, so I clearly was not with him for his money. Real Housewives of Vancouver had never been an aspiration of mine. Besides, Ro could have been poor as dirt and he’d still be a prime catch.
I dumped the mixture in water, stirring it with the thin paintbrush that he’d thoughtfully brought. “Such a good sidekick.”
“What happens when you use the ‘s’ word?” Rohan sealed up the Ziplock.
“You tackle me.”
He stuffed the baggie in his pocket. “And what happens when you admit that I’m Batman?”
“You tackle me.”
Rohan quirked an eyebrow. “That all?”
I paused my stirring, perking up. “Ooooh, yeah.” His nerdy role-playing had a deliciously filthy narrative. “’K. I pick door number two.”
Rohan snickered. “Phrasing.” I blushed from head to toe. “Don’t feel bad, Sparky.” He pushed my dinner to the far end of the island, ignoring my glare. “We’re two consenting adults with perfectly natural urges.”
“Yes, we are.”
Rohan opened the fridge, grabbing the bread, cheddar, and butter. “Except for that thing you beg for which is totally depraved.”
“Don’t forget the mustard. And fuck you.”
Rohan gave a smug lift of his right eyebrow, but pulled out the distinctive yellow squeeze bottle. “What? Again? Woman, you’re insatiable.”
“You are never getting laid again.” I motioned at him to put more cheese on the grilled sandwich he was making me, and helpfully retrieved two plates from the white cabinets.
Ro rummaged around on the fridge shelf. “Is there orange juice?”
I pulled an unopened carton out of the cupboard holding the pots and pans and put it on the counter. “I hid this for you. Kane was sucking back the stuff like there was no tomorrow.” I poured it into a glass over ice.
Once he’d chugged some back, I waved the vial in front of his face. “Thoughts. Go.”
Rohan slid a generous pat of butter into the cast iron pan he’d heated, before reading the label. “‘Sweet Tooth.’ Catchy name. Branding and everything.”
“It’s all about discoverability.”
“Did they snort this?”
“Licked it.”
“The initial effects kicked in pretty quickly for licking it. Another point for a magic source.” He placed the sandwiches in the pan, spatula in one hand, then pulled out my paper towel cover and, sniffing the drug, recoiled. “Gross. Cotton candy. Could be worse.”
“Yeah. Could be watermelon scent.”
“Exactly. Swear that’s a demon invention.” He sniffed again, more cautiously and gave me back the vial. “No other obvious chemical odor. I’d say test it and let’s see what we’ve got.”
I drummed the paintbrush against the counter. This was my first actual case and already I didn’t know how to handle this. I bit my lip and exhaled. “I’m not sure how to do the spell.”
“Because it’s crystals, not something solid?”
“Yeah.” The spell to test for magic signatures required the caster to paint a specific vine pattern on the object with the water/salt/hawkweed mixture. “There’s only a tiny amount here. The drug dissolves if it’s absorbed into the bloodstream, so if I add this liquid and the spell doesn’t work, we may lose what little Sweet Tooth we have to test.”
He flipped the sandwiches. “You want brown or golden brown?”
“Golden brown.”
Rohan checked both sides, then plated my sandwich golden brown side up.
We tossed out a few options while eating, like either of us ingesting the stuff and then testing ourselves for a magic signature. Dismissed that one pretty damn quickly, given what had happened to Naomi.
Belly pleasantly full, I poured half of the remaining crystals into a bowl. That gave us a smaller sample size, but also gave us a second shot if need be. Dipping the paintbrush in the water mixture, I did my best to swirl the pattern onto the drug, then said “gallah” to invoke the spell.
The crystals dissolved, leaving us with nothing for the spell to work its magic on.
“Damn it.” I tossed the paintbrush onto the counter with a clatter.
“Wait.” Rohan picked up the brush. The finely-bristled tip cycled through a rainbow of colors before settling into a pulsing blue. It had absorbed enough of the crystals to give us a result.
“Demon magic for the win,” I said.
“Too bad the spell can’t tell us which demon,” Rohan said.
“You need the magic equivalent of a forensic chemist,” Ari said, padding into the kitchen in pajama bottoms and a faded blue T-shirt, in dire need of a shave. He rubbed a hand over his short blond hair.
“What are you doing up so early?” I glanced out the window at the basketball court and press of dense cypress, arbutus, and Douglas fir beyond. My twin may have been a morning person but light was only barely leaching back into the world.
“Up late reading while waiting for the storm to pass so we can get clearance to fly in. I’m going on assignment. With Kane.”
There was a tense silence.
“Kane? With you?” Rohan repeated. “Wow, headquarters sure has our best interests at heart.”
It was scathing, but fair. Our friend and fellow demon hunter Kane Hashimoto and Ari were no longer exactly on speaking terms after a disastrous kiss a few weeks back. Not like their dysfunction would stop them from having each other’s backs, but the timing was awful.
“No way,” I said, waving my hand. “I forbid this. Veto. No.”
“Don’t worry, Nee. Even if the weather was fine, I still have a few more days here for obvious reasons.” He picked up an uneaten thigh. “Is that maple syrup? Awesome.” Dipping the chicken into the golden pool, he devoured half the meat in one bite.
We Katz twins made it a point to be impressive.
Rohan winced like he was in genuine pain.
I hugged Ari around the waist, burrowing my head into his chest. My brother was the best. We’d had a bumpy few months what with me becoming Rasha during his induction ceremony, then our growing pains working together after I’d finally found a way to make him a hunter, but our “don’t mess with us” status quo was restored.
“Quit smothering me.” Ari wriggled free.
“What’s happening in a couple days?” Rohan asked.
I snatched the paintbrush away from him using it to jab him in the chest. “There’s a countdown widget on your phone.”
Rohan’s brows creased. “Are you sure?”
“And a back-up countdown widget.”
Rohan shrugged. “Not ringing any bells.”