When my protests of “I’ve only been training for a couple of hours,” and “you should never meet a demon on an empty stomach,” failed to work, I went for Plan B and dug my heels into the grass in the backyard like a little kid.

Rohan hauled me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, ignoring all my pummeling until he’d stepped through a heavy iron door set into the back fence, at which point he dumped me on the ground.

Outside the wards.

I scrambled to my feet.

Rohan whistled some bird call and a moment later Baruch jogged out of the trees, a bruise blossoming on his cheekbone. He nodded when he saw me. “Good. Now you can show us what you did with the brother.”

“Huh?”

As if choreographed, he and Rohan stepped in sync to one side, right as a demon charged me with a chilling growl. Unlike the araculum, this demon was humanoid. Ish. About the height of your standard NBA player, his red eyes burned like glowing coals. Jagged fangs protruded from his fleshy lips and a matted black pelt covered his torso, but the most terrifying thing about him was his enormous cock. It jutted out erect, a non-bobbing zucchini of such knobby rigidity that I wouldn’t have been surprised if he swatted Mack trucks out of his path with it.

This time when I ran screaming, hopping tree roots, and stirring up piles of damp, decomposing leaves, I shot off wild blasts of electricity. My training had really taken.

“I wouldn’t,” Rohan called out. “He’ll just see you as prey.”

“Do what you did to the brother,” Baruch ordered.

I glanced over my shoulder at Penisaurus Rex. Hell, no. Having run in a wide circle back to my starting point, I beelined for Tree Trunk, determined to hide behind him. Yeah, right. As soon as I got within arm’s range, Baruch pushed me back into the demon’s path.

The evil spawn scooped me up from behind and squeezed. Not the boobs! I gritted my teeth against the pain flaring in my sensitive flesh and yanked my knees up to my chest, grateful for my years of tap training and core strength because no way were my parents going to identify my body while impaled on his member.

Pain quickly became my secondary concern. The pressure on my rib cage soon hurtled toward total pulverization. I couldn’t access my magic, couldn’t do anything except be crushed to death. At least I’d have a lovely soundtrack of gaily twittering birds to accompany my death throes.

Keeping me imprisoned with one arm, the curupira scrabbled the fingers of his other hand against my skull, as if trying to pierce the skin.

“He’s going to suck your brains out like a lobster claw,” Rohan said in a conversational tone.

I jerked my head sideways, trying to escape the demon’s sharp fingernail now seeking the right spot to drill down into my head, and was rewarded with a sapling thwack to the cheek.

“Show me how you killed Asmodeus’ bastard,” Baruch said. “When it was just you and him. You’ve got the power. Use it.”

Any second now, I’d black out and become lunch. I clawed at the demon’s arms, desperate to loosen his hold so I could inhale, but there was no shaking him loose.

Assholes one and two did nothing.

My body burned. With rage. A scream tore from my throat as I fired up. The current arcing off my fingertips was a sharp agony. The air stank of burning hair. The demon’s chest, my head.

Visualizing, I slammed my switch on, letting it pulsate with electricity. I imagined it racing through my veins, my very blood alight. My entire body glowed blue, a violent crackle filling my ears.

I slammed my hand onto the demon’s thigh. Hang on. His thigh should have been too big for my hand to curve around.

Damnation, not again! I ripped my hand off his dick and planted it on his hip.

The demon flinched enough to drop me but he didn’t die. I hit the ground in a sprawl, brushing dirt from my eyes, my shin cracking against the edge of a small boulder. “Fuck,” I gasped, gulping down blessed lungfuls of air.

Sparks flew off me, one catching fire on the edge of a dry, rotting log. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rohan spring into action, smothering the wood with wet leaves.

I was more pre-occupied by the fact that even though the demon stood in front of me, I was looking at his heels and not his toes. I didn’t have time to ponder the mystery because he grabbed my hair, yanking a good handful out in my subsequent roll away.

I jumped up. Tiny sparks crunched between the soles of my feet and the dirt, tickling in an itchy sensation.

The demon lunged for me on what I now saw were his backwards feet.

Dancing and bobbing, careful not to trip on the uneven ground, I focused on not being grabbed, because I had no clue how to fight this thing. The only thing that came to mind was Sandra Bullock’s self-defense demo in one of my favorite movies Miss Congeniality. S.I.N.G.

I didn’t think I could get in close enough to do any damage to his solar plexus but maybe his instep was a possibility. Take him down via his freaky tootsies. I dove onto the ground, rolling to grab his ankle. Once I had a firm grasp, I fired my current into him.

A furious howl tore from his throat and he kicked out, trying to buck me off, but I held strong, so he picked me up by my ankles, facing outward. The forest swung upside down with a sickening blur.

I slid my zapping hands up his sandpapery calves, trying to get a hold on him to break free. Sadly, my attack provoked more than pained him. Still holding me by my ankles, he shook me violently, his bulbous knob poking me in the small of my back. Beyond gross. Trying not to touch it, I shot my magic behind me in what I hoped was the right direction. There was a sizzling sound, like franks on a grill. Though given that his dick fell to the ground wizened and black, his wiener did not plump when you cooked it.

The demon roared, shaking me hard enough to rattle my teeth.

Using what little stamina I had left, I rocked myself backward, getting a firmer grip on his legs. I pretty much pawed him all over, and while my magic had to hurt, my situation seemed pointless until I grabbed and squeezed the demon’s kneecap.

The sweet spot.

The creature was engulfed in current. He dropped me on my back with a hard thunk, as he exploded into red dust. White and blue spots danced before my eyes.

I lay there a moment, letting the tree canopy come into focus before sitting up, rubbing my shoulder, and spitting demony powder out of my mouth. As glad as I was to be alive, I was livid at having been pushed into that little demonstration that way. How about a gentle guiding on day one for the new girl? I glowered at Rohan and Baruch.

They stared back at me gobsmacked, all color drained from their faces. Rohan’s hand snaked protectively in front of his crotch as my eyes met his.

That’s what he took away from this?

I pushed to my feet. There were a million snarky remarks I could have made except I didn’t trust my voice right now. I couldn’t get my ribcage to unconstrict and I was shaking so hard, I’m amazed my brain didn’t plop out.

Ignoring the tiny abrasions on my soles, I strode off without a look back, my breath coming in furious gasps. I entered the house via the back door in the kitchen, searching for a woman’s washroom until I realized there wasn’t one because they all sucked and then barricaded myself in the one bathroom I was able to find. For something used by all men, it was a clean enough room with the dark wood vanity/white counter combo all in vogue.

Expression stuck in a snarl, I pumped soap onto my hand, wincing as it hit my cracked bleeding skin from my demon-inspired obsessive hand washing. Kicking the vanity door didn’t help. It hurt my toes and did nothing to make me feel better.

What kind of sick sadists threw a total newbie into proving herself like that? Those two would have let me die and chalked it up to my incompetence. I grabbed some toilet paper and blew my nose.

Forget the demons, these people were the monsters.

There was a soft rap at the door. “Nava?” It sounded like Kane but I wasn’t sure so I didn’t answer. “Babyslay, let me in.”

I debated ignoring him some more, but I was going to need an escort to get out of this place unharmed and Kane seemed like my sole ally. I tossed the toilet paper into the bowl and unlocked the door.

The first thing I noticed was his terrible taste in shirts. A paisley pattern in lurid purples, it was a bold look. A look that slapped itself on the crotch and said, “Here I am.” I respected that about it.

The second thing I noticed was the compassion in his eyes.

The third was the Gatorade he held out to me.

I chugged half the bottle in one go, before pressing it in sweet relief against my forehead. “I don’t even like this shit.”

“Doesn’t matter. Your body craves the electrolytes to recharge after using your power. You’ll learn to keep stashes handy.” Kane leaned back against the closed door. “Our powers don’t manifest the second they do the induction ceremony. I don’t know if anyone told you that.”

“I’ve been told very little about this process.”

“It means that a lot of us find ourselves in extremely embarrassing situations when it shows up.”

“Was yours bad?” I asked.

He laughed mirthlessly, his hip braced against the door. “Dad had this vintage Ferrari convertible. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life. He’d take me out for rides.” Kane’s expression grew dreamy. “We wouldn’t even talk. It was all about feeling the curve of the road. The sun on our faces and the wind in our hair.”

The past tense of this didn’t sound good. “What happened?”

“After I became Rasha, my parents were so thrilled that Dad said I could take her for a spin. So long as I washed her first, she was mine for the rest of the day.” A wistful look came over his face, as he leaned back against the door. “I think I was more excited about that then fighting demons. Picture it. This perfect summer day. This perfect specimen of a man washing this perfect car.”

I gave the requisite smile.

“Do you know the effects of water and salt on iron?” he asked.

“Rust,” I replied, confused at the change in topic.

He nodded and held out his arm. “Look, but don’t touch.” His flesh broke out in an oily sheen. An iridescent purple flecked with tiny white crystals. “It’s a salt-based poison.”

I would have guessed that from the smell alone. My mouth watered bitterly. I raised my eyes to his and gasped. Even his face was coated with it.

“One bad touch and the demons die,” he said.

I peered at his flesh, fascinated. “What about if a person touches it?”

“Trust me. You don’t want to know.” The sheen disappeared from his body.

I reached out to touch him but he flinched away, shaking his head. “Wait.” He turned on the tap and dispensing a good handful of liquid soap with his clean hand, washed where the poison had been. “Until I clean off, I can still burn you.”

“I’m sorry.” That seemed like it might be a lonely existence.

“It’s always the pretty ones you have to look out for.” He shrugged. “I can control it. Now. But the poor, wet car? When my powers showed up?”

“Rusted,” I gasped.

“Instantly.”

“What did your dad do?”

An unreadable expression flashed across his face. “That, dear girl, is a story for another day. All this to say: your. Power. Is. Fabulous!” His face brightened. “Do you know how many asshole dates I could have cut short with it?”

“I am not giving demon hand jobs.”

Kane pulled the hand towel off the rack and wiped his dripping face and arm dry. “While I can’t wait to hear the story of your first kill, Baruch and Rohan just did what they’d do to any new member.” His eyes widened theatrically. “Oops. Phrasing.”

I prodded the side of my head, wincing at the bright burst of pain. “Except I wasn’t trained my whole life for this. It was horrible. A super unfair trial by fire.”

He placed his hand on my shoulder with a sympathetic smile. “It’s your life now, babyslay. But it doesn’t mean you have to go it alone.”

No, it just meant that Ari had to. Still, I smiled back. “Thanks, Kane.”

“Anytime.” With a wink, he took my empty sports drink bottle.

Baruch was waiting for me outside the door. “I made you a sandwich.” Guilt food. Good. Those usually came with extra side dishes.

He led me into the kitchen, my stomach gurgling. On the large table by the sunny window, Baruch had laid out two plates along with big glasses of very cold iced tea from a blue glass pitcher.

There was a distinct lack of sides, but I accepted the peace offering of shaved meat, sliced bocconcini, and tomato on a crusty Portuguese bun. I sank into a chair, eager to dig in.

Baruch sat beside me. Even though his ass extended past the seat, it was so rock hard that it didn’t droop over the sides. I checked twice to make sure.

“So you were in Jerusalem before now?” I asked.

“No, Cairo. They needed extra hands with all the civil unrest. But I was in Chicago when I got the heads up about you.”

I bit into the pickle that Baruch had laid as garnish on the side of my plate. He’d given me the perfect segue. “If Rasha are needed,” I said, “all the more reason to make sure about Ari’s status. What if the ritual when we were babies determined that we were both initiates?”

Baruch picked up the other half of his sandwich. “And what if as your twin, Ari carried an echo of your potential, your magic, from sharing the womb, and that’s what Rabbi Abrams picked up?”

“How is that possible? Ari and I are fraternal twins. We don’t share DNA, we didn’t share a placenta or amniotic fluid, so why would sharing the womb matter?” Mom had versed Ari and I in all sorts of twin facts.

“If your brother did not carry the magic passed down through the bloodlines to the descendants of the original Rasha, then the reason Rabbi Abrams would have thought Ari did is because he felt the residue of your power on your twin.”

“Is that what the Brotherhood believes?” I squirted another dollop of spicy mustard on my sandwich.

He nodded. “If Ari was an initiate, re-running the ceremony should have worked. He would have become Rasha.”

The mustard lid snapped shut with a hard click. “But I’m a complicating factor. Hasn’t anyone thought of that? My existence could have screwed everything up that would normally work. You don’t just give up on someone you’ve invested in.”

Baruch bit into his roast beef, chewing slowly and methodically before swallowing. “There is a way of things.”

I didn’t get a chance to further refute his argument because Rohan entered the kitchen and slapped a piece of paper down on the table beside me. “Your schedule.”

It was color coded to within an inch of its life. “Three entire meals a day? Wow. You really follow minimum prison standards around here.” I tapped the paper. “Where are my snack breaks?”

Rohan pulled a chair out, doing his straddle backwards thing again. “What are you, five?”

“I have a very fast metabolism.” I grumbled at the only eight hours of sleep he’d allotted. “You’ve accounted for every second of my day.”

“Yeah, and?”

Baruch pushed his chair back, carrying his plate and glass to the sink. “Five minutes then back to the Vault. I want to go over what you could have done differently in the fight.”

I nodded to show I’d heard. “What about free time?”

“For all your scintillating hobbies?” Rohan plucked an apple out of the fruit bowl on the table and bit into it.

“Yes. As well as the many good works I do.”

He arched his eyebrow, miming giving a hand job.

“Are you ever going to let that go?”

He took another bite. “Not when there are still hours of fun to be had from it. You know you don’t have to jerk the demons off to kill them, right?”

“It was one time.”

He slapped the table. “Knew it! Baruch owes me twenty.”

I groaned at the fact that I’d just confirmed his suspicions.

“Don’t feel bad,” he said with a smirk, “I puzzled it out when reaching for the curupira’s dick was your first move.”

“I couldn’t not reach for Mount Phallus. He was hung like a horse.”

He held up his hands. “If that’s your kink, then hey, no judgment.”

Here we go. “No judgment, huh?”

“No way, Shaft.” Rohan’s composure cracked, his shoulders shaking as he hummed the Shaft theme music. “Though I wouldn’t rely on it as a kill tactic,” he said, now howling with laughter.

Bastard. “How about my thanks for taking me in hand, then?” I purred, leaning over to run my fingertips up his leg. “So to speak.” I was bluffing, but he’d already unsettled me so many times that I wanted to rattle him back and my arsenal of weapons was laughably small.

His hand clamped over mine, millimeters from his crotch. “Seems I didn’t need to go after Drio for his gratitude crack. Since you’re giving it away.”

“I’m not offering it to all and sundry, asshole.” I yanked my hand away. “That little tussle between you boys had nothing to do with me. And for the record, what I did to Josh was not intended as a fighting maneuver. It was grown-up time.”

“I’m a grown-up.”

“You’re more of a growth,” I said. “There’s a difference. And with that thing? Trust me, his dick was the last thing I wanted to touch.”

“Curupira,” Rohan repeated. “From Brazil.”

“It should have stayed there.”

“Next objection?” Rohan took the last bite of fruit then pitched the core across the room into the trash. Nice shot.

“Do we get paid for this?” I asked.

“Yes. You start at minimum wage.”

“What about danger pay?”

Rohan cocked his fingers at me like a gun. “That’s a good idea. I’ll talk to Ms. Clara about adding it while we’re stuck with you.”

I stood, snatching up my dirty dishes. “I may not want to be here any more than you want me here, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me with a lack of respect.” I dumped them into the sink then whirled to face him. “Now,” I continued, “we’re going to set some ground rules. The first is, you’re going to remember that unlike the rest of you, I didn’t get to spend my entire life training and studying because Demon Club was so short-sighted, they couldn’t see that a girl was the chosen one.”

Rohan pushed to his feet in one fluid move. I was going to have to learn that trick. My standing up always involved weirdly jutting out body parts.

“Fine,” he said, getting in my face. “Then the second has to be that you shut up and listen. Yeah, we threw you in the deep end. There’s no time to pussyfoot around with you. Your magic is active. That means you need to know how to use it because I guarantee that demons are gonna be a regular part of your life now.”

“You still played dirty,” I said. “I get that I’m a huge target, but I thought you guys were supposed to have my back.” He opened his mouth but I held up a hand, cutting him off. “How far would you have let it go with the curupira before you stepped in to help?”

His hesitation told me everything I needed to know.

I slammed on the tap to rinse off my plate, my back to him.

“We would never have let it kill you,” he said in a low voice.

I blinked rapidly, my eyes hot and itchy. I gave myself to the count of five to compose myself and face him. “I’m still the special unicorn Demon Club wants protected. I can make your life very hard if I want to.”

“Back at you, Lolita.”

I bit back my retort for the sake of my Ari plan. “I better return to my training, then.” I’d almost made it to the doorway when something pointy hit my back. I turned around to see my schedule, now in paper airplane form flutter to the ground.

Rohan smirked at me, but I gave him a sweet smile, picked up the damn schedule, and left. I saved my outburst for my bedroom later that night, flinging my bag at the wall. The thunk that the demon primer made as the bag connected wasn’t nearly satisfying enough.

Ari poked his head in. “What happened?”

“They threw a demon at me.”

Ari’s eye bulge was gratifying. “On your first day? It took me years to get up close to one. Under major supervision.”

“Yeah, well.” I snatched up my bag, dumping the contents out on my bed. Perhaps a tad viciously.

Ari picked up the book, glancing at the cover with a soft laugh before turning back to me. “That was kind of shitty but they made sure it was a relatively harmless one, right? An imp or a–”

“Curupira.”

Ari stilled, turning an interesting shade of red. “A what?” His voice chilled me.

I tugged the book from his hands. “Ace.”

“No. You could have died.”

“I killed it. In the end.” He gave a choking cough like he didn’t believe me. I slammed the book down on my mattress. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, bro.”

Ari crossed his arms. “On your first day? You killed a curupira?”

I crossed my arms right back. “Technically, it was my second day. And my third kill.” You know, put that way, I had a pretty sweet success rate.

His eyes narrowed. “No one helped you?”

“Screw you. Is it so tough to believe I did it?”

“Yeah, all right? It is.” He slammed the door on the way out and I flopped down on my bed.

Even when I beat the odds and did well, somehow things overwhelmingly sucked. Thanks for nothing, universe.