Monday morning, I hustled to go meet Dr. Gelman, banishing all Rohan Mitra thoughts from my mind. Today’s weather was more spring than winter. Walking briskly kept me warm, even with my jacket open. I followed the map on my phone to our meeting, eyeing the building in question. Several signs on the ground floor invited people in to a billiards hall, but it did say Café Louvre in giant red neon letters along the second story. Worst case scenario and the place was a dump, I’d grab breakfast from my new favorite bakery on the way back to the hotel.

I hit the second floor and found myself transported. La Belle Époque, indeed. It was an airy, thoroughly charming Parisian café. A long rectangular room, the space was painted salmon pink and cream with rococo plaster touches and ceiling medallions. A long bar ran most of the length.

“Wait until you actually eat something,” Dr. Gelman said. She braced a hand on the wall, winded from her climb to the second floor. Once she’d caught her breath, she noted today’s outfit in approval. “Better.”

With a final longing glance toward the pastry case, I followed her into the farthest reaches of the room. We sat down at a small wood table for two. The waitress handed us our menus and bustled off. There was a good selection of croissants and omelets, but I’d been promised pastry. I pointed back toward the case. “Which one should I have?”

“Go right for the treats, don’t you?”

“Always. I want no regrets. You never know when you might die.” I clapped a hand over my mouth, realizing that in her condition that might not have been the best thing to say.

“Don’t stress yourself, kid.”

The waitress came for our order. Dr. Gelman asked for an omelet for herself and the classic sacher for me. “A latte, please,” I added.

The scientist looked around the mostly empty restaurant, as if memorizing the few patrons’ faces.

“What’s wrong?”

“Probably nothing.” She pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “You got the supplies?”

“Yes.” I reached for my purse to give them to her but she stopped me.

“Keep them. You’ll need them for the ritual.” She placed the cigarette in her mouth, coughing as she did.

“Really?”

She sighed, annoyed, but dropped the cancer stick on top of the pack.

“Thank you. How does the ritual work?”

“You know the story of the golem?” she asked.

“Clay monster. Rabbi brought it to life.” Even if I hadn’t vaguely known the tale, the story was set here in Prague. Half the tourist shops displayed books with covers to that effect in their windows.

The waitress deposited our lattes. I sucked my first sip back like a junkie getting her morning fix. Which, let’s face it, I was.

“Once the golem had been physically built,” Gelman said, “the rabbi needed to write the Hebrew letters aleph, mem, and tav on its forehead to bring it to life. They spelled ‘emet,’ meaning truth.”

I searched my brain for a long-buried memory of Jewish folklore told to me by my grandmother. “Didn’t they stop the golem by erasing the word?”

“Not the entire word. The aleph. It changed emet to met. Death.”

“I don’t want Ari to be erased or die.”

The waitress placed my sacher in front of me. A thick slab of chocolate cake. “You’re so pretty, face cake!” I clapped my hands.

Gelman and the waitress looked confused.

“It’s as big as my head,” I explained. “Thus deserving of the moniker.” The waitress shot me a weird look like she was wondering if my craziness might interfere with her tip. I beamed at her in reassurance. “Thank you.”

She didn’t look convinced and after telling us to let her know if we needed anything else, hustled away.

Dr. Gelman cut into her omelet. “Is your twin like you?”

“Not even a little bit. And yes, my parents were overjoyed by that fact. I see the look on your face.”

She chuckled.

I dug my fork into the dark rich chocolate, making sure to snag some of the ganache coating and the whipped cream piled high on the side.

Oh, sweet mother of fuckers. I almost wept at the taste. It was the nirvana of chocolate, the perfect sweetness, the perfect moistness, the perfect richness, and then to reward the eater further, the cake was shot through with raspberry. Literally the best pairing in the world.

I dabbed at my eyes. “I’m all verklempt.”

She smiled indulgently at me. “I’m glad you like it.”

I forced myself to put my fork down and savor this experience. “Ari?”

“The ritual involves invoking aleph mem tav, but it cannot be undone or erased. He’s in no danger from that.”

“Meaning there are other dangers.”

“There are always other dangers, Nava.” Her statement reminded me of something Rohan would say. To wipe away the bitter taste in my mouth, I took another bite, still determined not to fall on the cake like an animal.

“Does Rabbi Abrams know the details of this ritual?”

“No. Few do.”

Taking another careful look around the restaurant, she pulled something out of her purse. She pressed it into my hand, closing my fingers around it. Paper crinkled over a hard center. She shook her head at me when I turned my hand up to examine what I’d been given.

I casually tucked the small package into my pocket.

Dr. Gelman buttered her toast. She kept a pleasant smile on her face, as if we were chatting about nothing of consequence, but her voice was low and insistent. “Why do you think you can’t take your Rasha ring off?”

I caved, needing another bite. “It’s part of the magic.”

She salted her eggs. “More than that. It’s a covenant between Rasha and Brotherhood that the hunter dedicates their life to the cause. The symbol of their willing servitude.”

“It sounds like handcuffs.” I frowned, tugging on my ring. “No one told me that.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered if they did. You’re not given a choice. The Brotherhood is all about power wrapped up in a cause. The most dangerous sort of fanaticism with very lucrative rewards. They are determined to control every aspect. That’s why your existence upsets them so much.”

“Not everyone hates me.” I felt compelled to defend them. “Some of the Rasha would fight to protect me. Rabbi Abrams is on my side, too.” I hoped.

“He is. The fact he sent you to me proves it.”

“How so?”

“He hasn’t told the Brotherhood about Ari’s confirmed status yet, has he?” she said.

“No. And I’d wondered about that.” Ari had told me that Rabbi Abrams wanted his status kept under wraps until he figured out why re-running the ceremony hadn’t worked. “How did you know?”

Dr. Gelman took a pill case out of her bag, dumped a tiny white tablet into her hand and dry swallowed it. “The Brotherhood could induct Ari, but with their way your magic would be nullified.”

“Oh.” I dragged my finger through some ganache. “A month ago, I would have been first in line for that option.” Save Ari, ditch Nava. I wasn’t shocked, though it still was kind of sucky to hear it spoken aloud. I shrugged and licked the chocolate off.

“Your existence has upset the order they’ve worked centuries to create.” She scooped up some omelet. “If my ritual works, the Brotherhood can never know. They must believe that Rabbi Abrams performed the regular ceremony again. That he’d made a mistake with the ritual the previous time. These ceremonies require precision and other factors can interfere with magic. If, for example, your brother was feeling extreme emotion.”

“Massive. He was also hammered.”

“Perfect. Now, if they know you possess a means of inducting a Rasha without them sanctioning it?”

“We could check for other descendants that the Brotherhood didn’t think to.”

“Sheket.” Dr. Gelman gripped my hand. “You’re not listening. They will kill you. Kill Ari.”

My fork tumbled to my plate. I dragged my sweaty palms along my skirt. My vision tunneled, the room spinning out impossibly long and distorted. Sound blurred.

I looked down at my fingers clenched in my lap, staring at the crease of my knuckles, the slight bend in my pinky finger, and the tiny patch of dry skin at the base of my thumb. Imagining them bloodied and lifeless on the cold hard ground.

“What if they already know?” I whispered.

“If you bought the supplies and made it here alive then they don’t know. You’ve gone this far. Rabbi Abrams understands the danger and the fact he sent you to me means he’s willing to hide the truth. There’s no reason not to proceed. Have you told anyone else?”

I shook my head, then stopped. I’d told Rohan.

Her face fell. “Can this person be trusted?”

In this? “I have no doubt.”

Dr. Gelman finished her breakfast, but I pushed the dessert around on my plate, appetite gone. She awkwardly patted my hand. “At least you’re going to make them work to take you down.”

She insisted on paying for breakfast. I slowly descended the stairs with her. I didn’t try to help, she was too proud for that, but I did stay close in case she needed me. We got to the bottom without incident.

She promised to give me the step-by-step instructions necessary for the induction ritual after she checked one last detail, though she refused to call or email me, since all my communication might be monitored. Fair enough since my phone had been given to me by the Brotherhood, and my laptop encrypted by them.

“Should I be concerned about them seeing those first few messages between us?” I asked.

“No. But from now on, we should find another way to maintain contact.”

Given the schedule for the Samson job, I figured I’d be back in Vancouver by Saturday. We arranged a time for her to phone Leo’s place. The Executive didn’t know about her. If I wasn’t back, she’d phone at the same time each day until she reached me.

“Thank you so much,” I said.

She reached a hand up, briefly touching my cheek. “We’ll talk when you get home.” The conversation was over. Probably a good thing. I’d had my share of bombshells for the day.

I walked back to the hotel, my mind swirling, amazed at the people talking, eating, and shopping around me. Amazed at how normal their lives were. Just over a month. That’s how long it had been since my world had been knocked off its axis, and I’d become Rasha. Given such a short adaptation period for such a massive life transition, a transition the rest of them spent twenty years to prepare for, I was not just coping, but thriving.

Thanks to me, we’d cracked the mystery of Samson’s identity. Thanks to me, Ari’s initiate status had been confirmed and he’d soon be inducted. Not to mention, I’d helped take out the demon Asmodeus, his spawnlings, and the vral. It was fucking unfair then, that every time I found my footing, the floor dropped out from under me.

I stopped at a red light. A little girl in a bright yellow coat watched me. Her dad’s hand rested lightly on her head, and her mouth was smeared with chocolate. She grinned at me.

I grinned back. That’s how I’d deal. Knowing that doing my job in the dark let kids like her live in the light. We crossed the street and she skipped off ahead with her father. Rohan was wrong about me not knowing what I wanted. Kill demons and get Ari Rasha’d. My personal life had sidetracked me and it was time to reset things to a less complicated state.

Look at that. Meeting Gelman had let me forget about Snowflake for an entire hour. I wasn’t to be given a second more, however, because I entered the hotel to find Rohan and Lily, their heads bent close together, cheeks flush with cold, and identical expressions of happiness on their faces as they laughed over a shared joke. A perfect couple.

I tried to sneak past them, but no such luck.

“Where have you been?” Rohan asked.

“Breakfast with a friend at Café Louvre.” Let him stew over which friend.

Lily clapped her hands together. “Did you have any of their cakes?”

My heart sank. Not fair. I don’t want to like you. “Sacher torte.”

She nodded sagely. “That’s one of the best.” Her phone beeped. Lily checked it. “Oops. Gotta get to the conference.” She kissed Rohan’s cheek. “See you later.”

He kissed hers back. “Have fun listening to physicists, you giant nerd.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

I returned her good-bye wave. “Seems I wasn’t the only one breakfasting with friends,” I said. “Up early, were we?”

“Up late.” Rohan glanced at Lily’s departing back.

My stomach twisted. I saw his hand on her naked back. Her face soft and suffused with ecstasy under him. The wicked glint in his eyes as he slid into her. Was he gentle with her? Did he growl her name, the way he did mine?

Rohan snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Hey, spacey. You all right?”

They probably had movie sex: the lightest sheen of non-odorous sweat, low cries, and mutual orgasm. Two beautiful people basking in post-coital radiance together.

“Is there anything you need me for today?” I asked, because if there wasn’t, I wanted to go to my room and torture myself further.

“There is,” he said.

“What?”

Rohan frowned at my sharp tone. “What crawled up your ass?”

I stuffed my hands into my pockets so I didn’t punch him. My fingers brushed the wrapped item I’d been given. Examining it was a much better use of my time than obsessing over the sexual proclivities of the dummy in front of me.

I stalked off into the elevator, Rohan dogging my heels. I didn’t speak until we’d gotten inside my room and I’d locked the door. Rohan watched me, confused, as I tossed the vials of dirt and water on the bed. Then I ripped open the package Dr. Gelman had given me.

An amulet. There wasn’t much to it. About the size of a Canadian two dollar coin but thicker, it was made of swirled green glass. The only noteworthy detail was a hamsa etched on the inside. I ran my fingers along the edge but there was no clasp, no hinge, no discernible seam.

Rohan leaned in to look at it. “What does it do?”

“I don’t know.” I tapped the stoppered containers. “We need these for the induction ritual. I’m guessing the amulet is part of it as well, but Dr. Gelman didn’t tell me why.” I held the disc up to the light, twisting it in between my finger and thumb. “She seemed very concerned that no one see me take it from her.”

He held out his hand and I dropped the amulet in his palm. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Do you want me to research it? Discreetly?”

“No!”

Rohan handed it back. “O-kay.”

I gripped his sleeve. “I am trusting you with my life by telling you this.”

His expression hardened. “Meaning?”

“Meaning if the Brotherhood finds out that I’ve discovered a way to induct a Rasha that they haven’t sanctioned, they’ll kill me and Ari.”

Rohan spun off the bed, cursing. I sat there, plucking at a loose thread in my skirt until he ran out of steam.

“You can’t tell anyone,” I said.

“Fuck, Nava.” He punched the wall and I flinched. “I think that goes without saying.” He rubbed the side of his hand over his forehead. “That’s who you were with, wasn’t it?”

I nodded, gathering everything up and placing it all in the tiny safe in my closet.

“Is Ari worth it?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, but my hands shook as I locked the safe up.

Rohan turned me into his arms. I tensed again. “I didn’t spend the night with her,” he said.

“Who?” I asked.

“Anyone.”

I lay my cheek against his chest, relaxing into his embrace. Needing this comfort like a balm. “Stick it in whoever you want, Snowflake.”

“Your permission is duly noted. For the record, I watched a Breaking Bad marathon. Heisenberg is either way scarier or not at all in Czech.”

“I know. I couldn’t decide either.”

His heart beat in time with mine. “The other night…” he began.

I inhaled, letting his presence envelop me on every level. “No point rehashing it.”

Rohan tipped my chin up so that I had to meet his eyes. “No more knives. I promise.” His voice held a quiet sincerity that led me to believe him. Besides, the faster this was all put behind us, the faster we could continue as I meant us to go on. Fuck buddies and fighters.

“We’re good. Drio told me why you had to get drunk.” The way he searched my face had me wondering if he was worried that Drio had told me too much.

He slid his hands down my arms, stepping away. “Come on.”

“Where?”

He grinned. “Do you trust me?”

“Situationally.”

He held out his hand. “Good enough.”