Blood & Ash: A Snarky Urban Fantasy Detective Series (The Jezebel Files Book 1)

by Deborah Wilde

  I bit back my retort and mentally stepped away from the line that could fracture our friendship. She’d had a bad day.

  “Just because I don’t feel the need to become bosom buddies with everyone within ten seconds of meeting them doesn’t mean that I'm damaged goods. I just don’t feel like going out. I’ll come another night. Tell Arkady that.”

  “I’ll tell him not to hold his breath.” She slammed the door when she left.

  After washing off the arnica cream from my hands, I scrounged up some cheese and crackers, and turned on the latest British crime drama released on Netflix. I kept losing the thread of the plot, mulling over Priya’s words. She was generally very laid back. I was the door slammer.

  People, like puzzles, had varying degrees of complexity. It was a lot easier for me to figure others out than let them get close to me. I had trouble revealing the pieces of who I truly was, because what if I showed them to people and they left? I couldn’t fully convince myself that the risk was worth the potential reward.

  Sadly, logic didn’t trump emotion.

  But I didn’t want to hurt my best friend. If I was putting unfair pressure on Priya, then I’d socialize with Arkady to make her happy. I was stuffing my feet into my motorcycle boots to join them when my phone lit up with a text from a blocked number. It said “midnight,” an address in Tofino on the west coast of Vancouver Island, and a red heart emoji. Another text immediately followed it with an invitation to an auction. No mention of what the auction was for.

  The Queen had come through.

  I called Levi but it went straight to voicemail, so I forwarded the Queen’s text along with a 911.

  He phoned me back immediately. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Be ready.”

  “I work alone. I just need–”

  “The only way you’ll make it in time is with a private plane. And if you want that, then smile and partner up.”

  “If something shady’s going down, they’re not going to let in a House Head.”

  “I won’t be recognized.” He was impossible.

  “Should I wear anything in particular?” I said.

  “No. I’ll take care of that.”

  Fuck balls. I’d probably end up in ridiculous heels that were impossible to run in and one of those dresses that gave everyone a free show when I sat down. Plus, I’d have to wear opaque black stockings to hide the scar on my right thigh. “Can’t wait.”

  I’d packed the stockings, some toiletries, and a change of clothes in an overnight bag in case we got stuck on the island, and was braced for whatever fashion nightmare Levi was about to throw at me, when the limo glided up to the curb. I opened the door, then did a double take at the blond man inside. “Sorry. Wrong ride.”

  He laughed with a silky sensuality. In fact, everything about his slender body was silky, from his golden skin to his rosy lips and eyes that were the blue of an ocean on a hot summer day.

  Couldn’t be.

  But what were the chances of a random limo showing up here?

  “Levi?”

  “Fooled you.” Even his voice was different. Smoother. I liked his regular deep growl. Whiskey not honey.

  “The voice is part of the magic?” I said.

  “No. Why waste energy on magic when I can do an impression?”

  It was a damn good impression. Openly gaping, I climbed in next to him, setting my bag on the floor. “You look like a Siren.” A Nefesh with sexual attraction magic. I took in the open V of his shirt, exposing his hairless chest and his soft, manicured man hands. “A submissive one. That’s your cover?”

  “No one will think it’s me.”

  They wouldn’t. This person was designed to serve and pleasure. My treacherous brain flashed on actual Levi holding me down as he took his maddening time licking down my body and I vowed to spend some quality time with my vibrator.

  Levi poked me. “Snap out of it. You need to be sharp tonight.”

  “You surprised me, is all. I figured that any disguise would involve you going as a big bruiser.”

  “This is better. We’ll be completely underestimated.”

  “You going to glamour me as a Siren, too?”

  Silky Levi grinned wickedly at me. “Not quite.”

  He held up an ice bucket.

  “Whoa.” The reflection staring back at me was a woman in her sixties with silver hair pulled into a sleek chignon, a face so tight that if I smiled too broadly it might crack, and makeup that had been troweled on. “Got some GILF fantasies you want to share?” I thrust my hips at him. “Ooh, grandma.”

  “Mock all you want. People will see us and simply see a rich old eccentric with expensive tastes.” He made a ruby necklace and ring set appear on me. The clustered jewels were showy, pretentious, and fussy.

  “Do they come with my own Brinks guards?”

  “Like I’d let you near the family jewels.”

  I snorted.

  “They’re excellent likenesses,” Levi said.

  “And excellent visual clues for people to latch on to should they need to describe me.”

  Levi booped me on the end of the nose. “Correct.”

  “Calm down there, sugar rush. You’re positively giddy.”

  “I don’t get to use my magic much these days.” His expression grew distant as he stared out the window to the passing streets. “If I’d known how much being House Head involved playing politician…” He exhaled sharply. “It’s good to flex that muscle. We’ll keep these faces on so we get used to seeing each other like this.”

  I snapped my fingers. “We need names. I’ll be Lillian,” I said in my poshest British voice, and you’re my arm candy, Santino, recently arrived from Rome.”

  “We’re not doing accents,” he said.

  “The impressions were your idea. We proceed as planned.” Still using the ice bucket as a mirror, I ran my hand over Lillian’s hair, but felt my slicked back ponytail. Though if I looked down, I saw her leather sheath dress and heels, not my jeans and motorcycle boots. I jerked my head up. “That’s a vertigo-inducing disconnect. I see the illusion but feel my real self.”

  “You get used to it.”

  “What do you see when you look at me?”

  “The illusion I created. It’s how I know the magic is working.”

  “What about touch? Does that break the illusion?”

  “Not at all. You can feel the truth under the illusion because it’s you.” He gestured to my hands. “May I?” When I nodded, he put them on the side of his ribcage. “See. This person feels thinner than I would.”

  “That’s really cool.” I patted him down.

  “Getting handsy?”

  I shrugged. “If you wore that face, I might.” Blech. No.

  His amused expression smoothed out to a bland poker face. “The only caveat is that you have to stay relatively close with no doors or walls between us. Otherwise the illusion will fall away.”

  The driver opened the limo door.

  A sliver of moonlight lit our way across the tarmac to the small plane silhouetted against the open hangar door.

  “Given the size of your ego, Leviticus, I thought you’d have a larger plane.” I hefted my overnight bag onto my other shoulder.

  “Think hard about it, do you?”

  “But seriously. This is the House plane? I’m underwhelmed.”

  “I’m not fueling the jet for a forty-five minute flight,” he said. “I rented this.”

  At a moment’s notice. Oh, to be rich. “Not under your name, I hope.”

  “Damn. Should I not have used my personal Visa? No, Ashira, it won’t be connected back to me.”

  I marched up the stairs. “Ooh, how duplicitous. So you keep spare aliases around? Juggle families in various cities?”

  “You have your secrets, I have mine,” he said loftily.

  Suddenly I wanted to know those secrets, the rush of discovering them and what he would do to hide them.

  I stepped into the empty cabin. “
Where are the attendants to cater to my whims?”

  There was no lounge or TV, just eight leather chairs, admittedly wider than in cattle class, arranged in two facing groups of four.

  “More private this way.” Levi sat down and fastened his seatbelt.

  I sat down across from him and stowed my bag under my seat, snapping in my seatbelt as the pilot announced our takeoff.

  Once we’d achieved our cruising altitude and there was nothing to see outside except more nighttime, I turned to Levi. “You want the game plan?”

  “No, I want to tell you the game plan.”

  “You have real control issues, you know that? You hired me. That means I come up with the plan.”

  “Porco cane. Fine. Dazzle me.”

  “Information gathering. Until I say otherwise.”

  “And then?” Levi said.

  “A careful analysis of next steps.”

  “So winging it,” he said.

  “Pretty much. Why, did you have something different in mind?”

  “Mine was more a detailed analysis of next steps.”

  “Such a shit. Is your magic going to interfere with mine at all?”

  “Shouldn’t. Why?”

  I flexed my fingers and called forth my magic. “Here. Add this to your disguise.”

  Levi barked a laugh at my faithful reproduction of the dildo from the night at the aquarium. “And you didn’t bleed to do it. Look at me being right.”

  “Go for fifty percent less smug. You’ll still be unbearable.” I held out the dildo. “Come on, arm candy. Touch it.”

  Levi picked it up, tossing it in his palm to test the weight. “Big deal. I’ll have you know that Santino has a drawer full of these.”

  “Okay, that’s more backstory than I needed, but I appreciate your dedication to the mission.”

  He handed it back to me. “Make it go away now.”

  “Don’t worry. It’ll disappear in a bit.” I put it in my overnight bag.

  All too soon, the pilot instructed us to make sure our seatbelts were fastened for our arrival at the Tofino/Long Beach airport.

  I pressed my face to the window, but couldn’t make out anything other than dark blobby shapes during our descent.

  A Town Car waited for us outside the small weathered building.

  Levi took my overnight bag, as well as a brown leather weekend bag that he’d brought for himself and we exited the aircraft.

  The driver opened the back doors and relieved Levi of our bags. “Good evening.”

  “Good evening, young man,” I said in my Lilian voice and widened my eyes pointedly at Levi.

  “Ciao,” he said in a perfect Italian accent that did syrupy things to my insides. “Payback is going to be sweet,” he whispered in my ear, as he helped me into the Town Car.

  I blew him a kiss and he flinched. Yeah, that had to be all kinds of old lady creepy.

  The driver made sure we were seated comfortably and off we went.

  Game on.

  Chapter 12

  Clouds covered the moon on our drive to the auction in Tofino, leaving little to see along the winding roads beyond the dark press of trees and the occasional “deer crossing” and “tsunami hazard ground” warning signs.

  Levi and I didn’t speak because there wasn’t any privacy barrier with the driver, so instead, I used the time to psych myself up. The situation wasn’t ideal. We were walking into an unknown location mostly blind and we didn’t know what was being auctioned or what type of danger the other attendees posed. Even if weapons weren’t allowed, Nefesh were plenty lethal on their own.

  I was smart, could think on my feet, and was confident that I could manage my magic. Plus, I had Levi for backup. Honestly? Going undercover like this was the most exciting moment of my career. Tonight was going to be awesome. I jiggled my foot, riding the buzz. This was the big league and I couldn’t wait for my turn at bat. I was going to hit this out of the park and find those responsible for the smudge.

  The Town Car turned down a long, narrow driveway and stopped in front of a starkly modern mansion. Built on a cliff, the center section of the U-shaped home was elevated on metal poles.

  A slender valet approached the car, asking for our invitation and the QC code allowing entry. There was no other visible security, but considering the flat look in her eyes, she was the first line of defense. She wouldn’t be the last.

  My stomach clenched as she scanned the invitation. If the Queen had fucked me over, I’d find out the hard way in about ten seconds.

  The valet’s scanner seemed to take forever to turn from red to green, but it did, and she allowed us out of the car and up the front stairs with a brusque nod.

  The foyer was spectacular. A soaring cathedral ceiling rose three stories above us, while white walls displayed an extensive and priceless art collection. The glass wall facing the turbulent waves far below admirably showcased Mother Nature’s beauty.

  I accepted a glass of champagne from yet another lethal-looking attendant, and then strolled the space with Levi, my expression arranged into as ennui-laden a one as possible.

  Lillian was a world-weary bitch.

  But I needn’t have worried: old lady Lillian and her boy toy Santino didn’t draw nearly as much attention as I expected. Mostly because the place was full of entitled douchebags dripping with conspicuous wealth, more than one of whom had their own arm candy.

  “Three o’clock.” Levi subtly inclined his head toward a man wearing those stupid shuttershades, a fur coat, and his body weight in gold. “That’s Thug Money. Registered with House Carmel.” The wine-country based House that oversaw Californian Nefesh.

  “Five bucks says his real name is Norman and he got his gangsta handle from an internet generator,” I said.

  “Well, our boy Norm is drug-dealing scum with level five animal manipulation.”

  “A Dr. Doolittle. Don’t they usually become vets or wrangle animals in the movie industry?”

  “He’s channeled his abilities in unique ways. He likes to take out the competition by driving his victims into the forest and having local wildlife tear them apart. Slippery fuck. No one can get charges to stick.” Levi placed his hand on the small of my back, his head bent close to mine.

  It was bang-on body language for two people who were intimate with each other and I was suddenly grateful for the barrier of the leather jacket that I was actually wearing.

  I caught sight of the newest arrival and sipped my champagne to cover my shock. “See the man coming in?”

  “The 1970s called. They want their outfit back.” Levi covertly studied him for a moment. “Or not. Why can I picture him with a neck ruffle and a pocket watch?”

  “I know, right?! He even works for the Queen of Hearts. I mean, the wardrobe had to be deliberate.”

  White Rabbit Man was headed our way so I casually sauntered past him. Well, Lillian did, arm-in-arm with Santino, but the minion didn’t register a flicker of recognition.

  “Were you testing how good my magic was?” Levi said.

  “You noticed that, did you?”

  He tapped his head. “I’m more than a pretty face.”

  “I’ll give you this. You’re holding this illusion for longer than I thought anyone could.”

  “This is nothing,” he scoffed. “I have impressive endurance.”

  His eyes danced, and the corners of his lips quirked up wickedly, and I plucked a glass of wine from a tray, chugging half of it without tasting it.

  “Who’s that?” Levi said.

  Every eye was glued to a stunning Asian woman about my age, twenty-eight, with long, lustrous hair, and a body that should have come with a “beware of dangerous curves” sign pinned to her hot pink slip dress. As she breezed past, I caught a whiff of her Chanel No. 5 perfume, which I only recognized because my bubbe had worn it. Guess it was as timeless as she’d claimed.

  I was used to feeling invisible. It was a handy skill in my line of work and, my dress choice at the aquari
um aside, I didn’t generally solicit attention. I preferred to observe. But there was something a bit too uncomfortable about being in my old lady guise while drool practically ran down the chins of the collective males and a number of women in this room.

  “Keep it in your pants, Santino love,” I warned in my Lillian voice. “Appearances matter. Tonight you’re mine.”

  “Cara mia,” he purred in his Italian-accented English. He stroked his hand up my arm and, somehow, I could have been wearing an entire cow and it wouldn’t have been enough to protect me from the fizz that rolled through my body. “No other woman holds a candle to your beauty.”

  I humphed and stuck my nose higher in the air.

  Levi laughed his regular laugh, the sound tumbling down to my toes. This was mission giddiness, nothing more.

  A bell chimed and a white-gloved attendant with the same flat gaze as the rest of the staff opened a set of doors which everyone obediently filed through. The new room was round and windowless with rows of chairs facing a podium.

  I stifled a laugh as the clientele burst into a round of musical chairs trying to get the seats against the walls. Let them pull their dominance moves. We hadn’t been invited here for a bloodbath. This crowd was so replete with ill-gotten gains they were practically constipated, and whoever was behind this auction wanted a piece of that.

  I took the front middle seat with Levi on my left. The Asian woman sat at the end of our row, her body angled to see as many of the others as possible. It was almost like she was cataloguing the attendees. She kept glancing at the doors as if waiting for someone in particular to arrive.

  An expectant hush fell over the room.

  After a couple minutes with the only sound the rustling of clothes and the occasional clearing of a throat, an older man with a neat goatee and slicked-back hair stepped up to the podium. Unlike the flashy clientele, this man’s attire was understated but of very high quality. He walked with a self-assured stride.

  “Good evening,” he said in an accent so upper crust that it made Lillian sound like a guttersnipe. “I’m Mr. Sharp. Please consider me your own personal procurer of enigmas, oddities, and wonders the world has never seen. Tonight you are fortunate to be part of a very exciting event. We have some highly coveted items to begin with before we get to the main attraction, so let’s ease in with the first lot, shall we?”