“Yeah.” I stuffed a piece of spicy scallop roll down. “I’d asked Yitzak if it was a code. He didn’t confirm or deny, but he spouted passages about Jezebel from the Old Testament, as did Mr. Sharp.”
“Sharp worked for whoever was selling the smudges, right?” Priya said.
Levi nodded. “The same people who likely ordered and carried out Yitzak’s murder. It had to be Chariot.”
“The probability of this being a religious organization was already high, but what if specifically it’s Kabbalah?” Priya spun her screen to us. “The first search result for Kabbalah and Chariot.”
“Merkavah, derived from the Hebrew word for chariot, is the description the prophet Ezekiel gave to God’s moving throne.” I read on. “A school of early Jewish mysticism, named after the visions in the Book of Ezekiel. It’s Kabbalah. Blah blah blah. What were these visions? Glad you asked. Trippy creatures with four faces, flying wheels, then he does a virtual tour of a temple and witnesses some cult sex… I mean, if you’re going to name your organization after an unreliable narrator, this is absolutely the dude you want.”
“The connection to Chariot feels pretty solid,” Priya said. “What now?”
“We visit Gavriella’s apartment and find something to connect me with the rest of my tribe.”
Levi pulled on his suit jacket. “Later tonight. I promised Miriam I’d stop by the opening of Le Rève and I have to change.”
“Wait. You mean Chef Miriam’s new restaurant?” Priya tossed a chopstick at me. “How come you don’t have friends like that?”
“Sure, she does,” Levi said. “Miriam is a Camp Ruach alum.” Camp Ruach was the Jewish summer camp I’d attended with Levi and Miles from ages thirteen to eighteen. Miriam had gone too.
“You guys were tight,” I said. “We just bunked together.”
“What’s she like?” Priya said. “Was she a mean girl?”
I shook my head. “More very focused on things that interested her and no real attention for anything else.” Like when she’d dated Miles for a year in their early twenties.
“That settles it,” Levi said. “I’ll meet you there, say at nine? Then we’ll head over to Gavriella’s apartment.”
Why wait? Also, Levi was either way over-confident in my abilities to score hot opening night tickets via a years-past acquaintanceship, or, more likely, had forgotten that not everyone lived in his rarified world where all he had to do was snap his fingers and even the cliqueyest of circles happily admitted him.
How long would I be stuck hanging around until he’d made the rounds of his many admirers? And of course, any news outlets would want to grab him and spotlight the House Head out on the town. Was this a “plus one” situation? Would his female companion be there with him?
I pushed my plate of sushi away. I’d text him from outside.
We walked him out to the common reception area and said our good-byes.
Eleanor, the flaky graphic designer who ran one of the three businesses in our shared work space, along with Bryan, an insurance agent, strolled out of the kitchen with a tea cup.
Usually, I’d have given her a chin nod, but she’d been away traveling and I was trying my best to engage more so that Priya didn’t bear the brunt of my human interactions.
“Hey,” I said. “Good trip in Southeast Asia?”
Eleanor blew on the steaming tea, looking faintly surprised. “Yeah. It was amazing.”
She took a deep breath like she was about to launch into details.
I cut her off with a “Great. Gotta debrief.”
Priya patted my shoulder. “Baby steps.”
Chapter 7
“You can’t get us in to Le Rève, can you?” Priya pouted as we sorted takeout detritus between the kitchen garbage can and recycling bins. She’d enthusiastically asked Eleanor detailed questions based on the itinerary that Pri had seen exactly one time, until I’d dragged her away to help me clean up.
“Nope. Sorry. Who needs a trendy loud restaurant anyway? We have our own celebration right here.” I opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle. “To your being free of the douchenozzles.”
Priya fluttered her hands around her face. “Your ‘touch this and die’ Prosecco that you’ve had sitting in the fridge for a year? I’m all verklempt.”
I ripped the yellow Post-It note, with precisely that warning written in felt pen, off of the bottle and grabbed a corkscrew and two Red Solo cups. “You’re worth it, baby.”
“Plus you’ll never actually sell Moriarty and toast his departure.” Priya popped the cork and poured the Prosecco.
“True. But you’re still worth it.”
We clinked glasses. “L’chaim!”
Taking the bottle, we headed back into our office.
I slid off my motorcycle boots, wiggling my toes with a sigh, and swung my feet on the desk. “Look into White Rabbit Man as a Russian citizen. Also, we’re calling him Moran now. Don’t ask.”
After a bunch of attempts to figure out the spelling, I’d Googled the word “okhuyet” and learned it was a Russian expression of shock or surprise. “Also check if there’s anything tying either the Dershowitz or Tannous families to the Queen. But be careful. Don’t send up any red flags that you’re looking into them.”
“That’s insulting,” she said, already typing. “Updates with the murder case?”
“It’s downgraded to attempted murder.”
“How does one go from murder to attempted murder? Forgetting to check the pulse? Zombies? Vampires? Some other new and exciting fantastic creature?”
“Nope. A feather that makes people crazy and a fake Angel of Death.”
“Ah yes, the Old Testament references. I emailed them to you. How do you know it’s fake? A couple weeks ago you didn’t think golems existed either,” Priya said.
“True, but those are man-made and I think people are capable of most anything.” I pulled up the website for Tannous Security on my phone. “If there was an Angel of Death, there should have been an actual death, don’t you think? I expect celestial assassins to meet minimum standards.”
“Point taken.”
I snickered. “To borrow from Sherlock, we have the Curious Incident of the Angel of Death.”
“Except there is no Angel of Death.”
“That’s what makes it curious.” The Tannous business website announced that they specialized in high risk security and provided a contact email. That was it. “The Tannous site is pretty sparse.”
“They don’t keep electronic records either. Or none that are connected to the Net.”
“What about House Pacifica? Did you find a connection? Or anything in Levi’s personal affairs?” I opened the email she’d sent about Angel of Death references.
“The House has a lot of vendors. Going through all of them would take ages, but there’s nothing for Tannous Security in the past couple months.”
“And Levi?”
Priya took a much longer swig than necessary. “No.”
“You found something, though.” I glazed over reading the first few references in the email. Death to the non-believers, yadda yadda yadda.
“I widened the search to his dad. Isaac Montefiore owns Lockdown Cyber Security, a large data security firm, specializing in crypto and cyber security including data mining. There’s no sign of specific dealings with the Tannous family, but check out this photo from last year’s Technology and Cybersecurity Conference in London.”
“Masika and Isaac.” Admittedly, they were in a group of people and not even standing next to each other, but at the very least they had a passing acquaintance. “There’s no love lost between Levi and his father. If Isaac hired Tannous Security and Omar was sent to sabotage Levi in some way, could it have triggered Levi into this bizarre ritualized killing?”
“You know him better than I do.”
He considered himself a monster. Could a monster become an Angel of Death? I scrolled through the rest of the references she’d emailed. “Ma
lach was the Messenger of Death. The Destroyer. Destroy your enemies.”
Priya pushed her laptop away and rolled her shoulders out. “I’m running a script I wrote, searching for matches to the info you’ve given me already on Moran. Meantime, what’s the deal with the feather?”
“It has compulsion magic, but it affected me differently from others. It tempts Nefesh and Mundanes with their heart’s desire, at least it did with Omar and Moran, though it didn’t have that effect on me. I had to hook into its magic and even then, it wasn’t about temptation, I just wanted to devour the magic. It was freaky.”
“Because you’re a very freaky girl.”
We simultaneously broke into the chorus of “Super Freak.”
I’d been branded a freak after my accident. It had steeled my resolve to live on my terms, but I feared this strange magic might break me.
The last words of the chorus died on my lips.
“Whoever attacked Omar didn’t take the feather,” I said. “They used it to try and kill him.”
“If they left it behind, then they weren’t affected by its temptation magic,” Priya said.
“If Levi happened to have the artifact on hand, and if he was the attacker, he couldn’t have left it behind. It rules him out, but that’s a lot of ‘ifs.’” My head was going to explode. “That aside, it’s an odd choice for a murder weapon, given how slowly the magic was strangling Omar.”
“Why?” Priya kicked off her shoes.
“If you want someone dead, use a fast-acting method. Or, if you want to make a point and the feather was relevant in some way, you kidnap the target and keep them in a controlled environment to be sure it did the job. Also, do your research. Our suspect went after his target in a house armed to the teeth. Either because they’re invincible and a real Angel of Death, in which case they should’ve done their damn job and killed Omar properly, or it’s a case of human sloppiness.” I tossed my phone down and reached for my Prosecco. “I need someone to verify exactly what this magic is and whether it was placed on some ordinary bird’s feather or it’s something else entirely.”
“Like an angel’s feather?”
“I would rather that not be the case. No Angel of Death should equate to no angels period.”
“Your formal logic is flawed.”
“What else did you learn about these fine people?” The sip I took sent fizzy bubbles tickling my nose.
“A whole lot of nothing,” Priya said. “Omar doesn’t exist on social media at all. I cross-checked with some family that I found who are employees of the business, but they don’t have profiles anywhere either. To be fair, they’re mercenaries and they’re involved in a lot of dangerous scenarios. It’s harder to use anything personal against them if they don’t have a digital presence. As for the Dershowitzes, Shannon’s social media is all about her art, Ivan has some ranty Twitter posts, and Rachel has an Instagram account filled with evidence of her many philanthropic endeavors.”
“Curated by some lowly assistant. Rachel couldn’t hold a camera steady enough to take a selfie.” I drained my cup. “Enough about this case. What do you want to do for your next gig? I’d hire you full-time, but I don’t have enough work or cash.”
Priya laughed. “I’d kill you if you were my boss.”
“I’m your boss now.”
She reached across her employee-issued desk for the Prosecco. “Sure you are, Holmes.”
“See if I write you a reference letter. Seriously, though. Any thoughts?”
She poured herself more bubbly. “I want a challenge. House Pacifica could do with a cyber security overhaul. I’d know. I’ve hacked them enough times.”
“You can’t work for them. That would be cavorting with the enemy.”
Pri daintily sipped her alcohol. “Says the woman who had Levi’s dick in her.”
“That wasn’t cavorting. That was hate-sex.”
She snorted. “Then says the woman who just finished working for them.”
“That also was not cavorting. It was freelance and I was in charge. And don’t bring up Levi and the Jezebel thing because I have no choice in partnering up with him on that matter.” I pouted. “You can’t desert me. I need you.”
“Aw, kitten. I’m not going back into nine-to-five servitude. I want a consultancy contract. Strictly freelance. Now, if your fears have been put to rest, can you get me a meeting with Miles?”
Not only was Miles Head of House Security, he was also the man who had met Priya exactly one time and, as I’d recently learned, bestowed the nickname Pink Menace on her. Ever since her engagement had blown up horribly a few years ago, she’d been holding herself back in relationships. Or what passed for them.
I didn’t want Priya to settle for safe. She deserved all the passion in the world and while I had no idea if Miles was “the one” for her, I had a feeling that if these two met properly, sparks would fly.
Hmm. Perhaps I was being narrow-minded. It wouldn’t hurt to have a mole in Levi’s camp.
“You bet I can,” I said cheerfully.
Priya narrowed her eyes. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing.” I tapped a finger against my lip. “The best way to go about this would be to run into Miles socially. Then you can ease into the idea. He’ll get all uptight and suspicious if we go the direct route. Maybe there’s a way to get us into Le Rève, after all. Give me your phone.”
She slid it across the desk to me. “Why can’t you use yours?”
“If Talia sees your number she’ll assume something bad happened and pick up.” If she didn’t, there was no hope for us. I dialed my mother on speakerphone.
“Priya?” Talia said. “Is everything okay?”
I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Hello, Talia.”
“Ash.” Her voice turned wary. “What did you need?”
I’d told my mother that I had magic and at best she thought me deluded, at worst unhinged. From her perspective, the last time I’d gone off the rails this badly, it had ended in that devastating car crash, therapy, and rehab. Apparently, she didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to go there with me. Again.
Except this time, I wasn’t some angry, out-of-control kid. I had maturity, experience, and oh yeah, actual magic. I was on a wild ride, but I could steer myself through this. In all probability I was going to have to steer us through this, because I was most definitely going to have to take the lead.
“A daughter can just phone her mother to say hello.” I made a face at the phone and Priya smothered a laugh.
“Of course she can, darling. Now if that’s all, I’m very busy so–”
“What would it take for you to call Evie Kaufman and get two people onto the guest list of her daughter’s restaurant opening tonight?”
There was a long pause. I mimed shooting myself.
“Evie is in France and I’m not sure I can reach her.”
Funny, because when she was there last year, you two Skyped constantly. The smile I’d plastered on at the start of the call grew tight. I rarely asked my mother for much, so she understood that if I was reaching out, this request was important. However, if she wouldn’t do this for me, I’d go to my fallback position.
There were two known entities that my mother approved of: schmoozing and Priya. Hopefully, Pri’s well-being still counted for something in my mother’s eyes. “It’s a networking opportunity for Priya.”
Pri batted her eyelashes.
“Very well,” Talia said. “There’s a cocktail party tomorrow evening. Senior staff, ardent Party members. We’re drumming up support for our bill to restore governance of Nefesh to the Canadian people and eradicate House powers. My colleagues’ families will be there and I require your presence.”
I should have jumped at the chance to get in her orbit and been thrilled that here we were negotiating events just like our old dynamic, but I wasn’t. It had taken playing the Priya card to get here, not me saying I needed help. Rage slipped through my veins like fire. It wou
ld be too easy to give in, let go, and fall back into being the angry, out-of-control teen who Talia still pegged me for. Cold, hard logic. That was always the answer.
And logic was saying that Talia didn’t want me there, she only needed me there.
“You want me to choose sides,” I said.
“You have no reason to support Levi, do you?”
No, but I had every reason to support the Nefesh community. “You can’t honestly expect me to get behind something that fascist. What’s next? Detention centers?”
“You’re being melodramatic.”
“You’re being hateful!”
Priya raised her eyebrows at my heated tone.
“You can disagree with my politics,” Talia said, “but the Party expects a show of solidarity from family members.”
“I’m well aware.” A scathing retort formed on my tongue, but reason prevailed. “I’ll come.”
“No lies, no games, Ash.” I was counting on it. “8PM sharp. No standing me up, either.”
“I won’t,” I said. “You have my word.”
“That’s not my sole stipulation. Be my supportive daughter. Make small talk. Do not cause a scene or make the day about you in any way. That’s my price for calling Evie,” Talia said. “Yes or no?”
Priya shook her head, emphatically no.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said and hung up.
“Ash,” Priya said. “Don’t do this. I can find Miles a million other ways.”
“No, this is good. First of all, it doesn’t hurt to know who in the Mundane community is onboard with this stupid proposal. Talia’s clever. She got what she wanted on two fronts: my presence and ensuring I wouldn’t bring up the dreaded ‘M’ word, but I got what I wanted as well.”
“Being on the guest list?”
“Contact. As soon as she announced the venue, I knew our talk wouldn’t take place there. So, I’ll go, be on my best behavior, and leverage this into another meeting where I set the agenda. Whether she wants to hear it or not, I owe it to her to demonstrate my magic personally before it becomes public knowledge.” I rubbed my chest with the heel of my palm, hoping the sharp pang was heartburn. “Talia’s reaction is going to be brutal, but I can’t hide from her. I won’t. She’s my mother.”
Death & Desire: A Snarky Urban Fantasy Detective Series (The Jezebel Files Book 2) Page 8