Death & Desire: A Snarky Urban Fantasy Detective Series (The Jezebel Files Book 2)

by Deborah Wilde

  I caught myself before I sent that message and changed it to a thumbs up emoji.

  The front door opened.

  “Honey, I’m home,” Priya called out. “Knock once if you’re stuck in some alternate almond dimension.”

  “Would you come find me?”

  She dropped her bag on the floor and collapsed into a chair. “No. If you were stupid enough to use the ring without a safety buddy and get yourself in trouble, then I’d leave you there. Though I’d miss you when the rent was due and eat a slice of cake in memory on your birthday.”

  “Nice. Say aren’t those the same clothes as yesterday? The walk of shame really brings out the green in your eyes.”

  “Right?” She fluttered her lashes.

  “All’s well that ends well. Sort of. I’m still alive and Evil Wanker is Jezebel-affiliated, not Chariot, though he’s still an Evil Wanker.”

  “Eventful morning.”

  “You have no idea. Tell me about your meeting with Miles. You all House Pacifica now?”

  “Yup. I’m getting the official T-shirt and everything. I’m going to be part of a group overhauling all of their cyber security. I met a couple of them and it’ll be good to be working with like-minded people.”

  “World domination is on track. Mazel tov. Is Kai happy for you?”

  “Kai’s always happy.” Yawning, Priya kicked off her ballet flats. “I negotiated that one day a week I’m all yours. Oh!” She sat up. “Someone broke into the office? Did they take anything?”

  “They wanted the feather. They didn’t get it but the place is trashed.” I failed to keep my voice from wobbling.

  “Aw, sweetie. I’m sorry. What are you going to do?”

  I grimaced. “Ask Talia for a loan to replace everything.”

  “How do you know she won’t lock you up first and listen to your proposal second?”

  “We’re meeting in public and I’d fight arrest?”

  Priya’s eyes narrowed. “Where?”

  “Jackson Wu’s speech at the Law Courts. It’s the safest place when you think about it. Talia won’t dare draw attention to herself by going ballistic on her kid for having magic with that crowd around.” I bit my lip. “I’m kind of hoping the pity card might be a way forward for us.”

  Priya sighed. “You’ve spent a lot of years pushing her away. She might find being needed a nice enough change that she softens towards you.”

  “Or enough of a shock that carrying out my doom falls to a distant second place. This sucks, but on a happier note, her payback terms will be better than any bank. Might as well upgrade from second-hand furniture for all the high-falutin’ clients I’ll have.”

  “Did your laptop bite it?” she said hopefully.

  “Would you believe it made it through without a scratch?”

  “Sadly, yes. That’s it. I’m making an executive decision. I’m getting you a new laptop. I’ll wire you up on a faster internet connection, too.”

  “I can’t accept that. You don’t have the cash.”

  “I will soon, baby. This contract? Cha-ching.” Her eyes narrowed on a water stain in the corner of the ceiling that we’d nicknamed Fred, the Demon God of Moisture. “This place is gonna be history.”

  I mustered up a smile. Everything always hit at once, didn’t it? “I’ll go apartment shopping with you.”

  A pillow hit me in the head.

  “Idiot. You’re moving with me. I am not one to live alone. We’ll figure out who pays what. Worse comes to worse, you can live in a closet and I’ll use the second bedroom for my fabulous new wardrobe. It’s not happening any time soon anyway. We’ll be here at Grotto Outrageous for a while longer.” She yawned again and curled up in the chair, her cheek on her fist.

  “Exhausted from riding Kai like a stallion?”

  “Quit harping on him. He’s nice.”

  Don’t forget happy and fond of his routines. How tedious. Priya deserved challenging and exciting and–you know, nice had a lot to recommend it.

  “Okay. No more Kai digs.”

  My phone binged a reminder that it was time to see Vespa. I massaged my temples, exhausted from all the balls that I had juggling in the air right now. How was I supposed to prioritize when everything was Code Red important?

  I debated blowing this visit off because I had to find Evil Wanker or kiss my Nefesh P.I. dreams goodbye, but this feather was dangerous and this might be my one chance to get the low-down. Also, it probably wasn’t smart to piss off anyone in Hedon, and after everything I’d gone through at that damn Dream Market to get the appointment, I sure as shit wasn’t missing it.

  I grabbed the fleece blanket from the small storage unit built into the cushioned bench by the window and draped it over Priya. “You done good with Miles. I’ll be home later.”

  Priya caught my hand and squeezed it. “’Kay. Love ya, Holmes.”

  “Love you too, Adler.”

  Priya was right. I was not without resources, and her friendship was one of my strongest.

  Chapter 19

  Going into Hedon didn’t require me reliving any memories.

  This time.

  Certain there was still some price to pay, I put my worries aside to deal with it when the time came, because right now I had worse problems. Worse even than my heightened awareness of the contents of the metal pouch I’d retrieved that was in the purse slung across my chest.

  “How the fuck is there an ocean in Hedon?” Wet sand sucked at my boots. The inky night sky only had the faintest dusting of stars, seeming to stretch on forever before melting into the faraway horizon. Waves lapped at the shore in a muted roar.

  I’d fixed my destination in my mind before I used the bronze token, same as always, but there was nothing and no one out here, so unless Vespa was some cosmic spirit, I was screwed. I didn’t have any way to contact them either as their number was blocked.

  In the distance was a plethora of lights in brilliant blues, greens and scarlets, with plumes of fire twirling and dancing like some kind of carnival. Since it was the only sign of life, I trudged towards it, but twenty minutes later, it remained as far off as ever.

  “I hate this place.” I sat down on the sand and unlaced my boot, dumping sand out of it.

  The ground rumbled and rolled, knocking me sideways. I rode out the earthquake, the foundational magic of axle grease and sour vanilla ice cream turning my stomach. The usual stickiness of the air was more pronounced, like suction cups leaching onto my skin.

  The final quake sent a wave crashing down that drenched my jeans from the hem up to mid-thigh. Sighing, I laced up my boot.

  “Problem?”

  I startled, my hand on my heart. “Geez. Yeah. You could say that.”

  A wizened little man, wearing purple-tinted sunglasses and a top hat sitting askew on his head, reclined in a lime green lounge chair that hadn’t been there five minutes ago. He’d paired those accessories with striped pantaloons and a matching vest.

  “I need to find Vespa,” I said.

  The man cackled. “Many try.”

  “I used one of those bronze tokens but it brought me here instead.”

  “What are you messing about with those barbarous devil-pawns for?”

  “Moran gave them to me. The Queen’s swordsman,” I explained, in case Moran went by some other name.

  “That dried bull’s pickle.” He spat on the sand. “May the pox take him.”

  Yeah, well, the pox could take a lot of people because this was going nowhere. I pulled out a token to go home, because my time was better spent finding the angry British dude than listening to vague riddles from the psychedelic Mad Hatter here, but the man kicked it out of my hand. It sank into the sand and out of sight.

  “You daft, girlie?”

  I dropped to my knees digging at the spot, but the token was gone. “That was my last one, you batshit little gnome! How am I supposed to leave?”

  “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  “Spar
e me the platitudes.” I stomped off, but he followed me.

  “Those tokens bedevil the being and plague the personage,” he said.

  Was this guy for real? “You mean they fuck with people?”

  “Such a turn of phrase, you have.”

  “Likewise, but at least I make up for it with my winning personality. I’m well aware that using them comes with a cost. Twice they’ve dredged up old memories, now I’ve landed in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Wherever you are, there you be.”

  “More sage greeting card wisdom to chart my life by. Where am I?”

  “The Lost and Found.”

  I stopped and he crashed into my back. Regretting the question before I asked it, I said, “Am I lost or found?”

  He poked me with a gnarled finger. “You’re here to find what you lost. Or lose what you’ve found. Either way, you’re here because of the token, and it likes to–”

  “Fuck with people,” I finished. “I remember. Can I go to Vespa after this?”

  “I imagine so.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. Continue walking on that stupid beach indefinitely or go with this Willy Wonka guide? The tokens demanded payment and if they didn’t want a memory, my fastest option was to get this over with. I had enhanced strength, blood armor, the ability to rip away magic, and my very sound instincts. I could handle this.

  “Alright, take me into the beast.”

  He clapped his hands twice and the sand beneath my feet liquified.

  I screamed, hurtling downward to land with a thump in a warehouse that was crammed to the rafters with every item you could imagine. Bicycles, umbrellas, stuffed animals, phones, styrofoam mannequin heads, baseballs, fishing rods, all of them dumped in no particular sorting order on metal shelving units that weren’t even lined up with each other.

  His eyes gleamed in wonder. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

  “It’s something, all right.”

  A deafening chorus of barks, howls, and mewls rose up.

  Wincing, I covered my ears. “Pet section?”

  The man nodded as an elephant trumpeted somewhere in the bowels of the warehouse.

  I didn’t ask about lost children.

  Finally, the noise died down enough that I didn’t have to yell to be heard.

  “How am I supposed to know what to look for?” I said.

  “Start as you mean to go on.” He hopped onto a counter and began flipping through a copy of People magazine that was so ancient the original Charlie’s Angels actresses graced the cover.

  “Thanks for nothing.” I picked my way through the shelving units. Maybe I’d lost my mind and had been sent here to retrieve it. I certainly hadn’t lost cars or furniture. The items got weirder and weirder the deeper I walked. I hadn’t lost any prosthetic limbs or wait, was that a severed penis? Yes, yes it was.

  A coffin, a crashed airplane, what I hoped was a dummy corpse in a pink bunny costume, nothing applied. Then things turned surreal with signs floating over empty shelving units: hopes, dreams, youth, virginity. That last one warranted a lookie-loo since the experience had been thoroughly underwhelming and I wouldn’t have minded a do-over, but nothing showed up.

  I laughed. What did I expect? My untouched hymen?

  The lighting dimmed as I pulled up short before a sign reading “loved ones.”

  My father stood there, hip propped against a shelf and his legs crossed like we’d arranged to meet.

  “Little jewel.” Dad’s chocolate brown eyes twinkled. His dark brown hair shot through with salt-and-pepper was cut short and he wore the brown and cream diamond-patterned cardigan that he’d called his Mr. Rogers sweater.

  “Nope. Not buying it. We’ve done this illusion dance before, false Adam. Begone. I’ve already lost you and you’re not what I’m here to find.”

  “Never take anything at face value. Come on, Ash, I taught you better.”

  “How’s that relevant?”

  He winked. “It’s elementary.” With that, he melted back into the shadow of shelving units.

  Elementary. Basic. Simple and straightforward. Don’t take him at face value. Not here to find my literal father. My symbolic father? What did he represent? My lost childhood? No, that would have been filed under lost youth.

  Answers to unresolved questions.

  A kernel of hope sparked in my chest. Would I finally learn what had happened to him?

  I raced through the warehouse, following glimpses of him and the scent of his beloved lemon candies, but after many dead ends and much backtracking, I hadn’t caught up to him.

  The passage between the shelves grew narrow enough that I had to walk sideways, going as fast as I could and yelling for my father. I burst through a door, only to find myself back on the beach under the stars.

  Alone.

  Bewildered, I tugged on the door, using all my enhanced strength to wrench on the handle, but it didn’t budge.

  “Empty-handed, are you?” Talia stood beside me, the picture of cool in an ivory dress and matching heels that didn’t sink into the sand.

  “There’s been a mistake,” I said through gritted teeth, still whaling on the door handle, since I only had the mental capacity to deal with one parental head trip at a time.

  She considered me for a moment, then shook her head. “No mistake.”

  “I saw Reasonable Facsimile Dad. He wanted me to find him.”

  “Did he? Or are you clinging to a childish dream when it’s time to grow up?”

  My shoulders slumped and with one last half-hearted tug, I let go. “Which childish dream: finding Adam, you and I having a semblance of a relationship, or being a Nefesh P.I.? That covers all the ‘find what I’ve lost’ and ‘lose what I’ve found’ bases, right?”

  Talia adjusted one of her pearl earrings. “I haven’t known what was going on in that head of yours since you were thirteen. Why would I be able to answer that question for you now? Honestly, Ashira.” She turned and walked away, growing fainter until the breeze blew the last remnant of her image away.

  I screamed and kicked the door.

  The little man reappeared and held out a white bunny. “Thank you for visiting the Lost and Found. Please enjoy this parting gift.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  His face fell. “You sure? They poo everywhere and I get them faster than I can find homes for them. Ridiculous Easter gifts, if you ask me, but they’re a lovely memento of your visit.”

  “You want to give me a memento, get me another bronze token.”

  “Stay away from those foul barnacles. Magic artifacts never lead anywhere good.”

  My hand went to the metal pouch. “No, they don’t.”

  The little man brightened and pointed at the water. “You can get to Vespa now.”

  He made the bunny wave bye at me with its paw. The rabbit twitched its nose, thoroughly unimpressed, and let loose pellets of shit on my boot that I had to shake off.

  Fucking Hedon.

  A path of ice cut across the waves to the carnival lights that had somehow shifted position. I leaned one foot on it, testing my weight. When the path held, I started walking, a warm breeze blowing my hair about my face.

  Hedon or the Queen or whatever had seen into my heart about my father more than once. Now it had added my mother to the mix. Maybe I should be grateful for small mercies. What would this place have done if I’d fed it memories of Priya and given it ammunition about what she meant to me? I shuddered to think.

  My phone rang. “Miles. Did you find Nadija?”

  “Not yet. Does the smell of lilies and dust mean anything to you? We checked out her motel room and it reeked.”

  The ice under my foot cracked and I jumped. Had Jesus spent each step peering nervously down at the water wondering when it was going to stop supporting his weight? Because the Bible didn’t mention that part. “That’s her magic, but you shouldn’t be able to smell it. Have you ever smelled magic before?”

  “No,” he said. �
��It reminded me of my grandmother’s hospital room when she was dying.”

  Dying magic. A tenuous idea took hold.

  “Let me check something out.” I got off the phone with him and called House Pacifica, asking to be put through to Elke, the librarian.

  I decided to deal with these reality-to-reality phone calls the same way that the coyote in the Bugs Bunny cartoons dealt with gravity: all would be well and I wouldn’t come crashing down under the pull of crippling long distance charges so long as I didn’t think about it.

  The carnival lights grew closer, along with the faint sound of drums.

  “Hi, Elke, this is Ashira Cohen. Remember me?”

  “Sure. How can I help you?” she said.

  I skidded along a particularly slick patch, one hand out for balance, the other on the pouch for safekeeping, with the phone welded between my chin and shoulder.

  “The day I was at the library,” I said, “you explained a theory postulating that magic was a disease that had invaded our bodies.” It made sense, given my white clusters acted like white blood cells to kill magic.

  “That’s right.”

  As I closed in on the shore, small waves splashed over my feet making the already slippery path a death trap. I slowed down because the water on either side looked cold and deep.

  “Is there anything that can kill magic?” Other than me.

  “Not kill, but there are some rare instances where the body decides to fight off the magic. We don’t know why it happens, but the power essentially atrophies. It’s incredibly painful for the afflicted person.”

  “Can they be healed?”

  “No. Their magic withers away, leaving them to live in excruciating pain for the rest of their lives. Most choose to end the pain sooner rather than later.”

  Lilies and dust. The magic inside her was dying. Nadija hadn’t kept the feather because she was part of Chariot. It had tempted her with her heart’s desire: a magic life free from pain. “What about drugs to help with the pain?”

  “The amount of painkillers they’d need would preclude having any kind of normal life and comes with its own problems, like addiction and hitting a threshold where the drugs are no longer effective. It’s not something that’s talked about much and there hasn’t been a lot of research done in the area. There just isn’t the awareness to warrant funding.”