“Hedon is falling apart.” I released him. “What if that happens during the wedding? Are you willing to risk Shannon’s life?”
He twisted his knobbly arthritic fingers together. “She’ll be fine. Her Majesty”–the words weren’t sneered but only just–“would have dragged me off if collapse was imminent.”
The Queen made an impatient noise that curled into me like an ice pickax. “Ashira has no choice. If you refuse, Shannon’s magic is forfeit.”
I pressed my lips together. The Queen was making the same mistake with Abraham as I had with Nadija. Abraham had used his magic and his wife’s death was the result. That kind of guilt would take time to unravel, and a strategy built around blackmail and intimidation would only cage him in more, not get him to open up.
It was always easier to see it from a less emotional standpoint, but still, I’d expected her to know better.
I pulled out my phone and pressed a button. “Hi, it’s Ash. Yeah, I’ll put him on speakerphone.”
“Zaide?” Shannon’s thin voice floated out into the loaded silence.
“I won’t let her hurt you, lollipop!” Abraham rose half out of his seat, twisting my forearm, but I gently pushed him back against the cushions.
“Listen to her,” I said.
“No one is going to hurt me,” Shannon said. “Ash has done nothing but help me. There wouldn’t be a wedding if she hadn’t saved Omar’s life. Please, Zaide, I know you’re scared to use your magic, but I’m asking you to come watch me get married and do whatever it is Ash has asked of you. I love you and I believe in you.” Her normally tremulous voice went steely with resolve.
“Thanks,” I said and disconnected.
“You think playing the guilt card will work? It won’t.” His voice quivered.
“I’m not playing. If you don’t do this, people will die. You’re the only one who can save that world. Shannon believes in you, as do I. That’s why I’m making it your choice.”
“Interesting move.” The Queen lightly ran a manicured finger along her neck.
I shivered and pressed on. “Abraham, you didn’t kill Sarah. You honored her last wishes.”
His head jerked up. “How do you know about that? I never told a soul.”
“I found the nurse. I’m very good at what I do.” As was Priya.
Abraham stroked his chin in short, nervous motions, while I tried to think positive and glue-like thoughts about my head staying on my neck. He cut his eyes sideways to the Queen. “Okay. I’ll do it for Shannon.”
Moran appeared, blade in hand, and Abraham and I jumped. Were he and the Queen psychic, because come on.
“It’s my favorite fully-cocked swordsman.” I saluted Moran. “Here to escort Abraham to Hedon?”
“You assume I’m here for him? Fascinating.”
I whirled on the Queen, my neck hunched into my shoulders. “Abraham agreed. I did my part and–”
Moran laughed. “Gotcha.”
“You’re not funny.”
He grinned at me.
Abraham looked between us in bewilderment.
“Come along and get dressed.” Moran’s sword disappeared and he held out a hand to help Abraham up. “You’re going to love the wedding. There’s a chocolate fountain.”
“Fruit or graham crackers?” Abraham said.
“Both.”
The old man brightened and hopped spryly up. “We’ll have to get my tux out of mothballs.”
They left the room.
The Queen had been scarily silent for a very long time now.
“He would never have agreed if I threatened him, and then I’d have to follow through and Hedon would still be in danger,” I said.
“Gracias, Ashira, for explaining the difference between the carrot and stick.”
I swallowed. “Sorry.”
“I admit, you were correct. In this instance. But you only fulfilled half of the deal. There is still Abraham’s magic to neutralize. I won’t have his abilities out there to be used against me.”
I placed my hands on my ribcage as if that could help me drag a breath into my lungs, and spoke the words that could be my death sentence. “I won’t do it.”
The Queen delicately massaged one temple. “I like you, chica, but I am a woman of my word. If you refuse, then you will end up in my garden.”
Make your case like your life depends on it, Cohen, because it does.
“Abraham would have to be in Hedon to do any magic damage and he’s the only Architect powerful enough to affect its structure, right?” I said.
“Correct.”
“You said he could fix Hedon. For good?” She nodded. “If the world is stabilized once and for all, and there are no other back doors into Hedon, he’s the only back door to worry about. If he locks himself out, then Hedon is safe.”
“Is that possible?”
“Yes. His wife Sarah had cancer and when it became terminal, she had him create a slice of reality, her own tiny world of a cottage by the river like the one they’d lived in when they were first married. She chose to end her life without him having to see it, so she made him design it so that her hospice nurse could go in with her but Abraham could not. When the nurse came out and broke the news of the wife’s passing, Abraham carried out Sarah’s last wish and imploded the reality.”
“What’s to keep him from doing the same to Hedon?”
“He built the detonation into the fabric of the world. You’re connected to Hedon, so you would sense if that was the case. When Abraham destroyed the world, he felt like he killed her, even though the cancer had. More relevant to this discussion, he locked himself out before he destroyed it. If Abraham can’t get into Hedon once he’s fixed it and no one else can use him, then there’s no reason to take his magic.”
The Queen picked up the metal case with the vials and placed it on her lap. “No reason other than we had a deal that you’ve found a way to wriggle out of.”
“You keep learning about who I am every time I go into Hedon, and yet that habit of mine continually surprises you.” I held up my hands. “Look, I'm not being a dick.” I winced. “Sorry, language. I mean, I’m not being malicious. I just have to be able to face myself in the mirror. What I did to Sharp was hard enough, even if there was an argument that he deserved it. I can’t make that argument for Abraham, and I refuse to become a monster. I’ve presented you with a solution that keeps my humanity intact. Will you accept it?”
Still holding the case, the Queen rose and crossed to the window. She stared out at Pacific Spirit Park across the street, a forest that was larger than Golden Gate Park in San Francisco.
I alphabetized items in the room to stay calm: AM FM receiver, bookshelf, ceiling fan. I’d gotten all the way to “wires” and was currently stumped on “x” when the Queen shoved the case at me.
“Vete. Go, before I change my mind.”
I scrambled to my feet, the case clutched to my chest. “Highness? I’m not your enemy, either.”
“Not yet. Whether you stay that way remains to be seen.”
I bowed my head and backed out the door, the case securely in hand. Hitting the sidewalk, I took stock of my situation. The vials would soon be destroyed and I’d thwarted Chariot on that front, but my fight with them was just beginning in earnest. On the one hand, I faced a group of unknown enemies, and, I flicked a glance back at the house, the Queen, a known potential one.
On the other, I had a team. It wasn’t my heart’s desire, but as futures went, it wasn’t half-bad.
A dark cloud passed in front of the sun. I hurried to my car, taking it as a sign of impending rain.
I should have taken it as an omen.
Thank you for reading DEATH & DESIRE!
Brace yourself as things heat up in SHADOWS & SURRENDER (THE JEZEBEL FILES #3).
Ash wanted a career filled with challenging mysteries.
She should have specified she didn’t mean her family.
When a murder scene reveals a connect
ion to Ash’s father who abandoned her when she was thirteen, she's stunned. He may be the key to stopping Chariot from achieving immortality.
The catch? He could be hiding anywhere in the world.
To make matters worse, Levi, Ash's romantic entanglement and brand-new boss, has his first official case for her: helping his ex-girlfriend, a.k.a. Ash's childhood tormentor.
No one ever said adulting was easy.
As secrets multiply and alliances get deadlier, Ash's investigation takes her back into Hedon and into her own past. Cracking this case could reunite her family... or cost her everyone she holds dear.
Actual ghosts have nothing on the ghosts of her past.
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Turn the page for an excerpt from Shadows & Surrender ….
Excerpt from Shadows & Surrender
Lying to the cops wasn’t generally something I advised, but as everything in my life was now being judged on a case-by-case basis, it had become more of a suggestion than a rule.
The man in the photo possessed that specific shade of forgettable light brown hair generic to many a white boy, and his facial features were unremarkable, but he was saved from obscurity by a purple birthmark shaped like a comet under one eye.
“I’ve never seen him before.” I handed the photo back to Sergeant Margery Tremblay of the Mundane Police Force and the closest thing I had to a friend among cops. “Who is he?”
“Can you confirm your whereabouts two nights ago between the hours of midnight and 3AM?” Despite her flawless make-up and cute silver pixie cut, her eyes were steely and she asked the question with no trace of familiarity.
I leaned back in the plastic chair. “I was asleep.”
“Alone?”
“Shocking, I know. My roommate was home.”
“There’s no one to confirm you didn’t leave your place?” she said.
“No.” I crossed my arms. “What’s this about, Sergeant?”
She tapped the photo. “Yevgeny Petrov was shot dead.”
My questions were legion, but I hurriedly crossed off the ones it would seem odd for me, a total stranger and a supposed Mundane, to ask. Questions such as: “Why are Mundane cops investigating this when Yevgeny is Nefesh?” Or, “How was he shot when he can turn his skin to rubber? A fact I knew because that’s the form he’d been in when he attacked me, and I accidentally tried to rip his magic from his body. A girl never forgot her first time, dontcha know.”
“My condolences,” I said. “I’m sure his mother loved him. What does this have to do with me?”
Margery massaged her temples. “He’s the one you allegedly attacked in that anonymous assault charge. When you were undercover as that old woman.”
Yevgeny had never seen the real me, just the Lillian persona who I’d been illusioned to look like. However, when I went for his magic he’d recognized I was a Jezebel, enemy to the shadowy religious organization that he worked for called Chariot. Jezebels were a special breed.
“You think I found out and shot him? Bit of a leap, no? The assault complaint was bullshit. I don’t have magic, so what’s my motive in taking him out, Sergeant?” I said coldly.
Continuing my Mundane status on public record had its uses.
Margery made a sound of disgust. “All right. Quit it with the ‘Sergeant.’ I’m just doing due diligence. I don’t think you’re involved and you’re not being charged with anything, but you might know something. You’re sure his name doesn’t ring any bells?”
I shook my head. “Where was he found?”
“One of our squads took down a dogfighting ring. They found his body and called in the Nefesh homicide unit.”
Last time I’d seen him, Yevgeny was laying on the floor, a whimpering wreck believing that ants were swarming him, an illusion courtesy of my partner in crime that night. Guess Yevgeny’d gotten over the trauma enough to continue being a productive member of the criminal fringe.
“Yevgeny has magic?” I put the right amount of curiosity into my voice. “Is House Pacifica involved?”
“No. He’s registered with House Ontario. He was just here visiting his sister. She’s been notified already as next of kin.”
What a load of crap. Even if the sibling part was true, my investigations had revealed that he’d been in Vancouver working for Chariot, kidnapping marginalized teens in order to sever their magic. It was then sold at an auction where he’d also provided security.
“Are we done?” I said.
As I didn’t have anything more to add, Margery cut me loose with a sigh and instructions not to get in any more trouble until she went on vacation in the fall.
“You live for our encounters,” I said and left.
I legged it back to my car, Moriarty, and logged into the House Pacifica database. Look at that, Yevgeny did have a sister. Tatiana Petrov, a level five Weaver. Yikes. There weren’t a lot of people with level five magic in any specialty. What were the chance that she’d been the Weaver hired to set the security ward on House HQ, only to later null it and enable a German Chariot assassin to take out a person-of-interest?
There was one way to find out.
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Acknowledgments
I want to thank the women who keep me sane on a regular basis: Elissa and my Binderhaus friends. I don’t know what I’d do without you all and let’s hope I never find out.
My divine editor Alex Yuschik, you are the bomb. You make editing fun and I am so grateful to have you in my corner.
This book is dedicated to the memory of my impossibly cool and beautiful friend, S.D. I love you and miss you every day.
Go out and hug your loved ones. xo
About the Author
I’m Deborah (pronounced deb-O-rah) and I write sexy, funny, urban fantasy.
I decided at an early age to live life like it was a movie, as befitted a three-syllable girl. Mine features exotic locales, an eclectic soundtrack, and a glittering cast–except for those two guys left on the cutting room floor. Secret supernatural societies may be involved.
They say you should write what you know, which is why I shamelessly plagiarize my life to write about witty, smart women who kick ass, stand toe-to-toe against infuriating alphas, and execute any bad decisions in indomitable style.
“It takes a bad girl to fight evil. Go Wilde.”
www.deborahwilde.com
Death & Desire: A Snarky Urban Fantasy Detective Series (The Jezebel Files Book 2) Page 30