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

by Deborah Wilde

  Levi flinched away from me.

  “Levi.” I flung out an arm to block him from getting up. “Let me see. Please?”

  “Don’t you have enough ammunition for one night?” he said softly.

  “No.”

  “Great,” he muttered.

  “No, dummy. I mean…” Argh. I took a breath and tried again. “Do you know why I said you were Watson? Because he’s the moral center and for all your many faults, you care deeply about your House and your people.”

  Levi placed his hand on my forehead like he was taking my temperature. “Methinks there was a compliment somewhere in that insult.”

  I smacked his hand away. “I’m trying to be nice here, but you make it impossible. Watson isn’t weak, and this isn’t about ammunition because scars aren’t weakness. They’re strength. They prove you survived. You know my scars. Let me see yours.”

  Grudgingly, he turned his back to me revealing the patchwork of thin white lines.

  I gently touched one. “Do they hurt?”

  Levi caught my hand and placed it in my lap. “Not anymore.”

  “I’ve seen you in a tank top. How come I didn’t see them before? Whoa. Do you constantly illusion them away? That seems like an exhausting way to live.”

  “Since I don’t walk around naked, no, I don’t.”

  “You should try that next time you butt heads with the mayor. Might liven things up.”

  My brain was whirring. Nefesh magic was like Freud’s Id. And what were two of the most primal drives? Love and security. We all worked with illusion, even if it was as small as putting on a smile for the world when we felt blue, showing confidence when we felt weak, or convincing ourselves that things weren’t as bad as they seemed. But for that desire to become a powerful magic?

  “You didn’t have the perfect childhood everyone assumes you did,” I said.

  “Appearances matter,” he parroted back to me in Lillian’s voice.

  “Can I get you some wine for your pity party?”

  A startled laugh burst out of him. “Well played, Holmes.”

  “You do not have rights to that name,” I said. “Only Pri gets to call me Holmes.”

  He booped me on my nose. “Ah, but I predate her. You get Leviticus, I get this.”

  “Try it and I’ll gut you. I rue the day my grandparents sent me to that stupid camp.”

  He leaned back against the seat. “Moriarty and Holmes. Admit it, that was the best day of your life.”

  Levi’s ink black wet hair was raked away from his face and his eyes were lit up with smug amusement. The day we first met may not have been my best one, but being here in the hot tub with him had elevated today out of being one of my worst.

  Priya wasn’t the only person in my corner, and my new ally smelled really good: of fresh air, a hint of sandalwood, and that delicious oaky aged amber scotch and chocolate magic.

  A squirmy sensation that hadn’t visited in a long time shivered through me. Even using my vibrator was more work than it was worth lately.

  “You can’t call me that,” I said. “We aren’t Moriarty and Holmes.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because despite a staggering amount of fanfic, Holmes and Moriarty never did this.”

  Then I kissed him.

  Chapter 14

  That kiss was spun sugar, soft and sweet, and the world fell away in a honeyed haze, his lips tasting faintly of peanut butter. I slid my hands onto his chest, Levi’s thumb caressing my cheek. Each tease of our lips left me that much more breathless.

  Then Levi crowded me up against my seat, his face close, and grinned.

  “Best day of your life,” he said, and crashed his lips down.

  This kiss was dirty. Messy.

  Reckless.

  Shockwaves rocketed across my body, and I closed my eyes against the delicious onslaught, my breath shuddering out of me. Butterflies fluttered inside my chest. Half of them were doing lazy swoops but the other half were beating against my bones like the drums of war. Pure exhilaration.

  While the cabin next door couldn’t see us, anyone walking on the beach could have.

  I moaned.

  Levi cupped the back of my head, his tongue tangling with mine, and deepened the kiss.

  Need slammed into me like a fist, hot flames of lust licking me from within. Our hands mapped each other’s bodies, exploring every ridge and dip.

  My head tilted back slightly to expose a spot on my throat that he sucked on, making me shiver with delight.

  Levi tugged my shirt over my head. “This is weird.”

  “Phrasing, dude.”

  He blushed, which was adorably unlike him. “Not these. These are…” He sucked my tit into his mouth, bra and all and I melted into him. “Magnificent,” he breathed. He removed my bra, fondling, licking, and nipping. His stubble rasped against my skin.

  I tangled my fingers through his thick hair, trying to reconcile the sight of his dark head against my bare skin. “Okay, yeah, it’s weird. Yay, weird.”

  His chuckle turned to a groan as I pinched his nipple.

  That was nice, but I wanted more kisses. Here and now. I pulled him up, his intoxicating scent enveloping me. My world was the roaring of the waves, the stars that blazed even through my closed lids, and Levi’s lips on mine.

  He ghosted his fingers up my leg, flitting with the edge of my boy shorts and I arched against him, clutching his shoulders.

  “Are you okay with this?” His voice rumbled through me.

  “Put it this way. Stop and die.”

  “I didn’t hear please. Etiquette is important.”

  “Evil bastard. Please,” I said.

  Talented boy that he was, he kissed me again as he lifted me up and pulled off my underwear in one fell swoop.

  I sucked on his lip and Levi growled. His lashes fluttered open to reveal blue eyes that were glazed with a drugged out bliss. A crazy possessive urge to have him only ever look at me that way swelled up.

  What was I doing? This is just sex, Ash.

  It had to be.

  I ran my hands over his body, pulling him closer.

  The kiss grew rough, almost brutal, and then his clever fingers rubbed my clit and I braced one hand on the top of the hot tub to keep from drowning as my body went boneless. Heat curled off my skin. I rocked my hips, the water lapping against me, driving my frenzy higher and hotter in time with Levi’s stroking. Aching for him, I wrapped a leg around his waist, wanting his scent and his touch to imprint on me.

  “Are you imagining Santino?” he said, holding my hips with one hand to make me ride his fingers.

  “Who?”

  His eyes blazed in something that wasn’t triumph, not entirely, then he licked and sucked his way down my neck, so careful of my bruises.

  I rubbed his hard cock through his boxer shorts.

  His breath hitched and he upped the tempo of his fingers, catching my small cries with his mouth.

  Water lapped over the top of the hot tub and my orgasm crested inside me until it burst in a hot glitter bomb and I cried out into the hollow of his neck.

  He placed his hand on the small of my back, cradling me to him. Tenderly. Like we were real lovers.

  We both tensed at the same time.

  No no no no no. Just sex.

  I reached for the waist of his boxers but he stopped me.

  “I don’t have a condom,” he said.

  I wriggled against him, very pleased with the soft “Ashira” that fell from his lips like a plea. He rolled the “r” the Italian way and the sound of my name like that sent a liquid jolt of desire straight to my clit.

  “I can think of at least six things that don’t require one,” I said. “Seven if you’re very good.”

  Levi detached himself and pecked me on the lips. “I’m going in.”

  Huh? He got me off better than anyone ever had but I wasn’t allowed to do the same? What guy would choose to stay hard when he had a perfectly willing woman to
play with? Had I plummeted to a new low of stupidity by kissing him?

  At the very least, I’d broken my cardinal rule. Never show weakness.

  “Good idea,” I said coolly. “My fingers are prunes.”

  I locked the sliding door behind us when we got inside.

  “Ash…”

  “Yeah?” Hold out your hand. Take me to bed. Prove I hadn’t made a terrible judgment call.

  “Nothing.”

  I lifted my wet hair off my neck and squeezed it out. “If you were going to ask me not to ever mention this, don’t worry. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  His expression went tight, then he gave a curt nod. “Good. So long as we understand each other.”

  “Perfectly.” With as much dignity as I could muster for someone who’d had the most mind-blowing orgasm of her life then been brushed off, I went into one of the bedrooms, and shut the door.

  I promptly collapsed on the bed and screamed into my pillow. What a colossal fucking mistake.

  But damn if I didn’t want to make it again.

  It was a very long night. I masturbated as enthusiastically as possible, but the harder I chased my orgasm, the farther away it got, until it was fishtailing out, kicking up gravel, and giving me the finger as it disappeared laughing into the night.

  I wanted Levi, on me, around me, and inside me. Most especially inside me. Instead, I lay there listening for any rustling sound that Levi was deeply regretting his decision and working up the nerve to come crawling, begging, but heard nothing. By the time daylight rolled around, I was tired and grumpy.

  I got dressed and stumbled out in search of coffee.

  Levi was talking to Miles on speakerphone, while standing in front of the bathroom mirror. The room was still steamy from his shower and smelled like citrus shampoo and Levi. He’d shaved, and I swallowed hard, remembering the scrape of his jawline against my breasts. Levi whisked his tie around his neck, the silky material sliding with a soft brush.

  “I’ll be there by nine.” He ended the call and knotted his tie.

  I curled my fingers into my palms, resisting the urge to grab and unknot it. To unbutton him, run my fingers through his meticulously slicked down hair, and dishevel him like I had last night.

  The wooden plank squeaked under my foot and Levi glanced over. His cool, assessing stare showed no trace of that lust-soaked fog from the hot tub, but a curious expression flickered over his face before he turned back to the mirror to straighten the tie.

  “About the hot tub,” he said. “It was ill-advised. I apologize.” Levi was locked down tight, all House Head and back in firm control. He’d even wiped away all remnants of his Italian accent. Too bad. I’d liked that other wilder side of him, even if this version was better for my well-being.

  “It was a rollercoaster of a night. Shit happened,” I said. We’d blurred some lines that probably should not have been blurred, but saying it was ill-advised and apologizing made me feel like I should be ashamed of what we’d done. Of what I’d done by kissing him to begin with. “All good.”

  He gave a stiff nod.

  That stellar kickoff to my day was followed by a text from Talia, then a phone call when I didn’t immediately reply, which I dismissed.

  While I waited for the espresso maker to deliver my latte, I destroyed the smudge in the vial. It was much easier to do when it was contained, though no less icky.

  Levi and I were exceedingly careful of each other’s space, speaking only the barest of phrases like “pass the sugar” and “drizzly out there.”

  Scintillating conversation.

  After yet another inane bit of small talk, I snapped and dropped my half-eaten toast on my plate, my appetite gone. “Is the tightness of your tie knot helping pull the stick up your ass? Might want to loosen it a bit, Leviticus. The human body is allowed to have some give to it.”

  “There were two more heart attacks. News got out and the press have decided that there’s a magic virus killing Nefesh.”

  “Damn. I’m sorry. I take back the ass crack. I mean… Ugh.”

  Levi’s lips quirked. “Regardless, I need to get home and hold a press conference. Find out where they got that idea.”

  “At least they don’t know about the smudges. I’ll get Priya working on the thumb drive. Maybe we can find out how many were let loose.” I’d killed one and if Noemi’s chemo hadn’t killed the second one, then it had jumped into someone else, but there could be more.

  “Thank you.”

  The silence stretched out several beats too long to be comfortable. Luckily, there was a knock on the door. A limo driver had come to take us to the airport.

  There was very little traffic on the drive back. The trees lining both sides of the curving road were a mix of bare branches and thick firs, while the pale sun cast weak rays. Cold enough for winter and not quite spring, March was a depressing month.

  Once on the plane, I slid my earbuds in and cranked up my “one hit wonders” playlist. No point spending the flight in awkward silence.

  Levi busied himself on his laptop.

  Partway through the trip, he tapped my leg.

  I turned off the music. “Yes?”

  “Were you into Sherlock Holmes before your dad left?”

  “He loved them, so he got me into the stories when I was stuck in bed with chickenpox. I was ten? Itchy and whining. He went to the library and brought me home ‘A Study in Scarlet.’ Why?”

  “You took an interest you and your father shared, an interest that had to do with solving mysteries and revealing the truth and made it your code of ethics.”

  “Sure.”

  “And your shield.”

  I slid the earbuds out. “Excuse me?”

  “You convinced yourself that if you armed yourself with knowledge and a healthy skepticism then you’d never be a mark again.”

  “Are we playing dime store psychoanalysis?” I said. “Is it my turn?”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  I raked a slow, cool gaze over him. “Nah. It’s no fun if you’re expecting it.”

  I returned to my music, staring out the window. Other than the fact that he could have been more diplomatic with the shield comment, I agreed with his assessment.

  Levi had been thinking about me. Wanting to figure me out. Why? Should I be flattered or unsettled? I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t some kind of bond between us, I just couldn’t say with any type of certainty what it was. After years of sniping and one-upmanship, hell, after last night I didn’t trust Levi and I’m sure he reciprocated the feeling.

  On the other hand, something had shifted between us and it wasn’t our hook-up. Being Lillian and Santino undercover together had been fun. We’d had each other’s backs. I’d never had a partner to watch my six while I was out in the field and I gotta say, it was a nice change. Not something I’d want to do on a regular basis, mind you, but occasionally, with the right person? Maybe?

  “Should we set up a training schedule?” I said.

  “Can I get back to you? With this press conference and everything…”

  “Sure.” Brush-off received. I’d stopped myself from taking Birthmark Man’s magic, so I had some measure of self-control, and I could destroy smudges and manifest weapons, but this Nefesh status was all still new, not to mention that while I’d taken a couple self-defense classes, I wasn’t a proficient fighter. If Levi wasn’t willing to train me, then I’d look elsewhere.

  Levi got dropped off first at HQ to do damage control. “Good work last night.”

  “Yeah, you too.” I swear I hadn’t meant it like that but of course that’s how it came out sounding. I busied myself with my phone, texting Charlotte Rose to check if she’d heard from Meryem and not looking up until the door had shut.

  She hadn’t. I assured her I was doing everything I could to stop her worrying and that I’d get her girlfriend back.

  What fresh nightmares would today bring? An unknown number of smudges were loose, the press was bre
athing down Levi’s neck about magic viruses, and people with blood magic were harvesting powers from Nefesh to sell to the highest bidder.

  If these third-party smudges were hostless magic, what had happened to the people they were torn from? Did taking their magic kill them? I wished I had a mentor with the answers. And if ripping away magic didn’t kill the hosts, where were the missing Nefesh? There were no reports of individuals showing up with bizarre tales of abduction and magic removal, so what had happened to them? Were they killed to hide the evidence?

  How much danger was Meryem in?

  The limo dropped me off in front of my apartment building. Had it really been less than twelve hours? Because I swear I’d aged a decade.

  Priya sat on the sofa with her headphones on, hunched over her laptop and working on her corporate gig. Her eyes were bleary and red-rimmed and there was a mostly empty large bottle of diet Coke on the ground beside her. Another all-nighter.

  Unlike the rest of Priya’s pristine pink manicure, her thumbnails were bitten down and ragged, and she wore stretched out, tattered sweatpants with Dalhousie University Schulich School of Law embroidered on them. A hand-me-down from her brother.

  I went into the kitchen, returning in a bit with some scrambled eggs and toast, since basic breakfast items were within my culinary skill set. I perched beside her and held up the plate.

  She blinked back into awareness and slid one side of her headphones off. “Jump Around” played. My bestie liked her eighties and nineties rap.

  “Eat something, idiot,” I said.

  Priya shut off the music, took the plate, and forked a bite of eggs. “You do not get to be mad at me because I’m still mad at you and my mad predates yours.”

  “You can Hulk rage at me all you want, but you’re not taking care of yourself. Less talking, more eating.”

  She tore off a piece of toast and shoved it in her mouth. “I’m taking care of myself.” It came out more garbled than that around her chewing but I got the gist.

  “Really? How long were you sitting here by yourself doing this Quasimodo impersonation, Hunchy? You’ve wrecked your manicure from stress–”