There was a funny look on her face. One I’d never seen before on her which is why it took me a second to place it. Fear.
My heart sank. I was right. “No games, no lies. What a joke.”
She came around the desk and crouched in front of me, wrinkling her pantsuit. “Honey, I think you need professional help.”
“That would be convenient. Lock me up so you don’t have to answer for what you did. It’s bad enough what I missed out on, but people are dying, Talia, and it shouldn’t matter that they’re Nefesh. Just… tell me everything.”
Why you did it. What I am.
She moved over to the window. “Is this because you’ve been spending time with Montefiore? Has he been filling your head with crazy ideas?”
“Are you spying on me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. A lot of people saw you with him at the aquarium.” She fiddled with the cord of the blinds.
“Is that why you’ve been phoning me? Or was it because you know the ward was broken?” I crossed my arms. “Levi and I aren’t hanging out and this has nothing to do with him. Stay on topic. The accident was when this all went down. You stayed by my bedside practically every second. Did the magic show up when I was unconscious? What did you know? What were you so afraid of that you made the Van Gogh do it?”
“Of course, I stayed by your bedside. You’d been in a horrible crash, you were in a coma, and I was scared I’d lose you. However, I don’t know what magic you’re talking about or anything about a Van Gogh.”
“My magic. The trauma of the accident switched on a recessive gene.”
“That’s impossible.” Talia glanced at the closed office door. “And don’t repeat nonsense like that. You’re a Mundane.” She raised a hand against my protest. “We’re done with this. No, enough. You don’t have magic, Ashira. This is a delusion.”
I blinked rapidly enough against the wetness in my eyes that she probably didn’t catch it and hauled myself heavily out of the chair. “I won’t bother you further.”
“Wait.” Talia sat down again and put her glasses back on. “I know you’ve always had this fascination with Levi–”
“The way the Hatfields were fascinated with the McCoys.”
“But you have to stay away from him. There’s something bad going on and the House may be involved.”
I slammed my hands on her desk. “There’s no virus and no evil agenda and you damn well know it. This legislation of yours is draconian and completely unnecessary. If you put restrictive measures in place, you’ll turn us into a police state where Nefesh are concerned.”
Where I’m concerned.
“If there’s no virus,” she said calmly, “then the magic has turned on its hosts and is killing them. Unstable magic is a threat to the general population, and we’ll do whatever it takes to keep our people safe. It’s a dangerous situation.”
Did she know about the smudges? “Meaning?”
“Stay away from him.”
“What would I get in return?” I snapped my fingers. “How about one straight answer?”
“Ashira Ganit Cohen, I am your mother and I’m telling you to sever any and all contact with Levi.”
I did a double take. Talia had never pulled that shit. Not even when I was fifteen and it might have been vaguely appropriate.
Two spots of red colored her cheeks and she clutched her pen in a death grip.
There was a knock at the door and one of Talia’s staff poked her head in.
“Oh, excuse me. Sinaya wasn’t at her desk. I didn’t mean to interrupt, but Talia, when you have a minute, I need to speak to you.” The young woman smiled at me and I smiled back automatically because she looked vaguely familiar.
I didn't recall meeting her, though with her hair pulled back in a low pony tail and her generic conservative suit, she could have been one of a dozen Untainted Party employees. The ink stains on her fingers indicated she’d recently tangled with the faulty photocopier on this side of the building where the upper echelon Party members and their assistants worked.
“No problem. I was heading out,” I said.
She moved aside for me to pass and I caught a whiff of her perfume. Chanel No. 5. I pulled up short, imagining her hair down, smoky eyes instead of her natural makeup, and a hot pink slip dress.
The woman’s smile wavered and she touched her mouth. “Are there crumbs on my face? I just had a cookie.”
“You’re fine. Goodbye, Talia.” I walked out of the office and out of my mother’s life.
No one ever looked at me and thought, “Damn, I bet that chick can belt Aerosmith,” but they’d be wrong. I sang the chorus of “Dream On” while throwing devil horns and headbanging, my loose waves flying around my face.
“Whoooo, baby!” Priya catcalled.
When I hit the high part, striking my best rock star pose and the mic held directly above my upturned face, the bar burst into cheers.
I killed that ballad and swaggered back to my table.
Blondie’s was poorly lit, the bathroom floors got sticky after 10PM, and smart patrons stuck to French fries and beer. But it had karaoke and was my favorite drinking hole in the city.
Ruthie, a yoga pant wearing soccer mom who came to karaoke night once a month religiously with her sister, took the mike for her gravelly-voiced rendition of “Blank Slate.”
“Nicely done, Holmes.” Priya handed me a shot of Kick in the Balls, clinking her glass to mine.
I slammed the drink back, shuddering as the combination of Cuervo Gold, Jack Daniel’s, and Yukon Jack burned its way down my throat, and stacked the shot glass on top of my other three, starting the next row of my pyramid. “Let’s form a cover band. Aerosmith to Zamphir. Zeppelin? Z.Z. Top? Bah. There are no Z bands I like. Aerosmith to Young M.C. You can feature on ‘Bust a Move.’”
Priya twerked her pink denim mini-skirted butt in her chair. “Hell, yeah I can.”
She hopped up and ran over to the karaoke sign-up table, returning with a satisfied smile.
“Tonight, my good Adler, we shall be exploring the pros and cons of getting blitzed. My treat, because that’s what emergency credit cards are for.”
“Yeah! Who cares if your heater’s still busted?” Priya threw her hands up in the air.
I grinned at her. “You’re the cutest drunky drunk ever.”
“God, I so am.”
Jodie, our prehistoric server who’d perfected the art of dumping food on the table while texting, distributed our fries. I’d veered into poutine territory by ordering gravy, though after an unfortunate incident here involving cheese curds, I saved actual poutine for the Belgian Fry place on Commercial Drive near our apartment.
“Two more Kicks in the Balls, Jodie,” I said.
She spared a glance away from her screen. “Don’t tempt me.”
“Have I ever told you that you’re my model of misanthropy?”
“You’ve got to be able to do better than her,” Jodie said to Priya.
“Yeah,” she said, “but she’s trained and I’m kind of lazy.”
Jodie nodded like that was entirely reasonable and went to get our drinks.
We applauded Ruthie, and whooped when Jimmy, a dapper eighty-year-old in a fedora slanted low over his head, took the tiny stage to sing Sinatra’s “My Way.” Then we dug into our salty fried deliciousness. For fries that were crispy enough to snap when you broke them on the outside but soft and steamy on the inside with the right pow of salt content, Blondie’s was unparalleled.
Pri and I had a ritual. No talking until we were halfway through our massive platters of fries, because while they were superb when hot, cold was a whole other story. No wasting precious time with chatter.
At halftime, I popped the button on my new leather pants with a grunt, fanning out my fitted tank top. I’d wound a skinny metallic scarf around my neck like a choker to hide the bruises and hickey.
Priya dumped more ketchup on her plate. “What do you think Talia’ll do now that she knows your
magic is back?”
“Beats me. Depends if she thinks I’m a threat to her precious position.”
“What if she really isn’t involved? This was the second time she denied it.”
“Then who?” I ticked items off my fingers. “One, the tattoo happened in the hospital when, by her own admission, she stayed by my bedside. Two, she’d have had a front row seat to my magic showing up. Three, Yitzak called me a Jezebel, handmaiden of the goddess that Talia happened to name me after. She did it.”
I ticked off another finger.
“Four?” Priya said.
I shook my head, repeatedly ticking off that same finger. “Look how it bounces.”
She pushed a glass of water at me. “None of that explains why he helped her. Who compelled him?”
“If she found him, how hard would it be to find someone to force him against his will? Another reason for him to hate me.” I wiped off my face with a paper napkin. “I just wish I knew why she did it. She was still in law school then. Not a member of the Party yet.”
“Unless she was planning ahead,” Priya said. “Talia is a strategist.”
“Mmm. True.”
Kenneth, our karaoke host with the most, called Priya’s name.
“Darn. The food soaked up my booze.” She grabbed her untouched shot and slammed it back. When she stood up, she swayed on her high-heeled boots. “There’s the buzz. Whooooo!”
She ran up to the front like she’d been picked as a contestant on The Price is Right, high-fiving everyone.
Not content to stay on the stage, Priya strutted through the audience, ruffling hair, shaking her ass, and wagging her finger, all while dropping a word-perfect rendition of “Bust a Move.” Her face was lit up as she got everyone to sing back up for her.
There may have been an abundance of crap in my life but if that was the price to pay for having Priya, I’d happily pay it a hundred times over.
An hour later, I bundled her into a cab.
“Come home with me.” She tugged on my arm.
I fluttered my lashes at her. “Baby, I’ve waited forever for those words.”
“Where are you going?”
“A very short stop. I’m going to swing by Levi’s.”
“If it’s short then save yourself the trouble and use your vibrator.”
The cab driver turned around, blatantly eavesdropping.
I crouched down by the back seat so I could speak privately to her. “It’s not a booty call. There’s something else I learned at Talia’s office today and as my client I think I owe him the courtesy of telling him.”
She blew a raspberry at me. “Text him like a normal person.”
“I’m not confident about my phone’s security.” Talia had absolutely been spying on me because one chat at the aquarium did not constitute “hanging out” with Levi. Until Priya went through my cell and checked for any tracking apps, I wasn’t taking chances.
“I’ll be home soon,” I said.
“Fine,” she grumbled and shut the taxi door.
I patted the top twice and waved her off. While I was no longer hammered, I was still way past tipsy. I could justify this visit to Levi’s with security concerns, but it was brilliant-idea-o’clock and if I kissed him, I could have him because that’s how it worked in the dark.
Maybe, in the dark, Levi was my Moriarty. The one who could thrill me and lead me on the chase of my life. It wasn’t just his magic I craved.
My taxi dropped me off in front of his waterfront property on Point Grey Road, one of the most coveted streets to live on in the city. Levi lived in a Mediterranean-style villa painted a warm, mellow gold. I buzzed the intercom at the high fence.
“Yes?” Levi said.
“It’s Ash. I need to talk to you.”
“Can this wait until tomorrow?”
“I found out something about Talia that you need to know.”
“Oh. Uh, okay.” He buzzed me in and I walked up the short cobblestone driveway. The curtains were drawn on the ground floor windows so I couldn’t see in.
I knocked on his front door.
Levi answered wearing tailored slacks and a casual button-down shirt that clung to his biceps. I could have him stripped down in under thirty seconds. “Come in.”
On the wall behind him was an incredible painting of a boy seeming to come directly out of the frame, as if it was a trapdoor. More illusions. Dean Martin played through invisible speakers and the air was fragrant with garlic and tomato sauce.
I tried to snoop as Levi led me down a short hallway to his study, but I couldn’t see any other part.
The study was pretty basic with a utilitarian filing cabinet and generic office furniture. Compared to the personality in his office at work, this was merely an overflow outlet that he didn’t spend a lot of time in. Well, that would have been my assessment were it not for the large tank against one wall filled with a rainbow of tropical fish. A subdued blueish light filtered through the water. There were vivid orange fish with black V-stripes, skinny yellow guys with a thin red stripe and, the only fish I recognized, metallic blue and red neon tetras that swam languidly over multicolored pebbles.
Levi’s desk chair was angled to face his home aquarium and I pictured him unwinding here at the end of a stressful day and letting the fluid swimming of the fish wash his troubles away. He didn’t necessarily work in here much, but he dreamed in here. I’d lost myself in enough floating jellyfish tanks over the years to recognize the lure of an undersea escape.
I moved aside a green file to perch on the edge of a chair and keep the tank in view.
Levi hoisted himself onto his desk. “What’s up?”
Are we playing games with each other?
I cleared my throat. “It’s about Talia.”
He rubbed his chin and I tried not to remember how soft his skin was under his stubbled jawline. “The Party told the press about the virus,” he said. “It’s an excuse to finally get us under their thumb.”
“While they’re confirming your involvement with the third-party smudges.” I nodded. “Remember that woman in hot pink who was fairly insistent about the House being behind the smudges at the auction? She works for my mother. I met her today.”
“How did they find out about the smudges? Or the auction? It wasn’t public knowledge outside the criminal fringe.” Levi absently reached for a container of fish food on his desk, then crossed to the aquarium. He shook flakes into the water, the fish darting to the surface to nip the food. “Talia’s tight with them, is she?”
“No, but she’s chummy with Daniel Hughes, the criminal defense lawyer.” The man who’d mentioned he had information he thought Talia would be interested in, the night of the gala.
Levi shook the fish food another couple of times, his movements more forceful. When he turned from the tank, his look was inscrutable. “Why are you telling me? Talia is your mother. I’m just your…”
I waited with bated breath to see how he’d finish that sentence.
“You don’t owe me this confidence,” he said.
“I don’t owe Talia anything either.” I was about to tell him about what she’d done, when someone cleared their throat softly behind me.
“Hi. Sorry for interrupting. The timer went off for the pasta.” A stunning redhead in a simple black dress stood at the door holding a glass of red wine.
I recognized her immediately. Dr. Caitlin Ryan, a Mundane, who’d recently gotten a lot of press pioneering some new procedure for early breast cancer detection.
“I didn’t realize you were entertaining.” Despite giving the wish my all, the ground did not open to swallow me whole.
“No worries,” Caitlin said. “My work phoned at least four times before Levi poured the wine. I’ll take the pasta off.” She gave a little wave and left.
I should have stopped drinking two Kicks in the Balls ago. I swallowed against the metallic taste in my mouth. The names I’d called Levi over the years were legion but douchebag had never be
en one of them. “You neglected to mention your girlfriend.”
“My what?” He frowned.
“Dr. Ryan.”
“I see lots of people but if you’re implying I’m exclusive with someone, I’m not.” He got all frosty. “If I was seeing someone, I wouldn’t cheat.”
“Maybe you don’t consider it cheating when only one of us got off.”
“Cheating is cheating.”
My relief was hollow. I hadn’t wanted him to be that guy. That’s all it was. “I’ll take your word for it. But if that’s the kind of woman you usually date, you’re way outside your comfort zone hanging around with me. I’m nothing like her.”
“Stop selling yourself short.”
I laughed bitterly. “I wasn’t.” I stood up. “I’ll see myself out. And note to self, don’t bug you outside office hours.”
“Wait.” He jumped off the desk. “We made this date weeks ago.”
“You're my client. You don’t owe me an explanation.” My heart was hammering and I eyed the distance to the door, calculating my chances of escape before I exploded in a ball of humiliation, an emotion I was becoming too familiar with when Levi was concerned.
He ran his thumb in slow strokes over my palm and damn if that tiny gesture wasn’t erotic enough to make me shiver. “I had my fingers inside you last night. You called my name when you came. I’m a bit more than your client.”
“You were also ill-advised, right?” I pulled away. “I’d had a shock. You were there and did an admirable job of getting my mind off things. Thank you for your service.”
“Ma vaffanculo. So anyone would have done?”
“Well, they’d have to be pretty. I do have standards.” I relished the tick of his jaw.
Neither of us moved, but fuck, how I wished he would. I’d lied so hard and I wanted him to call me out for it. No one else would have done, not last night and not now. I’d never experienced half the chemistry with anyone as I’d had with Levi and now that that genie was out of the bottle, I didn’t know how to put him back. I wanted Levi to shove me up against the wall, his lips on mine and overwhelm me. I wanted him hard and hot inside me, pounding into me until I was boneless from pleasure.
Blood & Ash: A Snarky Urban Fantasy Detective Series (The Jezebel Files Book 1) Page 20