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

by Deborah Wilde

  Dizzy, I crashed against the wall. My flashlight tumbled to the floor, illuminating the ceiling above the bunk. The seam between two of the tiles was slightly misaligned.

  I grabbed Arkady and tugged him to the bunk, pointing up.

  He jumped up and punched the ceiling, revealing a trap door that was easily accessible once you stood on the mattress. He hauled himself through it and I quickly followed, kicking the trapdoor shut behind us.

  Coughing, we gulped down fresh air. All was dark and creepy as fuck, but when the first fluorescent light clicked on, casting a whitish-blue glow, I almost jumped out of my skin.

  “Motion detector,” Arkady said.

  My eyes were so puffy that I could barely see the prison hallway we stood in. It was the one from the poster, a long metal corridor lined with closed cells. At the far end was a metal door.

  “I hate haunted houses where actors jump out at you.” I shone my flashlight into the nearest cell to assure myself it was empty. “I would never have come here.”

  Our footsteps squeaked as we inched forward, shoulder-to-shoulder.

  No one attacked us or tried to gas us out. We reached the exit without incident and tested the knob. The door was unlocked, though we kept it closed.

  “They wouldn’t just arm the first level,” Arkady said. “Something’s going to happen when we open this.”

  “Guillotine? Poisoned arrows? Giant boulder falling on our heads?”

  “No boulder or rocks,” he said. “I’d sense them.”

  If the boobytrap was manual, there was no way to suss it out. But if it wasn’t? I touched the door. Not even the faintest tingle of magic, so there was no ward.

  “Here goes nothing.” I opened the door.

  A dozen eyes snapped open and golems swarmed us, the fluorescents from the hallway giving them an eerie glow.

  “Whoa.” Arkady’s eyes lit up.

  It was all well and good that I’d told Arkady about my previous run-in and the way to power them down, but we still had to get close enough to rub the “aleph” off of them and we were outnumbered.

  Arkady brought his stone fists up, clearing a path through the room. Three of them dog-piled him, his grunts the only sign he was okay.

  I manifested a pike with a curved blade. Going with the tried and true, I jabbed it at the closest golem.

  He lunged for it, but I danced back into the corridor, and he followed like I was the pied piper of golems. Soon as he was in striking range, I swung the blade through his knees, lobbing one calf off.

  The golem toppled over then stretched out his arms and dragged himself toward me. I slammed the blade down into the top of his head, slicing right through the Hebrew letters carved into his clay forehead. That worked. He shuddered and fell still.

  Leaving the embedded pike where it was, I wiped a smear of golem off my cheek and called up two daggers. The two other golems clambered over the body of their fallen comrade.

  Firing daggers into the letters didn’t stop them.

  Head down, I rushed one. He grabbed me around the waist and slammed me into the wall. Fire wracked through my left shoulder, but I held on to his forearm like he was an amusement park ride, sending my magic inside him and hooking into his.

  His next Wrestlemania move landed me on my back, the wind knocked out of me. Oh, to be able to use my blood armor right now. My shoulder screamed in agony and my head wasn’t feeling too hot either, but the rush of taking his magic, though far, far weaker than it had been with Mr. Sharp, amped me up enough to tear away the magic animating him and destroy it.

  The golem’s lifeless body fell on top of me. I shoved him off in time for my third attacker to grab me by the hair and lift me up.

  “Son of a bitch!” My scalp was going to rip free. Luckily, he’d brought me eye level with him. I reached out and scraped that pesky “aleph” off, flicking the clay against the wall.

  The golem toppled like a Douglas fir, but I got clear, remaining upright. Jumping the bodies, I ran back to Arkady. He’d killed two of them and was sitting on the third, systematically caving in its skull. He was covered in clay, a terrifyingly blank look on his face.

  His next punch took it out for good, but Arkady didn’t stop whaling on it.

  “Arkady.” I whistled sharply.

  He looked at me, fist in mid-air, and blinked back to awareness. He slowly lowered his hand, his cheeks flushing, and got to his feet, avoiding eye contact.

  “So I never shared the part where I have blood magic and can rip out people’s magic leaving them a broken mess,” I blurted out.

  He was silent for a moment, and then his lips quirked in a grin. “What’s a couple of exceedingly unnerving dysfunctions between friends?”

  “Dysfunction is the new black.”

  We shared a bittersweet look of perfect understanding.

  I kicked aside a golem corpse. “Where are all the lady golems? Obviously only men are creating these monsters.”

  Arkady kicked a path to the next door. “Let’s see what other treats they have in store.”

  There weren’t any.

  “That’s the trouble with evil villains,” I said, when we’d cleared the remaining two escape room sets without incident. “They get too minion dependent. Bites them in the ass every time.”

  The final room had a “Congratulations” banner and a chalk scoreboard with past successful escapees. There was another bathroom and a red exit door, that I presumed led out the back of the building.

  “We did not just do all that for nothing,” I said.

  “Ash.” Arkady put his fingers to his lips, peering through the exit door that he’d cracked a fraction of an inch.

  I clapped my hand over my gasp.

  Four people in filthy, shapeless clothing were crammed into a cage probably liberated from the cannibal escape room. It was too short for them to stand up, so they either were on their knees or lay on their sides on the floor.

  Another cage stood empty beside it.

  In the center of the room was a chair. An older woman was chained to it, the dozens of thick coils binding her almost cartoonish in their excess. Every inch of her was battered and dried blood clotted her nostrils and caked her lashes.

  One of her hands was bent at the wrist at an unnatural angle and I wasn’t positive she was conscious. Or alive.

  “Understood.” Two men, one of whom was on the phone, stepped into the room through a gap between two thick sheets of black plastic taped from ceiling to floor. He finished his call and then jerked his chin at the cage. “Finish up. I’ll load the bodies.”

  Bodies? I glanced at the empty cage.

  He disappeared back behind the plastic.

  The second man took out a set of keys, inserting one in the cage with the people.

  My vision clouded in a red haze. I ran at him and slammed his head against the bars.

  He slumped to the floor.

  Arkady had already sprinted after the first man.

  Relieving this man of his keys, I dragged him into the empty cage and locked him in. Then I opened the first cage door.

  “You’re safe,” I said softly. “Come out.”

  The prisoners hunched deeper into themselves.

  “Meryem? Are you here? Charlotte Rose sent me to find you.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the tears at bay. “It’s me. Ash. We met before.”

  Finally one of the figures turned toward me. It was Meryem, her dark eyes wide and haunted. A bruise bloomed along her jawline.

  I curled my fingers into my palms, keeping my voice calm. “Sweetheart, did they… did they take your magic?”

  She shook her head. “Charlotte Rose really sent you?”

  “I swear.”

  “You’re all safe. You can come out.” I moved away from the cage so they wouldn’t feel intimidated by my presence and moved to the woman, who had a faint pulse. I tried every key on the ring until I found the one that fit the fat padlock around her waist.

  She was so wea
k that when the chains loosened, she fell forward into my arms.

  A shock ran through me, as our skin, our magic, connected.

  She peered at me through swollen eyes. “You.”

  “Are you a Jezebel?” I held her emaciated frame carefully. This woman was as much a victim as those kids.

  “Yes.”

  “Are there any more of you here?”

  She shook her head. “We looked for you. Couldn’t find you.”

  “That’s not important right now,” I lied. “I need to get you out of here first.”

  Her answer was lost in a coughing fit that brought up specks of blood.

  Arkady stepped through the plastic. “The other target is subdued.”

  I frantically beckoned him over. “Help her!”

  The Jezebel whispered something that I didn’t catch. I pressed my ear to her lips.

  “Risen again,” she whispered. “We have to stop them.”

  “Who?” I said.

  She motioned feebly to the cages. “Chariot. Promise.”

  I’d meant who was “we” because that sounded suspiciously like an organized group of fellow Jezebels who’d have expectations and shit. But she gazed at me so impassioned that I didn’t have the heart to clarify.

  “I promise.”

  She squeezed my arm and fell still.

  “Give her mouth-to-mouth,” I demanded.

  Arkady shook his head sadly. “She’s gone, Ash. Look at her.”

  I closed her eyes, uncertain of what to feel. Grief? Anger? Anxiety?

  The kids had shuffled out of the cage, holding hands.

  “Ash?” Meryem stood at the front of their hesitant procession. She looked so lost.

  I’d found the kids, but instead of the thrill of victory, I was pierced with sharp hooks of helplessness. Rescuing them didn’t close this chapter, that would require a lot of healing from their emotional and physical fallout, and I wasn’t equipped to handle that. But I couldn’t just turn them loose, either.

  One step at a time.

  I pasted on a bright smile. “We’re going to get you out of here now, okay?”

  She nodded, sending a ripple of agreement down the line to the last person, a gangly male with a limp.

  Life was a series of choices. Taking Sharp’s magic had been one of my darkest ones, but it had led me here. If pressed to do it all again, I wasn’t sure I’d do anything differently.

  A door banged open, thudding boot heels growing closer.

  Whimpering, the kids crowded together. I threw myself in front of them like a shield. Whoever this was would have to kill me to get to them.

  Three people in anonymous tactical gear entered. None of them were familiar to me.

  I grabbed my Taser from my jacket pocket with one hand and manifested a blood dagger in the other.

  “Ash. Stand down. It’s Levi’s people,” Arkady said.

  How could he be sure? Unlike Miles’ team or even the Queen’s, there were no identifying marks.

  One scanned the room, then said, “clear,” into a mic clipped to his lapel.

  Levi stepped through the plastic, accompanied by six paramedics and a kind-looking woman with an iPad. He had dark circles under his eyes and his shirt was wrinkled. Mildly so, but on Levi the effect was profound.

  Meryem clutched the back of my shirt.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.” I stuffed the weapons in my leather jacket.

  One of the paramedics carefully scooped the Jezebel up and removed her from the room, while another took the chair. A couple of Levi’s people worked on moving the cages out of there so the kids wouldn't have to see them anymore–or the still-imprisoned man who’d been one of their jailors.

  The woman approached me. “Ms. Cohen? I’m Sarah Blumfeld. I’m a social worker.” She smiled gently at Meryem. “Would it be all right if these paramedics checked you all out? Your friend can stay here with you.”

  Meryem held me tighter, but she nodded.

  The paramedics tended to these kids with patience, compassion, and tenderness. They even made a couple of them laugh. Thank god, they could still laugh.

  Sarah explained to me all the resources that Levi was putting at these kids’ disposal, including a safe place to live, meals, and treatment for as long as they needed it.

  “How are they supposed to get over this?” She stabbed angrily at her iPad. “I want to kill someone.”

  “Get in line,” I said.

  Meryem tugged on my sleeve. “Can I use your phone and call Charlotte Rose?”

  “I think that’s probably fine, but let me check with Mr. Montefiore.” I approached Levi who was chatting with Arkady.

  The two of them stood together with the body language of two people who knew each other, angled inward. People who were close usually left a very small private distance between them, whereas if someone was standing away from a group with their arms folded, that person was most likely a stranger. Or pissed off.

  Which I most definitely was.

  “Meryem wants to call her girlfriend,” I said in a tight voice. “Any reason she can’t?”

  “No.” Levi studied me. “You still mad about me taking you off the case?”

  “Among other things.”

  Arkady stepped back but I hauled him back in to our little circle. “Call off your spy, Levi. Good pick, though. I really believed he wanted to be my friend.”

  Levi’s brows knit together and then he burst out laughing. “You think I sent Arkady to spy on you? Why? I already have the complete file.”

  I planted my hands on my hips. “So his living next door was a big fat coincidence?”

  “Pretty much,” Arkady said. “I didn’t even know you two were friends.”

  “We’re not,” Levi and I said.

  “What about all that mixed martial arts stuff?” I jabbed Arkady in the chest. “Your background check held.”

  Levi laughed again. “Welcome to the paranoid mind of Ashira Cohen.”

  Arkady glared at him. “Could you not? Pickle, I am in the league. It keeps my fighting skills up and it’s a handy cover story since my work for Levi is so hush-hush. Not that there’s been much work lately.” He brightened. “This was fun. I like golems.”

  Golems. Arkady had earth magic and golems were clay, so why hadn’t he sensed them? Or had he and lied about it? Oh, Arkady, if you’re running a con, you picked the wrong person.

  “Good. I foresee many more adventures together,” I said.

  “You may apologize now,” Levi said to me.

  I shot him the finger and went back to the kids.

  Chapter 22

  It took hours before we’d settled the Nefesh, the oldest of whom was barely nineteen, in their new home, and stocked them up with food and clean clothes. Sarah wasn’t just any social worker, Levi had hired her to live on site and work exclusively with them, starting with tracking down any family that they wanted to reconnect with.

  I typed her number into my contacts. “When did Levi hire you?”

  “Monday morning.”

  “He did all this in two days?”

  “When you refuse to take ‘no’ for an answer and have the money to remove potential roadblocks, you can achieve anything.”

  “Sure, but even rejigging budgets to free up House cash would take time.”

  “This wasn’t the House. Levi is paying out of his own pocket so these kids don’t get caught up in red tape.”

  Fuck. I was going to have to apologize to him.

  With Levi’s, Sarah’s, and Victoria’s permission, Meryem had been allowed to stay at Charlotte Rose’s place. Apparently, Victoria had kicked her husband out.

  We’d barely pulled into their driveway, the front porch lights casting a cheery glow on the cool night, when Meryem scrambled out of the car, Charlotte Rose running across the lawn toward her. The girls crashed into each other crying and hugging.

  Seriously adorable.

  I walked over to Victoria. “
You sure this is okay? There’s a lot of trauma. It’s not going to be easy.”

  “Nothing worthwhile ever is,” Victoria said. “Sarah is going to come by tomorrow, set up therapy, private tutoring when Meryem’s up to it, and make sure her uncle has no legal claim to her custody.” She flicked a gaze over me from head-to-toe. “You want some tea before you hit the road?”

  I glanced at my phone. “Geez. It’s after midnight. No, I’m gonna go. Call me if you need anything. Hey, girls, I’m off. Uh, okay.” I patted them on the tops of their heads as they squashed me in a giant hug.

  This wasn’t the worst.

  C.R. looked up at me. “Oh, the babysitting money.”

  “Forget it, kid.” I squeezed them back. “It’s paid in full.”

  This case was closed and their joyful reactions made all the obstacles I’d faced worth it.

  I drove Moriarty around for a while, changing radio stations as I tooled around the quiet city streets, but there wasn’t even a whisper of the lab. How’d Levi manage that?

  It had been less than a week since I’d learned about the ward. All I’d wanted was to know who had put the tattoo on me, so sure that answers equaled certainty, answers equaled closure, and though the truth could be hard to hear, it was always better to have it.

  The joke was on me. Not only would I pay good money to not know what I was capable of, all the answers had done was lead to more questions. What made a Jezebel and why were there no records of us? Why did we have blood magic? Who or what was Chariot and why was it on us to stop them? What was my father’s connection?

  The euphoria of taking Sharp’s magic had masked the horror and lulled me into believing in destiny. Except I didn’t. Life was what we made of it, I just wasn’t sure what to make of mine. There was a team out there searching for me, expecting me to join them in this fight. Did free will come into it? What if I didn’t believe in the cause?

  What if I didn’t want to be a weapon?

  I cut the engine in front of Levi’s house, my feet carrying me up to his intercom before my brain could register a logical protest, and leaned on the buzzer.