Shadows & Surrender: A Snarky Urban Fantasy Detective Series (The Jezebel Files Book 3)

by Deborah Wilde

  Ten more minutes until anyone was expected. I flipped through A Study in Scarlet, but it didn’t yield any more clues than the other forty-two times I’d perused it. With a long-suffering sigh, I dropped into my chair, my hands folded primly in front of me and my leg jiggling.

  Priya winged a stress ball at me. “Quit it. You’re rocking my fancy desk.” Her phone rang. “It’s my House cyber crew.” Answering the phone, she walked out of our office.

  Rafael was the first one to arrive, at five minutes before the 10AM start time. Today’s ensemble consisted of another bowtie, this one blue to match his shirt, over which he wore a light brown vest and matching plaid tweed jacket.

  Under other circumstances, his early arrival would have been a good omen of where we stood, but though he smelled like tea and first edition novels, he looked like this was the last place in the world he wanted to be.

  I waved him to a seat. “About the other night—”

  “Unless your other team members are tardy,” Rafael said in his poshest and most clipped voice, “they will be arriving at any moment. There is no reason to hash out your shortcomings when it is imperative that you conduct yourself as befitting a Jezebel.”

  “My shortcomings?”

  Priya strolled in. “Well, hello, professor. Welcome to the colonies. I’m Priya.”

  Rafael got this befuddled look as he shook her hand. “You’re not what I was expecting.”

  “I hope that’s a good thing,” she said, with a toss of her hair.

  Jesus. Kill me now. Wasn’t there some sister code about chicks before Dickensian-looking extras who your best friend had snacked off of? I might have made a mistake in not getting her up to speed on what had gone down between the two of us. Not down. There had been no going down on anyone. It was a business transaction. I mentally winced. Hostile takeover?

  “Pri,” I said, “could you give us a moment?”

  “No need.” Rafael studied the copious amounts of food laid out on the desks. “Are you expecting rather more of us than you said?”

  “Muffin Top is an exceptionally good bakery and I’m very hungry,” I said. “I don’t fault them for having such enthralling products, but if I did get too attached, I’d hoped I be honest about how badly I craved it. Admitting the problem is the first step.”

  A muscle in Rafael’s jaw tensed. “Good thing my willpower and self-control is top notch. I doubt I’ll fall prey to the same temptations you do.”

  I gasped. How dare he pin this all on me? Priya shot me a weird look.

  Levi showed before I could respond, right on the dot of ten. He was in his most suited-up House Head self, complete with cuff links, tie, and leather briefcase.

  “Levi Montefiore, this is Rafael Behar,” I said.

  “The man who’s contracted our services,” Rafael said. “I must say, I was surprised you agreed to take on this fight. Most wouldn’t.”

  “Most don’t have a stake in it.” Levi set his briefcase on my desk and tossed his suit jacket over a chair. Any other territory he wanted to mark? “Chariot is undermining my House. I don’t take that lightly.”

  “So long as you realize that your House is only one concern in a global problem,” Rafael said. “If it comes to gaining an edge on Chariot or actively protecting your House, I trust you know exactly what decision my Jezebel and I will have to make.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of impeding our quest to annihilate Chariot,” Levi said, formality cutting off him in sharp edges. “And she’s not your Jezebel.”

  “Right. We’re a team, so I guess technically I’m everyone’s Jezebel.” I rolled my eyes. “Can we please pretend like we’re listening to me?”

  “Then it’s a pleasure to be working with you,” Rafael said to Levi.

  Their handshake was a touch longer and more forceful than necessary.

  Person most likely to upend harmonious vibes of new team = X.

  Do not solve for X.

  Priya jumped in and hit Rafael with her infallible charm, asking him all kinds of questions about England and his move here. His expression remained vaguely suspicious, like he wasn’t used to talking about himself.

  “Any reason you’re channeling a Jewish grandmother with all the food?” Levi dragged the chair with his jacket draped over it up next to mine and opened his briefcase. “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

  I closed my eyes briefly, inhaling the comforting smell of his oaky amber scotch and chocolate magic scent. Calm rolled over me. Then the unbidden taste of Rafael’s cool, clear magic rose on my lips, and I rolled my chair farther away.

  “Evil won’t be defeated on an empty stomach.” I waved a hand like this explained everything, really just trying to clear away Rafael’s magic. “Anyway, it’ll give us something to snack on while we’re waiting for Arkady.”

  Levi extracted a slim case, which he unzipped and set on my desk with the excited pride of a parent who’s nailed their kid’s birthday present.

  I frowned. “Why do you have a set of lock picks?”

  Levi heaved a disappointed sigh and removed a basic brass cylinder lock common to most front doors with the bolt slid out. He set it next to the case. “I trained you. You train me.”

  “You did exactly one training session before abandoning me to seek help elsewhere.”

  “Semantics. Now, how do I pick a lock? I’ve wanted to know ever since that time the camp staff took away our candy stashes and locked them up. Miles would never teach me.”

  I primly clicked the bolt shut. “Because it’s not something a House Head should go around doing.”

  “Come on, Ash.” He unlocked it again and gave me a cajoling grin. “Miles is the grumpy one, you’re the fun one. Which pick do I use?”

  Even if he mastered this skill, when could he really use it? Plus, it would piss Miles off.

  Levi’s eyes shone brightly and I caved.

  I snatched the ridged pick rake out of his hand, replacing it with another tool. “Tension wrench. We’ll go with the fast and dirty method. Scrubbing. Essentially, you use the wrench to apply tension on the plug inside the lock, while with the pick lock, you lift the pins inside, clearing the shear line.”

  Levi’s mouth silently repeated the words as I said them, like they were a spell he was committing to memory or he was afraid he’d lose them if he didn’t practice. His eyes never left my hands. Like all this was a magic trick, and if he blinked, he’d miss it.

  I demonstrated how to insert the wrench into the bottom of the keyhole. “Apply the tiniest bit of pressure and turn it like you would a key. But don’t bend the wrench too much.”

  Levi took the wrench from me and started practicing, following my instructions with a dogged thoroughness, a tiny smile playing on his lips.

  Arkady arrived with a muted wave of apology. “Sorry. I was on the North Shore and there was an accident on the bridge that tied up traffic for two hours.”

  “Arkady Choi,” I said, “Rafael Behar.”

  “Good to meet you,” Arkady said.

  “Likewise,” Rafael replied. No bruises were incurred in their handshake.

  “Mrs. Pugson, we meet again,” Arkady said, helping himself to coffee with a liberal splash of milk. “Don’t let me disturb your rutting.”

  The dog had whined until I’d brought along the damn squeaky cow toy, which she now used to conduct an experiment in friction and her nether regions.

  “They’re courting,” I said. “Avert your eyes.”

  Arkady took the seat next to me.

  I dug in to a jelly donut. Getting through this meeting was going to require sugar. “Rafael, help yourself. I’ve got a ton of food here.”

  “No, thank you,” he said. “I don’t eat sugary treats in the morning. I had yogurt and granola.”

  “Surely, one little scone couldn’t hurt.” Priya wagged a flaky triangle pastry at him like the snake in the garden of Eden. “We could split one.”

  Pri’s flirting generally had more subtlety t
han a missile guidance system. This wasn’t merely interest, it was a new and more exotic coping mechanism, with an Ash-shaped complication.

  Why did it have to be Rafael of all people who’d cracked her shell?

  However, the ever-present flutter of anxiety when I was around Priya lately eased at the sparkle in her eyes and the mirth in her smile, and Rafael wasn’t engaging beyond polite friendliness, so what harm could it do?

  Not to mention, that polite friendliness was a heck of a lot better than what he’d thrown at Levi and me. Maybe Priya was my ticket to lowering Rafael’s guard enough for him and me to have a serious talk.

  “The straights are at it again,” Arkady said quietly to me, nibbling on a muffin. “How many couples are we going to have on this mission?”

  I sarcastically took a huge chomp of my jelly donut in his general direction as a response. Yeah, it was going to be weird if this kept up, but she wasn’t the Priya I could talk to about everything anymore. And I wasn’t the Ash who felt comfortable barging into her life all the time.

  “You’d do well to improve your eating habits,” Rafael was saying. To me. “A Jezebel needs to be in tip-top condition, and a proper diet is the first step in mental and physical clarity.”

  Levi barked a laugh. “This is Ash we’re talking about.”

  I elbowed him and in return he stole a piece of my donut. “I’ll take that under advisement,” I said.

  “No, you won’t,” Levi said.

  “No, I won’t,” I agreed cheerfully.

  Rafael took my plate with the donut away from me. “Without you operating at your best, you put us all at a serious disadvantage.”

  I snatched the plate back. “We all need to bring our A-game,” I said, trotting out my best “playing nicely” smile. “Let’s just get this meeting going. Pri, could you please shut the door?” I selected the lock pick with three ridges and slapped it into Levi’s hand. “Insert this at the top of the lock. Keep the pressure up with the wrench and scrub the pick back and forth.” I mimed the motion. “Rafael, why don’t you give us a short history of Jezebels?”

  “Wait. I have an update before we get started,” Arkady said. “Remember the two men we captured when we rescued those teens Chariot was stealing magic from? They committed suicide.”

  My bite of donut stuck in my throat. “In a maximum security prison?”

  Arkady ripped off a piece of banana chocolate chip muffin. “Handy, huh? Apparently, they didn’t want to do time and were pressing for immunity in exchange for a deal to expose some higher-ups.”

  “If they didn’t realize the nature of the people they were dealing with,” Rafael said, “they were too stupid to live and best removed from the gene pool.”

  Levi nodded approvingly, his head bent over the lock.

  Arkady had spoken to some of the kids we’d rescued as well, who’d assured him that Tatiana’s experiments had not been conducted on them.

  “That’s a relief,” I said. “Okay, Rafael. You’re up.”

  To Rafael’s credit, slim though it was, he delivered a clear and precise summation of Jezebels’ history, worthy of the finest university professor.

  “All Jezebels are descendants of their namesake, with the potentials’ bloodlines traveling through the mother, like in Judaism,” Rafael said, in conclusion to this portion of the lecture.

  Levi nudged me. “I’ll pay you one hundred bucks to tell that to Talia.”

  “Get real. That’s worth at least a cool five hundred. Besides, I’m saving it for a special occasion,” I said.

  Arkady raised his hand. “Is anyone else having trouble with the fact that we’re talking about a goddess like she was some random historical figure? Goddess, people. Original divas who are only supposed to exist in myth and legend?”

  Priya raised her hand. After a second, Levi joined her. I shrugged and threw in with the rest of them.

  Rafael gave a tiny smirk. “I shudder to think how you’ll all handle it when I bring up angels.”

  Arkady thunked his head on the desk.

  “Angels?” Priya said weakly. “First there are goddesses walking around, and now we have angels, too?”

  “Get ready for your minds to be blown,” I said and cracked my knuckles, “because the real fun part? Nefesh magic is diluted angel magic.”

  Arkady patted down his chest and arms. “I’ve been touched by an angel? Where?”

  Priya brayed like a donkey, and Levi made some joke about how they’d all been touched by angels at some point, and Rafael looked extremely uncomfortable again.

  Ladies and gentlemen, my team. “Never a dull moment in Jezebel investigations.”

  Chapter 12

  Rafael moved on to the Sefer Raziel HaMalakh and the scroll breaking apart when it fell to Earth.

  I stifled a yawn as he explained in unnecessary detail about how difficult the second piece had been to obtain.

  Levi pulled out the lock pick, turning to me with a forlorn look. “Help,” he whispered.

  Blinking away my stupor, I covered each of his hands with mine, adjusting his hold. They were warm and strong, but he yielded completely to me.

  “While Jezebels are given strength to aid them in the fight,” Rafael said, frowning at me, “that isn’t their prime talent.”

  I snapped my attention back to him, hands folded on my desk.

  “You don’t have to be the strongest,” Arkady said. “It’s like how Frodo, a seemingly unremarkable little hobbit, was the best ring bearer because he could resist its lure.”

  Rafael nodded smugly. “Quite.”

  “Nerds,” I muttered, my eyes darting back to Levi. There was the cutest littlest dip between his brows, drawn together in intense concentration, while he bit his bottom lip with even white teeth.

  “How many pieces do we still need to find?” Priya said.

  Rafael smoothed down the front of his vest. “We have three of the five pieces that make up the Sefer and Chariot has one.”

  “How can you be certain?” Levi said.

  “The pillars that house the pieces were also a gift from Asherah. Each pillar with a scroll in our possession is lit up. When Chariot gets a scroll, a pillar goes actively dark, and for any scrolls unclaimed by either side, the corresponding number of pillars remain neutral in appearance. When Gavriella flatlined, she’d just stolen one of the scrolls away from Chariot.”

  “Right before my powers activated,” I said. “About fifteen years ago. The message.” I flipped open A Study in Scarlet. “The ‘3’ stands for our pieces of the scroll and the first ‘1’ is for theirs. But there’s a question mark after the second ‘1.’ My father didn’t actually claim to have the scroll, he just dangled the possibility.” I licked a smear of sugar off my finger. “What’s the criteria for a pillar going dark, thereby confirming Chariot has one of the pieces?”

  “As far as we can ascertain, one of the Ten must take possession of it,” Rafael said.

  “If Adam had the scroll,” Arkady said, “he’d have handed it over and the pillar would darken.”

  I shook my head. “You’re not thinking of this like a con. Chariot has had over four hundred years to amass information on the Jezebels, and I guarantee that my father combed through all of it. If there was even the slightest possibility they knew about the pillars…?” I glanced at Rafael.

  “They might,” he said.

  “Then my father would have made sure our side couldn’t know for certain one way or the other whether he was telling the truth. That would have been part of the lure with the coded message. All the Ten had to do was not technically take possession of the scroll for Adam’s con to work. Leave it with Adam to hide. As for Adam not making contact in the end?” I filled them in on my theory.

  “If you’re right,” Priya said, “then we don’t know whether that one scroll is still in play or not.”

  “What are the chances of you turning your dad to our side?” Arkady said. “Because we could use someone like him.”
<
br />   “And yet we have someone like me,” I said waspishly. “The actual Jezebel.”

  “Pickle, don’t be jealous. It’s unseemly.”

  “What do we know about the missing piece?” I said.

  “It has an interesting history,” Rafael said. “I assume you all know of Hitler’s obsession with the occult?” Off our murmured assent, he continued. “The Nazis forced Jews to register their possessions. At first it was the more valuable items like artwork, stocks, books. That was extended to dishes, toys, even family photos. This was part of Hitler’s campaign to stamp out all Jewish identity, but it was also a way for him to root out precious occult items. He coveted the Sefer.” Rafael was completely in his element. “There was even more historical precedence for Jews being tied to supernatural objects. In 1713, Rabbi Hirsch Frankel was sentenced to imprisonment in Germany on the basis of having a library of books said to contain examples of sorcery, such as how to use oaths and amulets to overcome demons, see the future, and speak to the dead.”

  “Jews were responsible for bringing magic into the world, which gave Hitler a focal point for his hatred,” Levi said. “They had it. Hitler didn’t.”

  “Smarter than you look,” I murmured.

  “Not on everything.” Levi scowled at the lock.

  When my dad had taught me how to pick locks, I was eight and it seemed like the hardest thing in the world. I’d felt clumsy and confused, but he’d never let me keep on feeling that way. He knew that it took time. And when I’d finally gotten it, he took me out for a towering sundae with all the toppings that made us both sick, but we agreed had been totally worth it.

  “You’ve lifted three of the five key pins,” I said. “It just takes practice. You got this.”

  Levi rolled out his shoulders one at a time. “Hell yeah, I do.”

  “Ironic that this obsession with supernatural power was something that Chariot and Hitler shared,” Arkady said.

  “What’s ironic,” Rafael said, “was that during WWII our side formed a sort of truce with Chariot, acknowledging Nazis as the greater threat. We both wanted to keep the missing scroll out of their hands. While we weren’t going to help each other, there was a tacit agreement not to hinder each other, either. A Jezebel in 1943 tracked the piece to a Jewish family in Germany, but by the time she got into the war-torn area, the family had been deported to Dachau and all their possessions seized.”