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

by Deborah Wilde

  Behind me, Alfie wheezed, spasming. The black lines had invaded every inch of exposed skin.

  It was a minor miracle that the Queen’s guard hadn’t arrived to check out the commotion and cause problems, because saving Alfie was my utmost concern. But how? He was barely breathing. There was no time to find him a healer and if there was no antidote, then he’d die.

  Unless…

  “Hold on, Alfie.” Running like the hounds of Hell were nipping at my heels, I sprinted down the fire escape, and ripped Mayan’s necklace off.

  She clawed at me, biting my arm, so I decked her. Her head lolled back against the dusty street. Unconscious was safer than dead. It may not have been the most optimal overall, but if we broadened the definition of “unharmed” from “not a scratch on her” to “still breathing, thanks to yours truly” then I hadn’t broken my promise to Levi.

  I hauled ass back to Alfie and pressed the pendant against his skin. His eyes fluttered shut.

  I forced his mouth open and made him lick it.

  His heart stopped beating.

  With a strangled roar, I shattered the stone in my fist.

  Blue powder erupted in a puff, coating Alfie’s face.

  There was a sizzling noise and the smell of bitter licorice, then the black lines on his face disappeared.

  “Come on.” Tossing back the covers, I ripped his pajamas open, rubbing the powder into, well, not every inch of him, but all the PG inches. I left his underwear intact.

  His ribcage jerked once before falling into a steady, if slow breathing. The black lines were gone, and when I sent my magic inside, I confirmed that he was poison-free.

  One murder charge down. One problematic woman to bring home so I could solve what, exactly, was going on.

  Alfie opened his eyes. “Gunter?”

  “You’re safe. Do you need a healer?”

  He wiggled his fingers and toes and took a couple of deep breaths. “No. You saved me.”

  “No more stealing people’s shit, okay?”

  He gave a shaky laugh. “No promises.”

  Grabbing my clutch, I climbed out onto the fire escape to find Mayan’s prone body surrounded by two of the Queen’s Guard, both with mesh covering their faces. They were determining whether or not to lift her. I jogged down to them.

  “I’ve got this, thanks,” I said.

  One of the guards, a woman from her build, crossed her arms. “Who are you?”

  “Her sister. Idiot had too much to drink and fell.”

  “You want help?” she said.

  “Enhanced strength. I’m good.” I’d gotten Mayan on her feet, my arm around her waist, supporting her, when she woke up and started screaming that I’d tried to kill her.

  She moved with a flailing panic.

  “She’s lying,” I said. I tried to grab Mayan, accidentally elbowing the second guard who was attempting to help her.

  The first guard blasted me back against a streetlamp with some kind of psionic wave. The metal post clipped me hard in my shoulder blade and I swore loudly.

  Priya’s beloved tiara snapped into two pieces, clattering to the ground, and bouncing along in a half-roll until they came to a stop.

  I gasped, but it was a clean break. I could fix it.

  “Don’t move.” Producing a pair of magic suppressing cuffs, the first guard advanced on me.

  Did the Black Heart Rule apply to the Queen’s Guard? If Mayan escaped, I might never have the chance to question her and stop this once and for all. However, if I saved myself by attacking the guards, I might well end up a living statue in the Queen’s garden.

  Alfie! He’d corroborate my story.

  “I can prove—” I began.

  The guard with the cuffs deliberately stepped on one half of the tiara, grinding the crystals to dust.

  An inhuman cry tore from my throat. Locking my blood armor into place, I rushed the guard, tossing her across the alley.

  No alarm went off. I hadn’t triggered the Black Heart Rule, but I was beyond caring. Priya’s tiara was ruined and Mayan was laughing like a hyena, about to get away with attempted murder.

  The second guard ran at me. Grabbing him in a headlock, I patted him down for another set of cuffs, and suppressed his magic, dumping him onto the ground.

  Mayan was limping away.

  I caught up to her and spun her around.

  Her eyes gleamed maliciously. “You can’t watch me all the time. I will finish what I started.”

  That’s when a very familiar voice said, “Rumors of a disturbance and who do I find? Hello, Ashira.”

  Moran was flanked by a half dozen more guards who’d cut off our escape route.

  Mayan whirled on me, her eyes wild. “You’ve ruined everything.”

  A black smudge flew from her body, whizzing toward me.

  Moran’s sword appeared in his hand. “Wh-what—”

  Normally, I’d have enjoyed rendering him speechless, but there wasn’t time to gloat.

  I dropped my blood armor. “It’s a Repha’im. A soul of—”

  The Repha’im wound around me like a python, squeezing the life out of me.

  If this was a Mundane, I was dead. Jezebels could only destroy Nefesh souls. I fired a red ribbon of blood magic into the Repha’im, tasting dust, but when I impaled it with my red forked branches, it tore free. Shit. Was it Mundane?

  One of Moran’s contingent hurled a fireball at it.

  The Repha’im released me and blanketed the guard in a giant shadow. The guard gasped and his lifeless, deflated corpse slithered to the ground.

  Two more rushed the Repha’im. I knocked them out of its path with brute force, and they turned on me, but Moran yelled, “Hold!”

  The guards fell back, but their desire for retribution shimmered in the air. If I didn’t kill this, they’d direct it at me, a convenient scapegoat.

  I squared my shoulders and sent more branches into the Repha’im. For a dead spirit, it fought like a man with nothing to lose.

  My heartbeat slowed and my vision tunneled in and out. I couldn’t breathe under its frenzied onslaught, my branches sputtering in and out of existence, overpowered.

  Moran yelled something but his words blew away on the breeze. Color leached from the world and I fell to my knees. Scowling, he stomped over and stabbed me in the arm.

  I screamed, but that rush of pain gave me enough of a boost that time and color snapped back into place. Branches exploded around me, impaling the Repha’im. The clusters bloomed; the shade was destroyed.

  I pushed a sweat-soaked lock of hair out of my face, holding my arm. Blood gooped through my fingers. “You asshole.”

  Moran gave one more long, hard look at the spot where the Repha’im had been before he shook himself out of his stupor. “Merely a flesh wound. Now, if you will, what is a Repha’im?”

  “A dead person’s shade from Sheol, the underworld. The land of death, silence, and forgetting.” I helpfully sprinkled in a few interesting trivia facts that I’d learned, including the fact that I’d only been able to kill this one because it was Nefesh. “Surprise!”

  For a brief second, Moran was engulfed in electricity—his actual magic ability—but he quickly shut it down.

  “Well, that can’t be good for your blood pressure,” I said. “Feel free to convey my surprising information to the Queen.”

  “How did it get into Hedon?” Moran demanded.

  “Still unclear on that part.”

  “I suggest you find out and get back to me then.”

  Well, at least the alliance wasn’t totally off the table after that little debacle. I had the Queen’s stage name and the lip print and lipstick might give me a genetic profile, but she’d gone to great lengths to hide her identity and not every surprise was well-received. I’d wanted the knowledge for myself, not to put myself into a more dangerous situation with her. Would I play that card as a last resort? Probably, but it would have been nice if the Repha’im had been enough to seal the deal.
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  “You killed Gunter?” In the melee, I’d lost track of Mayan. She sat on the ground, sobbing softly, her eyes trained on me.

  “I did.”

  The charge of murder galvanized the guards and they advanced on me.

  I tried to manifest my armor but I was out of juice. “Calm your tits. I killed Gunter’s spirit. Corporeal Gunter was already dead. Ask Alfie, owner of the Green Olive.” I gestured at Mayan. “Let me take her back and all this becomes Levi’s headache.”

  Moran looked between me and guards, fingers tapping against his sword hilt.

  My stomach flipped over in dread. The Queen didn’t like complications and I’d brought this massive one to her door. One visit to the Queen’s dungeon was enough for a lifetime.

  Moran clenched his jaw. “Escort them to the exit. And Ashira? Should you have an ounce of self-preservation, stay out of Hedon for a good, long while.”

  “You of all people should know I’m terrible at following orders.”

  He tapped the flat edge of his sword.

  “But I’m happy to try.” I scooped up my purse, depositing in it the wreckage of the tiara and my promise to Priya. I’d sworn to the person I loved most to keep this one thing safe and I’d failed. It was her talisman. Her way to move on with confidence. How much of a setback would its loss be?

  I bowed to Moran. “Your Henchmanness. Until we meet again.”

  Chapter 20

  Dawn had broken on Sunday morning by the time I staggered out of the elevator at Harbour Center, carrying Mayan. One of the guards was a healer and he’d fixed her injuries up, but she was still in shock. He’d also treated the sword cut on my arm.

  “You’re all right?” Rafael saw us and quit pacing. I nodded. “What took so long?”

  “I didn’t want the good times to end.” I deposited Mayan gently on a bench.

  She’d stopped crying, but she was pale and unnaturally quiet. The only thing she’d asked on our trip back was whether Alfie was alive. When I assured her that he was fine, she’d nodded, relieved. She hadn’t spoken since.

  I called Miles, briefly explaining the situation. He instructed us to wait there, which gave me time to get the story out of Mayan.

  “Mayan.”

  She sunk further into herself.

  “Tell me what happened. Why did you first call Levi?”

  Mayan remained silent, her chin cast at a stubborn angle.

  I leaned in, determined to get answers out of her, but Rafael put a hand on my shoulder.

  “Allow me,” he murmured. “Mayan. We require your assistance. It’s vital that we understand what led us to the events of this evening.”

  It was the British accent, I swear. She gave him this melty look and nodded.

  It was the age-old story of girl meets boy, girl discovers boy is a necromancer, girl asks ex for help only to have dead person bent on vengeance stuffed inside her by said necromancer. Jonah hadn’t lied about his advancements in bonding techniques.

  “Do you remember everything that happened once Gunter was inside you?” I said.

  “Yes. I wish I didn’t. I was still me, but there were certain things I couldn’t control.” She rubbed her hand vigorously over her mouth. “It made me smoke and—” Her hand flew to her neck. “I said I’d never take that pendant off. I swore in Mom’s memory.”

  Mayan could once again uphold her promise. Unlike me. “I’m sure she’ll forgive you the gap.”

  “You don’t have to be a bitch about this. It wasn’t my fault.”

  My hands curled into fists. “How about when you found out your fuck buddy was a necromancer, you went and actually applied for asylum or something at House Pacifica instead of just phoning Levi and continuing to wander around like everything was fine and Jonah wasn’t a potentially dangerous asshole who’d come after you? I don’t care that it wasn’t your fault. A guard died, Alfie almost did, and the two of us came way too close to ending up on the wrong side of the law in Hedon.” I brushed a hand over my purse. “I broke a promise to someone tonight as well, and mine isn’t fixable, so forgive me if I fail to give a shit about the specific degree of your complicity.”

  “Quite a speech,” Levi said lightly. He’d entered along with Miles.

  “Jesus. Stop creeping up on people.” I stood up. “She’s all yours.” I walked out without a look back.

  It was raining and I didn’t have a jacket. Gritting my teeth, running on adrenaline and fury, I rubbed my goosefleshed arms, my ruined filthy dress dragging through puddles. I was still barefoot, having left my shoes in Hedon, and my feet were freezing.

  Levi fell into step beside me and draped his trench coat over my shoulders.

  “How does it help for you to get wet?” I said, tugging it close.

  His limo glided around the corner and pulled up to the curb next to us.

  “Fucking hell, Levi. Do you have a tracking device implanted on you?”

  “What was the promise you broke tonight?” His voice held only a mild curiosity but the corners of his eyes were pinched tight.

  “Priya’s tiara. From her almost-wedding. I’d promised to keep it safe and it got broken in all this bullshit.” I stopped suddenly, forcing Levi to turn back for me. “You thought I wasn’t going to come.”

  He shrugged. “It’s been hours. You didn’t call.”

  “I was investigating the case you hired me for and a little busy. But thanks for your show of faith.” I stalked off again. Levi and I were impossible. No, he was impossible. I was fan-fucking-tastic except he kept doubting that fact. Because he’d sorted me into a box.

  I shoved his trench coat back at him.

  “Get in the limo.” He opened the car door. Levi and his driver had an agreement. Simon only pretended to be the typical limo guy and wait on Levi when it was important to keep up appearances, but beyond that they were friends. Sometimes when Levi called me from on the road, I’d hear him make an offhand joke to Simon, or Simon ribbing Levi about his tight schedule and not leaving enough time for his lady friend.

  For, you know, me.

  All my protests died on my lips. The weather was shit. My feet were bare. I wasn’t about to walk home like this. Was I really so hellbent on being right that I’d hurt myself to prove a point? The old Ash, maybe, would have done it. But what about the current one?

  “Fine. Take me home. My home.” I clarified, since Levi tended to take those kinds of commands literally.

  The limo was as warm as the inside of a dryer, but I still shivered.

  Levi raised the tinted privacy glass between us and Simon, who shot me a smile in the rearview mirror right before he was blocked from view. “If you get pneumonia because you’re stupid enough to walk off in the rain in April without shoes or a jacket, don’t expect paid sick days,” he said, and wrapped his arms around me.

  I burrowed into his heat. “I’m taking all the sick days and billing you time and half because you have shit taste in exes. Next time get one with half a brain.”

  His chuckle vibrated against my cheek. “You really laid into her. Did you enjoy it?”

  “Not as much as the rock I hit her with,” I said into his chest. Some of the cold and stiffness seeped away, replaced by an exquisite tiredness. More than that, this felt nice. I didn’t have to be a queen or a Seeker, and no one expected me to be unassailable. This was just me as I was right now, wet, and still covered a little in blood, seen for who I was and feeling like everything was possibly going to be okay.

  “You can’t give me even a smidgeon of plausible deniability, can you?”

  I glanced up at him through my lashes. “It was the most prudent course of action at the time. I expect you want details now.”

  “Nope. That’s the last thing I want. We’ll debrief with Miles later today.” Levi sat back, regarding me with a serious expression and I clenched the folds of my dress. Had Levi sorted through the many layers of us and come to the conclusion that this was more hassle than it was worth? “What did you thin
k was going to happen?”

  Oh. He meant Hedon? “Not the gong show that did, that’s for sure.”

  “With us. When you promised to come over.”

  I squirmed on the seat, dropping my gaze to my dirty feet. Grr. Short of flinging myself out of a moving vehicle, it seemed we were having our talk, even though I didn’t have a carefully planned speech ready. I crossed my arms. “Everything between us is messy and crosses all kinds of lines, and that’s not working. For me.”

  “Same.”

  He didn’t have to agree so fast. I wiped a smear of blue powder off from the crook of my elbow, my arms covered in goosebumps and missing his warmth. “Okay, well, we either declutter down to boss and employee, or…”

  I left a generous pause in case he felt like jumping in, but Mr. Bossy had become Mr. All-the-Patience-in-the-World.

  I wasn’t relationship-averse, but this was Levi and me. We’d been nemeses for so many years. Sex was one thing, but what if he laughed at me for suggesting more? Part of me didn’t think he would, but the part that still heard his mocking laughter and years of taunts pulled up the drawbridge and got the boiling pitch ready.

  It was very fine metaphoric boiling pitch, but empty fortresses were lonely places. And I missed having a home like this, somewhere I felt I could be my full self. I hadn’t felt like that in a long time.

  I took a deep breath and steeled myself. “Or we try having a relationship.”

  “Huh. I owe Miles twenty bucks,” he said.

  My eyes narrowed. “You bet on this? Against us? Wow.”

  “Not so much against us as against you,” he said, with a shrug. I gaped at him and he gave me a bright smile. “You’ve hated me most of your life and stone obelisks warm up to people more easily than you do.”

  “I’m a giant rock in this scenario now?”

  “Yup.” He brushed his nose against mine. “But I’ve cracked you.”

  “I don’t know if this is a good thing.”

  “Are you my girlfriend?” he said.

  “Ugh. How about your lovah?”

  “Not how I will ever introduce you. Partner?”