Wild Women Collection

by Rachel Sullivan

  I almost laughed. “They won’t trap me. And when I’d first met Marie, she had no reason to treat me fairly either.” I peered at the door and wondered if Celeste was listening from the dining table. “And she didn’t…treat me fairly. She had her sisters hold me in place against my will, use my energy against me. But I made it fine through that.” I didn’t mention I’d already gone over this scenario in my mind, that I’d already considered the risk of being taken out of the game much too early. The other Wilds were counting on me to save their sisters and mothers. And not because I was special or anything. But because so far, the only Wilds who were on the Hunter’s radars and able to miss check-ins were the huldras. And of the huldras, I was the only bounty hunter, well-versed in tracking folks, thinking battle strategy, and kicking ass.

  But none of us would be able to take down another Hunter complex without the succubi galere. And none of them would be able to help us if they were all detained because one of their sisters missed the check-in. “I’ll be fine,” I assured him.

  “Damn it,” Marcus ground the words through clenched teeth. “Why don’t you trust me? Just this once, can you listen and trust me?”

  “Whoa, wait a minute,” I countered. “Do you realize you’re telling me that by me not doing what you want, I’m not trusting you?” Before he could answer I answered for him. “Of course I trust you. I wouldn’t share a bed with you night after night if I didn’t trust you. I wouldn’t let you anywhere near my sisters if I didn’t trust you. But I trust me too, Marcus. And seeing that at the end of the day I am all I’m left with, my own gut instincts on this far outweigh your advice, trust or not.”

  “You’re all you’re left with? What’s what supposed to mean?” he asked the moment I took a breath.

  I stared at the ceiling for a moment before leveling a gaze at myself back in the mirror. I shouldn’t have said that. It was just, after the whole battle with the Hunters, watching my Wild sisters fall in combat, almost losing Shawna, death had been on my mind. If they all died in the next battle, I was all I had left. I could only protect those I love so much. They were dark thoughts, but they were my thoughts. I couldn’t tell him that, though. I didn’t need him worrying any more than he already was. I’d just told him I’d be fine. He couldn’t know how unsure I was of that.

  “It means…” I couldn’t come up with an answer for the life of me. “I don’t know what it means.”

  “Well, it’s a pretty strong statement to have no basis,” Marcus retorted.

  I said the first answer that popped into my mind. “It means I need to be responsible for my own wellbeing. It’s not like we’re married or in a committed relationship or anything.” Clearly the wrong thing to say.

  Marcus’s voice deepened, but somehow grew louder at the same time. “You don’t see our relationship as a committed one?” I pictured his eyes lit with anger.

  That hadn’t at all been what I’d meant. But I only made it worse by trying to explain myself. “Huldras don’t do committed relationships,” I stammered out, trying to get my brain to catch up with my mouth. I was trying to lay out the facts of my kind and that relationships and sharing didn’t come natural to me. It’d take lots of work and practice. But damn if my lips refused to express this truth.

  “Wow,” he said sarcastically. “Well, I guess I’ve got a lot to think about then. What with me putting my life on the line to act as an undercover agent for a woman who’s not in a committed relationship with me and never plans on changing that.”

  “Hold on.” Now I was pissed. “Are you saying you’re only doing this because of me? Because that’s not at all what you told me that night at the hotel in North Carolina and the next morning, when we discussed aligning. You said it was because you knew what the Hunters were doing was wrong. You said you weren’t doing it for me.” I remembered that conversation vividly.

  “I’ve got to go,” was all he said before the line went dead.

  “Damn it!” I stopped myself mid-swing before plowing my fist into the dresser top.

  “Everything all right?” Olivia asked, her voice muffled through the door.

  No, everything was not all right. Not that it mattered. I pulled my long hair into a pony tail at the back of my head and wiped bits of mascara, smudged from sleeping, from under my eyes. “Yup.”

  I swung the bedroom door open to see my two sisters ready and waiting. “Let’s go,” I said, walking from the apartment to meet Marie out front.

  Nine

  I’d seen shows about the Portland Shanghai Tunnels, the underground that once operated on vice with no room for virtue. It is said that from the late 1800s to the early 1900s men were kidnapped from bars in the area and taken to the underground where they’d be sold off to ship captains to work as crew with no pay. Of course, prostitution ran rampant in the tunnels as well. Visiting the Forbidden City of the Wests underground had always interested me, but seeing as leaving the state would require more than a little difficulty concerning the Hunters, and Portland was my prior enemies’ territory, I’d figured watching it on TV was as close as I’d get.

  Those worries and prior restraints seemed like a lifetime ago.

  Now I stood in the damp tunnel, the scent of mildew and rot all around me, with the addition of rats and mice scurrying about and cobwebs covering the top corners like draped curtains. Only, we didn’t enter the tunnels like I’d seen in the shows, or like basically any human tourists had. At least, I assumed as much. With a black fabric bag over my head it was hard to tell, exactly.

  A human man had met Olivia, Celeste, Marie, and me in an alley, carrying the head covers. A transient man slept under a wet cardboard box and when our guide told the man to leave in a particularly gruff manner, I had pulled a Subway gift card from my back pocket to give to the homeless man for his troubles. The man with the head covers gave me a strange look, but I didn’t care. Homeless or not, people were people and they deserved to be treated with decency. The fact that his man clearly didn’t agree ticked me off right off the bat.

  We’d taken the black bags freely, as the man promised it was for our own protection. If we wore them, we would be guided back out of the incubi’s lair once our business was done, no questions asked. I opted to do it. No fabric bag could stop my vines from growing and choking a guy out if he made a wrong move against my sisters or me. Still, as I’d placed the bag over my head, Marcus’s words of caution rang through my mind.

  And here I stood, after moving through unknown doors that creaked open and shut, after a couple sets of stairs, numbering forty-seven steps. Or had it been fifty? Following the man, I’d kept track of his flashlight beam through the fabric. The human told us to stop and left us alone in the tunnel, bags still over our heads. Through the fabric I saw nothing; the area was pitch black, without so much a candle flame to light the way.

  “Should we take off the bags?” Celeste whispered when the only sounds left were created by trickling water and rodents.

  “No,” Marie said under her breath. “They need a show of submission from us, I think.”

  I bucked at that idea, but she was right. Never show your cards, and as a female in some cultures, that also meant never show your strength and independence—at least not until the time is right. It was our wild card, our tactical advantage, to be underestimated. Not that my heart didn’t still argue with her plan.

  “Now will you give us more information on these guys?” I asked the succubi leader, who up until this point had been too secretive for my comfort.

  “They are called our brothers, but they are not,” she started. “They are like distant cousins sired by a cheating father.”

  “Care to explain?” I asked, not knowing how much time I had to collect intel before the incubi arrived and wishing she’d stop talking in riddles.

  Marie spoke after a few moments. “Incubi are not born, they’re created.”

  Call me a purist, but I didn’t like the idea of anyone not born into their current species. Being
born into a species is natural, organic. Being changed leaves too much open for question. Are they able to manage their new abilities? Do they misuse them? Do they hate their new self and want to take down any other creature they come across? And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. A few months ago I wouldn’t have even known such beings existed, and now I stood in their hidden, underground lair with a bag over my head, hoping they either knew how to control their incubus abilities or hadn’t yet learned how to use them in the first place.

  “Where do they come from?” I asked, hoping to get an idea of their species’ cultural background.

  “The product of a night of passion between a succubus and a vampire,” Marie answered. “At least, that’s how the first incubus’ maker came to be. Succubi only give birth to females, which leads me to believe the original maker, or sire, was female. The vampires were nearly extinct and the union was their last-ditch effort to preserve their kind. They nearly worshipped my kind for our generosity. Up until the last vampire walked the earth.”

  Unholy shit.

  “And you didn’t think to give me a warning of this in advance?” I asked, forcing myself to not rip off the head covering and run my ass out of there. I’d thought vampires were nothing more than legend, or maybe a species the Hunters had killed off in their early days.

  “I didn’t want to chance you not joining me. This is what’s best for all Wild Women.” She paused. “And control your fear. They’ll feel it before getting within arm’s length. And they may use it to their advantage.”

  “Do they bite?” Celeste asked.

  Celeste sighed and I figured Marie was calming my sister with her touch. “They do not. They do not have fangs that I am aware of. They received their energy abilities from the succubus and the ability to change humans into their own kind from the vampire. From what I’ve heard, when they lie with human women, the women are unable to conceive their shared offspring. So all incubi have been changed, not born that way.”

  I thought to ask her more about their inability to procreate, but decided it wasn’t important. I wasn’t planning on taking an incubus to bed. The thought of Marie’s sister staying here, with these incubi, popped into my head, but I was sure Marie had already contemplated the possible outcome of a succubus sleeping with an incubus. She didn’t need a reminder of the possible pairing and what could come of it. But her insistence that we get her sister now made more sense than ever, considering what I’d just learned.

  Heavy footsteps with a wide gait entered my hearing and we silenced. What appeared to be a lantern came into my line of sight, its orange flame dancing as the man walked. The bark at the small of my back ached in a good way, readying to spread across my skin in protection. I took a deep breath to calm my protective instincts.

  “As beautiful as you ladies look right now, I’m more than curious to see what’s behind the masks,” he said, his voice deep and smooth with hints of an accent too rough to be from any classical romance languages.

  None of us moved.

  “I know full well each of you is capable of tearing those bags to shreds in your own way. Playing the damsels won’t work with me. I know your capabilities.” He scoffed. “Plus, you’ll need your vision down here. You didn’t think I’d force my guests to discuss business affairs in such a cold, wet place, did you?”

  I broke the rope tying the bag loosely around my neck and removed the fabric from my head. Before I could drop it to the ground, freeing up my hand, the man spoke again.

  “Oh, wait, no, hold onto that, please. You’ll need it to leave here. Sorry, should have mentioned that.” Now that I could see the man behind the voice, I could see how well his looks matched his voice. He stood six feet tall and then some, his dark brown hair combed smooth atop his head. He wore dark suit slacks and a button up, with a couple buttons at the top open and his sleeves rolled over his forearms.

  His eyes caught mine looking him over. “You are no succubus,” he said, peering me up and down in a way that intrigued me more than offended me.

  I preferred to keep my species to myself. At least for the moment.

  “No,” he went on. “Your energy carries different signatures, warrior signatures. Hmm, I can’t exactly place it, but I’ve felt such energy before, a long time ago.”

  “So then you are very old?” Marie asked, her bag clutched in her hand. Celeste stood between Oliva and Marie, with Marie and me being the Wilds on the outside of the line we formed.

  The man bowed his head for all of two seconds. “I am,” he said with a smile when he met her gaze. “Please, call me Aleksander. Come.” He turned and began walking deeper into the tunnels. “Follow me.”

  I mentally pocketed another fun fact about the incubi: they were gifted or cursed with either a long life or immortality from their vampire side. Fabulous. We were potentially dealing with beings that couldn’t be killed. Then it hit me. A human male had retrieved us from the streets of Portland. Could these incubi also not go in the sunlight? Is that why they lived under the streets?

  We followed Aleksander through the tunnels lined with brick archways, some narrow and some wide, leading to other parts of the unground system. A hundred years’ worth of dirt and pieces of old tools and shoes and various objects littered the ground. Based on the stories of these tunnels, I wondered if Marie felt an energy hanging around, one of fear or great sadness, because while I couldn’t feel actual energy like the succubi could, I definitely sensed an air of desperation down here.

  Aleksander turned one last corner before propping open an old steel door and motioning for us to go inside. We entered a quaint room with two red Victorian style couches and a black velvet chaise lounge within it. A closed door occupied the wall opposite us. The tall incubus closed the door behind him. “Please, sit,” he said, waving toward the furniture.

  The other Wilds and I exchanged glances before accepting the invitation. My sisters and I shared a couch while Marie chose the lounge, facing us at an angle, but off to the side a bit. Candles burned in large sconces attached to the walls and on shelves and end tables beside the couches. Aleksander stood at a dark wooden floor-to-ceiling cabinet and opened a glass door to retrieve four tumblers.

  “You’re probably wondering how I got a schrank all the way down here,” he said as he removed the stopper from a crystal decanter and poured the caramel brown liquid into a tumbler. He turned toward us with glass in hand. “It wasn’t easy, not by any stretch of the word.” He took a sip and shook his head. “I am so sorry. I rarely get visitors these days; I forgot my manners. Would you ladies like a drink?”

  I looked to Marie to answer for us. She knew more about this man and his kind than we did.

  “That would be very hospitable of you. Thank you,” Marie answered, with no inflection of her normal mischievous self.

  The male poured a finger of what looked and smelled like brandy into each of our glasses, and handed them to us before taking a seat on the couch facing my sisters and me. “Now that the pleasantries have been taken care of, let’s get down to business,” he said, his inviting smile no longer present. “I understand you’re here to retrieve one of your own—Heather.”

  “You would understand correctly,” Marie said. She sat straight with both her feet firmly planted on the ground. What I wouldn’t give to be able to read his energy like she no doubt was currently doing.

  The incubus leaned back and rested his right ankle on his left knee. He sighed and glanced at me with a twitch in the corner of his lips before his focus rested back on Marie. “Then while I wouldn’t call your visit a complete waste—sharing drinks with beautiful women is something of a passion of mine—I do regret to inform you that you will most certainly not be leaving with Heather.”

  Ten

  Everything in me wanted to spring from the chair and demand that the incubus return our Wild sister to us, but I reminded myself that Heather was here of her own volition. That fact was all that kept me on the couch, squished between my huldra sisters.
I clenched the cushion beneath my legs to hold me back. My fingers ached with want to grow vines from their tips and wrap the green ropey plants around his neck.

  “Now, now,” Aleksander crooned directly at me. “There’s no reason to get angry.”

  He gave a short, deep laugh. “She really is a powerhouse, isn’t she?” he asked Marie.

  The succubus gave no response.

  “It’s just come to me!” Aleksander said, slapping his knee, and still not spilling his brandy. “Why hadn’t I realized it sooner?” He peered at Marie. “I’m losing my sharpness it appears.” He turned back to me. “You’ve got the energy of a shield maiden. Powerful and fierce in your own right. It fits you like a glove, by the way.” He tapped his finger on the glass he held. “You must be huldra then.” He waited for my response, an expectant half-smile on his lips and a gleam in his eyes.

  Was this a game to him? I shouldn’t expect anything different, really. Marie loved playing mind games, why wouldn’t an incubus? Except, something told me he wasn’t playing games. This was Aleksander, and he relished in…whatever this was. The incubus piqued my interest, his ability to exuded masculinity without any of the traditionally masculine behaviors like aggression and dominance. Marcus wasn’t dominant either, but the Hunter in him held onto the aggression living just beneath his surface. I didn’t fault him for it. As long as he didn’t use that aggression against me or my kind. Except, hadn’t he a little this morning, when he’d demanded that I not meet with the incubi? When he’d thrown around the “trust” word as a means to get me to do what he wanted? Had he been trying to control me? No. Marcus wouldn’t do that. Would he?

  I scolded myself for comparing the two supernatural males and responded to Aleksander’s assessment. “Yes, I’m a huldra. And you’re an incubus. So why isn’t Heather here telling us she refuses to come home with her sister? Why are you the one relaying the message, seeing as you’re neither a huldra nor a succubus?”