Wild Women Collection

by Rachel Sullivan

  I placed my hands open on my lap as a show of acceptance. If my words offended them, hopefully my body language wouldn’t. “I’m sorry,” I corrected myself. “Yes, please, introduce yourselves.”

  Anwen’s smile showed glimpses of her wisdom, in the knowing twinkle of her dark irises and the creases framing her eyes and mouth. I wasn’t sure how her kind, the nagin, aged, but to me she looked to be in her mid to late fifties.

  She stood proud and tall in the middle of the room, addressing the huldra who stood behind and beside me. “My name is Anwen of the nagin group. The Egyptian Goddess, Wadjet created us and moves through us in the form of a cobra. We believe she moves through each living being as a snake, which some call kundalini.”

  Another woman with blonde and silver hair, who looked slightly older than Anwen stepped forward and gave a quick chin tilt. “I am also nagin, sister to Anwen, and my name is Berwyn.” Her somewhat faded eye tattoo covered a two inch by two inch area of her chest, right above her line of cleavage.

  The two nagin women stood in the center of the room and a third woman joined them. She looked older than the first two, maybe in her upper sixties. She wore her silver hair in a crown atop her head and moved with the grace of a serpent. “I am Eta,” the woman said with pride and power. “I am the elder of my two sisters here today, Anwen and Berwyn. And I am pleased to make your acquaintance. It has been some time since we’ve heard from our American Wild Women sisters. While I was not yet alive when the succubi ancestors chose to cross the ocean to the new world, as a child, I heard stories of the painful goodbyes between my nagin ancestors and the ancestors of the succubi.”

  “I’m eager to hear those stories,” I said, wishing my mother were here as well to soak up our Wild history.

  Eta’s smiled slipped slowly across her lips, lit up her eyes, and then eased away. She ran a finger through her bangs, exposing a small eye tattoo at her hairline on the center of her forehead. She and her sisters stepped aside for the next group to move forward.

  Two Chinese women stepped to the center of the living room. Petite in size, they both wore their silver and black hair cropped short with brightly colored scarves over their tops and slacks. The woman on the right spoke, eyeing each huldra for a second before moving on to the next. “Hello, my name is Chen and my sister’s name is Fan. We hail from China, where our Goddess Nü Gua breathed her essence into her highest priestesses long ago and created our kind, the shé.”

  The shé Wilds moved aside and the last two newcomers stepped to the center, in front of the couch I sat on, on the other side of the coffee table.

  None of these new-to-me women showed signs of feathers or scales. Anwen’s explanation gave me a hint of what the nagin capabilities held; with my aunt Patricia being an acupuncturist I was familiar with the belief of kundalini energy—a female energy residing in all genders, believed to lie coiled at the base of the spine with the abilities to rise up the spine, bringing the body spiritual enlightenment and the ability to connect with other dimensions. But I still couldn’t figure out what that had to do with the nagin, how they used that to help or hurt others.

  The two Wild Women who now stood before me were most certainly of Greek descent. In a way, they looked similar to Marcus; the tan skin, dark hair, and how their foreheads were broader than some, but fit their noses and faces perfectly.

  “My name is Calle,” one of the women said with an accent. “It is Greek for free woman.”

  “And I am Gerda,” said the other. “It means strong like a spear in Greek. We come from the Wild Woman group called echidna, created by the great snake Goddess of Crete, whose name we do not utter to outsiders.” Gerda bowed to me, but not as though she was at my service, no. She bowed as a sign of respect, from one formidable ally to another.

  I stood, and not knowing what to do with my hands, I clasped them in thanksgiving to my seven new friends. “I appreciate you coming from so far away,” I started. “And I assume you’re hungry and tired. We’ve got rooms ready for you; it’ll be cramped, but hopefully it will suffice. There’s food in the refrigerator and cabinets, but if you don’t see anything you like, just let me know and one of us can run to the store.” I looked out the window to see the sun high in the sky. “How about you rest up until nightfall, then we can plan our attack for tomorrow morning. Does that timeline work for all of you?”

  I yearned to sit and talk with these women. What were their abilities? How did they use them? And what about their history had my mother so convinced that the snake Wilds would be the ones who tied us all together?

  A few of them nodded as we shuffled toward the vacant rooms on the bottom floor. Thankfully I’d heard the men exit the great room through the double doors on the first level, so I knew they wouldn’t be noticed. The shé spoke in Chinese to one another as the echidna followed the shé quietly down the steps. Eta slowed her pace until she walked in step with me, bringing up the rear as my aunts led the way.

  The older woman lightly placed her hand on my shoulder and smiled as she inhaled. “Your inner snake is coiled tight, ready to attack,” she uttered.

  “How do I have a snake when I’m huldra?” I asked, already trusting this woman I’d just met. To me she felt like the grandmother I barely remembered, the one who kissed me goodbye one day and was buried in the plot behind our tree homes the next. Her hair had barely any silver streaks when she’d left us.

  “This is the great mystery,” she answered with a wink. “Some say it is merely the power of nature we each carry, while others link it back to the creation of the world, and still others believe it represents the spirit realm’s energy.”

  “Which do you believe?” I asked, almost ready to agree with whatever she suggested. I’d been around elder Wild Women on the mermaid island, but that seemed more unique a situation. Now, I was inviting elder Wilds to come fight with us, asking them to come fight with us, and only meeting the different Wild groups by way of their elders. It brought up a sense of longing I hadn’t realized before—the longing of the wisdom and guidance, the confidence and courage of my grandmother as well as my mother.

  She shrugged and said in a British accent, “Who’s to say?”

  The other Wild guests, with bags in tow, found their temporary sleeping quarters. My aunts showed the nagin to their rooms as I stood back beside Eta. Although my heart wanted to connect with this Wild, who for some reason reminded me of who my grandmother may have been if she’d lived long enough to become her, I did not know this woman. And to pretend I did would be a mistake. But, I couldn’t keep from asking one more question before heading outside to Marcus and Aleksander.

  “Eta,” I said, leaning forward and placing my hands on her worn hands. “Thank you for sharing what you saw with me, for confirming that my inner snake is coiled and ready to attack.”

  Her eyes softened. She slowly shook her head, and my smile faded.

  “Oh, no, my darling, what I shared was not a praise nor a confirmation.” Eta pulled her hands out from under mine and began to leave my side. Her soft gaze stayed locked on mine. “T’was a warning.”

  Twenty-Nine

  “It’ll be easier for you to do your thing if we’re out of the way,” Marcus said to me as he kissed me awake. He’d crept into bed hours earlier while I slept, and taken a nap with me. The other Wilds slept too, unsure if we’d get any rest between devising our plan of attack and actually attacking. Plus, our new guests needed to sleep off their jet lag.

  I kept hold of his arm as he stood from the bed. “Will I see you again before the morning?” I asked. It hadn’t been discussed yet, but in my mind the best time for retrieving the succubi was while the Hunters slept, right as the sun came up, or maybe an hour before.

  “That’s actually why I’m leaving, to figure that out,” he answered.

  When I lifted my eyebrow he gave the information I’d been wordlessly asking for.

  “Last night,” he said, “while you were upstairs with the snake Wilds, Aleksa
nder and I left to meet with the Washington Hunter who’d paid me a visit at my apartment a few days ago. You know of him, he’s the buddy of mine from the Mill Creek precinct whose promotion party we attended for our second date at the Westin in Bellevue.”

  Ah, that buddy, I thought. The one from my night of hell. Makes sense he was a Hunter. Hunters tend to be nearby when my life is going to shit.

  “He’d agreed to meet me here in Portland,” Marcus continued. “But we didn’t let him know why we were here or that we had any connection to the succubi. Aleksander wanted to get a read on him.”

  “And?” I asked.

  “And Aleksander said the guy’s not a spy—he’s genuinely left the brotherhood. To prove his stance in all of this, he gave us intel on the local Hunter complex.”

  I sat up in bed and watched as Marcus pulled on his jeans in the dim light of our temporary shared bedroom. “So are the incubi opening their doors to wayward Hunters now too? And how would he know you’d want that kind of intel?”

  This whole set-up seemed a little fishy to me. We took down the Washington complex, and then out of the blue a Hunter from that complex decided he was ready to give up his dagger and sought out Marcus? Marcus, who, by any knowledge of the Washington Hunters, had been reinstated shortly before the Wild Women attacked. Why would a supposed ex-Hunter go to a supposed current Hunter for help on leaving the brotherhood?

  “He didn’t know. He offered it up as a show of trust, proof of where his loyalties don’t lie. I assume he figured since I showed up with an incubus, I’m not towing the Hunter line either.” Marcus paused, his shirt in his hands and not yet covering his tattooed chest. “If you want me to keep him away from you, just say the words and it’ll be done.”

  “The Hunter?” I asked. “What’s his name anyway? I feel like we’re talking code here or something.”

  “Rod,” he answered. “And yeah, him.”

  Now that he mentioned it, I didn’t much care for the idea of meeting the man. That thought brought about another. He was male and able-bodied, yet I hadn’t wondered about the possibility of the guy helping us to get the succubi back…because I hadn’t wanted his help. I didn’t like him and wanted nothing to do with him. My dislike of him smacked with double standard.

  “Why would you keep him away from me?” I asked, curious as to what Marcus’s take on all this was.

  Marcus sat on the edge of the bed, beside me. “He was an active Hunter at the same complex your sister was held against her will and drugged, as a substitute for you.”

  He hit the nail on the head. Of course, the current uncertainty of the fate of all US Wild Women reigned supreme in my head, much higher than sifting through my feelings about a Hunter I’d never met, so I wasn’t too upset that Marcus unraveled my own thoughts before me. I had more important things to think about. But still, Marcus’s statement made me hate Rod more.

  I was pretty sure he read my expression, because he quickly continued explaining, “But you should know he was on vacation when your sister was taken, and when you attacked his complex. He’d taken a month off to go on a cruise and do some soul-searching. When he came back, he returned to email and voice message in-boxes full of demands that he return home, threatening to demote him for being out of range of John’s communication methods. He said he’d almost been relieved when he’d heard those messages, figured they’d kicked him out and he wouldn’t have to make the tough decision to quit. But seeing as the Wild Women had killed most of the Washington Hunters, the ones that remained are coveted resources now.”

  “Then what’s he doing down here?” I asked, dragging myself from bed.

  Marcus stood and stretched his shirt on over his head.

  I pulled my jeans on.

  “He’s here to talk.” Marcus wrapped his arms around me. “But I think he assumes I’m re-thinking the whole Hunter thing since the complex attack and I’m staying with the incubi. I think this meeting will be more about two guys from the brotherhood sharing stories. Aleksander may even suggest changing Rod.”

  “No, he can’t,” I insisted. “If Rod becomes an incubi, he’ll be privy to their information, which means he’ll know about us being down here. He could go back to the Hunters and give us all away.”

  “I’m not sure it works like that, especially since Aleksander let it slip that he’s been thinking of a way to help without anyone knowing of his involvement. Or more likely, he pretended to let it slip,” he said, his breath warm and sweet on my lips, before pressing his mouth onto mine.

  His kiss brought my thoughts to him, to us, to tonight and tomorrow morning, to the realization that that exact moment could be the last I’d ever see of Marcus. In a matter of hours I would storm the Oregon Hunter complex with what felt like a handful of other Wilds I barely knew. And fuck it all if that was the best plan at my disposal.

  “And how will the great Alek help without being seen?” I asked between kisses.

  “By planting explosives on the complex grounds and detonating them from afar once you’ve gotten all the Wilds out.”

  I pulled my face away to study Marcus’s eyes. “Seriously? How does that fit in with his pacifist nature?”

  He shrugged. “Apparently, an incubus who believes he’s met his mate isn’t opposed to allowing his cloak of pacifism to drop long enough to expose a weapon or two, if it’s to protect the one he thinks he loves.” Marcus shook his head. “To be honest, every bit of this whole mated thing pisses me off, but I’m trying to rise above it, not act like a jealous lover.”

  “Well,” I sighed. “You’re rising higher than I think I’d be able to if the tables were turned.”

  “It’s not over yet,” Marcus said with a dark laugh. “I may fall from that level I’ve risen to, and strangle the guy.” He ran his fingers through his hair and finished answering my earlier question about Aleksander and the explosives. “He knows a guy who can hook him up with what he needs. It’s genius, actually. Since this time around our army of Wild Women is so small, it makes sense that you concentrate your efforts on getting the succubi out, and from behind the scenes, we can make sure you aren’t followed by blowing the place up.”

  “But,” I started, searching his eyes for a flicker of doubt. I didn’t want Marcus doing anything he’d later regret. “You didn’t like my kind killing your brothers at the last complex. You said some were innocent and may change their minds about following their orders.”

  Marcus smoothed my hair and looked past me in thought. “That was before they imprisoned a whole galere of innocent succubi. With your sister, I was almost sure only a handful of Hunters knew about her capture, had anything to do with her being holed up in the cabin. But a whole galere? That sort of thing doesn’t go unnoticed. Rod told us he’d had a tryst with a Hunter from the Oregon complex, until the guy’s shame caused him to renounce his sexual desires and threaten Rod to do the same or he’d out him to the Hunter officials. Rod called him on speaker phone with us listening. The guy boasted about their capture and invited Rod to come see for himself. Said the Oregon brotherhood has now proven their strength and ability to lead the US Hunters to victory against the Wild Women. He rubbed it in that Rod’s brotherhood weren’t able to control their huldra like the Oregon Hunters could control their succubi.”

  “Just hearing that makes me sick to my stomach,” I groaned.

  “I hate that it has to be this way,” Marcus said, holding me tighter and kissing me on the forehead. “But it is, and not by our choice, but theirs.”

  Twice now, he’d said “our” and applied it to him and the Wild Women rather than him and the Hunters. Who knew a simple word could have such a huge impact on my heart, now beating more wildly for his act of loyalty to me and mine.

  I wrapped my arms around his thick back and pulled him into me, as tight and as close to me as I could get him. I wished he’d come along on this fight too, not hiding on the outskirts, but standing beside me in battle. He wished the same thing, and had even tried to figu
re out ways to join me. In the end, though, it wouldn’t work. The Oregon Hunters, if any got away, might recognize him as a Washington Hunter, and his inclusion in the brotherhood was still a wildcard we needed to save for later use. Yeah, it was possible Clarisse spilled the beans about Marcus working with us when we attacked the Washington complex, but he highly doubted that. They’d never said as much, never “coincidentally” saw him wherever he happened to be out in public. Marcus figured Clarisse still wanted out of the Hunter lifestyle, still wanted to be “changed” somehow, and would use his big secret as a bargaining chip to get just that.

  The east coast complexes were larger and more manned than those on the west coast, and my mother was probably being held at one of them. If Marcus outed himself to his brotherhood by fighting alongside Wild Women, we preferred he do it fighting the east coast complexes. Not that I didn’t still wish he and my sisters were joining me. If I died, I’d wanted to at least say goodbye to them in my last moments.

  He pulled back and studied my eyes.

  “What’s going on in your head right now?” he asked on a deep whisper.

  “If I die, you won’t just abandon my coterie, right?” I said, worried my coterie may be short three members after tomorrow morning. The men’s idea to blow the complex up after we left worked fine for me, but what if we weren’t able to leave? What if we died there?

  Marcus ran his fingers through my hair, from my forehead, down the side of my head, and across my jawbone. “They’d be all I’d have left of you. Of course I wouldn’t abandon them.”

  He leveled his gaze with mine. “But don’t make me live without you.”

  “I wish I could make that promise,” I whispered. Fear had been rolling likes waves throughout me for days. One moment I’d feel totally in control and ready to show the Hunters what the Wilds were made of, and the next I’d just know we were stepping into a losing battle. This wasn’t like last time. We didn’t have an army of women backing us. We didn’t have the ability to get to know one another beforehand, to have some sort of feel for how the others fought. I was heading into battle against known warriors with women who appeared more wise than strong, women whose muscles and bones had known better days.