Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Margo Bond Collins

  Wade looked up at the sun’s position. They had a long way to go. “You have to get up, darlin’. We have to get movin’.”

  Riley blinked up at him, her velvety brown eyes disoriented with sleep, and her silky blonde hair tumbled around her shoulders. His heart clenched in his chest at the sight. His golden warrior. He could scarcely believe she’d dragged him out of the water. This was the type of woman who’d never let him go.

  No matter what the danger was to herself.

  His heart clenched again, this time in pain. He’d almost gotten her killed because he hadn’t been strong enough to tell her not to come. He’d wanted someone by his side so desperately that she’d nearly died.

  Selfish.

  The right thing to do would be to get her back to Absolution before she got hurt. But it was too late now. Today was the third day, the last to find Colton. He couldn’t leave her behind, unprotected in the desert, and he didn’t have time to get her safely back to Absolution. He would have to take her with him.

  Straight into Bartholomew Cane’s lair.

  “If you’re thinking what I think you are, you can forget it,” Riley said suddenly.

  The world around him came back into focus, Riley's warm brown eyes narrowing at him as she shook out her shirt with stiff movements. “What am I thinking?”

  “About Cane. About me. Leaving me here.” She dragged her bra and tank on, wincing as she had to reach over her shoulders. One eye was swollen and black, her cheekbone grazed, and her ribs were a mass of bruises.

  That she read him so well bothered him. “You’re hurt.”

  “So are you.”

  “I’ll heal,” he reminded her.

  “So will I.”

  Luc’s lips thinned. “I’ll heal by tonight.”

  “Tonight. Tomorrow.” She sat down to drag her jeans up her long, smooth legs. “What difference does it make? I dare say I look worse than I feel.”

  “Riley,” he warned. Each of her movements was slow and precise. She was hurting, she just wouldn’t admit it.

  “You’re not going to win this argument. You don’t think I can track you, wherever you go? And you said yourself we’re heading for the old Copperplate Mine.”

  Luc shoved to his feet, knowing when the battle was lost. “I had this idea,” he told her, reaching for his own jeans. “A week ago now, though it feels more like several of them… Here’s a pretty little blonde, practically begging to be kidnapped. Perfect bait. Just what I need to lure McClain to me—”

  “How did it all go so wrong?”

  “Precisely. I wish I could go back in time. Talk some sense into myself. Say, ‘Luc, old man, you are going to regret this. This pretty little piece of ass is going to make a mule seem reasonable. She’s going to send you up against revenants, reivers, and settlers waving pitchforks. She’s going to take every single plan you had and smash them to pieces, like a child with a tower of blocks.’”

  “She is going to change your life.”

  “She is going to make your life hell,” he countered.

  “She is going to give you some of the hottest sex you’ve ever had.” Slowly, Riley stood up, her face admirably blank. “Finished feeling sorry for yourself?”

  He had no argument to that. “The sex is good.”

  An arched eyebrow.

  “Amazing,” he amended.

  “Just the sex?”

  Luc dragged his shirt on and looked around for his boots. The leather was ruined and still damp, but it would do. “Maybe more than just the sex. You’re pretty easy on the eyes too.”

  “You say the sweetest things.”

  Another taunt sprang to mind, but he stared down at her, those molten brown eyes meeting his. Luc stepped forward and cupped her jaw with both hands. “Riley, you are the devil,” he whispered. “And I would sell you my soul gladly, if you didn’t already own it.” His face lowered, lips brushing against her own.

  A soft kiss, full of promise. Tongue darting against hers teasingly before he drew back, knowing she was in pain. And there was nothing he could do about it.

  The sweet rush of Riley’s breath stirred against his damp mouth. “Then stop trying to leave me behind. You’re right, Luc. You belong to me,” she whispered, hands sliding up his chest and curling around his collar. Hot brown eyes met his. “I’m not going to let anyone take what’s mine. Not Cane. Not Colton. Not the reivers.”

  His hands dropped from her face, but she didn’t let him go. “How do you plan to stop them? We’ve got no guns, no ammunition, no food, and no water. All of that was in the jeep.”

  “You're right,” she said, looking at the cliffs above them. “But I’ll sure bet the reivers had those supplies.”

  Luc smiled. “That’s my girl.”

  19

  The climb was torture.

  Riley started out gamely, knowing that if she gave any sign that she was hurting, he’d try and leave her behind to rest. The road wound back and forth like a snake’s trail as it worked its way up the sheer cliffs. Soon, she was dripping with sweat and staring directly at her feet. Didn’t seem so much of an angle then. She could almost pretend that she was walking on flat ground.

  Almost.

  The right side of her face ached in the searing sun, her teeth throbbing. Nothing broken, thank God, but just the thought of running her tongue over them to check made her wince. Soon it was all she could do just to put one foot in front of the other. Her vision blurred until she blocked out the world, the pain, everything but each step at a time.

  “Here we go.” A hand curled around her arm, helping her the last few steps.

  Riley looked up. They’d reached the top. She could have cried.

  Luc stared down at her through narrowed eyes. Riley tried to smile, but it died on her mouth as the movement screamed through her cheek.

  “I’m okay,” she muttered.

  He hesitated. “Maybe you should rest.”

  The words hit her like the sight of a desert oasis, but if she sat down she’d never get up. Riley shook her head.

  Though concern warmed his eyes, he didn’t say anything. Simply helped her forward, his large body blocking out the sun.

  “So, how old are you?” he asked suddenly.

  “Twenty-four,” she replied. “Why?”

  “Figured we ought to get to know each other.” A small crooked smile curled over his mouth. “Considering we skipped the first date and all. Besides, you keep talking about not letting me go. What if I suddenly realize you snore like a warg, can’t cook, and have plans for thirteen children?”

  “I know the important things,” she replied. “I know you'd risk anything to keep me safe, even your own life. I know no matter what happened to me, you'd come for me. You wouldn't give up on me. I know that, when life gets rough, you'd be there to hold my hand and take away all of my fears. The rest’s just trivial.”

  “Humor me.”

  She knew what he was doing. Trying to keep her mind off her pain. Riley took a deep breath. “I like to cook, and I’m good at it,” she said. “My daddy could only make beans and steak, and you get sick of that pretty quickly, so someone had to learn. A little girl like me, without a mother? Why, I had dozens of my mother’s friends clucking over me, showing me the best way to fry cornbread, or roast Gila. Used to drive me crazy.”

  “What happened to your mother?”

  It still hurt, though not as much as it had once. “She died when I was seven. Lost the baby in birth, and never recovered. Would have been a brother for me. Instead…” She shrugged, clenching her fists. She could never forget that night. The cries getting weaker, then finally stopping. The midwife coming out with a pale face and red-rimmed eyes. ‘I’m sorry, honey. I’ve got some bad news for you…’ And her father, locking himself away for days until he finally emerged, stinking of liquor.

  “And you became your father’s son?” Wade’s words jerked her out of the memories.

  Riley swallowed hard. “I was always my father’s
son. Picked up my first shotgun when I was five. He taught me to drive when I was eight and butcher a cow when I was nine.”

  “You can cook and kill. Handy skill-set.”

  “So I’m passing the wife interview?” she asked teasingly, pushing away the memories of her mama’s loss.

  Luc glanced at her sidelong. “Give a girl an inch, and she starts planning the wedding.”

  Riley’s lungs caught. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know.” He smiled, staring straight ahead. “I’ll ask you one day. Don’t like the thought of other men thinking you’re still available.” Eyes narrowing. “McClain in particular.”

  Riley had nothing to say to that. The road stretched out ahead, dusty and barren. “So, do you snore?” she asked quickly. “I’ve been too tired every night to hear.”

  “I don’t snore. Sometimes I get hairy though.”

  Despite herself, she breathed out a laugh. It was the first time he’d ever come close to joking about his curse.

  The questions continued as they walked, and Riley found the distraction welcome. It was comfortable to talk to him, sharing things she’d never really talked about with anyone else. Some of his answers surprised her; he could cook, sew if necessary, and turn his hands to most things. He liked to gamble, didn’t drink, and preferred animals to humans. When he’d been a boy, he’d bred warg-hunting dogs with his father, and he enjoyed dancing to slow music, with a woman pressed tight against him. He liked making love even slower.

  “So, am I passing the husband test?” he asked dryly, humor creasing the fine lines around his eyes.

  Riley smiled as they turned a corner, the jeep coming into view. “I make your odds about even.”

  A hand slapped her bottom, then Luc strode ahead. Riley’s laughter cut off as she realized he was scanning for danger. “Anything?”

  “Nothing alive.” Still, he didn’t relax as they approached the jeep, keeping his body between her and any sign of danger.

  He’d never be an easy man to live with, she thought as she watched him circle the vehicle. Some of her friends would struggle to accept his nature, and they’d never be able to live in a large settlement. But he’d protect her with his life, and he’d never expect her to be something she wasn’t.

  Besides, she needed someone to argue with. Someone who challenged her to stand at his side, not just step in front of her to protect her. Someone who pushed her to be the woman she knew she could be, not just the type of woman he wanted.

  “You passed the test,” Riley admitted, watching as he slid his hands under one side of the jeep, the muscles in his thighs bunching.

  A quick glance from scorching blue eyes and then he ground his teeth and lifted, biceps straining. The jeep shuddered, metal groaning, and then it slowly lifted on its side as he tipped it over.

  A cloud of dust swooshed out from underneath as it landed on all four wheels. The grill was dented, the front window smashed clean out. There was more rust on the panels than green paint, and the gun turret was painted with dried blood.

  A body slumped over the wheel, flies buzzing. Luc’s lip curled and he yanked the door open, cutting the safety belt with his claws. The flies disappeared as he jumped into the back of the jeep and kicked the body out onto the ground at her feet.

  “Any water?” she asked, wincing a little. Every part of her body ached.

  “Got a canteen.” He rifled through a pack. “You’re not drinking it though. Not until I can get something fresh for you.”

  Her mouth was so dry she almost didn’t care. Then she glanced down at the reiver, with his cracked lips. A leather aviator’s cap covered his hair, and his goggles cut into his swollen white flesh as he gaped at nothing.

  “I’m not drinking it,” she agreed. Wouldn’t take them that long to find fresh water. Not with the dammed river below.

  There were three packs in the back of the jeep. Wade held out a hand to help her up, then knelt down and rifled through them, discarding useless – or disgusting – items, and stockpiling the rest.

  “You ever been up to Copperplate?” he asked.

  “Once,” Riley admitted, sorting out the pile of ammo. “It’s the sort of thing we kids used to do, before the reivers started hitting the settlements hard. Sneak out, go up to Copperplate or out to the salt marshes, and race the jeeps, climb the hoodoos, drink applejack we’d filched from home. It was a while ago now."

  Wade swiftly filled her in on the details he’d found while scouting. Riley was impressed, and commented on it. She’d never have expected him to be so organized, almost military proficient.

  “Only smart bounty hunters survive out there on the Rim of the Great Divide,” he said with a shrug. “It’s a different world to this one.” A hard laugh. “Makes the Wastelands look like a kid’s playground. Lot of caves and caverns in the Great Divide. Maybe the meteor carved ‘em out, don’t know. Means there’s a lot of revenants, a lot of shadow-cats. Not that you ever see them. Just their tracks. My uncle taught me to hunt, and he didn’t suffer fools lightly. Used to be a Confederate frontline scout before he bailed. Tough as nails.”

  She was curious. “And your parents?”

  Wade’s expression softened. “My father was a rancher. Mom… She was a bit like Uncle Robert. Fleeing from something. She never said what, but you could see it in her eyes. Used to prowl the house at night. Never slept well. Hid under the bed during thunderstorms. My father passed when I was eight, so Uncle Robert mostly had the raising of me.”

  “He taught you well, then.”

  Wade’s hands hesitated on the pile. “He would have shot me, if I’d come home like this. So I didn’t. Knew he’d look after Abbie and Lily. Didn’t want to see that look on his face, you know?”

  Riley knelt down, taking the full pack from him. “Sounds a lot like my daddy. I think he’d be proud of you though, Luc. Not everyone would have fought the way you have.”

  “Maybe.” The answer was non-committal, expression locked down tight. “Think you can find the keys to this thing?”

  There was no sign of them. “I can do better.”

  “Riley Kincaid,” he tsked, as she climbed into the front seat and pulled the cover off the steering column, revealing the car's wires. “I thought you were a good girl.”

  “Oh, I am. I'm good at a lot of things."

  “That you are.” He slung the pair of packs into close reach behind the seats and shoved a shotgun into a pre-made holster that had been attached to the door. Grimly, he slid into the seat beside her. “Let’s do this.”

  The realization of what was about to happen made her heart start pounding. “Nervous?” she asked, noting the stiff line of his shoulders as he stared toward the east.

  “Scared.” His gaze cut to hers. “I’ve never had anything to lose since I turned warg. Don’t know whether that’s a blessin’ or not.”

  Riley’s breath caught.

  Looking down, she stripped the insulation from the battery wires and twisted them together. Then she carefully sparked the ignition wire against them. The jeep’s engine kicked, and a rumble started deep under the hood. Once more, jamming her foot down to rev the engine a couple of times, and it growled to life.

  Slowly, Riley eased it into gear, the movement tearing through her ribs. The crash the day before had wrought damage to the jeep, but mostly it was superficial.

  Kind of like her, she guessed. Battered, bruised, trembling with exhaustion, and fueled by determination.

  “You got a plan?” she asked.

  “Something along the lines of Black River,” he replied. “This can’t be a full frontal assault. I won’t risk Lily. Or you.”

  “And if they don’t give us any choice?”

  He cut her a sharp look. “Then I’ll make a deal. Myself for Lily. I won’t fight them, as long as they let you get away with her cleanly.”

  The words hit Riley like a punch to the chest. “Son of a bitch,” she swore. “That’s the only reason you let me come, isn’t it?
”

  The look on his face was answer enough.

  The mine was high in the Altera Mountains. Some said you could even see the edge of the Great Rift from the highest peak, if you had a pair of binoculars, but then those were rare in the settlements. A gun scope was the better alternative.

  The last time she’d been here, she’d been all of fifteen, and reivers were barely a threat this far out. They’d moved in swiftly in the last few years, driven north by the slave-traders along the border of New Mérida, and possibly the abundance of reiver packs that supplied the slavers down south.

  Wade guided her along an old canyon track that seemed more of a path to bighorn or the native goats out here than an actual road. Huge ruts made the bottom of the jeep scrape several times, and she was aching all over from the muscle needed to fight the vehicle in the direction she wanted. Finally, the wheels locked in a crevice and spun, spraying up sand and gravel behind them.

  Riley took her foot off the gas and sighed. “I think this is as far as we go.”

  For obvious reasons, they couldn’t take the main road to Copperplate, but Wade seemed to know the mountains like the back of his hand. He nodded, a swift glance at the sun betraying his tension. It was mid-afternoon.

  “We’ve got about three miles to hike. Think you’re up to it?”

  Riley stared at the winding track that climbed ahead of them. “I can do it,” she said, though she didn’t particularly want to. Sitting for so long had stiffened her up.

  “First, let me get this damn thing free,” he muttered, “just in case we need to get out of here in a hurry.”

  We. She took comfort from that. After his little bombshell earlier, she’d been too afraid to even examine what she’d do if that were the only option available to them.

  Wade forced the jeep out of its ruts, and together they backed it into the side of the mountain, his biceps straining. The tight black shirt he wore was torn in several places, leaving part of his chest bare.

  Between them, they got the jeep turned around, ready to leave, and Riley unhooked the battery wires. Fuel gauge wasn’t optimistic, but it might get them back to Absolution.