Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Margo Bond Collins

  A library.

  I was beginning to love the space… until I realized who I was accompanied with.

  And she didn’t waste any time to start scolding me.

  “Dropping something like this into the holy water is like single-handedly paving your way to hell,” she whispered, her tone forceful as she waggled the crystal in front of my face.

  It must’ve been the close proximity of the stone, or the herbs it was laced with, but I suddenly felt faint, my strength completely focused on staying upright while the witch of a woman scolded me.

  Yet, she wasn’t a witch… that I knew for a fact. I might not have been the best at pegging which sancti was which, but I could definitely tell when someone had no supernatural powers… I could tell when someone was only a mere mortal, no specialties to be had other than breathing the same air as us.

  “Your mother would be very disappointed in you,” she added, her tone becoming more grave by the second.

  That got my attention.

  “What the hell do you know about my mother?” I exclaimed, my voice carrying across the room and bouncing off the walls full of books.

  She shushed me right away, taking a few steps toward me with the goddamn rock in her hand. “Don’t be so loud, child! What is wrong with you?”

  I sighed, my body trying to stay upright. Being in an enclosed room with that godforsaken crystal was much more intense than when it was in my pocket outdoors. “The only thing wrong with me is that stone you have in your hand. Please—” I took a deep breath and braced myself on the lone desk in the room with my hand. “Please, get it away from me.”

  Thankfully, concern flooded her face. My guess was she sincerely didn’t realize just how bad the artifact was for me, or why I had thrown it into the pool of holy water.

  Confusion filled my mind as I watched her close her eyes and take a deep breath, the rough, black rock clutched in her hand like she was listening to it in some way.

  She didn’t ask for any more clarification. Instead, she opened a desk drawer and tossed the rock inside before pushing me away until my back hit the farthest bookcase. Her face tensed up even more, her brows furrowing in confusion, as she advanced on me and grabbed my hands, turning my palms upright so she could examine them.

  A quick intake of air hissed through my teeth when she finally reached my left hand, her fingers grazing along the singed skin where the crystal once touched. I bit my cheek in an attempt to not curse her out for her carelessness or lack of empathy. She clearly didn’t know how bad a burn hurt.

  “What—do you know—about—my mother?” I asked through gritted teeth. The woman was hurting me more than I already was, but the question still stuck firm in my mind.

  “I don’t know your mother,” she said, her tone a bit bashful as if she misspoke. “I just meant, in general, a mother would be disappointed in such a careless child.”

  And that statement is what got my hackles up. How dare she judge what a mother finds disappointing in their child. Hell, my mom was never around. The only disappointment was her, not me.

  And yet, I let the woman’s words get into my head.

  18

  I stayed quiet, my body wanting nothing more than to just lay down, my muscles going on auto-pilot while screaming mayday every few seconds. I needed to get out of here, but I wanted to make sure the stone was safe before I did.

  “Why are you here?” the woman asked, her tone a bit more pleasant than before. She bent her head, making eye contact with me like I was a child.

  I shook my head. I had to think of a reason quickly without giving myself away. If I started using mumbo jumbo like poisoned crystals, a mortali would have me committed.

  “I found that rock,” I started, nodding toward the drawer she put it in. “And after picking it up, I noticed I was having a reaction to it. I’m… umm… I’m a student at the local university and study geology, so I thought I would take it into class to show my teacher. That was when it began to burn my hand. The bowls of holy water were the nearest thing I could find to relieve the burn.”

  There. She could just scold me for tainting the holy water and let me go on my way. Or she could think I was nuts. I imagined it going either way.

  A thoughtful sound escaped her throat, almost as if she had to contemplate with herself about what to do with me.

  I wasn’t sure why, but I suddenly thought of Branton and wished he were here with me. He would know what to do. But, I had no idea the limits of a warlock entering a sacred place.

  “I don’t quite understand why a simple rock would burn you,” she blurted out. Her face pinched in concentration, like she was hiding something or didn’t want to say what was on her mind.

  This was dragging on for way too long. Impatience was getting the better of me and I began to fidget.

  “Look, I just needed to get the stone away from me, but I don’t want anything to happen to it. I need to… to maybe…” I stuttered, unsure of what to say. Should I be honest with her and say I want the crystal, but I can’t hold it? “I just might need to take it to someone who can tell me what it’s made of and why it bothered me. It would make for a great research project in school.” I tried to keep my tone sweet, even though I felt nothing but impatience swell as the seconds ticked on.

  The woman took a moment to process my words before going to the door, looking out to make sure no one was around, and then shutting it, closing us in the little library. My sigh of impatience couldn’t be ignored.

  “You’re in some trouble, aren’t you?” she asked as she leaned up against the desk, her arms and legs crossed in a relaxing sort of stance. That was when I noticed how pretty she was. Nah, pretty was an understatement. She was gorgeous. She had some curves on her, but proportionally so, and her straight, black hair flowed around her shoulders and down past her elbows, making it look like the black veil of a nun’s habit. She looked to be of Asian descent, though her lack of an accent told me she was very Americanized.

  It took me a second to remember her question. “Other than the fact my boyfriend is probably wondering where I went, no. No trouble,” I said in an attempt to weave partial truths into the mix.

  “Okay,” she sang disbelievingly. “My name is Neekie and I’m a crystals specialist. That,” she said, pointing toward the drawer, “is no joke. Someone is trying to kill you with a crystal like that.”

  I was stunned. This woman was definitely not any sancti I had ever met before, yet she clearly must’ve known about us for her to speak so freely about something like this.

  She continued. “Usually, crystals are used to boost energy—to absorb the earth’s energies so that we can carry them around as a catalyst for health and improvement. But whoever screwed around with that black tourmaline meant for it to be an energy sucker. And the way it has burnt you, I’d say someone laced it with something toxic.”

  I stood there, my mouth wide open in surprise, as I stared at Neekie. What was I supposed to say to her?

  “Look, is it possible that the stone can stay where you put it until I have someone come get it later, please?” I questioned, figuring it couldn’t hurt to at least ask.

  It looked like she was about to argue, but with a curt nod of her head, she finally said, “Yes.”

  “Thank you,” I blurted, my body still feeling the effects of the crystal taking over me.

  “I work here at the church, so I’ll be sure no one touches it. It really shouldn’t get into the wrong hands,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Agreed.”

  I didn’t waste any time getting the hell away from the dang thing, needing my strength. However, I did hesitate when I reached the cathedral’s open doors. I could almost feel Dean out there waiting for me. I just wished I had enough time to get my energy back before crossing paths with him again.

  No time like the present, I slunk my way out of the doors and down the steps, taking it slow as I went. I wished I had my phone, but I usually always kept it under the bar along with m
y keys while I worked. It wasn’t like I could tell Sarah, hang on, don’t kidnap me yet. I need my phone.

  Then I wondered how the hell I was going to get home. I couldn’t call anyone unless I asked to borrow a phone. Then again, I didn’t remember anyone’s phone numbers. I relied way too much on my phone to be caught in this city without it.

  I could’ve always called the bar, and I could just imagine all of them freaking out about where I’d gone. Nah. A bus would work to get back to the bar and get my things.

  I hated riding the bus. It was always so sticky and stinky, and the men on there had a horrible way of showing their attraction. Creeps.

  Thankfully, it didn’t take long to get to the bus stop across the street from my pub, and I was grateful I didn’t have to spend another second on that dang thing. I was also thankful I didn’t have any creepy run-ins with anyone and the fact that I didn’t have to look at Dean’s infuriating face… for tonight at least.

  To say I was shocked to find the pub door locked up tight was a bit of an understatement. My keys and phone were both behind locked doors. It made me wonder what time it was. It couldn’t have been too late… didn’t boat parades usually run earlier in the evening?

  “Didn’t expect them to just close up shop and forget about you, huh?” A male voice said from behind me… way too close behind me.

  I spun around to see Dean—that motherfucker. I wanted to rip his face off his head, I was so angry.

  I didn’t say anything. There was nothing I had to say to the man. Instead, I planted my feet firm on the sidewalk and took a defensive stance. There were a few lingering people on the streets, so I was confident Dean wouldn’t make any obvious moves.

  “I’m curious why you ran from me,” he said, a sinister smile spreading across his face. “It’s not like you to give up without a fight.”

  Even though he was correct, I still wasn’t going to give him the time of day by responding to his obvious insult. Yes, it wasn’t like me to run away from a threat. But, whoever was taking lead on this manhunt against me clearly had powers beyond my knowledge. Not only that, but fighting who I thought was a friend wasn’t exactly on my bucket list.

  I couldn’t help myself… I blurted out the first thing that touched my tongue. “You were supposed to be a friend, Dean!” I regretted it as soon as I said it.

  “Number one, the name is not Dean,” he said, his voice sizzling with nothing but vile sounds. Before I could process what was happening, his form changed, morphed into a man I hadn’t met before. “It’s Blake.” The venomous grin on his face spoke of nothing but evil and hateful determination. “And you, Kirsi, were never my friend.”

  My weaknesses got the best of me, and I gasped with surprise. I stared at the form before me, the one who looked just like Dean mere moments before.

  He’s an echo.

  I’d never met one before… not that I knew of anyway. But I’d heard of them before. This Blake fellow was very similar to his little girl pal, Sarah, who was a glimmering Fae. Basically, Echos had the ability to manipulate the minds of anyone they wanted. Read. Write. Execute. It was their way of life.

  While similar to Sarah, Blake had the ability to manipulate anyone’s mind into thinking they were someone they weren’t. They had shape-shifting abilities, allowing them to replicate the appearance of another being. In this case, he was echoing my friend, Dean.

  Which meant…

  “What have you done with him?” I hollered, no longer caring who the hell was around to hear. If he was able to echo Dean, that meant he had him somewhere so that he could take form, along with reading Dean’s memories… memories of me. There was always a sacrifice when using powers. Always.

  “Interesting,” he said, his mouth still upturned in a malevolent little smirk. “Just moments ago, you absolutely loathed your bestie for turning on you. Now you’re worried about his wellbeing? Who’s to say he hasn’t turned on you and is allowing me to use him as a catalyst to poke at your weaknesses?”

  “Because he wouldn’t do that,” I responded, never letting my guard down as I spoke. “And good trumps evil.”

  “You’re so naïve,” he said with a laugh—a chuckle you’d expect to hear from a fictional wicked witch. “There’s no such thing as good. No sancti is good at heart. Not even you, precious elemental.”

  I didn’t bother to rebuke his statement. Sinful beings wouldn’t recognize a divine heart even if it slapped them in the face. Instead, I used my senses to feel around, wishing to all that was holy that Sade would be up in her apartment above the bar.

  “There’s no one here to help you, oh desperate one,” he said. His voice had changed—no longer echoing that of Dean. And it was seriously grating on my last nerve.

  I kept quiet, acting as if I were cornered, huddling in on myself and cowering toward the glass door that opened into the pub. I wanted to fool him into thinking he had me. He wasn’t a glimmer, so as far as him reading my mind, he was lost. He could only manipulate my mind, and right now, I could tell he wasn’t. My head didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did moments before.

  All while I was pretending to give in, to give up and show my weakness, I extended my senses out, feeling each and every groove of the bricks along the outside of the building in the hopes Sade would’ve been around to assist me.

  It didn’t take long for me to tell she wasn’t home… she was nowhere near. Usually, I could feel her heat so easily. She didn’t have to be close for me to break a sweat. Yet now… nothing. No heat, no power surges. Nothing.

  The street was now empty and I was alone, aside from this malus standing before me.

  19

  I knew what I had to do.

  Protect myself.

  Protect my pendant.

  Protect my family.

  Without another single second of hesitation, I reached to take my glasses off my face, ready and willing to take this dude out with only a few simple thoughts.

  And that’s when I realized my glasses were gone. I hadn’t had them. I also didn’t know when I’d lost them.

  Curses.

  “Looking for these?” the being named Blake said, holding up my frames as if they were a dog treat for me to pounce on. What I didn’t quite understand was why he would want me to not have them on. Did he really want me to lose control of my powers so easily?

  Then, it dawned on me. I’ve gone for at least the past few hours without them on my face, even while riding on the bus with other mortali around me. Which meant I had serious control like I’d never had before. I had been practicing for such control, yet the realization still took me by surprise.

  The revelation was like night and day.

  And Branton was right. I could totally do this!

  “You’re an idiot,” I blurted out, needing him to know what a stupid move that was to take my glasses. He clearly didn’t know me well enough if he thought that was a smart move.

  He laughed, his giggle one of horror movies. “Dean always thought you were more powerful than you let on. Now I know just how true his thoughts were.”

  I wasn’t going to have a single problem beating this malus to a pulp. Now that he no longer looked like Dean, I could take him out without a single moment of hesitation.

  My eyes concentrated on his legs, coalescing moisture until it began to freeze him to the nasty, gum-filled sidewalk. Before I could kick his ice-covered knees, simultaneously breaking his legs like two goddamn pencils, a form appeared behind him, as if he had an angel protecting him in some way.

  The woman, face still unseen, had a white glow like I’d only seen once in my lifetime.

  Right after my father died.

  “Mother,” I said. It wasn’t a question. I knew it was her.

  “Tell me who sent you, Blake,” she whispered. It wasn’t until she spoke that I could see her face, her lips forming first and spreading over her features like a flashlight illuminating a pathway.

  Before I could react, I saw what she was holding.
In her glowing, translucent hand was a knife as solid as life itself, the metal glistening beneath her radiance. The newfound light caused Blake’s black eyes to glow with surprise. His eyes widened and a white blaze reflected in his pupils.

  “Mari,” he whispered in reverence. He knew her. It was obvious he also feared her. He didn’t struggle… didn’t bother trying to get away.

  She intimidated him.

  And clearly, he was unable to hold his form any longer in her presence, his body shifting into something otherworldly. I’d never seen anything like it before. His head was shaped like a lizard, his entire body full of scales and his arms shortening in length. Yet, no tail extended from him, which was disproportional to the rest of his body, but still something that had me speechless.

  “Open the door, Kirsi!” my mother hissed while still holding the lizard-looking man at knifepoint.

  “I would if I could,” I said in a snarky tone while folding my arms over my chest in defiance. If she were almighty and all knowing, she would’ve known I was locked out. No matter how timely her presence was, it still didn’t mean I was going to roll over and play dead on her goddamn command.

  Shock filled every fiber of my being when the door behind me started to unlock and open. I heard and felt the clicking of the lock, the turn of the handle, and the breeze of air that rushed through the opening as the door parted from the casing.

  For the first time since Blake made his presence known, I turned my back on him. I might’ve despised my mom, but I knew she’d keep him under wraps. No way would my own flesh and blood allow an evil being to attack her own daughter.

  Then again, most would call me naïve to give her so much freedom with my wellbeing, especially considering the state she left us in when we were little. Regardless of what others thought, my dad once trusted her, and therefore, when it came to my life, I trusted her too. After all, if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t exist.