Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Margo Bond Collins

  Siobhan hugs herself as tears stream down her face. Mine dry. But I have no comfort for her. It will provide me relief to hug and soothe her and I don’t deserve any. I move to sit on a cold hard rock watching the sun streak red. It looks like blood. It sparkles off the morning dew, turning the paddock into a field of tears.

  “Castle Brannach,” I say.

  Siobhan raises her eyes to me. “No,” she whispers the word. “My parents hated the Murtaghs.”

  “We must.” I insist. “There is nothing else for us. We can’t fight them on our own and we can’t live out here in the wild.”

  “Fight them?” Her eyes are wide, reflecting the red of the sunrise. “Are you insane? My father…my paps…the baddest ass Ravensgaard around was…holy fuck, Davin-” Her words choke into gasping sobs as she hunches over clutching herself.

  They ran his own scian through him. Three times. His eyes open and staring at us. We couldn’t look away. I’m going to kill the fucker with long white hair who did that.

  “It’s a safe house,” I murmur, rubbing my hand along her back. “We need somewhere to go or we will be hunted also.”

  “Master Murtagh usurped the queen,” Siobhan’s words are muffled as she hunches over herself, her face buried in her coat.

  “It’s the place we’re all supposed to go if we get dislodged from our home and are alive.” I reach my hand down and clutch her cold fingers in mine. “If anyone has survived, that’s where they’ll be.”

  Her swollen red eyes peer up at me through her tangled black hair.

  “What have they ever done for us?” she asks.

  “I don’t like it any more than you do,” I say. “But they’re the most powerful raven family anywhere and they’re sitting in a protected castle.”

  “They have never stepped foot in an actual battle against the Hunters,” Siobhan says. “They do nothing while we die on the front lines.”

  I lower my face to hers, making sure she can see the truth in my eyes. “We have nowhere else to go.”

  She stares out to the horizon, now a pale, limp blue.

  “You know I’m right,” I say.

  Her head bows as she sucks in her cheeks and blows out a breath. Her tangled hair moving against her pale cheeks.

  “Fine.” She breathes the word into the tear-stained grass.

  My heart clutches at her words. It’s a small victory I’m grateful for. We need help. We need to know if there are survivors. We need reinforcements.

  Three days later we’re bedraggled, exhausted, and hungry. We’ve managed to subsist as ravens, but I’m tired of worms and ready for some dumplings and mash when we finally get to the Fox and Crow. It’s not hard to spot the bright blue freestanding pub when we fly over the village at night. It’s a clear target from the air. Ravensgaard aren’t stupid.

  The village is small but part of the battalion protecting the castle. The first line of defense is made up of small villages and pubs splaying out in a wide circle. We have shifters in all of them, but the Fox and Crow is the only one that will help you gain entry to the castle. The rest are all rigid and survive in protection mode.

  I shiver in the chill night air, but pretty sure it’s not from cold. Siobhan clutches my hand as I pull open the door. I never thought I would come to this place. The petite blond behind the bar looks us up-and-down as we enter. Clearly she’s not impressed with my bright red wild hair and ripped up clothes.

  “You look like a couple of strays,” she says.

  I hear Siobhan’s stomach growl and tilt my head at the girl behind the bar.

  “We want to go to Castle Brannach.” I don’t have time for pleasantries.

  “And you think the good Master allows anyone to walk into his castle?” she asks.

  I lean across the counter, not touching any of the weapons strapped to my body, but making sure she has clear sight of them. My voice is low.

  “You might spend all your time around here serving drinks,” I say. “But I’ve spent my life on the streets killing Hunters and I’ve learned a thing or two. If you don’t want to experience those things I’ve learned, you might want to cut the crap and tell us how we get into Castle Brannach. I have a message for the great Master Murtagh.”

  I don’t tell her my message is that he fucked up and we need more resources if we’re going to sort out this problem of the Hunters once and for all.

  A knife slams, point first, between my fingers and into the counter; its blade presses cold against my skin. My fingers twitch, but I don’t move my hand, even though I want to punch her face.

  “You think I’m afraid of you?” The woman asks. Her eyes switch from me to Siobhan and back to me. “You’re at the gate of the Ravensgaards. Do you think they put just anyone here?”

  She has a point.

  “I don’t know how you people do it up in Dublin,” she says, “but here we have rules and protocol.”

  “These girls giving you trouble, Caitlin?” A voice asks over my shoulder.

  I use the distraction as an excuse to withdraw my hand and turn away from her. A black haired, sharp-featured man steps forward and leans against the counter. His black eyes are penetrating and unnerving as he twists a ring on his index finger.

  “I can handle them, Riordan, to be sure,” Caitlin says.

  “We won’t be any trouble if someone can get us to Castle Brannach,” I say. The pub is empty but, regardless, Riordan slowly scans the room as if I shouldn’t be mentioning the castle out loud.

  “And who might you be?” he asks, his gaze takes in every part of my outfit and I suddenly feel as if I wish I didn’t have four days’ worth of dirt on me. My clothes could all use a wash.

  “Davin.” I raise my chin and look him in the eye to make sure he realizes I’m not intimidated by him. “This is Siobhan.” I motion toward my friend, whose eyes are still swollen and glazed from tears. That’s all the introduction I’m capable of this early in the morning.

  “Why has she been crying?” His brows knit together.

  Siobhan ducks her head self-consciously and wipes an arm against her tear-stained face.

  “We’re from the Dublin cabal.” I lean in to make sure he understands my words. “We got annihilated. Unless anyone else has shown up, we’re the lone survivors, so I would thank you to take us to Castle Brannach so we can get some support from the Master.”

  “You can’t be speaking to the Master’s son that way.” Caitlin pulls the knife out of the counter, holding it steady in her hand.

  My nerves are raw and jagged. The shifters who were my family are all gone. From the moment they took me in, I have lived my life with them training and growing and fighting the asshole humans who are trying to wipe us off the face of the earth. I throw her a glare.

  “Maybe that’s exactly how I should be speaking to him. He’s likely the only one who can take us to him.”

  Riordan’s face changes. “You’re from Dublin,” He leans forward. His hand grips my elbow as if I need some sort of support.

  I back out of his clasp and hold my back up straight. “Yeah,” I say.

  “We have scouts who told us of the attack,” Riordan looks over at Siobhan. “We didn’t think there were any survivors.”

  “No one else showed up?” Siobhan asks, her voice catching in her throat.

  My gaze flips to Caitlin, hoping maybe it’s wrong. But the look on her face makes it clear. They were waiting for stragglers and we’re the only ones who arrived.

  “Come on.” Riordan doesn’t touch me again. He steps back and motions us toward the door. “I’ll take you to the castle.”

  We step outside and, although there’s no people around, Riordan doesn’t hesitate to shift right out in the middle of the road. He flies into the sky as Siobhan and I exchange a look. It’s a far cry from the way we live in the shadows of Dublin, always hiding and trying to avoid being spotted.

  “Are you okay?” I ask Siobhan, who stands shivering in the cold. It’s a dumb ass question. Of co
urse, she isn’t okay.

  “My father always said, you have to take care of yourself by any means possible.” Her breath is shaking as she inhales. “I can do this.”

  Before I can even think of a response she shifts and climbs in the air flying after Riordan. I jump and transform, racing to keep up so I don’t get completely lost.

  Flying at night when you don’t know where you’re going and you’re trying to follow a black raven is pretty damn difficult. When I catch up with them they’re flying side-by-side. I keep them a few feet in front of me so I can see their tails, but I don’t bother completely catching up. I might be naturally competitive, but not in this case.

  Our clan didn’t trust Master Murtagh and there isn’t a lot of reason for us to trust his son.

  We land in a field somewhere in the middle of gloom and darkness. The full moon is up, casting pale blue light across everything. In the distance, I can see black spires.

  “Why did we stop here?” I ask. “We’re still two miles from the castle.”

  Riordan looks at me sideways. “What do you mean?”

  “Why are we landing out here in a freaking field when the castle is right there?” I’m too tired and hungry to waste time in the mud.

  “You can see the castle?” Riordan asks.

  “What are you playing at?” I ask. “Of course I can see the damn castle. It’s right there.”

  “What castle?” Siobhan is looking at us like we’re crazy, her gaze following my finger toward the horizon.

  I tilt my head to look at her and open my mouth to say something, but I’m dumbfounded. “How can you not see the castle?” I finally ask.

  “Good question,” Riordan says with a soft lilt to his voice. “But a better question, to be sure, is how can you see it, Davin?”

  “With my eyes,” I say.

  Riordan’s glare flicks toward me as if I’m wasting his time. “I’ll show you,” he says to Siobhan. He clasps her on the shoulders, staring down into her face and murmurs in the damp night. “What is dark, may you see. What is light, may you avoid. See the truth lying before thee.”

  “What sort of mumbo-jumbo is that?” I ask.

  Riordan raises his hand over Siobhan’s head and, holy fuck, something’s happening to her. Her eyes grow wide and her mouth goes slack. Some sort of a thin black smoke moves around her hair.

  “Are you okay?” I ask. “What’s wrong Siobhan?”

  Her hand moves through the air and she cracks it against Riordan’s face. “What the fuck, asshole?” Her voice is shrill.

  Riordan doesn’t flinch from the slap. In fact, he looks like he might have enjoyed it. “Take a look.” He turns her toward the castle.

  “Hod did that get there?” Siobhan asks.

  “It always was there,” Riordan says. His eyes glow ebony in the dim moon light as he turns toward me. “How did you know the spell?”

  “I don’t know any spell.” I counter.

  “If you hadn’t heard it before, then there’s no way you could’ve seen the castle,” he murmurs. “When were you here before?”

  “I wasn’t,” I say. “This is bullshit. Come on, I’m tired, I’m hungry, she’s hungry. Take us to the castle now.”

  His eyes are disappearing in the night, they’re so dark, but I don’t care. I need to eat. My hand grips my scian in my belt. I’m sure he’s not intimidated, but the glance from his eyes tells me he sees my movements. He nods and waves us upward.

  We take off and fly the last couple of miles toward the castle. The black castle walls rise cold and foreboding before us. A chill emanates from them that seems to go beyond the natural night air.

  “You better shower before you meet my father,” he says as we land and shift on the gravel outside the imposing castle doors.

  He sounds like an asshole, but I can smell myself from here. I’d like to be offended, but a hot shower sounds good.

  “I’m in,” I say.

  Riordan claps his hands and a maid appears out of nowhere. “Take them to the guest suites. The one on the top level,” he says.

  The maid gives us a curtsy.

  “Must be nice,” I murmur under my breath. “Take them to the chambers on the top floor.” I mimic a pompous accent. “He sounds like a British ass.”

  Siobhan elbows me. “You chose this,” she says.

  “We didn’t have a choice.”

  “I agree. So shut up and be grateful we’re going to get a hot bath, and if we’re lucky maybe a meal and a night in bed?”

  It’s a little bit annoying that when she says “night in bed” I get a flash of Riordan’s piercing eyes. I shake the image away and follow the maid up the winding, broad stairs. She avoids the main hallway with massive oak doors and takes us instead up another set of stairs to a dark, small hallway.

  She flips on the light switch as we walk down the hall. The place is a little dusty and doesn’t look like it’s in use very often, if at all. But that’s fine with me. I’ve never seen anything so grand and impressive as this castle. The intricate detail of wrought wood and stone merge together in knots and wings. The wood from the bannister reaches out to the wall and interlaces with stone as if they are clasping on to each other. The hallway is thin and tall with straight stone lines but curving wooden cornices that soften each doorway, inviting you in. At least up here the rooms look a little more reasonably sized.

  She unlocks one of the doors and hands us the key.

  “This part of the castle hasn’t been updated,” she says. “The bathroom is down the hall, and you’ll find towels on your beds, miss.”

  “Were you expecting us?” I ask.

  “We were expecting some survivors from Dublin,” the girl says. “In fact, we were expecting a few more than just you.

  Tears sting the back of my eyes but I remember how much I despise the humans and the heat of my hatred evaporates any sniffling that was trying to get out. I refuse to show how lacerated I am by the murders of my family.

  “We shall serve you some food before you go to meet the master,” the maid says. “We’ll have it brought to your room.”

  I glance into the chamber. The ceilings are low and dark. It’s all natural hardwood. There are two twin size beds, one on either side, the bedspreads are an antique floral pattern, as if someone’s grandmother used to live here. But I don’t really mind. The large pillows and the heavy quilts look like heaven compared to the night we spent outdoors. And it’s a good deal nicer than the room we shared in Dublin. Even as I think the words I feel a guilty. That was my home.

  We just need reinforcements so we can go back and avenge the death of our people.

  “You go first,” Siobhan says, picking at a white towel.

  “There’s no need to take turns,” the maid chirps. “There is a bath at either end of the hall, please help yourself. But you must hurry, we mustn’t keep the master waiting. He doesn’t like that at all.”

  I refrain from rolling my eyes, because I need the guy on my side. I need him. I need his son. I need everybody up here on our side. I can’t fight the Hunters alone.

  It’s only when I’m standing in the shower with the hot water pouring down my back that I loosen up. A slight tint of red runs in the water, coming down like blood, but it’s only the dye in my hair. It always does that. I’ve had to replace it every few weeks, only now I don’t think that’s going to be possible. From the look of the village up here, they’re not exactly selling red hair dye on the street corner.

  A thumping in the pipes startles me and my body shakes. My breath catches in my throat. All I see is Mrs. O’Leary’s head lying in a blood-stained pool on the carpet splattered with small rust red drops.

  They followed us back.

  Those dumb kids recruiting people at the concert knew we were shifters. They beat us at our own game. When we left, thinking they would start recruiting us, they turned the tables. Siobhan and I are responsible for the death of everybody in our cabal.

  Black vengeance fills
me. I will destroy them. I will kill every last Hunter on the face of the earth and wipe their alliance off the planet. Especially those two.

  How dare they? How dare they think we are demon spawn?

  My hand grips the bar of soap so hard I make dents in the side of it before it slips out of my hand and falls on the slick tile. I leave it where it lies and finish rinsing, then step out of the shower quickly. There’s no sense in getting relaxed and comfortable when we should be battling against the Hunters.

  I dry off with the two towels I found. The one I wrap around my head I’m sure is turning red, but right now I don’t care. I’m invigorated by the hot water and I want to speak to Master Murtagh.

  When I return to our room Siobhan is there, already wolfing down soup and bread, her eyes on a pile of lamb and potatoes. There’s a platter of food on my bed also, but I can barely eat anymore. All I can manage is the soup. I’m tired and worn out.

  “What’s our strategy?” I ask.

  Siobhan looks up, her mouth full of bread, her eyebrows drawn together so tightly they look like a bird in flight.

  “Strategy?” she asks, her mouth full of food.

  “To get Master Murtagh’s support.” I explain. “How are we going to get them to send a battalion with us to flush out the Hunters?”

  Siobhan’s eyes widen and she shakes her head slowly. “I don’t know if I want to go back, Davin,” she says.

  “What do you mean you don’t want to go back?” My spoon clatters into my bowl. “You’re just going to let our family lie there, rotting into the ground? Unavenged?”

  “No,” she says slowly. “Listen. Clearly something must be done. But it doesn’t have to be us. They can send somebody else. There’s got to be a ton of warriors here. This is Castle Brannach, hidden home of the Ravensgaards.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I say. All these Ravensgaard live it up here in a safe haven. They have no idea what it’s like out there with the Hunters. They hide in their castle, so far removed from the world. How can they know, how on god’s green earth can they know, about battle?”