Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Margo Bond Collins

  I couldn’t move, could barely even breathe after the verbal lashing. I hadn’t realized how much he had at stake. He was in a situation nearly as dangerous as my own—and he’d walked into it willingly, with full comprehension of the consequences, all to seek out justice for Morgan’s death.

  “Morgan purchased me from the farm when I was thirteen,” I said softly. “The last time I saw my mother, she brushed my hair and told me to be strong. Except for trimming the ends to keep them healthy, I have not cut my hair since.” My voice trembled, and I swallowed hard to steady it. “I know after seven years that my hair now isn’t the same hair she touched. But it’s the only thing I have of her.”

  Nick didn’t reply, and the cab remained silent and somber for a minute. We passed through a stoplight, and almost immediately began slowing for the next one thanks to downtown traffic.

  “How do you feel about a wig?” he finally said.

  I chuckled. “Not bad, but I have a better idea.”

  I donned my new disguise in the convenience store bathroom. Nick had given me cash and a Dodgers cap from the glove compartment of his truck, and we’d entered the store separately. I’d spent several minutes picking through the women’s aisle to find everything I needed, while Nick wandered, periodically checking on me.

  I grinned as I applied the last bit of makeup. He wouldn’t even recognize me now.

  First I’d covered the bruises around my throat—they were far and away the most noticeable blemish. Then I’d hidden the dark circles under my eyes and blended foundation from my neck to my hairline. Next I did my eyes, being generous with black eyeliner and mascara, until the smoky look reminded me of the kohl my mother had occasionally used on her own eyes.

  Lastly I untied the bolt of extra cloth from around my waist. The makeup would help, but I needed to hide my distinctive long, dark hair. And if I could hide my face as well without anyone batting an eye, all the better. So I shook out the fabric and draped it carefully over my head, folding and tucking until I’d worked it into a plain hijab, the headdress of a devout Muslim woman. It was as much a djinn religion as a human one, something shared through centuries of my people visiting the human realm before their enslavement. I wasn’t a believer though—if Allah was real, how could he allow one of his creations to shackle the other?

  But it would make a suitable disguise. I tucked in the final corner of the fabric, covering my mouth and nose so only my darkened eyes showed. They glittered back at me in the mirror. Hopefully this wardrobe change would serve me longer than the last one.

  I secured the hijab in place with a few safety pins, swept the makeup and Nick’s baseball cap into the shopping bag, and left the store. Nick leaned against his truck where he’d snagged a parking spot down the block in front of gym. He didn’t even notice me as I approached until I stopped in front of him.

  His eyes widened as he studied me. “Adira?”

  I smiled. “The fact you have to ask means this is much better than a cut and color.”

  “Not bad,” he muttered under his breath, opening the passenger door for me.

  I climbed in, still grinning. He could begrudge my idea all he wanted, but his own actions proved it would work. He got in and we merged into downtown traffic with a roar, heading to Morgan’s building and the real test of my new disguise.

  Traffic slowed even further as we approached, and my heart sank when I saw why. Orange cones blocked the lane in front of Morgan’s building, protecting a police cruiser and a van with the LAPD logo. A pair of officers stood with the doorman, watching everyone who passed or entered with an eagle eye.

  Nick swore under his breath as we inched forward. “It’s been hours. I thought they’d be done and gone by now.”

  “We’ll have to try again later,” I said, the cloth over my face fluttering with my breath. The streetlight ahead turned red, and we rolled to a stop. “So what should we do next?”

  Before Nick could answer, something tapped loudly at his window. He jerked to look that way, and my blood ran cold. An officer stood at his door, gesturing for Nick to roll down the window. Nick glanced at me before pushing the button.

  “Stay calm,” he hissed without moving his lips as the window slid down. Then he turned back to the officer. “Hey Javier. How’s it going?”

  “Not too bad for an all-nighter,” the officer replied. “What are you doing here, Nick?”

  My eyes widened at the familiar way they addressed each other. If Nick had a friend on the police force, why didn’t he convince him to help us investigate?

  “Just passing through,” Nick said. “I thought they’d be done thought. What’s going on?”

  Javier shrugged. “Forensics is still combing through everything. I hope they’re done soon, I’m starving.”

  “Forensics? I thought they weren’t investigating,” Nick mused. “The djinn claimed she fought the killer. Are they taking her story seriously now?”

  Ahead the streetlight turned green. We’d have to move soon.

  “No, the council is adamant about her fate.” Javier’s face softened. “I am sorry I couldn’t help you get a stay of execution. I know what a blow that is to your inheritance.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Nick said as the stalled traffic ahead of us began to ease forward. “I’ll figure something out.”

  Javier nodded, his eyes sliding to me. “Who’s your friend?”

  I tensed.

  “Sorry, Javi, traffic’s moving.” The truck began rolling forward. “See you later.” Nick sped up to stay with traffic, rolling up the window.

  I couldn’t help but stare at him. “You tried to get a stay of execution? That’s why you were still at the police station when the explosion happened.”

  “I told you, Adira.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “If you really are the only witness, I couldn’t afford to lose you.”

  “Thank you,” I murmured.

  “We need a new plan,” Nick said, so quickly I wondered if he’d heard me. “Has anything odd happened lately? Did Uncle John act strange? You should know if something weird was going on, you were always with him.”

  That was true…except for last night, when he’d sent me to deliver that flash drive. That had definitely been weird. I started to open my mouth to tell Nick about it, but heat flashed through my body, hot tendrils of magic tightening my throat and gluing my jaws shut. My teeth clicked as the magic forced them together. Morgan had compelled me not to speak of the errand.

  Apparently that command hadn’t expired with his death.

  “Adira,” Nick prompted as we slowed for yet another stoplight. “There has to be something.”

  I knew from experience that I couldn’t fight the compulsion. It would only hurt if I tried. So I watched buildings and pedestrians go by outside and searched for something else to say. The magic relaxed as I cast about for another topic, the heat fading from my jaws and vocal cords.

  “I wasn’t with him during your last conversation,” I said. “You seemed angry when you left. What was that about?”

  “Nothing,” Nick said, his voice low.

  “Didn’t sound like nothing.”

  “Leave it,” he ground out. “Think of something else.”

  I rolled my eyes at his childishness. He didn’t have a magic-enforced command binding his tongue. He had the freedom to choose silence—and we both might pay for it. “This investigation is going amazingly well,” I said, unable to hold back. “I can’t wait to see what else you refuse to talk about. I hope the killer doesn’t get away because you were a little uncomfortable.”

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel again. “Think. Of. Something. Else.”

  I stared outside, my mind circling back to the strange errand. My jaws and throat warmed as the compulsion prepared to keep me silent. I couldn’t tell Nick outright about the second time last night I had left Morgan’s side, but maybe I could guide him to that truth indirectly.

  “There was another time I wa
s not with Morgan,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

  Nick perked up. “When? What was he doing?”

  “He was in his office. But that’s not the important part.”

  “Then what is?”

  I took a deep breath, conscious of the compulsion hovering around me. “It would be easier to show you.”

  Nick swore again and yanked the steering wheel, the truck suddenly veering to the right. Cars honked as he cut into a parking structure, plunging us into semi-darkness. A chill shivered down my spine. The last time I’d been in a parking garage, I’d been cuffed and charged with murder.

  Nick pulled into an empty spot and slammed into park, the engine still rumbling as he turned to me. “You have to tell me the truth, Adira. This won’t work if you keep secrets.”

  “Says the man who wouldn’t answer my last question,” I shot back. “You humans and your double standards.”

  Nick sighed heavily. “It was personal, okay? He wanted me to become an activist for a certain cause he recently decided to join. He’s donated to charities and movements before, but this time was different. And I was uncomfortable with it. I said no, he pushed, I left. End of story.”

  He took another deep breath, as if saying even that much had been difficult. I suddenly understood his reluctance to speak. The last time he’d seen his uncle, Nick had fought with him and stormed out of his office. We both had painful memories of leaving someone behind.

  “There, double standard gone,” he said. “Now will you please tell me about this other suspicious incident?”

  Should I tell him that the slave cuffs could compel me to do more than speak the truth? That wasn’t something I wanted humans to know. But he had promised to free me when this was over, and he wasn’t leaving this parking spot until I came clean. “I can’t answer that.”

  Nick growled beside me.

  “I’m not saying I don’t want to,” I said loudly. “I’m saying I cannot speak of it. Literally.”

  That got his attention. He turned back to me with his brows furrowed. “He compelled you to secrecy?”

  I nodded. “If you want the truth, you have to follow directions. Can you trust me enough to do that?”

  He stared into my eyes for a moment, looking thoughtful. Then he nodded, putting the truck in reverse.

  “All right, Adira. Where to?”

  11

  “Koreatown?” Nick’s eyebrows rose as we drove west of the city along Wilshire Boulevard. “Odd place for Morgan to send you.”

  “At least this time I don’t have to walk.” My feet tingled as I gazed at the sidewalks I’d traveled last night. “That’s the building over there.”

  Nick looked where I pointed, and continued through the intersection. We’d have to find parking further on.

  “You…walked?”

  I nodded. “I couldn’t fight the compulsion long enough to take the train.”

  “That was stupid,” Nick muttered.

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “Not you,” he said. “Uncle John shouldn’t have sent you so far on foot. Especially after…”

  My brows furrowed. “After what?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Nick shook his head as he pulled into a parking lot a few blocks from the high-rise I’d pointed out. “Your feet must be killing you after all the running you’ve done, plus walking all this way. Are you going to be all right walking up the street?”

  I studied his face as he chose a parking spot and killed the engine. It was odd to see him without a scowl, sounding as though he actually cared about me. He returned my gaze and cocked his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  I got out and crossed the parking lot to the sidewalk. Nick quickly caught up with me, a solid presence at my back. The area looked different in the morning, lit by sunshine instead of neon signs in multiple languages. The street and sidewalk were both busier, too, as crowds of humans of every ethnic background began their days.

  We joined a crowd traveling up the street, then followed a splinter group to cross the street to the building I’d pointed out. I led Nick through the doors and across the lobby to the elevators, ignoring the woman at the main desk who offered to help us.

  “This just gets weirder and weirder,” Nick murmured as we rode the elevator to the fourth floor. “What time did you come here?”

  “After you left the studio.”

  “It would have been pretty late at night by the time you got here.”

  I nodded as the elevator door opened. The corridor was brightly lit now, and the door I’d knocked on last night was open, the sounds of many people moving and talking spilling out into the hallway. I stopped at the door and looked in.

  The suite was larger than it seemed from the hallway, and it was packed. Tables ran across the room from one wall to another with a barely big enough aisle around the edges. Nearly every table had an occupant, and almost all of them were on phones. Other humans bustled around constantly, handing off stacks of papers or giving direction to those talking on the phones. One of them, a young man with cool brown skin complemented by khaki’s and a sky-blue shirt, hurried over to us with a smile.

  “Hi, can I help you?” He juggled a stack of folded papers into one hand so he could offer us the other. Nick shook it, but I craned my head around the doorframe to see more of the suite. Surely the man I met last night was here somewhere.

  “Sorry, we’re looking for someone,” Nick said.

  “What’s the name? I’ll fetch them for you.”

  “Um.” Nick chuckled nervously. “About that…”

  I kept scanning the room, not listening to Nick’s explanation and the young man’s response. So many humans everywhere. The man I’d given the flash drive to had had a presence about him, the kind of person people look up to. But I didn’t see him among any of the leaders in the room.

  “Who was here last night?” I turned back to the two men, who looked at me in surprise. Nick held one of the folded papers from the young man’s stack—a brochure, maybe? I focused on the young man. “Well?”

  “About half of us stay after dinner,” he answered, his brows pulled together. “The election season is in full swing. We lock up and leave around nine. Were you two here last night?” He looked back at Nick. “I don’t remember seeing you.”

  “Did anyone stay later than nine, or come back?” Nick asked.

  “Not that I know of.” The man’s shoulders stiffened and his eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking?”

  “Sorry, we must have the wrong suite.” Nick smiled and took my arm, pulling me away from the door. “But thanks for the brochure.”

  We returned to the elevator, and as soon as the doors closed, I said, “That was the right suite. He just wasn’t there. Who would have after-hours access to a place like that?”

  Nick sighed. “Maybe a quarter of the people we saw in there. Campaign offices are home base for an army of volunteers and staff, not to mention the person actually running for office. Plus deliveries, building maintenance, security…”

  The elevator doors opened with a ding. We headed back outside and joined a throng of loud humans. Nick looked through the brochure while my mind raced. If the office was supposed to be locked and empty by nine, then how had Morgan known his contact would be here?

  “Whoever I met, Morgan must have communicated with him,” I said as we crossed the street. “There might be a trace of it on his computer.”

  “Good thinking.” Nick brandished the brochure. “After we visit Morgan’s office, we can see if this council candidate, William Bentley, knows anything.”

  “Council candidate?” My shoulders stiffened. “That’s who that campaign office was for?”

  Nick nodded as he folded the brochure and stuffed it in the pocket of his leather jacket. “Don’t worry. He won’t recognize you in that outfit.”

  That wasn’t what made my fists clench. Most humans stood by and watched as my p
eople were enslaved, but this man wanted to be part of the government body that controlled thousands of djinn lives, that had ordered my execution. I had to believe there was a special punishment in hell for people like that.

  Someone bumped me hard as they passed. I glimpsed a sleeve tattoo on a bare, muscled arm as I fell into Nick. He caught me, leaving a hand on my shoulder for a few steps while my instincts screamed something was wrong. The dread in my stomach built until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I looked over my shoulder. In the middle of the sidewalk, a man with sleeve tattoos stood facing the Korean barbecue restaurant we’d just passed, looking intently at me. The river of humans parted around him, although a few other men stood beyond him, turning back to see what had caught his attention. Some had tattoos like the one staring at me, others had various piercings. But they all had slanted eyes and their hair shaved to a buzz cut on one side.

  The men from the train.

  My heart started to pound as Tattoo Guy’s eyes narrowed. I hurriedly looked forward, keeping pace with Nick. I wore makeup and different clothes, not to mention a makeshift hijab covering my face. There was no way Tattoo Guy would recognize me.

  I forced myself not to look back for several yards despite the prickling on my neck that made me certain someone was watching. Nick strode beside me as we neared the parking lot, oblivious to my tension. If Tattoo Guy and his men were following us, we couldn’t go to the truck. They’d be able to corner us between the cars of the lot. I had to know if my instincts were right, or just overreacting.

  With a deep breath, I peeked over my shoulder.

  Tattoo Guy and his men stalked behind us, less than ten feet away. His eyes flashed, and he gestured to his men, who lengthened their strides.

  “What are you looking at?” Nick asked. He followed my gaze.

  “Trouble,” I said. “Run!”

  I grabbed his arm and broke into a run, pulling him with me. A shout went up behind me as Tattoo Guy ordered his men after us. We dashed past the parking lot to the next block, dodging startled pedestrians. I pulled Nick around a corner and kept running without looking back.