Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Margo Bond Collins

  But he did. “Why are they chasing us?” he yelled.

  I didn’t answer, focusing on breathing and pumping my legs as fast as they would go. Hot adrenaline flooded my body, lending me speed as I flew down the sidewalk. Pounding footsteps and angry shouts still followed us. We had to break line of sight and find a place to hide.

  A door opened ahead as a man walked outside, the pungent smells of Asian cooking spilling out onto the street. I cut behind him into the restaurant, Nick hot on my heels, nearly tripping over tables and chairs as I ran headlong for the back. We sprinted through the kitchen, startling a pair of short dark-haired women before pushing through the back door to a narrow alley.

  My hands fisted as my blood sparked with energy. I was getting really tired of running and hiding in alleys.

  A busy boulevard lay beyond the back street, and we raced toward it, weaving around trash cans and stacked crates. Behind us, female voices yelled in harsh nasal tones, then a slam and more pounding, echoing footsteps. I glanced back, my pace slowing slightly. Tattoo Guy and his men were still right behind us.

  “Come on!” Nick grabbed my hand and pulled me along with him.

  I lengthened my stride to keep up in our mad dash for safety. As we ran, I realized I was hot, far hotter than our flight or the morning sun on my dark clothes should have made me. Something was wrong. Fever bloomed along my skin, and a white-hot fire raged to my core. It filled me as we ran until even my mind was incandescent.

  My vision blurred and I stumbled, flinging a hand out to recover my balance. Energy rushed out of me, and the fire in my blood abated a little. A crash sounded nearby. Nick tugged on my hand.

  “Adira!” he shouted, as if he’d said my name a few times already. His touch distracted me from the overwhelming heat, his voice bringing sudden clarity to my thoughts.

  I’d felt this heat before. Nothing was wrong with me. I glanced back to see a mess of fallen crates and boxes slowing our pursuers’ progress, and my lips stretched in a fierce grin. Something was finally going right.

  My magic was rising.

  “Let’s go!” Nick pulled my hand again, and we resumed running. Tattoo Guy was already pushing through the boxes, and would quickly recover lost ground if we didn’t take advantage of it.

  We hit the boulevard and turned up the street, still sprinting to put as much distance between us and the Koreatown gang as possible. Pedestrians jumped out of our way with startled gasps, some yelling at us as we passed. By the time we made it to the corner of the next intersection, shouts went up behind us as our pursuers finally broke through the obstacle my magic had made for them. We dashed across the street with seconds to spare before the light changed.

  On the opposite corner, we paused to catch our breath and looked back. Tattoo Guy led his men into the street at a gallop, glaring at us.

  “Seriously?” Nick breathed. He grabbed my hand and we took off up the street. Behind us, cars screeched to a halt and blared their horns, the cacophony harmonizing with the shouts of angry humans, and punctuated by our own pounding footsteps. Our pursuers’ footsteps echoed back to us, matching the frantic beat of our hearts.

  Power sang in my blood as we raced around another corner. I remembered how it had felt to wield my magic against Morgan’s attacker, how I had moved with more speed and strength. As we ran, I tried to imagine the heat in my blood translating into physical power. Soon I was the one tugging on Nick’s hand, my magic blending with adrenaline to accelerate my flight. I wished I could do more, but I didn’t know how to channel my magic or what to do with it. And I couldn’t let Nick discover I could access my power.

  “Have to stop,” Nick panted. “I can’t keep this up.”

  “A little further,” I said, guiding us down a slightly less populated street.

  A few of the gang members appeared ahead of us where they’d run up a different block, easily recognizable with one side of their hair shaved off. I skidded to a halt, Nick stumbling next to me. Before I could do anything, they’d spotted us, and started running our way. We turned around to see Tattoo Guy and few others charging toward us.

  Nearby a narrow track led between two businesses. With the gang on both sides, it was our only option of escape. We darted down the alleyway, followed the bend around one of the buildings, and stumbled to a stop, surrounded by brick and cement walls.

  It was a dead end, an empty and forgotten storage space for the buildings around it. Nick hurried to a back door and jiggled the knob, but it wouldn’t open. Before we could try to dash back out to the street, Tattoo Guy and his men flooded into the tiny back space, spreading out to block the only way out. Several pulled out guns and aimed them at us, one of them gesturing Nick away from the door. He sidestepped to rejoin me in the middle of the space, his arm bumping mine.

  Tattoo Guy glared at us, at me, a menacing smile twisting his face. “Gotcha,” he said.

  We were trapped.

  Panting, Nick and I faced the gang side by side. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Nick’s head moving slightly as he scanned the men around us, trying to watch them all at once. But I only had eyes for the leader. Tattoo Guy stared right back, as if he could see through my hijab.

  “Clearly, we got off on the wrong foot,” Nick said, breaking the tense silence. “But I’m sure we can work something out. Without guns.”

  Tattoo Guy laughed. His men chuckled, grinning and rolling their eyes at each other. Their laughter echoed off the brick and cement that surrounded us.

  “No need to negotiate. We own you now,” Tattoo Guy said with his cruel smile. His beady eyes slid back to me. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to own a djinn.”

  12

  My heart hammered. Tattoo Guy had recognized me, though I couldn’t guess how. Lust shone in his eyes, making my throat tighten. I couldn’t tell if he desired my body or my power, or both.

  But it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t getting either. I glared at him, the heat of my power burning away my fear. The magic surged under my skin, begging to be used.

  “Who wouldn’t want to own a djinn?” Nick chuckled. “But you’ve got us pegged wrong, man. I’m barely keeping up with rent, and my friend here is a struggling actress. She gets in character like this for—”

  “Shut him up,” Tattoo Guy ordered.

  The gangster closest to Nick drove a solid fist in his stomach, and Nick doubled over with a groan. I had to do something, but what? Even power as inexorable as lava and quick as lightning would be useless if I couldn’t figure out how to channel it.

  Tattoo Guy stalked toward me. “I know exactly who she is. No mask can hide the fire in those eyes.”

  “I told you, she’s in character,” Nick coughed.

  The gangster grabbed his leather jacket in one hand and punched him across the jaw with the other. Then again, and again, meaty thuds and groans resounding in the cramped space. Even when he wasn’t sure he could trust me, Nick still tried to protect me. I owed it to him to do the same.

  “Stop it,” I said. My voice rang out louder than I expected, some of my brimming magic accidentally escaping into my words and making everyone pause.

  Tattoo Guy recovered first and stepped close to me, well inside my personal boundaries, but I didn’t back away. I glared at him as he pulled the front of my makeshift hijab away from my face. Fresh air cooled my cheeks and neck. The gang leader’s smile widened.

  “I’m glad my bomb didn’t kill you.”

  I narrowed my eyes. His bomb? The explosion at the police station had been meant for me?

  “At first I was pissed when I saw the police hauling you away on the news,” he continued. “I wanted to hunt you down and kill you myself. But then I thought I’d send you a little present in jail. It would have been an appropriate payback for the way you disrespected me.”

  He grabbed my chin and pulled me close enough I could see the pores in his skin, my reflection in his coal-black eyes. “But then somehow you survived, and escaped, a
nd came running right back to me. You must like being punished.”

  “You must be the stupidest human I’ve ever met,” I sneered.

  His face froze, as if he couldn’t believe my nerve. I could barely believe it, but talking distracted him, bought me time. And I’d already blurted out what I was thinking. Might as well say it all.

  “That bomb was never going to kill me,” I continued. “Because you arrogant fool put it in the holding cells with all the other human miscreants, while I was in the djinn cell on the other side of the building. And when it exploded, it cracked the outer wall of my cell. The council was going to execute me this morning, but you made my escape possible.”

  “And now you’re going to pay for how you humiliated me.” He bit off his words through clenched teeth, anger making one cheek twitch. “You are mine, djinn.”

  “As long as you suck a breath mint, swine,” I spat.

  He dropped my chin and slapped me, hard enough to send me spinning to the ground. Stars flashed in my eyes, while behind me came a scuffle and another meaty thud. When my vision cleared, I saw two wet, red drops on the cement between my hands. I licked my lips and tasted blood.

  Magic burned in my bones. What I would do to these arrogant, insignificant human scum if I just knew how to shape and control my power. It had helped me fight off Morgan’s attacker, but there were too many men surrounding us. I doubted my magic would even the odds that much, and no one could know I was able to access my magic. So what else could I do?

  “Get up,” the gang leader hissed.

  I glanced sideways at Nick. He was on his knees like me now, two men holding him down and a third pressing a knife to his throat. Inexplicably, I thought of Sebastian Maguire, the first human scum Nick had tried to protect me from. The only reason anyone knew his name was because my magic wove an illusion in his music, tricking listeners into thinking what they heard was far greater than Sebastian’s actual talent.

  If I couldn’t fight them, maybe I could trick them instead.

  Tattoo Guy yanked my hair, a cry escaping my lips as he dragged me to my feet. I forced myself to ignore the pain, concentrate on the magic. Energy shifted inside me as I focused.

  My captor hauled me against him, my back to his chest. He snaked an arm around my waist. “You’re mine, slave.”

  “Boss?” said one of the men. “You hear that?”

  The unmistakable undulating pitch of police sirens sounded in the distance, getting louder as they approached.

  Tattoo Guy growled. “Let’s go.”

  “What about him?” One of the gang gestured at Nick. “If she’s the prize, we should get rid of him.”

  I redoubled my focus, going limp in Tattoo Guy’s grip so I could concentrate more fully on the magic. Power swirled, and more police sirens wailed, this time much closer.

  The men shifted and murmured, their tension palpable. My captor’s grip loosened. It was the best advantage I was going to get.

  I slammed my elbow into his gut and whipped around to follow up with the butt of my hand to his nose, my arm straight and the full power of my shoulder behind the blow. Just like Sebastian, Tattoo Guy’s nose shattered. He cried out and stumbled back.

  I turned to help Nick escape the swine holding him just in time to see him body slam one of the men against the nearest brick wall. The other two men were already on the ground, moaning. The rest of the gang broke and ran as the magical police sirens grew impossibly loud.

  “Come on,” Nick shouted.

  We sprinted down the track back to the street. Nick turned right, away from the police sirens. That was fine with me, although I felt a bit guilty at tricking him as well as the gang. We had just started to trust each other, and odd as it was to trust a human, he was my best chance at clearing my name, not to mention earning my freedom. And now that I’d tasted my magic again, I desperately wanted my freedom. I didn’t need him to realize the slave cuffs weren’t working properly and lose the ground we’d gained.

  I followed Nick’s lead for two blocks, letting the sirens fade and die as we gained distance. He turned another corner, and I realized he was heading back to the truck. Except for the one man Nick had body slammed, every gang member was still conscious and capable of coming after us, and I had humiliated the leader—again. Once they realized there were no cops in the area, they could easily cut us off.

  Nick started down another street that would take us closer to where this whole mess began.

  “Nick, wait,” I called. “This way.”

  I jogged the opposite way, toward more familiar landmarks. If I hadn’t been worried about the Koreatown gang hunting us down again, I would have laughed at the turn of events that had me retracing my steps from last night.

  This morning, there was no alluring music calling patrons to the club. It lay silent on the corner as we approached, like a party-goer sleeping through the day. I slipped behind the building and hurried to the back door that the dancers used when they needed fresh air and at the end of the night to go home.

  All but one of them, anyway.

  Nick right behind me, I pulled open the heavy door and dashed inside. The door closed behind us, and the sudden dimness blinded me. Nick bumped into me, suffering the same problem. I reached back and grabbed his leather jacket, pulling him toward what I was pretty sure was a privacy curtain. I parted the hanging silk and we collapsed on a pile of cushions, panting, our shoulders leaning together for support.

  “So I have a couple questions,” Nick said loudly.

  “Quiet.” My whisper was harsh as I sucked in air. “We don’t want the owner to know we’re here.”

  “First,” Nick whispered without missing a beat. “What did you do to piss off a West L.A. gang? And second, where are we now? Because it looks a lot like a women’s changing room and I am very uncomfortable with that.”

  I leaned my head back against the wall, my heart finally slowing to its normal rate. “I may or may not have walked in on the middle of something last night on my way back to the studio.”

  Nick snorted. “If you’re this much trouble in one day, it’s a miracle Uncle John kept you for so long.”

  I glared daggers at him, suddenly regretting that I’d felt so concerned for him less than half an hour ago. “I blame you humans,” I said savagely. “Morgan is the one who compelled me to walk this way so late at night instead of being man enough to run his own errands. Those men are the ones using violence and intimidation to control those around them. Your greed, your lust for power—that’s where all this trouble comes from. I have done nothing wrong!”

  Nick just stared at me, and I realized my voice had risen to a shout. I looked away and took a deep, cleansing breath. Then another, and another, willing the anger and the tension to drain out of me. He was my only ally. I couldn’t afford to lose him before our investigation even got anywhere.

  “I didn’t mean you, specifically,” I murmured. “You want justice for your uncle’s death. That is a pure motive.”

  “That is the worst apology I’ve ever heard.” Then he sighed. “I guess I owe you an apology, too. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Nick relaxed deeper into the cushions, his leg brushing mine. I tried very hard not to think about how much I liked it. I relaxed again too, settling lower into the cushions so I could lay my head back on one. Exhaustion pulled at me, tempted me to drift into blissful nothing for a few hours. I couldn’t keep running around like this for much longer.

  “You’re wrong, by the way.”

  I opened my eyes. “What?”

  “Most humans are good, Adira. A few bad apples doesn’t mean the whole harvest is bad.”

  “Perhaps.” I turned my head to look at him, and found him looking down at me, his face only a few inches from mine. “But if I bite into one rotten apple, why would I want to try another one?”

  “Because apples are delicious.” His warm breath fluttered against my cheek, sparking every nerve in my body and bringing me wide awake. I was su
ddenly painfully aware of every detail: the dimness of the room, the soft embrace of the cushions, the warmth where our shoulders and thighs met. How much a part of me wondered what he’d do next.

  The silk curtain flashed open, the rings rattling on the rod, and we both instantly sat up. A woman dressed in layers of gauzy stood looking down at us.

  “Adira?” said an incredulous voice. A voice I knew and loved.

  “Yasmina,” I said with a smile.

  “You get away from your master and sneak into the dressing room of the club with a man…to talk about apples?”

  My cheeks warmed. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

  Yasmina moved away, and I stood as she flicked on a light, illuminating the mirrored vanities of the dressing room. Her gaze fell on Nick as he stood, taking in the black leather jacket and his long brown hair slashing his forehead and the hint of pink in his cheeks, and her eyes widened.

  “A very attractive man,” she said to me. “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

  “It’s nothing.” I rushed forward to hug her. She made a little noise of discomfort, and I pulled back to look in her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s nothing,” she parroted. But the makeup was a little heavier on the right side of her face, and she held a hand to her ribs.

  “Look who has mysterious bruises now,” I said. “Did someone hurt you? Are you okay?”

  “Everything’s fine, Adira. I was practicing a new routine and missed a few steps. Nothing to worry about.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked me over. “Why are you dressed like that?”

  “So no one will recognize me.”

  She cocked her head, and it hit me. Yasmina didn’t know I was on the run. She didn’t know my master had been murdered and I had been charged with the crime. It was refreshing, in a way. I had spent hours thinking everyone around me knew my secret and was only moments away from calling the police. Except now I had to tell her what was going on.