Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Margo Bond Collins

  While he made the room infinitely darker, I took a seat in the middle of the circle, crossed my legs, and pulled the scrying bowl closer. “Crap, forgot the paper.”

  Dane retrieved it from the counter where I’d left it, without being asked. “Here you go. Should I just stand back there?”

  He motioned to the far corner of the room.

  I nodded. “Wherever you’re comfortable. The couch even. Just don’t cross the circle. It smarts.”

  When he was settled, I started.

  First, I lit the candles and the room soon became bathed in golden light. Next was the incense. A light, floral scent wafted by and I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes. When I felt relaxed and centered, I opened them slowly. Breathing with care, in through my nose, out through my mouth.

  I centered my soul, anchoring it within the circle. When I felt the circle of power snap closed around me, I knew it was time. Lifting the paper, I repeated the words written for me, the same phrase, four times over.

  * * *

  Let the water show the location of Elena.

  Let the water show the location of Elena.

  Let the water show the location of Elena.

  Let the water show the location of Elena.

  Blessed be.

  * * *

  Contrary to popular belief, a spell didn’t have to rhyme or flow poetically off the tongue. It didn’t have to sound like something out of a pagan manual or a medieval movie. In the end, only your intentions matter, even spoken plainly.

  I don’t remember setting the paper down.

  Instead, my entire focus pulled to the bowl. I couldn’t look away if I’d tried. The blackness of the water seemed to be moving, slowly, then a bit faster. Just when I thought the water was surely going to slosh over the sides, the water stopped abruptly and appeared smooth as glass.

  An image started to take shape, but it was blurry, out of focus, and I had no idea what I was looking at. I leaned closer, then closer still. Shapeless forms danced on the water’s surface. A flash of red. Then a black void surrounded by a ring of fire.

  None of that was helpful, so I tried harder.

  My eyes strained to pick up the tiniest disturbance in the water. A flicker, a fleeting shape. It pulled me ever closer, until I was bent in two, my nose almost touching the water’s edge.

  Then, without warning, the water shot up and out of the bowl, exploding all over me, the floor and the room at large. The sheer volume of the splash was in no way possible, but there it was. Dripping off the ceiling fan even.

  “What. The. Actual. Fuck.” I looked to Dane, my hair clinging to my face.

  Rendered temporarily mute, he stared back at me.

  “Dane,” I called out.

  He blinked, shook his head and stood, hands on his hips. “Well this is going to take a lot of towels.”

  I giggled uncomfortably. Then, turned to blow out the candles before realizing there was no need. Everything was water-logged and not a single flame was left flickering.

  I stood, pushed my hair back and pulled my wet t-shirt away from my body.

  Dane’s eyes widened; he looked away. But I wasn’t even in that kind of place right then. I was still in what-the-fuck land.

  “I take it that wasn’t supposed to happen?” He looked bewildered as he surveyed the damage.

  I swung my head slowly. “Definitely not. I’ve scryed a hundred times and nothing remotely like that has ever happened.”

  Dane opened his mouth and closed it again.

  Surveying the room, I sighed. “I’ll get the towels.”

  I left him standing there confused and grabbed as many towels as I could carry from the hall linen closet. Back in the living room I tossed a few to Dane and he caught them without comment. That was progress, I guess.

  It took nearly a half-hour, but we got the worst of it all soaked up. While we mopped and wrung the towels in the kitchen sink, Dane pressed me for what I’d seen in the bowl before it had all blown to hell.

  “I don’t really know. There wasn’t anything concrete and what I did see didn’t feel current. Like, it was a portent of things to come.” As I said it, goosebumps rose over my flesh.

  He considered that for a moment and frowned.

  I wasn’t sure what to say, so I waited for him to work through whatever was pinging around in that brain of his.

  “Do you know any other spells?” he asked after some time. “Can we try something else?”

  “Yeah, one. But I’m not even trying it. I don’t know Elena, so I’d be missing the personal connection needed. And then there’s the nasty backlash—permanently tattooing everyone I care about at once. So, no, this was our only shot.”

  “There has to be something else we can do.” He pleaded with his eyes.

  He could puppy-dog pout all he wanted, it wouldn’t sway me one bit.

  “Nothing that I’m aware of. At any rate, I’m pretty sure all this—” I swept my arms around the room, “was the result of interference. Maybe we poked the wrong beast today.” I shrugged.

  If someone knew what we were trying to do, and wanted to keep us from doing it, well then, they were doing a bang-up job of it. The question was, was it the Shillers or someone else?

  Dane plopped on the sofa, but stood quickly when he realized his ass was getting wet. “Right. I’ll go change then.”

  I sighed and carried the towels to his washer. I was used to magical backlash, but not of the domestic variety. I was pretty sure all his towels were going to come out pink or something, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

  Once the laundry was started and I noticed that Dane still hadn’t come out of his room, I decided I needed to clean myself up as well. That, and maybe make a phone call to the best authority on witchy shit I had, my own fairy godmother, Cass.

  She picked up on the second ring.

  “How’s it going, baby girl.” Her voice was bubbly and light. And just what I needed to sooth the tension from my head.

  “I’ve been better.” My lower lip trembled and I pinched myself on the leg to chase that feelings crap away.

  Cass hesitated and lowered her voice. “Oh, no. What’s wrong?”

  I had to wonder if she was with my mother, and I all but asked her that. “It’s between us, right?”

  “Of course,” she said. “Like you have to ask.”

  “Well, Clive sent me on a job…” I started.

  “Oh, does your mother know?” Cass’s voice picked up a few decibels and I cringed.

  “No, and I want to keep it that way.” My voice was firmer, stronger then.

  “Enough said. Go on,” she coaxed.

  I drew in a deep breath and gave her the down and dirty details. When I’d finished, she mumbled a response that I didn’t quite catch.

  “Huh?” I stood up and paced the small area beside Dane’s guest bed.

  “Sorry, that was me thinking.” Cass said, then continued. “It does sound like interference. I’ve never heard of that happening either. Are you in danger?”

  “Probably, but I’ve got it covered.” I hoped I sounded surer of that than I felt.

  “Quinn,” her voice took on a motherly tone. “I really think you should talk to your mother. She might have better advice, even if she’ll probably tell you to quit monkeying around and bring your tail back home.”

  She had a point. While Cass had brushed danger a time or two, my fang-dropping mother actively sought that shit out. Every day. Compared to her, I was a school kid safely ensconced on a playground.

  “Nope, no way.” My lips formed a tight line. “Any advice you can give? A spell perhaps, something to help me locate the missing girl?”

  “I’m sorry sweetie, I don’t have anything useful. Call your mom, okay?”

  “Thanks anyway, I’ll see you soon. Hopefully.” I ended the call before she could give me another heaping-helping of mom-guilt.

  I had enough on my plate without dealing with the fearless Claire too. I was up to my eyeballs i
n supernatural freakage, adding Mom to the mix would likely make my head explode.

  9

  It was a beautiful day. Fifty degrees, cloudless, with very little wind. I could think of nothing I’d rather do than go to have a spa day. But absent of cash or time, a run would have to do.

  Not that I enjoyed running. Because I didn’t.

  I wasn’t some sort of endorphin-seeking health nut, but I did acknowledge it’s benefits with toning the body and strengthening the cardiovascular system. Two big things if you plan on making a career of fighting creatures of the night. So, I ran whenever I could, despite hating most every minute of it.

  Putting one foot in front of the other, I set out heading east of Dane’s house. With each footfall, my muscles loosened up and my mind cleared another degree. I passed cute little houses with toys strewn about the front lawn, a sleek condo community, and rounded back to the downtown area where quaint shops and window shoppers were out full force.

  I nodded to one older gentleman as he tipped his hat in my direction, then turned off Main street to a quieter residential area. Older homes, but ones that had been cared for, lined both sides of the street. Bradford pear trees separated the houses from the road in lieu of sidewalks. I didn’t mind; I ran on asphalt better. It gave me more room to roam you could say.

  A split second before the car hit me, time slowed.

  I caught the movement in the reflection of my phone’s screen, which I’d held up to switch to a more blood-pumping playlist. There was no time to react and my instincts kicked in.

  Taking the impact was a given. The only thing I could do was try to control the damage. A bubble—tough, yet flexible, like a toy bouncy-ball filled with foam—cocooned around my body right as the car hit me.

  Up and over the roof I went. The sky and trees swirled around me in an acid-worthy haze as my bubble spun. And spun. A soundless scream came out of my open mouth.

  The landing, in the soft grass near the curb, was still a jolt as I bounced once, then twice, but at least nothing felt broken. I glanced up as the bubble popped, just in time to see the rear end of a late model black car speeding away. My eyes might have been playing tricks on me, but I was sure that I’d seen a shock of red hair behind the wheel.

  That wasn’t important right then, making sure I was able to walk away in one piece was. I stood, slowly, testing out my limbs and looking for obvious things—like a bone poking out of my leg or some shit—before doing what my dad always said when I hurt myself as a child… I walked it off.

  Thinking about my Dad almost brought a smile to my face. Almost. But then I remembered all the shit that came later and any feelings I might have once had for him I jammed down, locking them in the depths of my blackened heart. Family, huh?

  I looked at my surroundings, then pulled up the GPS on my phone. My run was so over, and I wanted the quickest route back to Dane’s place. I read the directions twice and set off at a good pace, considering minutes earlier I’d done a bit of car surfing.

  While I ran, I thought.

  People get hit my cars all the time, right? And it’s usually because of some dumb reason like a texting driver or one too many happy hour cocktails. Neither of those would explain someone going that fast and then accelerating on a quiet residential road. It had to be on purpose, right?

  If someone had just tried to kill me, that would make three attempts on my life in as many days. The bar, the menacing car, and now a hit-and-run. If I was going for some sort of record, I’d rather it be for something less risky, like how many hotdogs I could eat at once, or how long I could Shakira a hula-hoop.

  I didn’t want to be reconsidering my chosen line of work before I’d even finished my first job, so I distracted myself by upping my game. I made quick time getting back to the relative safety of Dane’s abode. I knew the house would be empty when I got back and I wanted to get myself cleaned up before he returned from running errands.

  I was trying to build the reputation of a closer in the supe world, not one of a damsel that always needs rescuing. I might even put that on my business cards – no damsels allowed. Catchy, no?

  I chuckled to myself and turned onto Dane’s road. My head stayed on a swivel until I reached his front door. Letting myself in quickly, I shut the door behind me and leaned against it. I drew in several deep, steadying breaths and waited for my legs to stop feeling like cooked spaghetti.

  Dane wasn’t back yet, so after a quick shower I changed into yoga pants and an oversized Black Crows tee, and made my way back towards the kitchen in search of a little caffeinate warmth.

  I was in luck, it seemed Dane had put the thing on a timer before he’d left and the jolt of java was already waiting patiently for me.

  I grabbed the coffee pot, a mug and a coaster, and carried them into the dining room to settle in for a trip down the internet rabbit-hole. I wondered what Dane was up to… he’d been gone by the time I woke up a couple of hours earlier.

  My mind wandered a bit with little else to distract me, I’m ashamed to say.

  Apparently, Dane did wicked things to my naughty bits even when he wasn’t around. That was not good. And I wasn’t going to be that girl, the one who thought with her clit. So, I allowed myself one more moment to relive our close encounters and then I intended to brick that shit up somewhere deep inside of me.

  The glass carafe hissed and cracked, then exploded in my hand.

  “Shit,” I avoided the worst of the splash by stepping back, but that crap went everywhere. All over the table full of papers, splattered across the walls as well as my clothes, and puddled on the floor. “Fuck.”

  I spun around, looking for something to sop up the worst of the mess before it ruined the hardwood floors. Nothing, not a table runner, not a placemat. I ran into the kitchen and the paper towel holder was empty too. “Shit. Double shit.”

  I slid down the hallway in my socks and snatched open the linen closet. The towels hadn’t been restocked yet, and in my panic I didn’t even think of running to the dryer. Instead, I reached for a stack of old ratty towels sticking out from the top shelf.

  Giving them a good tug, they came down, but not alone. Something squarish, but not too heavy, hit me in the head, then landed on my big toe with a muffled thump. I unsquished my eyes and looked down, the coffee fiasco forgotten momentarily.

  Well son of a monkey-loving python. That little toad-humper.

  The super-important package my vampire boss sent me to retrieve? You know, the one I’d lost?

  I’d found it.

  10

  I heard Dane come in hours later, after the sun had drifted below the horizon. I waited in the darkness of his hallway and watched him cross into the kitchen. He plucked a banana from the fruit basket and opened it up, one hand upon the counter and his back to me.

  Anger coiled in my gut like a viper, I’d been duped and I couldn’t help but wonder what else he’d lied about. Maybe Elena wasn’t even a real person. Maybe he’d just used her plight as a ruse to get close to me. If that was the case, was I the end game, or was he after someone connected to me? My mother, Clive, the royal Fae family?

  It was time to find out. Silently, I approached him from behind until my body pressed up against his. He pulled in a deep breath and leaned into me. I giggled like a vapid slut just getting warmed up. Yeah, I disgusted myself.

  I slid one hand up and over his bicep, then around to his throat. My other snaked around to his junk. He growled, low and sultry. But when he felt the tip of my very sharp blade poke through the fabric of his pants, he tensed, stopped breathing.

  “I want you to think very carefully before you answer my next question, or I’ll slice up your banana, got it?”

  He nodded, slowly. Gulped, then tried to turn around.

  I pressed the blade a little further, sure I’d drawn at least a little bit of blood. He hissed and put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. What do you want to know?”

  “Are you setting me up?” My voice was cool
and even, which was usually an indicator that Quinn was about to lose her shit.

  “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

  With the hand of mine that wasn’t holding a knife to his nether-bits, I lifted the coffee-stained towel from the counter and let it drop to the floor, revealing the only package I was interested in from there on out.

  “Then what. The fuck. Is this?” I stepped away from Dane and circled around to the other side of the kitchen island so he’d have to look me in the eye if he was going to lie to me.

  That, and I wasn’t entirely in control of myself at the moment. Hours of stewing will do that to a girl, especially one who has a tendency to do deadly things when she’s pissed and her magic gets a little squirrelly.

  Dane’s eyes widened and he stared at the package like it might explode. Or bite him. If he’d denied knowing the package was there, I’d have been inclined to believe him. But he didn’t.

  Finally, he spoke. “I can explain. Please, let me explain.”

  He came around and stood before me, his hands out and his eyes sincere. Every ounce of my being said fuck him or liars get left, save one—that part of me wanted to believe him. Wanted to stay right where I was. That little bit of me out-voted the rest.

  But I damn sure wasn’t letting that little bitch talk me into putting down the knife. That I fondled while pretending to make up my mind. I couldn’t let him think he’d won me over that quickly, after all.

  “Please,” Dane stepped up to me, pulled my knife-wielding hand up to his heart and held it there. “If you want to filet me when I’m done, I’ll even sharpen the blade for you first.”

  I had to give him credit for two things. First, he gave very convincing sincere-face, and second, he could have tried to use his persuasion against me but he didn’t. Not that he could have… I’d had enough foresight to toss up a few barriers before he’d arrived back home. But it was the action of non-action that mattered.