Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Margo Bond Collins

  Oh, crap, Aerie thought. Possessed or not, he’d kill her. She tried to stuff the demon down before it could get her into more trouble but it slapped her will aside. “Be still, child, and let me handle this.”

  Aerie raised a hand and pointed at Charles, watching the flames chase each other toward her fingertips. “I hope you’re happy. You finally dragged her into this mess.”

  “Mess? What are you…” He didn’t look frightened at all. If anything, he seemed to recognize. “Aerie, tell me you didn’t.”

  She couldn’t force her own words to emerge. Shaking her head, she held up her palms, unable to warn him to stay away.

  He pinched his lips together. “Tell me you didn’t go after that amulet.”

  The demon flared at the sound of his reprimand. “Big surprise, Charlie. She did what you couldn’t do.”

  “Aerie,” Pop said, holding out his hand. “Give it to me. Now.”

  Choking back a sob, Aerie tugged its chain.

  It was stuck. She pulled her collar forward and looked down her shirt. The amulet gripped her skin. When she tugged the chain, the amulet kept contact with her flesh. When she pulled, the skin pulled with it.

  “I can’t.” Her voice trembled. “I can’t get it off.”

  “Then show me, sweetheart.” His gentle tone was uncommonly kind.

  Sudden tears tipped over the edges of her lashes. They hissed and sizzled away into impotent steam. She undid another button and tugged her blouse open, revealing it. It lay, flat to her chest, reflecting the glare from the flames that coated her hand. A sick green light seeped out around the stone.

  The demonic burn surged through her.

  “You can’t fight both of us, Charles. But you knew that. Time to learn who is the powerful and who is the thief.” The demon consumed Aerie in a tornado of fire. It made her rush toward Charles, fully aware and knowing what would happen next.

  Aerie would make herself an orphan.

  Hands outstretched, she went for his throat. Just as the demon reached its breaking point, just before she could grab him, break him, snap his wretched neck, she slammed into a wall of damp pearlescent vapor.

  The vapor slowed her, trapped her, as if she’d run into a wall of gelatin. She heard Greysen’s muffled voice as he wrapped her in the constraints of Old Magic. She couldn’t breathe. The edges of her vision tingled into pinkish-white haze and her legs folded.

  Charles stared at her, his own face carved in severe lines. He didn’t even more to catch her.

  Greysen murmured in a far-away voice.

  Then nothing.

  7

  She woke in her room. It was daytime. She couldn’t move.

  Greysen sat near the window, reading a red leather journal. Yikes. This was bad. If Greysen was up here, then the shop was closed. A closed shop didn’t make money.

  And Pop wouldn’t ever let that happen if it could be avoided. If Greysen was here, it was because he was guarding her. He’d sworn to be her protector the day he crossed over and she found him, wandering in town, lost in a strange world. When Grey took up his duty, he was immoveable.

  “Ah,” he said, a smile tilting his mouth. “Awake at last.”

  Her arms, her legs—even her head—her entire body was dead weight. She could feel the bedspread beneath her, the intermitted sweeps of air from the oscillating fan on her dresser, but couldn’t as much as wiggle a finger. “Am I paralyzed?”

  “No. You’re physically bound, that’s all. The possession is of a different kind of power. It can’t counter my work.”

  Aerie studied the ceiling, turning a question over in her mind, knowing she had to ask, knowing she didn’t want to hear the answer. If anyone other than Greysen sat there, she’d never ask it. “I was going to kill him, wasn’t I?”

  “You seemed intent on throttling him but not killing, I think. You didn’t have that look about you.”

  “It wasn’t me.” She swallowed hard, her throat parched. She felt desiccated from the demon’s take-over. Even blinking hurt, like she had sandpaper eyelids. “All those things—it wasn’t me doing it.”

  “I know,” Charles said from the doorway. His voice sounded oddly thick.

  Aerie closed her eyes, feeling lower than—well, lower than a possessed girl who was magically tied up so she couldn’t destroy her family.

  She felt the bed move under his weight as he settled next to her and took her hand. “This must have been hard for you. But it’ll be okay.”

  Summoning the courage to look at him, she cracked her eyes. “You’re not mad?”

  “Oh, I’m furious. You had no business taking that file.” He squeezed her hand. “But I think I know why you did it.”

  “You do?” Aerie held her breath. Maybe he did have a heart, after all.

  “Of course, I do. You’re my kid and more like me than you’d like to admit. But put your fears to rest. I haven’t told Jels you took his first assignment.”

  Aerie would have sat bolt upright if she wasn’t constrained. “Jels? What does he have to do with anything?”

  “Jels is our new hire. But don’t worry. You still my repo girl.”

  Too angry to cry and bitterly convinced she couldn’t squeeze out the tears besides, she clamped down on her lower lip. Aerie looked toward Greysen, who seemed rather interested in his little book. No help there. “But—why him? He’s a jerk and he’s mean and he tried to kill me last week.”

  “A misunderstanding, I’m sure. But he’s exceedingly accurate in his transport spells and comes from a strong family. He’ll make a perfect Acquisitioner.” He squeezed her hand again before letting go. “Get some rest. I have some reading to do before Greysen releases you. We’re in for a long night.”

  She waited until Charles had retreated down the hall to his office, the door closing, before she spoke again. “You knew, didn’t you?”

  Greysen shut the book and sighed. “Some of it, yes.”

  She hated herself for the way her voice shook. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It wasn’t my place.”

  “I expect it from him.” She focused on the ceiling, the impotent rotations of the ceiling fan. “But you—I trust you.”

  “You should trust your father more.”

  “How can I? He doesn’t talk to me. He’s mad all the time and makes me feel like the world’s biggest screw up. You’re the only one here who cares about me.”

  “Oh, Aerie. That is not true.”

  “Isn’t it? And you know how bad Jels is. I told you every little thing about him. Couldn’t you have said something to make Pop change his mind?”

  “Charles? Change his mind?”

  Yeah. The idea was such a joke that even the stone-hearted Otherworlder saw the irony in it.

  “You know how I felt about Trevor.” She steeled her voice, unwilling to sully his memory with a weepy voice. “You know I hate doing what he makes me do.”

  “Look, child. Right now, we must deal with a larger problem. You are possessed. We must get that amulet off you before it does permanent damage. We can worry about the job later.”

  She closed her eyes again, listening to the dull distant roar that filled her head, the spirit temporarily held at bay. Aerie wasn’t convinced their priorities were sorted. Being passed over by her father for the biggest creep on the planet seemed like the most pressing problem to her.

  “Okay, we’ll start with the simplest approach, shall we?”

  Charles and Greysen faced each other over Aerie’s bed. Both wore determined faces, although Greysen certainly seemed more at ease. Having been raised in the ways of Old Magic, he wasn’t put off by daunting tasks.

  Charles, on the other hand, looked quite…apprehensive.

  Aerie didn’t spend much time worrying about that look. All she could think was that her behind was completely numb from lying on her back all day.

  The room was perfumed with the scents of pomegranate and rosemary. Charles had broken out his expensive candles for the
venture. The sharp smell of rosemary meant two things: he wasn’t sure he could pull something off and he was trying to cover up another smell, something else he didn’t want anyone to know he was using.

  Aerie didn’t call him on it. She knew he’d used rose oil the minute he uncapped the dauber bottle. No amount of rosemary could cover up that cloying smell.

  She’d cross her fingers and knock on wood if she could move.

  Charles tugged her collar open to reveal the amulet. It nestled against her chest, pulsing faintly. “We’ll just remove it while she’s constrained.”

  He reached forward slowly, dropping his hand in almost imperceptible increments. When the demon didn’t raise itself, he grabbed the amulet.

  Aerie screamed and arched her back off the bed, as far as the constraints would allow.

  “Drop it!” Greysen hissed. “It hurts her!”

  “It’s not her.” Charles glared at her. “It’s the demon that screams.”

  “I cannot abide it!” Greysen pulled Charles’ hand away. Aerie stopped screaming once he’d released the amulet. “Demon or no, that is Aerie who screamed. It cuts through me.”

  Charles twisted his lips from side to side as he reconsidered the situation. “Perhaps if I cut the chain first, then use a quick transport—”

  “It won’t work.” Greysen shook his head. “It has tied itself to her.”

  “Then we have no choice. Release her.” Charles stepped back, away from the bed. “We’ll negotiate.”

  Aerie coughed, her throat raw from screaming. “We’ll what?”

  “You’re being held hostage by a hostile entity. We’ll negotiate. Every demon wants something. We’ll find out what it is.”

  “A few hours ago, it wanted to fry you, Pop. Please don’t give it another chance.”

  “Greysen can set up a crystal barrier between us. Right?”

  “I—of course, I can,” he replied. “But something tells me negotiations will not be the wisest route.”

  “Apart from ripping it off her, I can’t imagine another way. Aerie, listen to me. Greysen is going to pull back his holding spell. Don’t panic. The demon won’t be able to touch me.”

  “But, Pop…”

  “Do you want this thing off or not?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay, then. On three. One, two, three.”

  Greysen simultaneously unconstrained Aerie and funneled his attentions toward building a wall between her and Charles. Any other time Aerie would whistle in admiration of the Otherlander’s ability to channel a power that few modern magic users could manipulate.

  Right now, she was distracted by the crowded sensation under her skin. Free of the constraints, the demon unfurled within her. The other entity stretched and kicked its way into the far corners of her body as if she were no more than a snowsuit.

  The flame coated her skin like the surface of a Sterno can but, so far, no eruption. Instant PMS, though. This was one bitchy demon.

  Aerie sat up, crossed her arms, and smirked. “Hiding behind someone else’s magic, are you? You haven’t changed. Still a coward.”

  Charles rolled his eyes. “I should have guessed. You’ve altered the amulet.”

  “I upgraded. If I had to be trapped in a chunk of metal, I wanted something pretty.”

  “Wait,” Greysen said. “Charles. You know this demon?”

  Charles held up a hand to silence him. “What do you want with the girl?”

  “Are you that dense? What wouldn’t I want with her?”

  “You’re bound.”

  Aerie’s lips twisted into a painful sneer, every inch of her flesh boiling with an unspeakable anger. “Because you are a thieving coward and—”

  “Silence.”

  Greysen shook his head. “Oh, dear gods. I cannot believe this.”

  “Now is not the time, Greysen.” Pop sounded pissy.

  Greysen stood, looking angrier than Aerie had ever seen him. “You bound this demon!”

  “Greysen.” Charles’ voice was ominous. Nobody argued with him when he used that tone.

  Aerie’s voice squeaked, unable to form actual words. A squeak, when she wanted to scream: You did this?

  Charles ignored them both. His eyes drilled into hers, like he wanted to see through to the demon itself. “What are your terms?”

  “My terms? There are none. I keep her and we are free of you. I only wish for corporeality long enough to strangle you with my own hands but we can’t always get what we want.” Aerie smirked, her eyes glowing blood-red.

  Charles glowered. “You will release the girl and submit to your master’s will.”

  “My master? Surely not you? You don’t possess my amulet. She does. She is my master.”

  “She wants to be released from your hold. Let her remove the amulet.”

  “She’ll die if she tries. She’ll die and you will suffer like you can never imagine.”

  “You really haven’t changed.”

  “Was I supposed to? Imagine. Send a girl to Hell and act surprised when she isn’t grateful.”

  “If you didn’t fight, it wouldn’t have been Hell.”

  “Oh, sure. Don’t fight. Just let the coward entrap me, that’s what I should have done.”

  Charles gestured to Greysen, who snapped his hands apart with a speed that made the air crackle. The invisible bindings returned, squelching the possessing power.

  In control of her voice once more, all Aerie could do is squeak out his name. “Pop!”

  “What is it, Aerie? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  “Who. Is. It?” Aerie punctuated each word with a huff of impatience.

  “Haven’t you guessed?” Charles picked up the scented candle and extinguished it. “It’s your damned mother.”

  8

  “So, you’re still possessed, I take it?” Cara looked over the tops of her sunglasses as Aerie flopped into the front seat and slammed the car door.

  She had to adjust the seatbelt four times before she could get it into a comfortable spot. Bad enough the amulet was hitched to her sternum, low enough to mess with her cleavage, but the charm Greysen made her wear pinched when she fastened the lap-belt.

  Stupid Sacral Chakras. She tugged at her jeans and resisted the urge to dig the rock out of the front of her pants. Inconvenient, but effective. The quartz charm activated her chakra and heightened her sense of self, enabling her to maintain a firm grip on the amulet’s influence.

  A temporary fix, he’d told her—which came as both a worry and a relief.

  Rolling down the window, she slapped at a tiny ember that singed her jeans. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You kind of have to. You’re on fire. And my dad thinks I was smoking in here.”

  “Look, Cara, I don’t elaborate if you have a bad hair day or something. Just try to ignore it.”

  “At least put these on.” Cara tugged off her shades and handed them to Aerie. “Those peepers are creepy.”

  “Ha.” Aerie slumped against the headrest and stuck her hand out the window, watching the flames ruffle under the passing wind.

  “And your dad?”

  “I’m not talking to him.”

  “What happened?”

  “This demon? He bound it. And, it’s my mother. And—get this—he hired Jels to replace Trevor. Jels! How about a nice slap in the face to go with everything else?”

  Cara slammed on the brakes and the car rocked to a stop. “Aer? Did you say…”

  “Yeah, Jels. Of all people! That condescending pig.”

  “Aer!” Cara slapped at her friend, mindless of the risk of getting burned. “Your mother?”

  Aerie shifted in her seat and pulled her hand back in. Her voice was tiny. “Yeah.”

  “Oh, my God. I cannot believe this.” Cara covered her mouth, eyes bright with sudden tears. “You got your mom back!”

  Aerie looked away, uncomfortable with Cara’s sentimental show. Her friend was always big into family—most Elemental fo
lk were, because they had to stick together in a world that largely resented them, just for being different. But it went deeper than banding together for protection, or valuing others because they shared the same traits and goals. Elemental folk still practiced clan society, a family of families.

  More than anything else, Aerie wanted to be as happy as Cara was. Tough state to achieve when the smell of brimstone never went away, not even after showering with Pop’s Old Spice body wash. “In case you didn’t notice, this sucks.”

  “It’s your mother.” Cara stubbornly clung to the bright side. “You have a chance to connect again.”

  “She’s a demon. This ain’t a Hallmark movie, Cara. A demon. From Hell. And she isn’t nice. I don’t have your mom taking over my body and making me do stuff like bake cookies or teach me how to ice skate. She wants to cause pain. She—” Aerie fell quiet, a smile sneaking its way across her mouth.

  Cara glanced nervously at her friend. “She what?”

  Aerie tilted her head and grinned. The orange flames in her eyes twinkled through the tinted lenses. “She should meet Jels.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Cara slid her car to the curb in front of Space Java and peered into the shop. “There he is.”

  Aerie pursed her lips and exhaled a tension-filled lungful before looking. “I don’t see him.”

  “Look through to the patio. He’s outside.”

  Jels and his buddies were sitting around a patio table, talking to a perky blond barista.

  Aerie set her teeth.

  Perky, she could handle. It was a caffeine store. But barista—just the title made her want to bite something in half. “Barista” implied some level of expertise. That girl couldn’t make an iced mocha latte if her life depended on it. Even her whipped cream skills were lacking.

  Not that Aerie cared. She didn’t like coffee. She simply had no tolerance for ineptitude. If you were going to do something, at least take the time to get good at doing it.

  The one thing she was good at was, apparently, flirting. Jels lounged against one of the metal tables, feet stretched out like he sprawled on a couch, and grinned as she tossed her ponytail for him.