Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Margo Bond Collins

  Ironic. The Otherlander was an Earth elemental. Greysen was literally the rock she built her strength upon—and Pop was worried about his feelings.

  Funny how everyone’s feelings mattered, except for hers.

  She left without another word, going to her room and turning on the radio, loud enough to block everything out. So many lies. So many secrets, all tumbling out as if someone tipped them out of a box. Pop, admitting he was responsible for everything—her mom being bound, this demon/almost-demon that had her tight in its nasty claws—

  She yanked her sweaty hair back from her face, pulling it up into a messy bun using the hair tie she always wore on her wrist. And that damn Finn kid. She couldn’t ignore the things he’d said, either.

  Especially not with the way he soothed the beast inside the amulet. There was a connection between him and the spirit.

  And now she was caught up in it. All of it, in a jumble of feelings and misgivings and misinformation and manipulation—blowing out a breath, she flopped on the bed and went into deep stare mode.

  Oh, well. At least she could get lost in her work. For once, it seemed like an actual good thing.

  12

  Aerie parked the van at the edge of the parking lot and pocketed the keys, surveying the location of the upcoming door-knock. This time, the address on the clipboard wasn’t a sun-dappled cottage, wafting fragrant wisps of cookies and Jean Nate after-bath splash.

  This area had more than its share of run-down, out-of-use buildings. That was the trouble with these old coal-mining towns. They were just dying off slowly, no new money or industry to revitalize it. Even in town, the residential blocks of rowhomes were an odd mix of expensive upkeep and rotted, decrepit failed tax sale. Cheaper to pay a yearly fine than rip down a house.

  In the early morning light, the warehouse looked like it ought to be condemned. Maybe it already had been. Windows shot out, graffiti-sprayed walls. Sirens wailing in the distance. She’d never even heard of this particular dump of a patch town, even though it was less than an hour from her house. The Google searches had nothing pleasant to say about it, either. It wasn’t a place Aerie would ever, ever, ever consider going.

  Until now, that was.

  Now, the chakra charm was in the ashtray of the van’s console. Now, she had a stream of hot energy that laced her blood with a tingle of aggression. Now, she went dancing in with rings on her fingers and Hell’s bells on her toes.

  Funny how having a demonic possession for back up boosted a girl’s confidence.

  She stuffed the contract into her inside pocket and left the clipboard in the van. For once, she wouldn’t hide behind her uniform or her name badge or her official-looking clipboard. Not a single drop of apprehension diluted the adrenaline that zinged through her veins. Today, she was the repo girl. There was collateral inside that building that was up for recovery. She was here for the wand and she was going to get it.

  She opened the console and rummaged through it before slamming it shut with a curse, belatedly remembering. The compass. Finn had broken it. Only the shattered pieces remained, stuffed in the glove box.

  So. She’d have to rely on herself to get the job done. No reason why that should be a problem.

  She got out of the van and sized up the dead-faced warehouse. With a nod, she circled her fingers and whispered. “Come, friend.”

  A twitch of movement near a rusted barrel caught her attention. The tiny dark shape scurried back and forth a moment before it skittered over her. In a moment, a rat was at her feet, looking calmly up at her, its nose twitching, whiskers trembling. Aerie picked it up in her cupped hands.

  “Hey there, Mickey. I got a job for you.” She gave it a scratch behind the ears and it rubbed its head against her fingertips. “Thanks. I appreciate the help. Reconfigure.”

  The rat’s fur glimmered with a foggy blue sheen, glowing with the spell she’d cast upon it. Just like the compass, except this one had a tail and maybe fleas.

  She set it down carefully. The rat sat up on its hind legs, lifting its nose, waiting.

  “Ready? Show me the wand.”

  The rat zipped off toward the building, like a blue streak. She ran to follow it.

  The door was rusted and hanging from its hinges at an angle, like a guillotine blade. She stooped to duck under it. The warehouse may have had several floors at some point. All that remained now where the steel beams that formed a skeleton inside. Grimy light streamed down through the dusty air. She paced quietly, watching for movement, surveilling the filthy space, keeping track of the rat. At the far end of the room, it disappeared behind a stack of crates.

  Crates that looked much too new and very much out of place in an abandoned warehouse.

  “Dammit,” she whispered. “Mickey! Where’s the repo?”

  Suddenly, a thump sounded, and a box fell off the top of the stack. A shout followed closely behind. “Ow! Fricking rat! What the hell!”

  A guy stumbled out backward from behind the stack, rubbing his bloodied hand. He looked up and saw her.

  “Attaboy, Mickey,” she said, and cracked her knuckles.

  He shouted a swear word at her and bolted. Guessed he knew who she was.

  “Oh, good. I love this part.” She grinned and chased after him.

  Rounding the boxes, she entered the main building at a dead run.

  His footsteps sounded off to the left and she followed them, step by silent step. A clank sounded overhead and she dodged, barely missing a massive chain that slid down with a noisy clatter. Would have crushed her.

  That wasn’t nice. So, ok. Not playing nice.

  No problem.

  No further footsteps gave away his location, but the occasional glint of blue rat kept her on track. A two by four sailed toward her. She raised her forearms to block it, her bones thumping from the impact.

  A flash of green light streaked overhead, loosening debris from above her and sending it down in a torrent. Wand shots, from behind that bin. She flattened herself against the wall, darting a glance. She circled her fingers aimed a shot in his direction. “Move!”

  The bin slid across the cement floor with a grinding squeal, revealing the man. He held up a large metal ring and aimed it toward her.

  Holy crap. A ring that big could knock a hole in the wall. “Over-compensating much?”

  He responded with a flash of his middle finger and shouted a spell of his own. Eyes wide, she pulled back around the corner.

  The impact shattered the wall opposite of her, sending fragments of cinderblock flying. She shielded her eyes, pelted with sharp stone that stung her hand, her face.

  Thirty seconds before that ring would saturate with enough power to cast again. She ran at him.

  He threw anything he could at her. Rocks. Boards. Metal chunks. Glass. She paused to pull a dagger-shaped shard out of her thigh and glowered in his direction.

  “Who throws glass at a girl?” She gritted her teeth and let the flames lick across her skin, sealing the wounds.

  He stared at her, eyes wide, before running through another doorway.

  She chased him, cornering him in a room that appeared to be a dead end.

  “Mr. Davis. You are in possession of a casting wand, classification W42, source unknown, purchased from Pathering’s nineteen months ago.” She fluffed her hair out with one hand, shaking loose bits of debris. “You stand in forfeit of aforementioned item. Surrender it now.”

  “Why should I?” He swung the great metal ring and tapped it with the wand, each tap ringing out like a tolling bell, loading it for another cast.

  She eyed it, warily using the demon-sight to gauge his progress. “Your contract states that use of the device to manipulate, coerce, deceive, or inflict harm against any living soul is strictly forbidden. Even if you hadn’t tried corralling those wizards last week, today would have been enough to nullify your contract.”

  “They weren’t wizards.” He spat to the side. Disgusting habit. “They were just a bunch of Elementa
ls.”

  Small town ignorance alive and well here in rural Pennsylvania, apparently. “Living souls, asshole. Prejudice doesn’t exempt you from your obligations.”

  “No. But if the contract is destroyed, I’m free and clear.”

  “Too bad for you it’s perfectly intact.”

  He snorted a mean laugh. “Not after I shred it.”

  She flexed her hands. “You can try.”

  Suddenly, she was yanked backwards, her arms grabbed by two men who suddenly appeared behind her, their grips like iron.

  “Why try?” Davis smirked and strutted a few paces in front of her. “I can just succeed.”

  She winced. Iron, for real. They wore mesh gloves, the iron links squashing her magic. She tried pulling free. Bastards were strong, too.

  “I was hoping they’d send the chick,” David continued. “That’s why I went to that shop in the first place. Great items, lame-ass management. I’m not afraid of a contract you can’t enforce.”

  “Can’t I?”

  “Not bound in iron, you can’t. And since you can’t repossess an item without the contract…” He strolled over to her, pointing the wand at her.

  Normally, she’d be flinching. No one stared a live wand in the face, not if they had any sense.

  Sense wasn’t something she was riding high upon at the moment.

  She saw him come toward her, and the other inside her watched, too. Aerie lowered her chin and strained to reach him.

  The two goons held fast and chortled like the goons they were.

  Davis lifted the wand and flicked open her jacket in a gesture that was both pushy and lewd. With a smile, he flicked open the other. “Now, now. What are we hiding, hmm? A contract, maybe? Something more, perhaps?”

  He drew closer. “Maybe I need to search you.”

  “Maybe,” she said, her voice low and gravelly. She curled her lips at him, baring her teeth. “Maybe you need to get real close.”

  He leered and stroked her neck with the wand. In this light, he looked like him. “Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

  “No,” she said. She tilted her head, reached inside, and flung opened the door between her and the amulet.

  The demon took over. Her brown eyes ignited into dancing spots of fiery red and her voice geared down deep and low. “It’s what I want.”

  Flames burst from her chest, spreading out like a whip crack along her arms. Startled, the men tried to back off. Aerie smiled and tucked her arms tight, trapping their hands. The heat built mercilessly as the hellfire roasted their iron mesh gauntlets white-hot. The smell of smoking flesh stung her nostrils.

  Their screams were like music to her ears.

  Using the screaming men for support, she jumped and kicked Davis square in the chest, knocking him backwards. She shook off the incapacitated goons who flopped to their knees, flailing their arms.

  Davis scrambled back and lifted the wand, aiming it through the center of the metal ring. He had nothing to lose, now. Desperation glinted in his eyes like moonlight on wet sand.

  She had nothing to lose, either. Perks of being filled by demonic ley power. She stalked toward him, eyes glowing, teeth showing.

  The curse he aimed at her was a deadly one. The moment he cast it, the moment she heard the words, she knew it would be a true shot.

  Time slowed. The shimmering orb sped toward her. Deep down she knew she should have been very afraid.

  Instead, she laughed. The demon laughed for her. She closed her eyes and spread out her arms, awaiting the blow, welcoming it.

  The orb crashed into her chest, spreading out like an oil spill. It should have burned a hole right through her.

  It didn’t.

  The amulet soaked the terrible magic right up like a sponge.

  Smiling, she opened her eyes to find a cornered wizard, standing agape, his eyes round and white-ringed.

  “I repo’d that wand, pal. It can’t hurt its owner. You, on the other hand…don’t you know that whatever you do comes back threefold?”

  His face paled and went slack with fear. A dark stain spread down his pant leg. The amulet sputtered three bright spears of sickly orange light, three blasts of amplified wand power. An attack like that would disintegrate him and leave him in a heap of ashes.

  She pulled the shot at the last minute, sending them off-course into an elliptical orbit around him, trapping him. They swarmed like miniature suns around him, raging with a heat that could destroy him with the slightest touch.

  Stalking toward him, she chambered her right fist and reached toward him with the left. A curl of fingers was all it took to summon back the orange orbs, and one by one they drifted toward her open palm, settling onto her skin and soaking in. When the last one had been reclaimed, she shot out her right, landing a palm strike on his forehead that flung him to the ground.

  Standing over him, she ringed her fingers and called the wand. It flew to her hand like an obedient canary and she stuck it in her back pocket. Didn’t even bother hiding it in a Holding Plane. There wasn’t anybody around she had to hide it from.

  For several long moments, she stood over him, fighting to quell the demon, fighting to stuff it back down and bolt the door, fighting the urge to kick Davis’ head in.

  What he would have done to her, with his friends holding her down, watching, laughing, as he took his time humiliating her and using her and loving it because she was helpless? His face looked like him again. He looked just like Jels, and she wanted to stomp his throat flat and just end it, once and for all—

  Swallowing hard, she pushed the power down. She pulled its claws out of her deepest parts and stuffed it back into the amulet. There was a lot she wanted to do to him but if she did it, it would be her choice. It would be her price to pay. She wasn’t a pawn. She made it this long without committing that foulest deed and no one, not a demon, not even her own mother, would force her hand.

  It took everything she hard to turn and start walking away. Then again, it always did.

  She paused and spun on her heel, looking back at the rogue wizard who lay gasping on the ground.

  “I almost forgot something, Davis.” Walking back over to him, she squatted down. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled something out.

  A receipt.

  “Thank you for choosing Pathering’s.” She leaned over, grabbed his collar, and stuffed the receipt in his mouth. Baring her teeth, she got nose to nose with him. “We appreciate your patronage.”

  She released him with a rough shove and a look of disgust before striding back through the warehouse, a still-glowing rat trailing along behind.

  Back at the shop, she released the rat in the back yard, hoping it would have a happier life in Vanguard than in its previous slum of a neighborhood. Vanguard had to work for someone, even if that someone wasn’t human.

  That made her pause. The non-humans and inhumanly-behaving seemed to do very well here. Maybe it was just her.

  Glancing down at her hands, she spied the thin sheen of blue flames that shimmered across her skin. Had to be her, definitely.

  Going around to the front, she opened the door so hard she almost broke the hinges. The bells chimed violently in protest. Greysen was resetting the clocks and turned to who was assaulting the shop. His forehead wrinkled in alarm. “Aerie? The chakra charm—”

  “It’s under control.” Her voice still carried a layer of other voices, a muted version of the demonic host-scream she’d suffered in the past. “Or at least it’s as good as it’s gonna get.”

  She saw his hand twitch. He was consciously refraining from going Elemental on her possessed ass. Hands up in a sign of submission, she put extra effort into making her voice sound as normal as possible. “I’m just worked up, that’s all. Where’s Pop? I salvaged his collateral.”

  “He’s upstairs but—”

  “Thanks.” She didn’t stick around to hear what came after the but. Probably just more of he’s in that mood again. She frowned. Tough shit for Pop and
his moods. All she wanted right now was to turn in the wand and go lock herself in her room and have a good catatonic stare, just like she always did whenever she thought too much. Hopefully, the bedspread wouldn’t get singed again.

  She walked in without knocking. Yanking the wand out of her back pocket, she set it on the desk. “It’s done.”

  “Doesn’t look like it.”

  “What are you talking about? It’s right there, in front of you.”

  He turned toward her, arms crossed, wearing one of his classic you-lose-things faces. “I’m talking about the amulet. Obviously, you still have it on.”

  She drew a deep breath, feeling the thermostat inside start to crank. Control, control, gotta keep control.

  She dug the van’s keys out of her pocket and hung them on the rack. “Uh, because it’s fricken stuck to me.”

  “I’m starting to think you don’t want that amulet off,” Pop said.

  “Why would you even suggest that?”

  “Look at you. You’re benefitting from it, obviously. Are you going to stand there and tell me your magic isn’t stronger?”

  “It’s demonic.”

  “Not for you. That’s the amulet. Look. I raised you to know everything you could about artifacts. And what is the first thing I taught you?”

  “An artifact is a magical tool.”

  “Exactly. A tool. Something to be used. And it’s plain to see you have no problem using it.”

  “I don’t need a tool—”

  “I know you don’t need it. But admit it. You like having it. It’s an easy out. It gives you the balls you don’t have on your own.”

  More than hellfire scorched the sides of her face. “I am not listening to any more of this—”

  “Of course, you’re not. You know, I’d say the worst thing about this is that you’re being subjected to the wretched mess that had been your mother—”

  “Shut up about her! I’m so tired of hearing about her. It’s non-stop. She was awful. She was nagging. She was the queen bitch of the planet. She left us and I’m tired of hearing about how awful she was!”