Rebels and Realms: A Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Heather Marie Adkins

  Her expression blanked. “Sit. I want coffee. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  The living room was a blend of cultures and colors. Bright golds, reds, deep blues and purples, splashes of orange and a vibrant green were dotted around the room. The couch was covered in a silk Indian print in the deep blues and bright greens. Lampshades were covered in orange polka dots; a deep red leather chair sat snug in a corner. Books lined one wall; artwork completely covered another wall. Another Indian print, cotton this time, hung across the large picture window, allowing a filtered light to come through.

  Elliott sat in the chair in the corner. It was big enough for him, deep enough, and definitely cushioned well. This was a man’s chair. He stretched his legs out in front of him and yawned. His body was sore from where Malachi had been ripped from him; his super-healing wasn’t as fast as it had been. He shifted again, easing his back against the leather, and shut his eyes. Phoenix would come back, and they’d talk. Maybe have sex. He could go for that.

  The room was warm and fragrant, and most of all, it felt safe. Elliott let himself relax deeper into the chair.

  Phee curled into the couch and stared at Elliott, fast asleep. His face did not soften in sleep like so many others; rather, it grew harder, as if even in sleep he had to be on guard. She knew what that felt like. She didn’t think she’d had a restful night until she clawed her way out of the Compound. No wonder he’d conked out the way he did.

  He was strong. The electricity flickering the way it did in the restaurant proved that. As far as she could tell, he couldn’t control it yet, or he’d forgotten he could; but he would. She’d see to that. If, that is, he agreed to stay, to work on his specialties, and to become a part of her team.

  She sipped her coffee and took the time to mourn Alexandria. She’d made herself a promise, while standing in front of the store that day. She couldn’t run the store the way Sol could, but she could take people in. Help them heal. Help them learn. It was something she’d already started, but the need had solidified when she realized Alexandria was gone. That force for good had left them, and there was nothing to be done about it.

  Borgati’s changelings, for wont of a better word, were easily spotted once you knew what you were looking for. Which worked both for and against her; she’d find others easily, and just as easily lose them to Borgati’s minions. But then, that was a vampire for you. They did so enjoy having minions. Too bad there were many people so willing to be a part of the mystique, that they rarely realized the consequences…until it was far too late.

  Phee sighed as she let her gaze wander the length of Elliott. He was tall, lean to the point of being almost too thin. His dark hair hadn’t seen a pair of scissors in years; it was pulled back into a braid at the nape of his neck. She remembered too well her time with him, getting to know him, and that last night where she’d finally broken down and they’d made love. And though that had been years ago, there was something about him, the way he had touched her, the sound of her name in his mouth, that she had looked for in every man she met since then. No one had touched her the way he had.

  She knew Elliott was deeply scarred, both mentally and physically. She’d plunged more than one needle into his veins filled with a serum designed to speed up his healing. Not quite Nano-technology, and not quite chemistry, the mixture was something she’d been working on for years for, as she had thought, to heal soldiers on the front lines faster.

  She should have known it had all been a fantasy, and the soldiers that Borgati wanted healed were not people like her parents, fighting and dying in Afghanistan. Rather, they were people he’d tinkered with. People like her, and Ruby, and Elliott.

  He was building an army of super-humans, in order to change them into vampires. The fact that he was everywhere was chilling. Billboards touted his free medical clinics. Commercials promised scholarships to the best and brightest of students. He did good work, she knew that. Borgati Pharma had come up with some brilliant drug therapies that showed great promise in the treatment of illnesses as a result of aging, not to mention cancer, Alzheimer’s, Multiple Sclerosis.

  Elliott’s mention of children infuriated her. Of course he’d start when they were young.

  “You’re frowning.”

  Elliott’s deep voice startled her. She glanced at him, caught the intent look in his eyes, and sniffed. “I’m remembering why Borgati had to start with children. I wonder if he did some in-utero tampering, too. Anyway.” She waved a hand. “Have a nice nap?”

  “I wasn’t asleep. I was trying to figure out where to go next. Kind of exhilarating, having my whole life ahead of me.” But his voice was tense and curt.

  Phee nodded. “I understand. I’m still trying to figure it out. I run.”

  “What?”

  “I run. I get anxious, and I run. I’m also working on a business, but I’m not there yet. If you want, we could go running together. Maybe spar at the gym.”

  His blue eyes darkened. “Not sure I want to get into a boxing ring with anyone. The last person didn’t make it out alive. So why spar?”

  “I need a team. An army, even.” Phee just watched him over the rim of her coffee cup. “Long term, I want two things. One, to save others like us who manage to escape. Two, to destroy Borgati’s operation. For both of those things, I need a team behind me. I’m not so stupid as to believe I can do it myself. But there are serious issues with both things.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as, how to provide counseling for so many of us. The four I have here are already stretching my capacity, both as counselor and space-wise. Frankly, I’m not sure what adding you to the mix will do. But there’s no one else to do this work. Plus, I need to get my business off the ground, move beyond what I can do in my kitchen.” She grimaced and sipped, the warmth of the coffee soothing the knot in her throat.

  At his questioning glance, she elaborated. “I create medical-grade perfume oils. Some have an extra kick.”

  Respect crossed his face. “Magic?”

  She shrugged. “I guess you could call me a witch. I will want a storefront, at some point, but prior to that I need workspace.

  “Hm. What about destroying Borgati’s operation? What’s the serious issue with that?”

  “Aside from it not being time? Borgati Pharma is a legitimate business. It helps millions of people, world-wide. It’s one of the biggest publicly traded pharmaceutical companies in the world. If we take down the whole thing, it could crash the stock market. Don’t laugh,” she warned as his lips twitched.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it. How old are you?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Old enough to not want to tell you.” She kept her gaze on him. “Did you celebrate your birthday while you were inside?”

  “He cured me of cancer,” Elliott blurted out. “Then he treated me like family, almost. Almost. Until he didn’t.” Elliott shuddered and drew in on himself. “I don’t remember celebrating birthdays. We celebrated New Year’s Eve, but then you probably remember that.”

  “How many New Year’s Eves did you celebrate, Elliott?” She knew how many she’d celebrated, inside the Compound. It still made her cringe. “How many? Ten? Twenty?”

  “Thirty,” he blurted out. “God. I’m fifty.”

  “You don’t look a day over twenty-eight.” She grinned. He didn’t smile in return. “Sorry. I was there for forty years, but I started older than you. I’m almost sixty.”

  “Why? I don’t get it.”

  “Why do we look so young? I’m not sure. Vanity? Maybe. Those drug cocktails we mixed up were something else. Plus he had some nifty DNA and stem cell trickery going. I know that prolonging life, and abolishing things like Alzheimer’s and dementia, were high on his list.”

  “He was looking to strengthen humankind, in order to make more vampires. Alexandria said he was acting in a very human way. We’re not vampires, are we?”

  “No. Not vampires. There is a reaction, however, that your body will go through. It has
to do with not getting injections anymore.”

  “I haven’t had an injection in years. The last bout was when Malachi was forced on me. No, I take that back. The last one was…” he lifted his head and his gaze speared her heart. “It was when they made me forget you.”

  Phee caught her breath at the force of his pain. “I know. Still, he gave you something, Malachi did. You gave him blood, right? He undoubtedly gave you something in exchange. Demons, when you get right down to it, tend to be fair when they’re enslaved. You fed him. He gave back to you.”

  “I set him free. Had him ripped out of me.” The words were stark. They seemed to bounce and echo in the colorful room, turning everything just a slight shade darker. Or maybe that was a cloud going over the sun.

  “And Alexandria is gone. I know. I’m sorry that you didn’t have more guidance. I wasn’t sure if I should show my face there, and when it was apparent Ruby wasn’t going to leave you alone, I had to let you flounder. I am sorry. I couldn’t risk too much interaction with Ruby.”

  Elliott stared at her. She could see his brain working busily, absorbing everything she’d already told him. Figuring everything out. When his features blanked, she straightened her spine.

  “So it’s your fault.” His gaze flitted around the room, as if looking to escape. “You not being there for me…that’s why Alexandria isn’t there any more. Right?”

  “Peace.” She lifted her hand, and he fell back against the chair. “It was impossible for me to help you, because Ruby was there.”

  He sent her a bewildered look. “I don’t understand. What does Ruby have to do with anything?”

  “I’ve told you all I can.” Phee kept the knowledge locked inside her. When the time came, Ruby would be the key to unlocking their freedom from Borgati. But that was years from now, if she’d read the crystal correctly. She sipped at her now-cold coffee.

  “There are some things I can explain, and some I can’t. All I can say of Ruby is, we can’t be friends yet. There will come a time when we will brush against each other in a random fashion. And another time when she’ll seek me out. But that is all in the future. She’s still a child.”

  Elliott stood, loomed over her. Damn, but he was tall. “Let’s run.” His words sounded choppy and his breathing was rapid. She could sense his heart racing.

  Phee narrowed her eyes. “Are you feeling all right? You’re looking a bit iffy.”

  “Claustrophobia, maybe? Or a reaction to all the color? That must come from living in such a black, gray, and white world,” he muttered. He paced to the front door and back to her again, running his hands through his hair. “Can we just go?”

  She stood. “I need to change. Do you have running shoes? And do you mind if we change neighborhoods? It’s a bit far, but I prefer to run in Santa Monica.”

  He shut his eyes as if the thought pained him. “I remember Santa Monica. I went on a Ferris wheel there, and Dad bought me some sticky, airy candy. Cotton candy. I was seven or eight.” Elliott rubbed his head once more and glared at her. “I haven’t thought about that in years.”

  “Why would you think on happier times, if you believed you had no chance of ever getting back to those happier times? If you have the stuff for running, you probably want to change. The half bath is just down the hall. My bedroom is upstairs, so I’ll be right back.”

  Phee escaped to her sanctuary, the room she felt the most herself in, and changed clothes. She wondered if she’d be sharing her bed with Elliott again, and if she did, would she lose her heart to him, and this time, permanently?

  It was too soon. She knew it. He was too damaged to want anyone close to him. But she had to try. From the moment she locked eyes with him in the ballroom all those years ago, she’d known he was the one. He did it for her. He sparked a fire in her that hadn’t ever gone out. The time they spent together after that had been a bonus, memories that she clung to when life was particularly difficult.

  But sex in Borgati’s world was twisted, dangerous, unhealthy. She couldn’t put herself in danger, not without knowing Elliott’s headspin. He wasn’t the same man she’d left, so long ago.

  She stripped and dressed in her running gear, tucking into her outfit the silver knives that had saved her life more than once, aware of the anticipation that raced through her blood. Elliott needed time. She herself had needed almost two years before she could have sex that resembled something normal people had.

  And yet, would it be so bad? To go back to a twisted version of happy-ever-after? At the thought of the pain, chills chased themselves up and down her body. She bent to lace her running shoes. Sometimes, going backward was the absolute wrong thing to do. But on the other hand, when she looked back…what she and Elliott had shared, all those years ago, hadn’t been twisted. It had been surprisingly sweet.

  Which undoubtedly is why her heart sped up at the thought of bedding Elliott Jones.

  5

  Elliott discovered the apartment had an attached, enclosed garage. It was there that Phoenix took him the next day after breakfast.

  The floor was laid with wrestling mats; soundproofing lined the walls, and one wall held floor to ceiling cabinets. Other than that, the room was empty.

  He raised his eyebrows and turned to Phoenix, who stood watching him, her arms folded over her bare stomach.

  “Okay, I’m here. Now what?”

  “Now, we figure out what you’re made of. I know you’re fast, that you are a conduit for electricity, and that you heal rapidly. What I want to know is, what else can you do?”

  He stared at her. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do. You’ve probably just been doing it for so long that you’ve forgotten it’s something you can do.” Still, she tapped a finger against her lips. “The party, where we first saw each other. Before Borgati got shot. You were wearing these fancy sunglasses. What were those for, do you remember?”

  He closed his eyes and pulled up the memory. It came, sticky with old rage. “I was told they were to help me find concealed weapons. They helped me find silver, yes. But when I took them off, I realized I could sense guns better without them than with them.”

  “How? What changed? What was different?”

  “I…” Elliott shut his eyes and thought back. “I’m not sure. But the minute I took the glasses off, I could smell them.” His eyes flew open. “Once I smelled them, I could pick out who was carrying and what the firepower was, overall.”

  She nodded. “What about the silver? Could you still sense the silver, even without the glasses?”

  “Yes. I mean, the guns had a sharper, more urgent scent than the silver, but yeah, I could still tell who was carrying.” The talent had stood him in good stead during the fights with opponents who didn’t always play by the rules. He cocked his head to one side. “You’re carrying. One knife at the small of your back, and one on a synthetic holster on the inside of your right thigh. Only two knives today, whereas when we ran last night, you had four on you.”

  It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “So you have a heightened sense of smell that goes beyond just weapons. Interesting. What else? Is there anything else like that, anything big or small, that you can think of?”

  He shrugged. “No. Didn’t ever realize that scent was one of mine until just now.”

  “Hm. Well.” She gestured. “This is a safe place. It’s warded as best I know how. It’s a good place to let off steam. When we get too many new people, we can bed them down here. Sleeping bags, clothing, pillows are in the cabinets against that wall.”

  The door behind her opened and people surged in. For a moment, panic sent his heart rate soaring until he realized these were relative youngsters. At a glance, he knew he could take all of them. None were armed.

  Phoenix had turned to them, spoke in a low voice. Elliott watched as she touched, soothed, coaxed a smile out of the four who had barged in. High empathic skills.

  She stood to one side and gestured. “Shawn and Tigger, this is Elliott Jon
es.” When the others murmured to each other, she sighed.

  “Yes, the Elliott Jones.” She turned to him. “You made quite a name for yourself with those underground fights.”

  He nodded. Shawn and Tigger were both slight and fair-haired. Their eyes still held a haunted light, as if they had been in the dark with the boogeyman for far too long. Still, they had survived and left.

  Phoenix continued. “Shawn and Tigger are getting married soon. Tigger is a strong empath who works well with animals, and has been offered a job at a wildlife refuge up in northern Washington state. He’s also an omni-shifter.” She turned to the other man.

  “Shawn is a whiz with numbers, and is a licensed accountant. He can also pick any lock that exists with nothing more than his mind. They are packing up to go, and we’ll have a goodbye party tonight for them.”

  Elliott nodded his hellos. Shawn returned his nod. Tigger hid his face in Shawn’s shoulder.

  “This is Gavin.” She waved her hand at the third man. “He’s relatively new here.” Phee’s dark eyes flickered to Elliott. He caught a trace of uncertainty from her.

  Gavin would bear watching. Elliott inhaled, but didn’t scent anything off. Suppressing a frown, he nodded. Gavin just folded his arms across his chest and flexed.

  Huh. One of those. Elliott had crushed more than one of his kind in the arena. He had no wish to bring bloodshed to Phee, but if Gavin pushed it, Elliott wouldn’t hold back. All or nothing. Life or death. It was the way he had been made, after all.

  “What are Gavin’s talents?”

  Phee sent him a measured look. “He’s not sure. He hasn’t been here long, and had some recovery to do before we could delve into his mind.”

  Gavin started, and a shadow crossed his face. “You never said anything about mind reading.”

  “Didn’t I?” Phee sent him a sweet smile. “And there’s one more of our merry band. Her name is Marie. Come on, sweetie.”

  Elliott stared. The figure of a female seemed to come into full color before his eyes. Marie had dark hair and didn’t stand taller than five feet, same as Phoenix, but there the resemblance ended.