Wild Women Collection

by Rachel Sullivan

  I set my mother’s report on the manila envelope and pushed an empty chair under the table. “So.” I let the word draw out as the wheels in my mind turned. Only Hunters knew we weren’t human, knew what Shawna had in common with Heather and the harpies’ mother, and hated us for it. It was the Hunters who’d called Marcus during our second date and prompted him to leave me alone at the hotel. It was the Hunters who’d stormed the mermaids’ island. They were the ones who’d closed the twenty-year-old missing Wilds cases. Every piece of evidence led me to believe that they were behind the Wild abductions. Which meant I’d left Washington in search of my sister who may have been in the next town over from my home. “War or no war, I’m going to get my sister.” The fire of purpose raged within me, burning away the bits of sadness still clinging to my mind after seeing my mother’s report. “And if she’s at the Washington Hunter complex, that’s where I’ll be going.” I raised my eyebrows. “Luckily, I have someone who knows his way around the place.”

  Marcus stood and made his way to my side. “I’d be happy to service you,” he said with a wink.

  “Oh, well, there’ll be no shortage of that,” I said. If I approached this the way I drew a skip out of hiding, the Hunters would never see it coming. “But also, I need your help with Hunter information.” I winked back. “Like, show me their hand-to-hand combat training and draw me pictures of their complex and their property and where their security cameras are. If they were to hold a huldra there, where would they keep her?”

  “I’ll have to see if they’ve changed anything around. But under the big building where they conduct check-ins is a basement with cells. Unless they’ve built a new holding area since I left, I assume that’s where they’d keep huldra.”

  “You’ll find out for me, get up-to-date layouts of the complex?” I asked, finally feeling more than a spark of hope.

  “I will.” Marcus caught me off-guard as he swooped his arms behind my back and pulled me to him. “You’re so sexy when you’re in bounty hunter mode.”

  The bittersweet scent of excitement mixed with a heavy dose of lust swirled between our embrace. Only moments ago I’d wanted Marcus to fill my mind with information I could use to take down my foes. Now my mind blurred with yearning for him to fill me in another way. I didn’t know how much more I could handle without tossing him onto the bed and seeing if sex with a non-human was as mind blowing as I imagined. “Had he been holding back that night we were together because he thought I was human? Is that why he didn’t want to have sex?”

  I didn’t realize I’d voiced my thoughts until he answered, “Yes,” in a gravely whisper. His eyes darkened. He licked his lips. “Would you have held back? If we’d had sex. Tried to keep a handle on your physical strength?”

  I could only nod. If I opened my mouth it’d be to tangle my tongue with his.

  “Yeah, holding back like that isn’t something I’m great at.” He cupped my face, and for a second something lived and breathed in the lack of space between our bodies, an energy so alive, so fierce, so real. Marcus closed his eyes. The mere suggestion caused me to close my own. He pressed his lips to mine, ran his hands down to my hips and pulled me into him.

  I found the curve of his lower back and grabbed at it. I wanted his smooth skin under my touch. I bunched his shirt, fabric in each hand, and pulled. The shirt tore. Marcus chuckled while his tongue connected to mine. I shoved him backwards and slammed him against the wood-paneled wall. He let out a grunt from the force, but quickly went to work unbuttoning my jeans.

  “No holding back?” he asked through kisses near my ear and down my neck.

  “Not even a little bit.” I tilted my head and arched my spine.

  “Good.” He picked me up like I weighed ten pounds, and tossed me onto the bed. The muscles on his bare chest moved like a perfectly choreographed dance. I hoped he’d perform that dance on top of me.

  In an instant he was above me, tearing my cami from my body.

  “I can’t wait to see your wild side,” he said in quick breaths as he kissed my breasts.

  “You’re not afraid that I’ll set off your inner red flags?” I asked, referring to his earlier response to seeing bark crawl across my knuckles. I purposely didn’t use the “Hunter” word.

  “I hope you do set me off,” he said in a deep, throaty voice. “Let’s see how well I can channel my adrenaline into pleasure. You game?”

  I laughed and jumped out from underneath him—as much as I enjoyed that view—to turn him in place and straddle his waist. With my right hand I held his wrists together. Viny branches extended from my fingertips and wrapped around his wrists like my own organic handcuffs.

  He gave a heavy laugh. “That’s amazing. I take this is a yes?”

  I didn’t speak. I only smiled and moved down his body as my branches extended, pinning his wrists to the headboard above his head. I circled my tongue around his nipples and traced his abs, determined to return the favor he’d given me after our first date. A shiver ran through his body and I smiled at the reaction. His back arched for more and I retracted my vines. The moment Marcus was free he rolled me over onto my stomach and ran his fingers down my spine. His gentle lips found the bark patch at the small of my back and I melted inside. Whatever flags my huldra was setting off in his Hunter, they weren’t rage-filled.

  Nineteen

  I paced the sidewalk outside my motel room, squinting from the early afternoon sunlight. I exhaled a white puff of breath into the crisp air. Maids wore jackets as they pushed their cleaning carts.

  My coterie listened on speakerphone from our common house in Washington as I explained the new developments, pausing each time a human came within earshot.

  After I explained Marcus’s and my belief that the Hunters were behind the recent abductions as well as those perpetrated twenty years ago, because why else would they try to cover it up, Aunt Renee asked, “Is there a chance Naomi is still alive?” It was odd hearing my aunt refer to my mother by name. I had been four when my mother disappeared. My aunts had gone through all the proper channels—reported her missing with the police, contacted the Hunters—but nothing came of their efforts. And with four little girls to raise, they gave up, believing that the succubi galere had taken territorial revenge on her for sharing affections with a human male they’d already claimed as their own. Nothing could be done short of my aunts getting their own revenge, which would be difficult with the added responsibility of a little orphan huldra to raise.

  Knowing Shawna was somewhere at the Hunters’ compound killed me inside. I couldn’t imagine how much it’d break me to think she was dead…forever gone. I supposed that’s why I had wanted to become an investigator so badly—to make sure what had happened to my mother would never happen to another woman. But it had, hadn’t it? And to Wilds no less.

  A dog barked in the background and Aunt Abigale’s promises of a treat if it’d quiet down like a good girl followed the sound.

  “Since when did we get a dog?” I asked.

  “Oh, your aunt took her in from Shawna’s rescue center. Poor thing missed Shawna so badly that she wasn’t eating. The people at the rescue center reached out to Abigale and asked if maybe she could take the dog for a while. They thought it’d be worth a try to see if the little thing would eat if it lived in Shawna’s surroundings, with her scent,” Aunt Patricia responded.

  “Is it working?” I asked, eager to see Shawna’s face when she found out our coterie had taken in a dog. I wondered if huldra had ever owned pets in the history of Wilds. Dogs and tree-jumping don’t mix well. We really were becoming civilized, housing domesticated animals. If anything, I would have thought we’d own cats, seeing as some of the stories surrounding Freyja included a cat-drawn chariot. And cats climb trees.

  “She’s on her way to being fat and happy,” Olivia yelled a little too loudly into their side of the connection.

  I laughed and pulled the phone from my face so it wasn’t blaring into my ear. “Can you send me
a picture?” Knowing there was a little animal out there who loved Shawna so much that it stopped eating when Shawna left made me love the thing. I suspected I wasn't the only one. It also made me deeply sad, and determined.

  “But Faline, is there a chance Naomi is alive? That she’s at a Hunter’s complex, like Shawna?” Aunt Renee asked again. Anxiety laced her words.

  “There is,” I said. If Marcus was right, if the Hunters had a calculated plan with the disappearances, then my sliver of hope seemed justified. My heart sped and my lips tugged my cheeks into a full-face smile. Just the idea that I’d possibly meet the woman who occupied my dreams, but too few of my memories, made me want to go storm every single Hunter complex this evening with nothing more than what I had on me—a new switchblade and a pair of boots. But I had to be smart about this. No one group of Wilds, not even the mermaids, had the power to take on a whole complex of trained Hunters on their own turf. And my coterie certainly couldn’t overtake the Washington complex, which was first on my list. If we wanted this to work, the different groups of Wilds had to come together to study the Washington complex grounds, discuss a plan of action, and train by tapping into their natural abilities. I had witnessed the abilities of the succubi as well as that of the mermaids. Now I needed to figure out what battle tactics the harpies and rusalki had. Olivia and I had a lot of research to do.

  “So prepare the common house for guests. I haven’t made contact with the rusalki to know if they’ve lost someone, but if each group, other than the mermaids, has lost a member in the last six months, and twenty years ago they also lost at least one member to the Hunters, I’m crossing my fingers that they’ll all be on board to visit the beautiful state of Washington for a meeting like none other.”

  “When should we expect them?” Aunt Patricia asked. “And what about food? Do they eat different things than we eat?”

  The other day Gabrielle had mentioned saving the rusalki for last due to their difficult nature and their lack of residence. I didn’t know much about the Wild group outside of human legends that spoke of ghostly pale women who lived underground and in dark lakes, and who could kill with a single snip of their birch scissors.

  “If Gabrielle and I can catch a flight to Maine tonight, and the rusalki aren’t too hard to find or too hard to convince, I’d say to expect us in four days. Hopefully sooner.” As I broke down the logistics to my sisters and aunts, my personal way of thinking took a step back and my bounty hunter-trained mind stepped forward. There was also a possibility that the Hunters hadn’t let their captured Wilds live.

  But I couldn’t think about that right now. “Succubi don’t seem to have a certain type of food they eat,” I said to get the conversation moving so that I could pay the harpies a visit and head off to meet the rusalki. “Mermaids prefer sea food, and they aren’t against eating it raw, so the fresher the better. The fish markets in Seattle or Anacortes would probably be your best bet. I have no idea what harpies eat, but I’ll ask today. And seeing as I’ve never met a rusalka, and I’m not even sure they’ll agree to joining us. I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”

  “All right, hun. Well you stay safe and thanks for the update,” Aunt Patricia said.

  I considered requesting to be taken off of speakerphone so I could ask about Aunt Abigale’s emotional state. When I left Washington she’d been inconsolable, as any mother would be if her child were abducted. But I thought better of it. It’d hurt too much either way and right now I needed to harness my hope, not my hurt.

  I ended the call and shot Gabrielle a quick text asking if I should meet up with the harpies at their place. She responded with a yes, so I headed into my room to gather my things.

  I’d left the curtains pulled to let Marcus sleep. I walked into the dark room and gently shut the door behind me. The sound of his rhythmic breathing filled the small space and I found myself watching him. He had that just-worked-out swollen look. He lay on his stomach, his pillow pressed against the wooden headboard secured to the wall. The flower-covered comforter sat in a heap on the floor near the bottom corner of the bed. Light green sheets wrapped around his body, inches below his tan arms. His Hunter’s tattoo struck me as beautiful and grotesque at the same time. Beautiful in that the ink had been artfully done and the canvas was easy on the eyes. Grotesque in what it stood for.

  Last night I’d slept with a Hunter. I was pretty sure that made the top five list of ways to utterly betray your coterie, not to mention your foremothers, who’d died at the edge of a Hunter’s blade.

  I crept closer to inspect the tattoo across his back spanning from one shoulder to the other. Some of the symbols that looked to be an ancient form of writing were foreign to me. Others, the thick two-strand twists and knots, reminded me of tribal tattoos. Night vision was among my huldra abilities, but I’d need a flashlight to clearly see these details.

  Marcus rolled over and I moved away. He cracked his eyes open. His lips lifted in a grin. “Hey beautiful,” he said lazily. He reached for me, but I hesitated.

  He peered down in recognition and then looked up at me, still holding his lazy grin. “Do you want me to put on a shirt first?” he asked. “I understand if it bothers you.”

  “Does it bother you? Having Hunter tattoos across your body?” I asked. His ink was remnants of a lineage he’d since turned from, a belief system he no longer accepted.

  “On some days, yes, and on others, no.” He sat up, resting against the headboard. The yellow blanket and green sheet fell to his lap exposing his pecs and abs. His dark, tousled hair practically begged me to run my fingers through it.

  “Have you considered lasering them off?” I asked.

  “Not all of the Hunters’ ways are awful. Children are highly regarded as the future of the world. Family is important to them. They have a close-knit society where they can depend on each other. Growing up, I never felt alone because I always had cousins to play with. On the holidays we had huge gatherings with food and wine and games, sometimes lasting days. I didn’t have my own mother, but the women of the complex were more than happy to mother me and make sure I had meals cooked from scratch and clean clothes.”

  I bristled at his words. My coterie was closer than most families, but because of the Hunters we were unable to foster relationships with other Wilds, our cousins, and were led to believe that the others wished us nothing but harm.

  He brushed my leg with his knuckles. The whole huldras-don’t-enter-serious-relationships thing wasn’t what held me back anymore. I’d recently seen functioning Wild groups who didn’t live by that rule. Plus, Marcus wasn’t a human, so it was okay that he knew I wasn’t one either. But he wasn’t a human because he was born a Hunter. Ironic was an understatement.

  “Thank you for coming here and revealing yourself to me,” I finally said, after thinking better of a few other statements floating on my tongue.

  “I’m the same person I was when we had dinner together, the same person I was all those times we talked about movies and our embarrassing childhood memories over the intake desk. When we realized how much we have in common.” Marcus sat up a little taller. His brow furrowed. When he held his hand palm-up on my leg and I failed to entwine my fingers with his, he sighed and pulled it away.

  “And that’s the problem,” I said. “We have too much in common. We’re both pawns in a scheme created by a shadow society except you’re on the top and I’m at the bottom, preparing to cut the top off and throw it in the trash.” The need to control myself warred with my desire to be free, to be a Wild.

  “If you’re trying to push me away with this enemy stuff, we both know that it’s bullshit and it won’t work on me.” Marcus stood and pulled his jeans on. “I’ve seen you bring in the most notoriously difficult skips. I know when you want something you eventually get it. And I know you want me like I want you. So one way or another, this is going to work.”

  I considered his words as I grabbed my jacket where it had been draped over the chair beside the ta
ble.

  His tone changed from gravelly to irritated. “I hoped when we made love last night that you were okay with my past. That you understood it’s not my present and will never be my future. Or were you pumping me for information and getting your rocks off at the same time?”

  I stood within inches of Marcus. His eyes bore into mine.

  His distrust cut me, probably the way my questioning had cut him. “I’m not playing games,” I whispered on a harsh breath.

  “Neither am I.”

  I shook my head. At what, I wasn’t sure. Maybe at everything. I was to lead a war against the Hunters, the brotherhood of this man whose touch melted me. But the Wilds trusted and depended on me. To them it wouldn’t matter that Marcus wanted to help, that he’d left the brotherhood. Hunter blood ran through his veins, the blood of our enemy, our oppressors. The burden, laced with guilt, bore down on me.

  Marcus gripped my shoulders. “Last night, we didn’t have to hold back. Have you ever been able to do that with another man? Because I’ve never been able to do that with another woman. We got a glimpse of freedom. And I want more.”

  “Right now my priority is my sister,” I said. “And frankly, what’s about to transpire is bigger than you and me.” I sat on the bed and he sat beside me.

  Marcus ran his free hand through his hair and nodded. “I get that.” He exhaled, as though he too had a weight draped across his back. And he did, didn’t he? Of course he didn’t agree with the brotherhood, but if he helped me he would be actively hurting them. That couldn’t be an easy decision to make.

  “I have to go talk to the harpies and then get on a plane to find the rusalki.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I stated the obvious. Maybe I didn’t have his level of hope; with everything that’d happened lately I was running low on the stuff. I couldn’t figure out a scenario where a relationship with Marcus was possible. And the harder I tried, the more I wanted it, the more I fell into hopelessness. Even if everything worked out, my coterie would never accept him.