Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

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Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection Page 10

by Margo Bond Collins


  “Hello?” she called. “You alive back there?”

  The taillights cast a ruddy glow. Beyond that, she couldn’t see shit. And there was no answer.

  “Jimmy, hand me the goggles.”

  He tossed them to her and she dragged them over her head, the nightscape suddenly springing to life around her with green-tinted accuracy. They'd cost her half a year's rations three years ago, when the traders came through, but they were worth it. And Riley could hunt, so it hadn't left her hungry for long.

  A pair of bare feet lay motionless behind the vehicle, blood splashed across his jeans.

  “M-maybe we should go. Just leave him there," Jimmy stammered.

  Tempting. Riley weighed her options – and the shotgun. She was running out of time to warn the settlement. But her father had always cautioned her not to lose her humanity. The rest of the world might be torn apart and broken, but they had to hold onto their souls out here, or risk becoming just as empty as the wargs themselves.

  “We leave him here and he’s as good as dead,” she muttered, inching toward the back of the jeep. There was no sign of the cat-shine of animal eyes out there, but they wouldn’t be far away. The sun had gone, and a few stars flickered in the sky. Time for the wargs to come out and play.

  Pumping a round into the chamber, Riley stepped around the vehicle, aiming it at the prone man. “Hey. You alive?”

  No movement. She kicked his foot, and it rolled to the side then back with not a hint of muscular tension.

  “Shit.” There was blood everywhere. A massive gash slashed across his chest, and hints of bruising darkened his ribs. Thick, dark hair blackened his scalp, but his face was turned away from her. Pewter glinted on his chest. A charm of some sort, vaguely native.

  Nausea flooded through her. She’d killed a man.

  Not the first time she’d ever killed – but wargs didn’t count. Their humanity was long gone, stolen by the flesh-hunger that ravaged them. Monsters, her father had called them. And there was no guilt in hunting down the monsters that consumed this world. Man or beast.

  “He’s not moving,” she called, lifting the goggles onto her head. “Start the jeep. Let’s get going–”

  And that was when she noticed it: the ragged edges of the gash in his chest were re-knitting at an almost visible rate. What the hell...? She took a step closer. Wargs healed fast, but with the moon edging over the horizon they wouldn’t be able to contain their beast-form like this.

  Reaching out with the shotgun, she used it to turn his face toward her.

  Mid-thirties maybe. Chiseled jaw. Rough dark stubble, and skin that glowed under the harsh red light of the rear lights. The kind of face that made her hesitate, just for a moment....

  Then his eyes shot open, the light catching them and reflecting back silvery-red. A smile stretched over his lips, immediately devilish. “Surprise,” he whispered.

  Riley’s stomach dropped, and she leapt back with a curse. “Gun, Jimmy! It’s a warg!”

  In the seconds it took to yell, the stranger rolled onto his feet. Fluid. Lithe. Almost too fast to see. Riley shoved the shotgun up, but the warg smashed it out of the way, following up with a kick that swept her feet out from under her.

  She hit the ground hard. The breath exploded from her lungs and, for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. The goggles were gone. Lungs burning, Riley choked on nothing, her hands still clenched desperately around the shotgun. If she lost that then she was dead.

  And Jimmy too.

  Jimmy! Her eyes went wide. She wanted to scream at him to get behind the wheel and get the hell out of here, but she couldn’t.

  “Riley! Get away from her, you monster!” Jimmy’s voice, coming out of the dark like some teen crusading-angel.

  No! She’d promised Mabel that she wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

  Her lungs suddenly opened, and oxygen rushed back in on a gasp. It burned, all the way through. A hand fisted in her hair and the stranger hauled her to her feet, dragging her back against his solid chest. His arm cut across her throat, threatening to choke her, and then he tilted her face to the side, exposing the vulnerable column of her neck. Four sharp little points dug into her skin.

  Claws.

  Riley froze.

  “Not another step, boy wonder.” The voice was rough and low. A hint of amusement edged it. “Or I’ll rip her throat open.”

  She could just see Jimmy out of the corner of her vision, the gun pointed at them wavering as confusion crossed his face. He was too young for this shit, but he knew his orders. Knew what he was supposed to do in the event that his partner was captured.

  “Get back... in the jeep,” Riley told him, gasping the words. Easier to make the decision for him. “And get the hell out of here. Report to base.”

  Where Mabel could wrap him in her arms as he cried for the partner he’d lost. They all went through it. Out here, on the edge of the Wastelands, not a man or woman amongst them hadn’t watched someone else die.

  The claws pricked her and she froze, not daring to move. One cut, one bite, and there was a chance of his curse spreading - a fate worse than death.

  “You’re not the one calling the shots, sweetheart.” A slight Southern drawl. “What’s your name, boy?”

  “J-Jimmy.”

  “Nice lookin’ warg cage there on the back of the jeep.” That was definitely laughter in his voice. She could feel the rumble of it through his chest. “You ever caught a warg before?”

  Jimmy’s eyes rolled toward her in a silent plea. “Ah, not personally.”

  “You ever shoot a warg before?”

  “No.”

  “Then be a good boy and put the gun away, before someone gets hurt.” The laughter cut off as if it had never been. The body behind her stilled as the claws slid down her throat, trailing lightly over her skin.

  Riley barely dared to breathe. Sweat gathered under her arms and between her breasts. When a drop of moisture slid down her throat, he followed it with his claws, an appreciative purr rumbling through his throat.

  Jimmy stared through the gun sight, his hair matted with blood.

  “Put it down,” she whispered. “And get in the jeep.”

  The gun lowered. Jimmy's hands shook, and she knew exactly how he felt.

  “Get in the jeep,” she repeated.

  Lips glided along the side of her throat. Riley shivered. “Go,” she told Jimmy desperately. “Warn Haven.”

  “Not just yet.” The warg's grip tightened as he bestowed a faint kiss against the line of her trapezius. “Do you know Adam McClain?”

  Even as Jimmy shook his head, Riley felt herself stiffen. Shit. The mouth against her nape lifted, and his warm breath cooled her damp skin.

  “But you do.” He sounded delighted.

  “He’s no friend of mine,” she replied stiffly.

  “Where is he?”

  Riley hesitated. No way in hell was she giving up a human to the monsters. Even if the man in question almost deserved it. “I don’t know,” she lied. “I’ve never seen him, just heard his voice. It’s only radio contact out here. We don’t exactly host a barn dance with the other settlements.”

  A hand slid over her hip, hauling her tight against him. Tight enough to know he was enjoying this. Riley’s hands clenched on the shotgun. All he had to do was give her a chance. Just one.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” he whispered. “Make a move, and I’ll kill the boy first. Make you watch. Better you just put it down, honey.”

  She lowered the barrel of the shotgun and rested it on his foot, the threat imminent. “You that fast on one leg?”

  “Fast enough.” His fingers dug into her, the claws almost, but not quite, breaking the skin.

  She met Jimmy’s eyes. She couldn’t do anything with him there. “Go. Please.”

  “And tell them I’m looking for McClain,” the stranger lifted his voice. “If he wants the woman, he’ll have to find me this time. I’ll keep her alive for a week. If he doesn’t come
for me by then, then I’ll kill her and take someone else.”

  “And who are you?” Jimmy dared to ask. A tear slid down his cheek, but hope had risen in his eyes. He had a week, and he knew it.

  Riley knew she wouldn’t be alive by then. She’d make sure of it. There were worse alternatives.

  “Wade. Lucius Wade. You tell him that. Tell him I’ll be headin’ east.”

  Jimmy nodded, taking one last look at her. “Won’t let you down, Riley. We’ll come for you.” His hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t hold the pistol anymore. It clattered to the rocks as he turned, running jerkily for the door of the jeep. He slammed it shut, the noise echoing through the gulch.

  Then he was gone, the wheels screaming as they fought for purchase on the sandy surface. All she could see were his taillights, fading into the distance.

  “Now,” Wade murmured. “Let’s you and me talk a little more about McClain.”

  “I’ve got a better idea.” Riley tilted her face to meet his gaze. The predatory glint rolled through his pale eyes, but she called his bluff, hoping it was one. “You’re not going to claw me up. You need me alive – and unharmed – to bait your trap. So, how ‘bout I blow your foot off?”

  “Then what?”

  In the distance, the taillights began to fade. All alone. With a man who should’ve been a beast by that point. Her heart was in her throat, but Riley pressed on. “What do you mean?”

  “Can’t you hear it?”

  Silence. The wind whispering over the desert. And, beneath that, almost inaudible to her ears, the eerie sound of something howling in the distance.

  She stopped breathing. Wargs. In beast form. If she got away from him, she’d be torn to pieces. If she was lucky.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he mused. “Like a frigging desert symphony. Full of death, and longing... And hunger... Hear that?” He tilted his head as another throaty howl echoed out through the night, slightly closer. “There’s another one.”

  He didn’t need to threaten her. Or point out that she wouldn’t get far. The night was a dark place, and a little voice whispered in her mind, Better the devil you know....

  At least Wade was still in human form. Claws or not, that was better than being mauled to death – or raped – by one of the monstrously deformed weres.

  “What do you plan to do with me?” she finally asked, shifting the shotgun off his foot.

  “Good girl.” His fingers closed over hers. “Now, give it to me.”

  She didn’t want to; that was her last hope, right there. His fingers tightened, just a fraction, and Riley let the shotgun slip through her hand, sucking in a deep breath.

  Wade snapped the barrel open and examined the shot. “You know lead doesn’t have much effect on a warg?”

  “Silver’s harder to melt,” she replied. “And I wouldn't look inside the casing if I were you. You don’t want the chemical contents inside mixing together while it’s in your hand.” A direct look into his eyes. “Or within fifteen feet of me.”

  “What happens then?” Something that might have been curiosity shifted in his gaze.

  “Boom.”

  “Hmm.” He snapped the barrel shut and let her go. “You make it yourself?”

  The sudden chill of the night almost made her want to step closer, huddle against his warmth. “What does it matter?”

  He smiled. His teeth were very white in the night. “You’re an interesting woman.” Leaning closer, he laughed in her ear. “I might just keep you around for a while.”

  She smiled back. “You’ll have to sleep sometime.”

  Wade’s laughter echoed, the sound of it soft and intimate in the night. “We’ll see. Now, turn around and put your hands behind you.”

  “Or?”

  The laughter died. He gave her a dangerous look and hefted the shotgun like a club, the butt of the stock raised above his head. “Or I knock you out, and throw you over my shoulder. I'd have to carry you, but you won’t be able to see where I’m taking you then, huh?”

  She obeyed, grinding her teeth together. The thought of being helpless was far from appealing, but she didn’t have much choice.

  And she knew this land like the back of her hand. If she could escape – during the day – then she might have a chance of making it home. As if he knew what was going through her mind, he chuckled softly.

  The feel of his hand on her midriff made her flinch, but he was only undoing her belt. “Relax. I prefer a little more subtlety to my seduction, and the night’s about to get dangerously overcrowded. I’m not fussy, but I’m not that interested in sharing either.”

  She looked up. No movement on the plain, but that faint, echoing song still lingered in the air. “You want to hurry a bit, then?”

  He jerked the belt through the loops of her jeans, making her stagger. “Now you want to come with me? Must be my charm.”

  She didn’t reply, and he wrapped the belt around her wrists. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then jerked it tight, setting the buckle in place. There wasn’t even a finger’s width of wriggle room.

  “Which way?” she asked.

  “East.”

  “But there’s nothing out there.”

  Wade gave her a lazy-lidded smile. “You’ll see.”

  Faint light turned the sky ahead of her rosy. Dawn. A long time coming. Riley’s feet were aching, and her hands throbbed from lack of circulation. They’d left the warg-song behind hours ago, but she still glanced over her shoulder occasionally, checking the horizon. You didn’t always hear them coming.

  Despite the hike, Wade seemed none the worse for wear. He hadn’t bothered with conversation, and she wasn’t interested in starting one. He’d tugged a duffel out from behind a rock an hour into the trek, dragging a faded black muscle shirt on and a pair of heavy shit-kickers. From the rattle of the bag, he was packing some serious heat too.

  “Why just the jeans?” she’d asked.

  “The better to tempt you with.”

  They were the only words they’d exchanged.

  Exhaustion was starting to settle in when she staggered up a dusty rise. As the sky cleared, she got her first sight of what lay ahead, and stopped in her tracks.

  “No way.”

  Icy sweat sprang up against her spine. Ahead, a barbed-wire fence stretched for miles. Signs clung to the wire with faded black hazard symbols barely visible against the yellow. She didn’t come out this way often. Nobody did. But she knew where she was.

  “Black River Testing Facility,” Wade said cheerfully, shoving her in the back with the shotgun.

  She staggered forward, then dug her heels in.

  “Home, sweet home,” he added. “Don’t be shy. I scrubbed the bloodstains off the floor.”

  “It’s not the bloodstains I’m worried about,” she replied. “I changed my mind. I’ll sit out here and wait for the wargs.”

  He laughed. “It’s sterile. They came through and destroyed any remaining signs of the pathogen. You’re not at risk. It’s been over seventy years since Black River was used to weapons-test their gene-enhanced critters, and sixty-something since the meteor hit.”

  “Why didn’t they bomb the place?” She glared up at the stark adobe buildings behind the fence.

  “What would be the point? Everybody was dead.” He shrugged. “And the government had other matters on their mind. Namely the Eastern Confederacy, and the enforcer bands.”

  He gave her a gentler nudge. Riley staggered forward, her left knee giving out beneath her. With a sharp cry, she plunged forward, unable to balance herself.

  Strong hands caught her by the belt. She almost screamed as fiery pain flashed through her hands.

  “I forget you’re only human,” he commented, tearing the belt buckle loose.

  “No,” she murmured, feeling blood begin to circulate through her fingers like liquid nitrogen through her veins. Too late. The throbbing sensation made her head spin. She could barely even move her arms, even though they were free now.
>
  “You should have told me you were hurtin’.” He swung her over his shoulder with ridiculous ease.

  No! She kicked at him. “I’m not going into that building! Leave me out here! I’d rather die.”

  “So melodramatic.” He kept walking, ignoring her struggles. “That’s always an option, you realize, darlin’. I really only need McClain to think I’ve got you. A little hair and the scent off your clothes ought to do it, if I bait the trap right.” His manner was easy, as if he were speaking about what she’d like for dinner, and not about cutting her throat.

  A shiver ran through her. Any doubts about just how dangerous he was evaporated like a drop of water in the desert sun.

  Glancing back over her shoulder, she could see the fence looming closer. “Why the hard-on for McClain?” Keep him talking. Then maybe he won’t kill me.

  “He’s still breathing,” he replied, as if that explained it all.

  Ripping a piece of the fence aside, he slipped in through the gap. The scrape in the dirt showed this wasn’t a recent development.

  Just how long had he been out here, hiding in this godforsaken place? Watching for a chance to get at someone, and hoping they came from McClain’s settlement.

  The buildings loomed in the night, soaking up the soft, pre-dawn light. The stark white adobe walls looked ghostly, and the silence was unerring. Some trick of the wind kept a sheet of loose iron banging in the distance.

  Creepy. She tensed against Wade, momentarily grateful for his company. And that just said it all, really.

  Black River was the site of every Wastelander’s nightmares. Everyone knew the stories: a hidden government facility running research into wargs, and forced evolution, whatever the hell that meant. Weapons testing, though the weapons had once been human. Rykker, the only settler in Haven who remained from before the Darkening, claimed that nobody even knew what shadow-cats were before the meteor struck, and something escaped from Black River. Now, the Great Divide was crawling with them.

  Why would you even create something like that? Sometimes she thought it would be easier to live in pre-Darkening times, where you could buy your foods in something called a supermarket, or fill your car at a gas station, according to Rykker. Then she'd think about all the bad things that still plagued the world, like the Dead Zones surrounding ancient nuclear plants that had been destroyed by wildfires from the crash, or the revenant plague.

 

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