Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Margo Bond Collins

  As his eyes fluttered closed, he gripped his phone next to his thigh, stark fear clenching his chest. He had no idea what he’d done to cause Tyson to bring him out here and sedate him, but his phone would be his lifeline out of here once he regained consciousness. The guy was obviously out of his ever-loving mind, and Connor wished he’d listened to his gut and ended this damn hike before it ever began.

  He tried to speak, to beg Tyson to stop whatever plan he had, but the words wouldn’t travel from his brain to his tongue.

  Just before total unconsciousness overtook him, Tyson pulled the device from his fingers and mumbled, “My Queen will be happy with me.”

  As Sami walked around the French Quarter of New Orleans, she smiled. The fall sun shone high in the sky, the air held just a touch of warmth, and people seemed to be a little happier and friendlier. She’d stopped and eaten some gumbo, listened to a street corner jazz band, and picked up a few souvenirs and trinkets. She tried to imagine living in such a beautiful, vibrant city that had so much charm. Los Angeles had its fair share of character, but after experiencing New Orleans, she realized how plastic and surreal it all seemed. This city just struck her as more authentic and full of life. From the preacher on the street corner to the waitress serving gumbo, everyone had been kind and genuine. It had been a perfect day.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out, grinning when she realized she had a text from Connor.

  Decided to stay another day.

  Her shoulders sagged at the letdown as she typed. Why?

  Hopefully, he wouldn’t reply that he’d run into trouble, and her heart skipped a beat thinking of him in any danger.

  Just want to.

  She furrowed her brow. How unlike Connor not to offer up a better explanation. Everything okay?

  Yes. Fine. Talk soon.

  As she stared at the screen, she couldn’t help but think that everything wasn’t fine as he’d indicated, but she pushed the uneasy feeling aside. Maybe he was having a great time with his friend and just wanted to hang out another day.

  Still, it didn’t stop the disappointment from railing through her. With a sigh, she checked the time. She’d decided to treat herself to a pedicure and realized she better get her hustle on if she were to make it on time.

  7

  Connor woke, his head throbbing, his body trembling with cold.

  He opened his eyes and found himself in some type of cave. Dark stone made up the walls and the floor he laid upon. Torches cast shadows all over the place, and he thought he heard water dripping.

  With a groan, he sat up, and then realized he was naked, with metal cuffs around his ankles and wrists.

  What the hell?

  He heard footsteps echoing in a chamber off in the distance. With no recollection of how he had arrived in this place, his chest clenched in fear. Pulling on his wrists, he tried to break free of the shackles, with no luck—an exercise in futility. Bringing his knees to his chest, he tried to preserve some sort of modesty, but had a feeling that would also be as useless as attempting to get out of the restraints.

  The footsteps drew closer, and he glanced around for some type of weapon—a stick, a rock, a knife … preferably a Heckler and Koch MP5K machine gun … but found nothing.

  A woman came into view, and his heart thundered. Beautiful beyond words, her long, black hair hung around her shoulders just past her breasts while large ebony eyes stared at him. She wore a black robe that covered her from her neck to her ankles, with black flats. With her full lips, high cheekbones, and olive skin, she took his breath away.

  “Hello, Connor,” she said, her voice thick with a Middle Eastern accent.

  He didn’t answer as he tried to figure out how he’d ended up in a damn cave. He recalled leaving New Orleans, landing in Seattle, and visiting a few clubs. After that, he couldn’t remember anything.

  As she approached him, he had a feeling he was truly and completely screwed. He could tell by the way her mouth sat in a thin line that she was not a happy person.

  She bent down so they were face-to-face, and she grabbed his chin with enough force that he couldn’t move his head while she studied him for a long moment. Fear constricted his throat, and sweat broke out over his body.

  As she pulled back her lips, his eyes widened at the sight of the longest, whitest, scariest fangs he’d ever seen. She hissed at him and squeezed his chin harder, like she tried to pop out a few of his teeth.

  “My name is Selene Ambrogio,” she muttered, “and I’ve had quite enough of you meddling in my business.”

  Oh, fuck.

  The memories came flooding back. His hike with Tyson, the guy pulling a tranquilizer gun and shooting him … what had it been? Four times? He then recalled the psychopath mumbling something about his queen right before Connor passed out.

  And here he sat in front of Selene Ambrogio, who must hold the title of Queen. As he stared into the darkest, most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen, he realized how wrong he’d been thinking that Pedro Chavez had been the top dog. No, he guessed that he now looked at the head honcho, and because of those damn big-ass fangs, his bones rattled in his skin. They looked as if they could rip him apart quite easily if the beautiful woman decided that’s what she wanted.

  He had no idea how to respond to her, so he simply tried to clear the fear from his throat, figuring she’d only become more upset if he threw out nice to meet you or some other trivial greeting. He also moved his gaze from her direct line of eyesight. He wouldn’t be falling into any trance in the near future.

  “You’ve become quite meddlesome, Connor Dickson.”

  It surprised him that she knew his name, although he couldn’t say why.

  “First, you interfere with my blood business in Los Angeles, and now, my drug operation in Seattle.”

  Well, this answered that question.

  She stood and walked around him, stopping when she reached his back. His body shook as her breath caressed his ear.

  “I will make sure you pay for all of it,” she whispered, then ran her tongue over his pulse. “Pull him up, my pet,” she yelled.

  Suddenly, his legs jerked upward, sending him to his back with a wince and a groan as his shoulders hit the rock beneath him. He looked above him to see he literally lay at Selene’s feet.

  He fought the upward motion, having no desire to hang by his feet like some pig that had just been slaughtered, but he had no recourse.

  As he was lifted into the air, Selene held up her hand once they were face to face.

  The blood rushed to his head as he stared at her upside down, focusing on her chin, trying not to show the utter terror that had his heart pounding a million miles per hour.

  “You and I are going to get acquainted,” she whispered. “And then, I have very special plans for you.”

  Her dark gaze seemed to bore into his very soul, and he continued to avert his eyes from hers. He recognized the pull of a being put into a trance, and he had no intention of going there.

  “You don’t talk much, Connor,” she said, circling him. “You have toyed with the wrong vampire.”

  Yeah, he’d kind of figured that one.

  She turned and began walking into the darkness surrounding his peripheral vision.

  “Come!” she yelled.

  Tyson emerged from the shadows, following her like an obedient dog.

  Connor closed his eyes and tried to calm down, his head now thundering and making it difficult to think straight. He needed to get upright.

  Shutting his eyes, he began to swing his body at the waist, hoping to create a pendulum effect. After a moment, he had it, and he used his strength to lift himself—good thing he did crunches on a daily basis. The blood rushed from his head back into his body, and he cursed at the discomfort. On a normal person, the action would be painful, but with the remnants of his concussion, it felt downright excruciating.

  The metal cuffs on his ankles bit into his skin as he held on to the chain to keep
himself vertical. He pulled on it as he looked up. The chain disappeared into the darkness above him, and he considered climbing to where it was bolted and to see if he could somehow get it loose.

  He began to haul himself up, one hand over the other, his biceps burning and cramping. After a few moments, he squinted and tried to see through the sheer darkness above, yet, he couldn’t make out anything. It was as if he stared into a deep abyss. He continued to climb, and when he estimated he was about twenty feet above the ground, he cursed under his breath and stopped.

  Wiping the sweat away from his eyes, he looked around again and considered his predicament. If he were to keeping hoisting himself upward and he could somehow loosen the chain, he’d fall to the cave floor and most likely break a bunch of bones, or kill himself. That wouldn’t get him anywhere. At least, at the present moment, he had all his limbs in working order, even if they were shackled.

  He began to shimmy downward, his arms and legs now screaming and shaking with the exertion as his breath sawed in and out of his lungs.

  Selene Ambrogio.

  Obviously, the woman was a vampire. He recalled the story of Ambrogio and his wife, but didn’t think for a moment she could be the real Selene he had read about. Selene had become the goddess of the moon, and besides, Sami had told him that vampires live for a thousand years. No, this woman had only taken on the name. It was physically impossible for her to be the real one.

  What he did know with absolute certainty was that she wanted to hurt him, and probably torture him and to watch him die. True, he’d had a hand in destroying two of her so-called businesses, but he couldn’t help but wonder if the hate went deeper than that. He could practically feel in coming off of her in waves. If she was only concerned about the businesses, then she’d simply be done with him and start them again. This seemed personal, and with that realization, it became even more imperative that he escape.

  As he glanced around again at the dark, empty cavern, he tried to keep the feeling of hopelessness at bay. Hanging here feeling sorry for himself wouldn’t get him anywhere, but in all honesty, he had no idea how he was supposed to get out alive.

  8

  Connor didn’t know how long he’d been hanging from the chain. For a while, he’d tried to vary his position from upright, where the shackles cut into his ankles, to hanging upside down, where not only did the cuffs cut into his skin, but he sat on the edge of passing out from the blood rushing to his head.

  The chill had left his body long ago, and he ignored the trickle of blood making its way past his knee and groin to his stomach. He’d closed his eyes and allowed his mind to transport him out of this fuck-all situation.

  He imagined himself sitting with Sami in a café in New Orleans. With the sun shining and a cool breeze, the day was close to perfect. They shared beignets, and each had a cup of coffee. Sami took a bit of creamer, preferably vanilla-nut-flavored. Content in the silence and with people watching, they didn’t feel the need to talk, but simply enjoyed each other company.

  When finished, they stood, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and she placed hers around his waist. She gazed up at him with her beautiful, dark eyes, and he leaned down and kissed her soft lips, his life feeling full and complete.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I love you, too.”

  The footsteps echoing in the chamber brought him out of his reverie, but didn’t take away the sting of his daydream. He’d never told Sami he loved her. The words had sat on the tip of his tongue for so long, but he’d never been able to get them out. Now, he regretted it. He wanted her to know how he felt in case his time here with Selena went south and he ended up dead. The probability of it happening seemed pretty high.

  He’d always thought there’d be time later for him to tell her how happy she made him, but it seemed like he wouldn’t have much more ‘later.’

  He hoisted himself up so he remained upright and just out of her reach. Of course, his buddy Tyson could lower him to the ground at any time, but at least, he felt as if he were attempting to keep his ass alive, no matter how futile the action may be.

  As Selene and Tyson came into view, he began to shake with fear. Would she end him now?

  “I smell blood!” she announced as she approached him. She stopped directly in front of him, looked up, and inhaled deeply. Tyson stood behind her, staring into the dark shadows with a faraway look in his eyes, almost as if he weren’t really present in the moment. Then, she reached out and ran her finger along his ankle where the cuff had bored into his skin. As she brought her forefinger to her mouth, she stuck out her tongue and gently rubbed the pad along her lips.

  “Not my preference, but I’ve had worse.”

  Well, that did nothing to boost his confidence that she wouldn’t rip him limb from limb at any moment.

  “Go lower him down, my pet.”

  Tyson walked past him and disappeared into the darkness, and slowly, Connor descended until he hit the rock flooring. Despite wanting to stand eye-to-eye with her, his exhausted body and the intense muscle pain won out. His head throbbed like a jackhammer that had set up shop within his brain, and he crumpled to ground, feeling weak and pathetic as he sat at her feet.

  Out of his peripheral vision, he watched her move to a rock about four feet from him and sit down, her black robe waving around her feet. Looking over his shoulder, he expected to see Tyson returning to the light, but apparently, he didn’t do much unless Selene told him to. He must just be standing in the shadows waiting for his next command.

  Connor glanced up at her, and she grinned, her fangs gleaming in the low light.

  “You see, Connor, you’ve gotten yourself into something that is bigger than you. We did our best to try to ignore your pesky presence, but you’ve now made that impossible.”

  Meeting her gaze—well, he actually stared at the space in between her eyebrows—he figured he may as well hear the whole story. Dead man walking, and all that.

  “I get that I ruined a couple of businesses, but I don’t understand why you would want to keep me chained up. You’re a vampire. I’m just a lowly human. In the end, I’m pretty harmless.”

  She grinned again, a smile that sent chills down his spine at the sheer evil emanating from it.

  “You’re correct. I could snap your neck without issue at any time I want, but there’s more to the story, Connor. More that you may never be privy to. However, I can tell you the final outcome of all of it.”

  Yay. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but at this point, he figured he had nothing to lose.

  “What’s that?”

  “Vampires have been around as long as Man has, yet, we remain tucked away out of society, which doesn’t make any sense to those like me. We are stronger than humans. We have abilities that humans lack. In most cases, we have a far superior intelligence. So, why are we standing in the shadow of humankind? Why aren’t we the ones in charge?”

  He recalled Sami telling him about vampires like Selene—the ones who thought of their race as greater than humans’. Most vampires were happy to keep their secret safe from society and blend in with humans, often working the night jobs that no one wanted such as cops, hospital workers, convenience stores, casinos … anywhere that employed people in the darkness of the early morning hours, you would probably find a vampire or three working there.

  “You also have those of your race that are perfectly fine living the way they are,” he commented.

  “Yes, and they are foolish. Their forbearers mating with humans too much have diluted my kind. They’ve lost their way as one of us, as one of a superior race.”

  Jesus. She sounded like Hitler or some insane tyrant.

  She studied him carefully as she spoke. “Did you know that there are some vampires that don’t even need blood on a consistent basis to survive?”

  He kept his features neutral, not wanting to give away that he was in love with one of those that she spoke of.

  “Yes, it’s tr
ue, Connor. They are weak, pathetic creatures who don’t deserve to call themselves vampire. In my opinion, they should be eradicated from our race.”

  His jaw clenched in anger, and the need to wrap his hands around her throat welled within him. However, she had the upper hand here, and with his wrists cuffed, he wouldn’t be doing her any physical harm.

  “I’ve spent fifty years wandering every continent and considering these questions, and I’ve finally decided to liberate my oppressed brothers and sisters. We will prevail, and the natural order will be righted.”

  His feet began to tingle as the feeling came back into them, which only led to more aches and pains. Frankly, he didn’t know how much more he could take, but he had a idea he’d be finding out soon enough. At least if he kept her talking, he received a reprieve from being dangled in midair.

  “How do you plan on doing that?” he asked.

  “Although I am wealthy, I only have so much. Behind any great venture is loads and loads of money. And before you interfered, I was making a lot of it, hoarding it so I could set my plan into motion.”

  All the pieces fell into place.

  Pedro had been her point man, the one who got things done in the human world while she ruled over him from her cave. He’d taken care of the underlings who dealt the drugs, kidnapped the humans, and ran the blood business. No, Pedro hadn’t been the head of the snake, and since hindsight was twenty-twenty, he now realized that should have been as plain as day to him.

  Even before he’d been killed, Pedro had made sure that Connor would pay for his interference.

  He imagined Pedro had looked up Connor’s history and found Tyson living and breathing right under his nose in Seattle. For all Connor knew, Tyson had pictures of both of them on his damn Facebook page. There wasn’t any privacy any longer, and it didn’t take much to find out about anyone, even those that didn’t want to be found.