Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Margo Bond Collins

  “You look like a fucking cat burglar.” Leon laughs as he takes in my entirely black attire.

  “Rawr,” I say with a straight voice. “What should I be wearing? Neon? A reflective vest? Hey, everyone, I’m just breaking into this building at night. Nothing to see here.”

  “Haha. You’re so funny.” Leon rolls his eyes. “And if we do run into someone, we’ll just say we’re there to do some research. Or work. Or whatever. Act innocent.”

  “I’m really good at that,” I say sarcastically. I don’t think anyone has ever accused me of being innocent.

  Leon grabs his laptop from the back seat and starts to type, while I gaze out the window. This feels like right before a capture. When I’m still calm, but ready to spring. To run. To go. When my adrenaline is building up and getting ready to spur me on with energy and strength and ferocity. This? This is what life’s all about.

  And it’s also how I feel when I’m around Foster.

  And that’s fucked up. I’ve never felt that way about a guy before. Not that Foster’s exactly a guy. He’s technically not even human. Still . . .

  Leon interrupts my thoughts. “All right. Cameras are down. Let’s go.”

  I reach out and grab his arm, stopping his movement. “You can stay here, Leon. If I go alone and get caught, I’d never mention you. Nobody ever has to know you were involved in this.”

  He doesn’t hesitate at all. “Nope. When I’m in, I’m in all the way.”

  “That’s what she said,” I mutter as I get out of the car. I hear Leon chortle behind me. Then he’s out too, and we’re jogging toward The Center.

  “Jesus,” huffs Leon after a few seconds. “I need to fucking get into shape.”

  “And lay off the pie. Come on. This is eating into that half hour we’ve got.” I’ve set my timer, and the seconds are already ticking down. We don’t have any time to waste.

  It’s always a little different—and a little creepier—being somewhere at night. I mean, I’ve been to The Center at this time before, to deliver animals I’ve captured. But we’ve always gone in through the back, and it was always legitimate. This time? I feel like a criminal. Technically? I guess I’m not doing anything wrong. After all, I work here. And nobody said Floor Zero was off limits. Then again, having a coworker hack into the system to shut off security cameras is probably against the rules.

  Fuck it.

  “Hey. Which door should we use?” I stop with The Center in sight.

  “Uh, the front should be fine.”

  “Wait. Are we using our key cards to get in? Won’t the system keep track?”

  “One step ahead of you,” pants Leon, trying to catch his breath. He reaches into the pocket of his khaki jacket and pulls out a key card, this one without the usual photo on it.

  “What’s this?” I take it from him and turn it over.

  “Made a dummy card. It’s not linked to anyone, but it’ll open all the doors.”

  “Leon? You’re the fucking best ever.” I squeeze his arm and grin up at him.

  “And you’re the fucking worst.” He sighs, but his eyes are kind.

  “Yeah. So you’ve said. Come on. Let’s do this.”

  We cross the distance, The Center looming ahead, getting closer and closer. I keep looking everywhere, trying to make sure nobody’s around, but our surroundings are devoid of movement of any kind. I’m fairly certain we’re safe.

  I worry momentarily that Leon’s fake key card won’t work, but it does, and as the door emits a beep and clicks unlocked, I grin at him. “I owe you a drink,” I whisper.

  “You owe me an entire liquor store.” Leon follows me inside.

  We don’t dare turn on any lights, but the exit signs and a few high-tech looking baseboard lights I’d never noticed during the day provide enough visibility for us to make our way through the lobby and straight to the hallway with the special elevator at the end.

  “You got the elevator code?” I ask Leon as I press the up button, the only one available.

  “Yup.” He pulls up his jacket sleeve to reveal a series of ones and twos written in permanent marker on his arm.

  “What? Are you in junior high? Writing digits on your hand?” I laugh.

  “I’m about as smart as a middle schooler to be doing this right now with you,” he mumbles as we step inside the elevator. “Okay. Hold on.” He stands in front of the elevator buttons and begins pressing them in the sequence he’s written on his arm.

  Nerves rush through me. This isn’t going to work. I’m suddenly positive the code is wrong, and we won’t be able to find another way into the basement. I’ll stay till morning and try. But my stomach’s sinking.

  And then all the buttons light up in unison, flashing on and off together. The doors slide closed, and I hold my breath.

  And feel the elevator begin to descend.

  “Holy shit,” Leon and I whisper it in unison, and laugh nervously.

  “Jinx,” whispers Leon.

  But all I can do is stare as the elevator stops at the bottom level and the doors begin to open.

  7

  We step out into a white hallway, not unlike those on the upper floors. I pull out my flashlight to get a better look, and see that the hall extends to our right and left, and a quick glance both ways shows doors on either side of the hallway. Lots and lots of doors. And we don’t have much time.

  “Come on.” I head right and stop at the first door. It doesn’t have a key code reader, unlike all the doors upstairs. I try to turn the knob, but it’s locked. “Fuck,” I whisper. “Here, hold this.” I hand the flashlight to Leon, while I pull my lock-picking kit out of the inner pocket of my leather jacket.

  “Why am I not surprised you have that,” whispers Leon.

  I don’t respond, just get busy working the lock. Luckily, it’s not super secure, and I’m in within a matter of seconds. “You’re welcome.” I beam up at Leon as I push open the door.

  There are filing cabinets and a desk. A few chairs. A bookshelf with books that are probably relevant but not what I’m looking for. Not that I’m sure exactly what I’m going to find, but somehow, I know it’s not this. There’s more.

  “Next.” I head to the second door and make quick work opening it. This one’s even less immediately interesting. A bunch of sealed moving boxes, which, yes, probably have some good stuff. But with less than twenty minutes left, we need to move on.

  I proceed down the hallway when Leon grabs my arm. “Shhh,” he whispers. “Listen.”

  We stand perfectly still and I hold my breath. Faintly, so quiet it’s barely audible, a screeching sounds, from somewhere behind one of these doors. Something alive is down here.

  I put up my hand to let Leon know I need a minute, and I close my eyes. Why didn’t I think of this sooner?

  I take a deep breath, erasing all thoughts from my mind, and let everything go away. My mind’s blank and empty and ready to receive . . .

  Fuck. My eyes snap open as I fall backward. Somehow, I manage to stop myself with one hand behind me; otherwise, I’d have hit the back of my head on the cold tiles.

  “You all right?” Leon’s kneeling down next to me, peering at me in the dark.

  “Jesus fucking Christ.” It’s hard to speak. It’s hard to breath. I’m dizzy, my head ringing.

  “What happened? Did you do your mind thing?” He’s staring hard at me.

  “Yeah. I did. And . . . it was so strong. I thought maybe we’d find a creature down here? But Leon? I think there are lots of them.”

  “Lots? Like how many are we talking about?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. But it was all these different signals, all going off in my head at once. And close. So close. It’s like if you suddenly heard fire trucks and ambulances and police cars all at the same time. You couldn’t count how many vehicles there were. You’d just know that some big fucking catastrophe had happened.”

  He nods as if he understands. It’s the best explanation I can give.r />
  “Except,” I continue, “it’s right inside your head. Louder than anything you’ve ever heard before. Fuck.” I massage my temples. “I wish I had some fucking Advil.”

  Leon glances at his watch, then looks at me with a guilty expression. Like he should be more worried about me than the time.

  But he’s right. We need to move. I actually take his hand to help me stand; it’s rare for me to accept assistance.

  “Can you tell where it’s coming from?” he asks.

  “Only the general direction. I don’t want to signal in again unless I have to. But we’re going the right way.” We continue down the hallway until suddenly the hair on my arms stands up. I’m not using my brain to feel for the creatures, but somehow my body is still in tune with them. “This is it.” I nod toward the door. “They’re in there.”

  The door’s locked, so I get out my picking tools again.

  “And Marcus has never mentioned a second lab?” Leon asks, like he needs to make sure we’re on the same page about everything before we continue.

  “Nope.” I keep working with my pick, feeling tension on the pins until the tumbler rolls. Yes! “Has he to you?”

  “No.”

  I turn to him. “You ready?”

  He sighs. “I guess so.”

  “Let’s do this.” I turn the handle and push in the door.

  At first, as I shine the flashlight around the room, which is obviously a huge lab, I’m not sure what I’m seeing.

  “What the fuck?” whispers Leon somewhere behind me.

  It’s too much to take in, so I investigate the first large cage sitting near the entrance, in which a creature I didn’t catch is lying. It must be sedated, because its eyes barely flicker under the light. And it’s something I’ve never seen. A small centaur-like creature, from what I can tell, with four legs of a goat. Its upper body is covered in the same brown matted fur as the lower half, but the top part is otherwise human. Arms with hands and fingers. Shoulders. Neck. And the head: like a hair-covered human being. With wires and electrodes and IVs sticking out of it everywhere. Hooked up to machines. And drugged out of its mind.

  I shake my head and continue on. Cage after cage. Creature after creature. Some I’ve seen. Some I haven’t. A few I recognize as ones I did catch, but Marcus had said were shipped to fellow cryptozoologists in other parts of the country, or returned to their locations of origin.

  Why did he lie to me? And what’s he doing with them?

  “Oh. Fuck. Thea.” Leon’s voice reminds me I’m not alone here, and we don’t have much time. I approach him, at the other end of the lab, and what I see literally takes my breath away.

  A tall tank of water is before me, bubbling and slightly illuminated even in the dark room. And inside, somehow floating in the exact middle of it, is a mermaid. Her former beauty is obvious in the light sway of her light blond hair and the shimmery violet of her tale. But most of her scales look dry, despite being in water. Some are missing, pale sickly skin revealed instead. Her breasts are small, her nipples like tiny pebbles. But her skin is mottled, bluish veins showing everywhere, like a delicate, spidery map. Her eyelids are purple and dark bags under her eyes mar her otherwise gorgeous and other-worldly face.

  “Oh my God.” I press my hands on the glass, then knock, hoping to elicit something from her.

  For a moment her eyelids flicker. Then, for one brilliant second, her eyes open and she stares at me. For as long as I live, I’ll never forget that color: the deep bluish purple of her irises. And I’ll never forget the desperation in them.

  And then they close once more.

  I knock again, harder, but she remains asleep. “Dead?” I wonder for an agonizing second? But I see the monitor outside her tank, somehow hooked up to her, showing the steady though slow beating of her heart.

  Leon and I look at each other. “What the fuck?” I hiss. “What is this?”

  I mean, I know Marcus keeps the cryptids in cages and enclosures. I visit the ones upstairs all the time. But this? This is different. These creatures look sick. Malnourished and tapped out and, if I’m being honest, on the brink of death. Nowhere are the beautiful habitats Marcus has upstairs.

  “We have to go.” Leon sounds worried.

  “Yeah. Just one second.” I tap the keyboard on the computer next to the mermaid’s tank, and it glows to life. I groan in frustration at the password prompt. “Fuck.” I start to type in Marcus’ last name, in the off chance that he’s stupid enough to use that.

  But Leon stops me. “Don’t. He might have some sort of notification set up so that if someone attempts to log in with an incorrect password he gets an alert.”

  “Leon. We need to know what’s on this computer. We need to know what’s going on here.” I look back toward the lovely mermaid, her head drooping down toward her chest as she gently floats in the strange, almost surreal tank.

  “I can probably figure out what server his computer’s on and most likely get you in. But now? We need to go.”

  As if on cue, my watch beeps once, our half hour is up. “Yeah. Fine.” I head to the door, then turn back to the tank. For one second I shut my eyes, not to signal in to anything, but just to make a silent promise to her. I’ll get you out of here. Hang on.

  And then we leave.

  We’re silent for the first half of the car drive back to my apartment. Then Leon asks, “So, if they were all drugged and shit, how come their signals to you were so loud?”

  Good fucking question. “I don’t know.” I’ve tried it before with the tranquilized captures just to experiment, and their signals, when under like that, are weak to nonexistent.

  Except for the ones I’d inadvertently injured.

  “They must be hurting. The only time I’ve gotten signals from the sleeping cryptids before is if they’d been stabbed or were bleeding or were physically harmed in some way. Do you know what that means, Leon?” Anger surges through me. “It means that all those creatures in there? All of them are in pain. They’re suffering. And they’re being drugged so much that they can’t complain or respond or react. Fuck, Leon. You need to get me into that server tomorrow so we can figure out what’s going on.”

  “Okay. I can do that. Stupid question, Thea, but what if we just ask Marcus about Floor Zero?”

  Why indeed? For some reason I can’t articulate, I know Marcus is hiding it because he’s up to no good. In bigger ways than we can even imagine right now.

  “Just . . . I don’t know. Let’s just give it a day and see what we can find out, okay?”

  “Yup.”

  “Thanks, Leon,” I say as he pulls up in front of my building.

  “Any time.”

  I know he means it.

  I go inside and fall onto my bed without even getting out of my clothes. I don’t wake up till morning.

  The smell of coffee arouses me up. And my ancient coffee maker doesn’t have that pre-programming option.

  I spring up, silently and quickly, and cross my bedroom to the door, which is cracked open. Slowly so it doesn’t creak I open it until I can peer down the hallway and into the kitchenette.

  Fucking Foster.

  Standing there in jeans and a tight black T-shirt, making himself at home in my kitchen. Brewing my coffee. Like I invited him in or something. The fact is, though, that he broke in. Or snuck in. Or whatever the fuck it is vampires do to get inside places without being noticed. The only good part about him being so stealthy is that Mrs. Bachman won’t get on my case about having a guy over.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  He whips around. “Morning, Sunshine.” He winks at me, one gorgeous, sexy sparkling eye closing and opening as he grins.

  “What are you doing here?” I repeat.

  “Making you coffee. Black, right?” He pours some of the beautiful liquid into a mug and carries it over to me.

  The scent of the coffee mixed with his cool, minty smell, and the faint air of cologne makes me swoon. Without taking
the mug I walk past him and sit down at the small kitchen table. He follows, setting the mug in front of me. I wrap my hands around it, luxuriating in the warmth against my palms, the cool emanating from his body.

  “Can you even be out during the day?” I grumble, trying not to let him know how much I appreciate the coffee.

  “What? Like you think I’d shrivel up and die in sunlight?” He scoffs. “You’ve been watching too many movies. Anyway, what did you do last night?” he asks, pulling out a chair across from me and sitting down. He leans forward, elbows on the table, and rests his chin on one of his fists as he gazes casually at me. Too casually.

  I sip the coffee. “Sounds like you already know.”

  “Jesus, Thea. What you did was fucking dangerous!”

  “Um, if I recall correctly, you’re the one who suggested I go exploring. You’re the one who refused to tell me what was down there and insisted I needed to see for myself.”

  He sits back, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right. I did. But things are fucked up, Thea.”

  “You’re telling me? The shit I saw last night . . .” I shiver, thinking of that mermaid. The centaur. All the creatures drugged and malnourished. “We need to get them out. How did you know they were there? Have you been inside?”

  “I have.” Foster shuts his eyes for a moment. “I’ve been inside more than once. I could hear them. They haunted me, drew me in, until I couldn’t stay away. It’s easy for me to get in places. But to get them out . . . that would take breaking down doors. Walls. Setting off alarms. I couldn’t do it alone.”

  “So that’s why you hooked up with me?” Anger—and disappointment—shoot through me.

  “Hold up, Thea.” Foster puts his hands up in defense. “You’re the one who started stalking me. Remember? I didn’t seek you out until I figured out I was being followed.”

  “And once you realized I could sense you, could sense creatures, you decided I’d be useful in helping set your, what, friends free?” I feel like I’m being irrational, but I can’t stop. I need whiskey, not coffee.