The City on the Edge
Twenty-five

Varice led them back through the tunnels, which seemed like a much tighter squeeze now with all of them present, not too mention the added anxiety from the additional noises of a dozen frightened witches. The White Guard hadn’t slowed in their search of the manor and every few minutes it seemed like they were stopping to wait for a group of guards to pass while trying to keep as silent as they could within the walls. If the White Guard found out where they were hiding, they’d be easy targets.

Malik kept checking his magic every few steps, anticipating that it would return to normal the further he got from the witchlight. When he held out his hand, yellow magic crackled weakly between his fingers before flickering out.

“Almost,” he whispered to Anya. A trickle of black sludge oozed from the corner of her mouth. Malik wiped at it with his sleeve.

“Where do we go from here?” Lorna asked Varice.

“There’s a servants entrance that leads outside. From there, you witches can get us through the fence. You’ll be far away from the witchlight by then.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Ronnie said.

“And then what?” Malik grumbled. “Sloan is still taking innocent people and doing this to them.” He gazed down at Anya sadly.

“We’ll figure it out when we get there,” Lorna answered. “Our priority right now is getting out of this gods forsaken manor.” She grabbed Ronnie’s hand and squeezed. “Together.”

Ronnie glanced over her shoulder at Sebastian, but he was pointedly not looking at her. She frowned, unsure of why it bothered her.

A moan, low and grating, vibrated down the tunnel. Varice froze in place and Malik nearly bumped into her. Ronnie sucked in a breath. She knew that sound.

“What is it?” Malik asked.

Varice shook her head but Ronnie breathed out the answer, “Ghouls.”

At the end of the tunnel, silhouetted against the darkness, towered the imposing form of a ghoul. It hunched over, too tall for the tunnel it had managed to crawl in. Had it somehow discovered the entrance in the dining room?

“Watch out for reapers!” Ronnie hissed to the witches behind her.

The shadows swirled around them, her words coming too late. Red and grey eyes were popping open like stars against the sky, staring at the group from all angles. Behind them, someone screamed. Everyone whirled around just in time to see an older witch, a woman Ronnie didn’t know, get dragged into the darkness. Her fingernails broke off in bloody tears as she clawed uselessly at the stone floor. The shadows swallowed her up with a gut wrenching crunch of bone.

“Run!” Ronnie shouted.

“This way,” Varice ran toward the ghoul but turned sharply to the side. She kicked at a cut out spot on the wall, but it didn’t budge. An old blocked entrance.

“Let me try.” Ronnie came up behind her, pushed her aside and charged at the wall with as much force as she could in the narrow space. She tore through something thin and landed with a thud outside of the wall.

Ronnie peered over her shoulder, she’d come through the portrait of some human she didn’t recognize. Varice climbed out after her, followed by Malik, Lorna, Sebastian and the other witches in a frantic panic. The last witch, a young boy with dark hair, was nearly through when long fingers shot out from the darkness and wrapped around his face, pulling him back into the tunnel.

Lorna made to go after him as he screamed for help, but Malik stopped her. “It’s too late for him. We need to think of our own safety.”

“But-”

“He’s right. The guards will have heard us by now,” Varice said. “We need to head to servants entrance before-”

An arm erupted out of the torn portrait, grabbing Varice by her hair and digging long fingers into her scalp. She shrieked as the arm tugged her to the hole. The ghoul’s face hovered there, seemingly suspended in shadows and surrounded by reapers. Their red eyes blinked behind the monster, eager for their next meal.

“Help!” she pleaded.

A few of the witches took in the situation and decided to cut their losses. Lorna grabbed at them as they fled down the hall, but they slipped from her hands.

“Cowards!” she yelled after them as the retreated around a corner.

Ronnie darted over to her, grabbing where the ghoul’s fingers tangled in her hair and pulled. Varice whimpered at the fierce tug on her scalp. Ronnie wished she had claws. Instead, she held up the loose shackle, opened it wide and brought the sharp edge down on the ghoul’s arm and hand. Sebastian and Lorna joined in at her side. Sebastian brought both his fists down on the stretch of the ghouls arm while Lorna wrapped her arms around Varice, holding her firmly in place.

The ghoul moaned at them, the sound broken and almost sad. Behind it, the reapers chittered and clicked their sharp teeth together. Ronnie brought the cuff down and managed to hack a chunk of grey flesh from the ghoul’s arm. It fell to the plush carpet with the wet slept of inky black blood.

Varice howled as the ghoul tightened its grip on her scalp, continuing as if it hadn’t felt a thing. Ronnie wondered frantically if it even felt pain. What would that mean for Anya?

Sebastian broke away from them and grabbed the broken portrait instead. He wrenched the torn canvas out of the frame and tossed it to the floor. He came back with the side of the wooden frame in hand, splintered and sharp with small nails. He held the broken frame up high over his head and brought it down on the ghoul’s wound. Once. Twice.

The nails tore into the grey skin, ripping it away in chunks. On the third time, the ghoul’s wrist snapped and released Varice’s hair. It bent awkwardly and hung limp from the rest of the arm. The ghoul didn’t even flinch as it pulled its useless hand into the dark tunnel.

Varice righted herself, holding a hand to her sore scalp. Tears welled up in her eyes and she sobbed into Lorna’s welcome embrace. Ronnie took a moment to consider just how young she was. Varice was a clever girl, but she was still just a girl. A child. Far too young to live like this.

“We don’t have time to stop,” Malik reminded them.

Already, they could hear the stomping boots of a White Guard patrol coming for them, alerted by the commotion. The alarm continued to blare around them, keeping the manor in a state of total chaos. Ronnie could feel their window of escape closing.

“What about the others?” Lorna asked, motioning down the corridor after the other witches.

“Forget them,” Malik all but growled. “Only a coward abandons their own kind.”

Though the words weren’t meant for her, they still twisted in Ronnie’s gut like a knife. She thought about the dungeon and the other shifters she’d left behind. She thought about the ribbon in her pocket. The right thing to do would be to go back to the dungeon and free Cecily so that she could find her mother on her own. Bitterly, Ronnie knew there wasn’t time for the right thing. She tried not to think about the young shifter sitting down in that dark cell all alone, with only an alarm and the bodies of dead shifters to keep her company until she inevitably followed after them.

Varice took them down the opposite direction, leading them near the kitchen, but turning just before they reached it. The door she opened revealed another staircase and Ronnie was about to ask if it was another dungeon, but Varice seemed to know what she was thinking.

“It’s a cellar,” she explained. “It has the servant’s entrance. It will take us out into the gardens.”

“Good. That might provide us with some cover,” Malik said, hefting Anya a little higher in his arms before stomping down the steps.

Lorna made to follow him, but stopped when several voices suddenly filtered into the hall. Guards were coming.

“Hide over there!” Varice closed the door, pointing to an alcove nearly hidden behind a potted plant. She grabbed Lorna’s hand and pushed her behind one of the heavy drapes that skirted the floor. Ronnie hoped the thick fabric would hide them.

Sebastian nudged Ronnie to the alcove and slipped in behind her. They wedged themselves back into the shadows as far as they could. The large petals and leaves didn’t completely hide them, but no one would notice them unless they were looking. Hopefully, the guards were just quickly passing by.

Ronnie breathed out slowly, trying to calm her nerves. Sebastian’s fingers tickled at the palm of her hand and she looked up at him. He stood just a inch or so shorter than her, nearly eye level. It’s okay, he mouthed at her silently. She nodded and breathed deep. His scent, sweet like sugar, filled her lungs. She’d gotten whiffs of it in passing before, but now, with him pressed up against her, she could identify it fully. It carried his natural odor and teased at his fear and desire, all swirled in a sweet and sour mess like a decadent dessert.

With each breath he pulled in, he took something from her. An energy vital to her, and with each exhale, he gave it back with a piece of himself. It dawned on Ronnie that an exchange was taking place. Deep in her core, where her instincts lay solid and ancient, something sparked to life, something warm and comforting. Looking into Sebastian’s eyes and the way they seemed to glow, she knew he felt it too.

She should be panicking. She should be pulling away. A permanent change was taking place and she couldn’t stop it. Deep down, she didn’t want to.

This is natural and good, her instincts told her. This is necessary. This is fate.

Sebastian gripped her other hand and pulled both to his chest. He gazed at her, open mouthed and awe struck, as if she were the most incredible thing he’d ever seen. Ronnie was distantly aware that people were walking past them in a rush of white cloth, but she paid them no mind. She couldn’t pull away.

Ronnie watched as the blue in Sebastian’s eyes swirled like a pool of water on a rainy day, only to be overtaken by a rush of liquid silver. The change of color should have alarmed her, normally it would have, but she just watched the silver and blue bleed together.

“Silver and gold,” Sebastian whispered absently.

“What?”

“Your eyes.” He stared at her adoringly, the barest hint of a smile on his lips.

She wondered what the two of them must look like together. Human and shifter. Wealth and poverty. He pressed in suddenly and brushed his lips over hers with barest pressure- not a kiss, but a hesitant exploration, a silent plea for permission. Instantly, something foreign jerked hard in Ronnie’s chest and she gasped, mirrored by Sebastian who jerked back with a quick inhale. Sensation bloomed behind her ribs, spreading through her body with a sudden heat that settled down into her core, nestling in and taking shape like a cloud taking form in the sky.

New feelings formed, electric and bold, tingling through her body and circulating through her veins. She was suddenly very aware of every breath Sebastian took as if she were taking it herself. A cord had formed between them now, pulled taut and vibrating with shared vitality. Sebastian raised his hand and gently pressed it to her chest. He held it there, a wondrous expression on his face and Ronnie knew he was coming to same realization.

Ever since she was a little girl, certain tales were told among shifters of the romantic and the impossible. At least, it had seemed that way but looking at Sebastian now and feeling every sensation that flooded her body and senses, Ronnie knew it must be true. The stories told by gossiping old women with pleasant memories in their golden eyes had been rooted in truth after all.

She and Sebastian had imprinted.

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