If Ronnie and Sebastian had expected a more prominent force of white coats in the house, they were happy to be proven wrong. Sloan appeared to have kept the majority of his patrol outside, waiting for Ronnie and Sebastian, like he knew they would come eventually. The man wasn’t stupid, Ronnie would give him that much.

The two of them crept down the hall, side by side. The guards were clustered together in the sitting room, rifles trained on the family, ready to put a bullet through them at the first sign of trouble. Ronnie bit her lip, coming to a stop just outside the door. This wouldn’t be easy. They were in plain view of the front windows. At any moment, Sloan and his patrol outside could see them and storm the house. She was absolutely certain there would be no mercy for her family. Sloan had already proven that he had no qualms about killing children. All in the name of Purity.

Her rising anger and desperation were quickly swept up in a current of soothing calm. Sebastian pressed close, his hand on her arm, his lips to her ear.

“Calm down. Don’t panic. All we have to do is free the witches. They’ll help with the rest, right?” he whispered.

She nodded. Her sharp eyes scanned Malik, who sat closest to her. His wrists shone with the intricately carved gold bands that she’d worn in Sloan’s manor. No magic until those bands were off. Ronnie craned her head around the corner, peering into the room fully. A guard at the back of the room had a set of gold keys hanging from his belt. Those had to be for the shackles. Ronnie’s gaze carried over her family. It looked as though only Malik and Constance were shackled. Perhaps the White Guard didn’t see the children as a threat.

Their mistake.

“I have an idea,” Ronnie murmured over her shoulder. “There are three vampire children, a little witch, and two shifters in that room without shackles. A guard at the back has the keys. If I cause a distraction, you can nab the keys and unlock Malik and Constance.”

Sebastian’s face was marred with everything that could go wrong with her plan. Even she could admit there was a lot of room for error, but options were limited and he knew that. Finally, he nodded, raising himself to a crouch and balancing on the balls of his feet, ready to spring up and move when she did.

“Whatever happens,” he whispered suddenly, “I am glad to have had this experience with you, Ronnie.”

She smiled over her shoulder at him, lifting a hand to trail her fingers down his cheek. He always felt so soft. “Me too.”

She turned back to the room and took a deep breath. Her claws pushed out from her fingers and with a growl that rumbled through the hall, she jumped to her feet, launching herself into the room at the nearest guard. The chaos was immediate. Rifles were brought up and bullets fired, hitting nothing but old wood and glass photo frames on the wall.

They were close though, as Ronnie ducked beneath the arc of a sword and the butt of a swinging rifle. Her speed wasn’t as useful in enclosed spaces. There wasn’t enough room to build up any momentum. She still had her strength, though, as she grabbed a guard around the waist and threw him out of the room. Sebastian ducked around the doorway and made his way toward the lone guard at the back, who saw him coming and raised a sword.

Gage, with all the strength a shifter pup could manage, latched on to the guard’s leg and bit down hard, blood blossoming over the white fabric.

The guard yelled, shaking his leg and batted down at Gage. Sebastian took advantage of the distraction and tore the keys from the guard’s belt. He swiped the sword from the guard’s grasp, raising his hand up and bringing the hilt down on the guard’s temple. The large man dropped and Sebastian gave him a swift kick across the face for good measure.

A guard fired and Ronnie shrieked as a bullet tore through her arm, just above her elbow. It burned, but it had only grazed the surface. She slashed out with her claws, raking them across the unlucky woman’s throat. Outside, Sloan was marching forward with his patrol to end the small uprising in the sitting room. Ronnie looked over her shoulder, meeting his impossibly cold stare.

“Sebastian!”

They were running out of time.

“Get over here, human!” Malik shouted, holding out his wrists.

Sebastian fumbled with the keys, finally getting them into the lock and twisting. The shackles clicked open and fell to the floor with a clatter. Malik flexed his fingers, veins lighting up under his dark skin. He whipped out an arm, magic loosing like a lasso and wrapping around two guards advancing on Teri and Tara as they they cowered together.

With an audible heave, Malik flung the guards out the front windows, sending them to Sloan’s feet in a shower of glass. “That’s better,” Malik grinned.

“You-” A guard charged at Malik, sword ready to cleave his head off his shoulders. Just as he brought the sword down, a tendril of white wrapped around his wrist. The guard turned.

“Get out of my house!” Lorna shouted, whipping her white magic around the guard and sending him out the hole Malik had made.

“Lorna!” Constance gasped, nearly crying with relief.

“You and me,” Malik called, beckoning her over. “Let’s get these pests out of our home.”

Lorna joined Malik in the center of the room. They face each other, holding their hands up, palms touching. Yellow and white arced around them, crackling like a lightning storm. It spun around them, faster and faster, causing the dusty air of the sitting room to whirl around tightly between them. With a yell, they both opened their arms wide, sending the maelstrom of magic out like a wave.

Ronnie felt it whip past her harmlessly, but it hit every human in the room, including Sebastian, sending them crashing into the nearest wall with enough force to crack the wood. The remaining few guards didn’t get back up, lying limp on the floor.

“Sorry about him,” Malik said as Ronnie pushed past him, hurrying to Sebastian’s side. He wasn’t unconscious, miraculously, but a lump the size of Ronnie’s fist was already rising on the back of his head.

“Don’t be sorry,” Sebastian slurred, sitting up with Ronnie’s help. “It was necessary.”

Malik had the decency to at least look apologetic. “Thanks for your help.”

Sebastian handed the keys to Ronnie. “No thanks needed.”

Ronnie tossed the keys to Lorna, who hurried too unlock her sister’s shackles. “Well done. For a human,” she teased, pushing Sebastian’s gold lock from his eyes. “Let’s not do it again sometime.”

“Don’t get comfy,” Malik warned, his attention on the patrol lined up outside. “They aren’t finished.”

Ronnie braced Sebastian as he climbed to his feet. “I think he wants us outside,” he said. “He knows we can’t hide in here.”

“I’m a shifter, Sebastian. We don’t hide. We hunt.”

***

The White Guard had formed a wall of white coats, too bright in the night. The sun had finally set behind the hills and Ronnie hoped it would offer them some kind of advantage. Humans weren’t equipped to see in the dark like shifters and vampires, a fact made clear when Sebastian nearly tripped down the front steps. Ronnie clutched his hand tight, offering him whatever strength she could through their bond.

I can take your emotions. Please be able to take my power, she thought desperately.

Malik and Lorna waited on the porch, ready to jump in and help in any way they could. Sebastian had convinced them that this would be a parlay of sorts. It was how humans did things. Each show of fortitude was met with a new set of terms. Nothing would change though, everyone knew. Sloan wanted Ronnie and Sebastian and he wasn’t going to leave without them, dead or alive.

Sloan stood on the dirt road, in front of his prison carriage, plucking at imaginary filth on his coat collar. “Are you done with this demonstration?”

Ronnie grit her teeth. His men were lying at his feet, covered in blood and singed with magic and he acted as though he were the victor. She gazed at the number of guards left with a sinking feeling that made her unclench her jaw.

Maybe they hadn’t won anything. They were still outnumbered.

“What do you really want from us, Sloan? At least give us the courtesy of honesty,” Sebastian said.

“I speak for Purity and the King family legacy,” Sloan answered in a booming voice that carried across the fields. “We only seek to restore balance and order to a world populated by abominations.”

“Is that why you locked magic away?”

“We took the necessary steps. Magic polluted the world, creating unnatural creatures. It is only a matter of time before it’s destroyed for good.” Sloan snapped his fingers and the guards behind him moved as one, bringing their rifles up. “However, as you are unable to offer any aid to our cause, there is no further need to keep you around. Consider this a mercy.”

At the click of rifle bolts, Sebastian wrapped his arms around Ronnie and held her against his chest, turning his back to Sloan, shielding her uselessly. There was no where for them to go. They’d never dodge the bullets. Lorna cried out and a flare of yellow magic erupted to life on the porch, but it would never reach them in time. Ronnie clenched her eyes shut and waited, tense and clinging to Sebastian, for the bullets to rip through her. She waited for the unmistakable click of a trigger being pulled. She waited for the pain.

Nothing.

Cautiously, she cracked open her eyes. Sloan had paused, hand still in the air, a kill command on hold, to stare at something across the field.

“What is that?” asked a guard.

“More shifters. They cannot help you now,” Sloan said. “I will not suffer the two of you any longer. Prepare to-”

A piercing howl silenced Sloan before he could finish. A howl that sounded very familiar, reverberating down in Ronnie’s bones and poking at the beast that lay caged beneath her skin. She pushed away from Sebastian, peering around him to the trees.

A figure emerged from the tree line, wading through the tall grass, followed by another smaller figure trailing after. Sloan was wrong. They weren’t shifters. The glow of the moon caught the red of their eyes, even across the distance, and Ronnie could see the glowing cracks of their skin and smell the odor of ash they brought with them. With another bellowing howl, both figures burst into flame, an explosion of power and rage.

“What kind of shifters are those?” a guard yelled, taking several steps back as the burning men began to charge.

“They aren’t shifters.” Ronnie couldn’t keep the glee out of her voice as she turned to Sloan. “They’re hellhounds.”

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