The City on the Edge
Forty-two

Through the years, the White Guard had proven themselves capable of containing each supernatural and their abilities, either through their own force or the help of their allies, the dwarves and the elves. However, no enchanted shackles or vast library of knowledge was going to save them from the two hellhounds burning their way across the fields.

Ignis moved with the speed of a vampire running from the sun, launching himself up into the air and sending down as much fire as he could. The ball of flames hit the road, sending the guardsmen scattering. Sebastian threw himself back, taking Ronnie with him, and they landed together in the grass. Flames billowed over them like comets shooting across the sky. The guardsmen scattered, unprepared for the onslaught of fire and claw that came rushing at them.

“Cowards!” Sloan shouted at them as Ignis and his companion burned their way through rifle and sword.

Ronnie watched in amazement as every bullet the entered Ignis’ body exited in a trickle of molten metal. Every cut of the sword across his body burned brightly, sealing back up as if he never sustained injury.

Suddenly, it made perfect sense to Ronnie why Alukorra wanted the hellhounds in her rebellion. If this was just two of them, what would the whole pack be like? Alukorra could raze her way to the Marble City and burn right through those walls. She’d be unstoppable.

Malik and Lorna hopped over the side of the porch, running into the field. In his haste to get to Sloan, Ignis had set the fields ablaze, though Ronnie suspected he didn’t much care. Malik and Lorna swept their magic over the grass, extinguishing the flames before they could reach the house.

“Are you going to help?” Ignis called over his shoulder, pinning Ronnie with his burning eyes.

Ronnie set her jaw. She most certainly was.

She climbed to her feet, claws out and fangs bared as she charged at the only target worth the effort- Sloan. He saw her coming and raised his sword, blocking the brute force behind her razor tip claws. He slashed out at the her, but she leaned back, narrowly avoiding the small blade he still carried.

“This time,” he snarled at her, “I will leave with Sebastian’s head. I will make sure to drive this blade into that traitor’s chest!”

Ronnie kicked out, barely catching Sloan at his knee and bringing him to the ground. She raised her hand high over her head as he kneeled before her, already feeling his soft skin part under her claws. As she brought her hand down, catching Sloan at the temple, she felt a sharp pain race down her leg.

The two of them parted, stumbling back and bleeding. Ronnie clutched at the wound on her leg where Sloan’s knife had cut deeply right through her pants. He glared at her, a hand to his face, red blood seeping into his white glove. Whatever he was going to say was stopped by the cling of metal on stone. Ronnie dropped her eyes to the road, just in time to see something silver roll to a stop between them.

The disc!

Sloan had cut right through her pocket. He eyed the disc, recognition fluttering over his icy expression before his lips split into a haunting smile.

“So, that’s the plan. I see now.” He raised his eyes to her. “It looks like you have use, after all.” He grunted as he forced himself to his feet. He leveled his sword at her, blood trickling down the side of his face. “Congratulations, my dear. You just became valuable.”

Ronnie tried to step back, but her leg protested, the cut much deeper than she thought. The muscles jumped under the hard press of her fingers, demanding a moment of stillness so that they could heal. Ronnie glanced back up at Sloan, advancing on her with renewed purpose.

“Ronnie!”

She could hear Sebastian calling for her over the fighting, but her leg refused to move, cut muscles still sluggishly stitching back together. Sloan lashed out, grabbing her hair in his long fingers and pulling. Her leg gave out as he pulled her toward the prison carriage. She swiped at him blindly with her claws, cutting at his wrist and tearing away chunks of tender flesh, but he didn’t release her. She screamed and snarled and gnashed her fangs, accomplishing nothing.

“Ronnie,” Sebastian shouted. He tried to force his way past the burned bodies of the White Guard, but they were still willing to fight, to follow their captain’s orders, even on the brink of death.

Ignis blew past Sebastian, taking the guards to the ground in a torrent of flame. Screams burned under the simmering pile of skin and cloth as Ignis held the flailing bodies down.

Sloan reached the carriage and wrenched the door open. He hauled Ronnie up by her hair. She grit her teeth, hissing at him while tears flooded her eyes.

No. She would not cry in front of this man.

“I hope this carriage still smells of your witch. You will be following in her steps,” Sloan spat at her, spittle flecking her cheeks.

Ronnie braced herself, tensing her body for the painful slide across the scratched metal floor of the carriage, but she was suddenly dropped to the ground as Sloan released her. She landed on her wounded leg, hissing and clutching at the gouge. She looked up, expecting to see Sloan baring down on her, maybe even changing his mind about keeping her alive. Instead, she saw Jack’s familiar face smiling down at her.

“You look terrible, doll,” he said, crouching down to inspect her wound.

“What? What are you doing here? Where’s Sloan?” What was happening?

Jack pointed past the carriage. Sloan, a horrible sight in his dirty bloodstained coat, was slowly picking himself up off the ground. “It would seem I got here just in time. I couldn’t leave you here to fight Sloan by yourself.”

“No,” Sloan spit, “I will not be bested here. I will not lose to you animals!”

Jack leaned over Ronnie, ready to shield her with his body. Sloan staggered toward them, sword over his head. He brought it down with a manic yell but Sebastian appeared next to her, finally, with a guardsman’s sword in hand. He cut up while Sloan cut down and they met in the middle, Sebastian’s sword cutting cleanly through Sloan’s wrist.

He stumbled back with a shout, clutching the bleeding stump to his chest. His sword clattered the ground, his fingers still twitching around the hilt. Sebastian stood tall, a figure of defiance, brandishing the sword at Sloan, an unspoken threat and warning- get back.

To the shock of everyone, Sloan heeded him.

He turned from them and made his way to the great beast that sat attached to the carriage. It pranced and stomped, already nervous from the fire and the fighting. Sloan unhitched the creature and climbed onto its back.

He looked back at Ronnie. “This battle means nothing. It’s merely a superficial win for you. I know what you’re up to now. Purity will be prepared.” He snapped the reigns, bringing the beast forward. “You will never make it too Taven Talos before us. I will tear out his claws one by one and wear them around my neck!” With that, Sloan kicked the beast in the side and rode off down the hill.

The remaining guardsmen took in the scene- from the broken and bloody leftovers of their comrades to the hand that Sloan left behind. Ignis stepped up to them, arms spread wide, flames licking across every inch of his bare body. He smiled wide, sharp teeth inviting them to try and fight. Outmatched and outmaneuvered, the few soldiers left, following their captain down the hill.

Ronnie struggled to sit up, Sebastian supporting her shoulders. “We need to go after him! We can’t just let him leave!”

Jack grabbed her arm, easing her up. “Easy, doll!”

“Ronnie, stop.” Sebastian did his best to hold her still. “The fight’s over for now. The White Guard is either dead or gone.”

“Sloan is still alive,” she ground out.

Sebastian cupped her cheeks, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Think of your family. The reason for all of this. This fight is over. You can relax. You’re still here. Your family is still here.” He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “Everyone made it. You did good.”

Jack watched with a thoughtful expression, morose and reminiscent. “You really are just like your father. I can only imagine what your witch feels like.”

Sebastian helped Ronnie to her feet. “Probably not the best time,” he said, glaring at Jack.

“Maybe not, but we do need to leave. Alukorra is still expecting-”

“I don’t care,” Ronnie growled. “I can’t help but notice that she and the rest of her rebellion are absent. After everything she’s done, after everything she’s had us do for her, she couldn’t be bothered to help protect my family?” She reached out and shoved Jack. “There’s your precious disc.” She pointed to silver circle on the ground. “Take it and this and get away from me.” She dug the gate key out of her still whole pocket and threw it at him.

Jack frowned at her, but bent down and scooped up both keys, sliding them into the pocket of his coat. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Ronnie turned away from him, a growl rolling around in her throat like loose gravel.

Sebastian helped her limp to the porch, where her family waited, warily watching the two hellhounds now standing nude on the steps. Lorna and Constance weren’t sitting outside, she noticed as she climbed up the stairs. Malik was there in a second, taking her other arm.

“Everyone is inside. Hazel finally woke up,” he whispered. “They got her pretty good with something. Put her out like a light. She doesn’t want the kids to see all of that.” He nodded his head back to the bodies lying in the yard, some of them still smoking.

Ronnie nodded. She fully supported sparing the young ones from the gruesome sight.

“What about us?” Ignis asked as they passed.

“Come inside, I guess,” Ronnie answered.

“Pants are apparently optional,” Malik grumbled.

Ronnie managed to make it through the door without much trouble, only banging her injured leg once. She dug her claws into both Malik and Sebastian, but they took the damage like champs, not once flinching as her claws pierced their shoulders like needles.

“By the goddess!” Lorna gasped. “Ronnie!”

The witch was at her side in an instant, shooing Malik and Sebastian away and letting Ronnie sink into the cushions of the reconstructed bench, hastily repaired with magic, no doubt. Lorna peeled back the fabric of her pants, wincing when she saw the wound.

“I’ll get some water and heal that right up.”

Sebastian lingered at her side, unsure of what to do as the family picked up the pieces of their home. The battle had left the room in shambles, but thankfully, they weren’t burying anyone else.

Hazel sat in her chair against the fireplace, looking more tired and withered than Ronnie had ever seen her. The children darted around, sweeping up glass and fixing their home as best they could. Ronnie figured Malik would give it a once over with his magic when the little ones all retired for the night.

Hazel didn’t say anything. She simply sat in her rickety chair and surveyed the damage, her eyes wandering outside where the smoldering remains of Sloan’s patrol lay in the grass. She turned her gaze back to Ronnie, taking in the blood and dirt that covered nearly every inch of her. Her eyes settled on the way Sebastian’s fingers were entwined with hers, holding tight as if he felt she might disappear without him there to anchor her.

“Remember what that’s like?”

Ronnie turned to the voice. Jack leaned against the doorway, spinning the disc between his fingers lazily.

“Remember what?” she asked.

“I wasn’t talking to you, doll.” He glanced over at Hazel. She met his stare with one of her own, one that held more sadness than Ronnie thought possible. Had something happened between them?

“What are you-”

“When that heals,” Jack interrupted, “will you be ready to come back to the Rust?”

Lorna pushed past Jack, a bowl of water in her hands. She knelt down in front of Ronnie and pulled the water from the bowl in fat drop glowing white, settling them on the wound. Ronnie expected it to hurt, but the coolness eased the tense muscle nicely and she relaxed into the cushions.

“Why do I have to go back to the Rust?” she asked stubbornly even though she already knew the answer.

“Sloan is going to the Iron City. He’s going after your father.” Jack said firmly, as if he couldn’t believe he actually had to ask Ronnie to give a damn about her own flesh and blood. “He will kill him.”

“I don’t owe him anything.” Even as she spoke, she could uncertainty settling in her gut. Sebastian’s uncertainty. He wanted her to go after her father. She looked at him, daring him to say what he was feeling out loud, but he remained silent, meeting her eyes with his own unflinching stare.

“This is about your mother.” Jack raked his fingers through his hair. “He didn’t kill her. She’s still alive, Veronica.”

Lorna stopped what she was doing, glancing up at Ronnie. “Ronnie…”

“Liva said the same thing. No one wants to tell me where she is, though.” Ronnie waited, boring into Jack with an angry expression. He caved, looking down at his feet. “I thought so. Why is it such a secret?”

“It was for you, Veronica,” Hazel answered, her voice tired and worn. “Your family is made up of pieces that shouldn’t fit together. That weren’t allowed to fit together, but they did anyway. Your mother and father are not the same race. They weren’t both shifters.”

Ronnie’s lungs suddenly refused to work. She’d been expecting a mother who was arrested. A mother who was burned beyond recognition. She’d been mulling the possibilities for why her mother stayed away if she was alive since Liva had planted the idea in her mind. She thought she’d covered everything.

Apparently not. She was not expecting that.

“I’m a…” she couldn’t speak the word.

“Hybrid,” Hazel finished.

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