The Rust was a dead district of bare skeleton structures and twisted iron fingers. Once the property of an industrious engineer and abandoned after Marla’s Battle, it became home to those who broke the law and those betrayed by it. Scrappers visited often to strip the bare buildings of what was left. It wasn’t a place for a young shifter without his senses.

“Do you smell him?” Lorna asked as she looked around cautiously.

Ronnie didn’t look at her. “I’ll let you know when I do.” The words growled out of her chest. She didn’t mean to bite, but her blood was still pumping angrily.

“Hey! Snap those fangs at someone else.” Lorna huffed. “You were wrong to bring up Gloria and you know it.”

“Was I also wrong for saving someone’s life? You know,” Ronnie turned on her, “with your help?”

“I helped you because if I hadn’t you would have charged in anyway and gotten yourself hurt. Maybe you should listen to Malik for once. He knows from experience that humans are dangerous.”

Ronnie shook her head and focused on the town. If it could be called that. The dorms that once held employees were little more than cold warehouses. The district had blossomed during Marla’s Battle, manufacturing weapons and armor for the supernaturals that refused to kneel for the humans. When they lost, the Premier, leader of the humans, had ordered the place ransacked and abandoned.

It was like walking through a corpse, picked clean by scavengers. Many of the iron structures had become lost under layers of red and orange rust, like a cold metal fire. Debris from crumbling walls and collapsed forges littered the stone walkways. Sheets of thin metal quivered with the stiff breeze that blew through the empty streets.

It seemed much darker here than it should be. The moon hung half full in the sky, but even so, even with Ronnie’s sight, the streets seemed impossibly dim. The only reprieve from the encompassing shadows was Lorna’s light, which shone from the wispy ball the hovered over her palm.

Ronnie raised her head and sniffed the air. It was stale and heavy with the stench of mold and metal. It wasn’t quite as bad as the odor of Poor Street in the market, but it was close. She grimaced, but inhaled deeply as she turned in place, taking in scents from every direction.

Finally, a trickle of pine and wood bled through the haze. Liam.

“I think I’ve got him,” Ronnie said over her shoulder.

“Oh, thank the goddess,” Lorna sighed. “We can grab him and go home. I hate this place.”

Something moved ahead of them. Lorna didn’t seem to notice it, but Ronnie caught the motion. Even if she couldn’t see it exactly, her eyes tracked the shape through the dark.

“Wait,” she said quietly, holding out an arm in front of Lorna.

“What is it?” Lorna whispered.

Ronnie kept her eyes on the black shadow that didn’t quite blend in with the rest of them. Whoever it was, they were tall. Ronnie gave a sniff in their direction. Pine. Apprehension bloomed in her chest like a thorny flower. This most definitely wasn’t Liam. She didn’t want to guess as to why they smelled like him, but her mind conjured up an image of the young shifter, trapped and injured. Maybe dead. Being fed on by whatever monster lurked through these streets.

She quelled the thoughts and took a step toward the figure, but before her foot hit the ground, the tall shadow darted aside, leaving a dark lump of something on the street. Ronnie launched into a run, with Lorna right behind her. Her white light swung back and forth as she ran, but Ronnie’s eyes didn’t need it. They were locked onto the misshapen heap on the ground, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t Liam.

Thankfully, it wasn’t. Ronnie reached the spot and bent down, sliding just so across the loose gravel as she scooped up a brown coat that had been dropped there. She ran a hand over a red patch on the sleeve. It was Liam’s. Constance had sewn this patch on. She raised her head to surveyed the area, her eyes taking in everything they could, looking for the little pale face with a mop of tangled hair, but Liam was no where in sight.

“Is that his?” Lorna panted as she caught up to Ronnie.

“Yeah, it is.” Ronnie held it to her nose. Pine. Distress. Fear. The sour feelings burned in her nose and sent her adrenaline skyrocketing at the thought of what could have caused these emotions to pour out from the young shifter.

Lorna held the light up so she could better see the coat. Her fair features were pale in the white light. Her brow furrowed and her eyes darted across the coat. Ronnie knew what she was looking for.

“I don’t smell any blood.” She hoped it would offer some comfort to the witch.

“What do you smell?”

“He’s afraid, but alive. At least when he was wearing this.”

Lorna took it from her. While she examined it, Ronnie glanced around again, her skin prickling with the feeling that something, or someone, was near. They were on a main street, wider than the skinny gravel path they’d been walking on before. The street was lined with warehouses and piles of forgotten scraps. Stiff wind whistled through the bare iron beams and walls that were somehow miraculously still standing through the passage of two centuries. Ronnie lifted her head high, hoping that Liam’s scent was being carried on the wind, but she caught something else instead, earthy and cold, a scent she wasn’t familiar with.

Ronnie turned her head. A dark figure lingered at the end of the street, standing still and quiet, blending in with the shadows seamlessly. If it hadn’t been for the breeze, Ronnie wouldn’t have even noticed them, a fact that set her teeth on edge and poked at her pride as a shifter.

Ronnie couldn’t make out any features across the darkened distance, but she recognized the pointed shape of a hood pulled up.

The muscles in her body tensed. “Lorna, wait here,” she said, shifting on her feet.

“What?” Lorna asked, but Ronnie was already gone.

She tore off down the street in a sudden burst of pent up speed. The figure darted to the side and disappeared down the street from view, but Ronnie was already locked onto them. She had their scent and it carried downwind right to her. The stranger’s heart thumped steadily in her ears, accompanied by the rasp of breath drawn into overworked lungs.

The mysterious person was quick, but Ronnie was quicker, gaining ground on them with every rapid step. As a shifter, her body was built for the chase, and every coiled muscle worked in unison to propel her faster. Her claws breached through her fingers, aching to tear into something. Her fangs slid over her lip as her mouth opened to release a deep growl that rumbled through her chest and vibrated through the air.

Ronnie may have been stripped of her ability to fully shift, but at her core, she was still nature’s greatest predator.

The figure slowed, just enough to turn a corner, but it was the opening Ronnie needed. She dove forward and slammed herself into them. Immediately, the scent of earth and mold filled her nose. They tumbled together through the dirt. Stray shards of sharp metal and rough gravel bit into her skin and left small stinging cuts, but she ignored them. Her claws dug into the person’s side and they yelped, muffled through the cloth pulled up over their face. A fist flew wildly at her face, clipping her jaw, but she barely felt it. Adrenaline pumped through her, taking her pain and saving it for later.

The figure struggled beneath her, clamping a hand across her mouth and trying to force her away. Ronnie opened her mouth and bit down, sinking sharp fangs deep into soft tissue. She expected blood, but what filled her mouth was a foul sludge.

Ronnie recoiled in surprise. Taking advantage of the moment, the figure wiggled out from under her with a pained grunt. Ronnie spat on the ground. The black sludge slid through the dirt like slick oil.

Dead blood, she thought.

Ronnie looked up at the figure, who had scrambled back to lean on a wall that threatened to heave under their weight. “You’re a vampire.”

The figure, cradling their hand to their chest, wrenched the hood back from their face and pulled the cloth mask down around their neck. A woman. Her grey skin seemed dark, but up close, Ronnie could make out the fine lines that eased down her temple and up her neck, like cracks in a mirror. Her black eyes were furious.

“You bit me,” she hissed. “You mongrel.”

“You ran.” Ronnie spat again. The vampire’s blood left the taste of ash on her tongue. “I know you have the boy. Give him to me.”

The vampire shook her head. Her bleeding hand trembled against her chest. Ronnie had taken a decent chunk out of her. With no fresh blood, it would take a while to heal and Ronnie didn’t feel bad in the slightest.

“Where’s Liam?” She demanded, her fangs gnashing together with a growl.

The vampire smiled wide. “Is that his name?”

A primal sound tore from Ronnie’s throat and she lunged at the vampire. She had a clawed hand wrapped tightly around the woman’s cold throat when a voice broke through her haze.

“Ronnie?”

Her head snapped up, instinct putting sound and direction together. The voice had come from above?

She took several steps back and looked up. More vampires stood on what was left of the roof, a collection of black eyes and black cloth covering grey faces. Liam stood with them, looking impossibly small under a coat so large that he could use it as a tent. That was why she couldn’t smell him, she realized. His scent was being stifled. Intentionally. Ronnie stood rigidly, tense and suddenly feeling like prey.

Liam gazed down at her, a desperate expression on his face. “I want to go home,” his voice shook with every word.

The vampire next to him knelt down and put a hand on Liam’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, kid. You will.”

“Don’t touch him!” Ronnie snarled.

The vampire grinned at her. He pushed Liam back into the others, who vanished from sight with him.

“Ronnie!” Liam shouted, but his voice was quickly muffled. Ronnie imagined a hand over his mouth.

The vampire lurched forward and dropped down from the building before Ronnie could follow. He stood lanky and incredibly tall, towering over her. He had hair like Lorna, shades of red swirled together in tangled strands that were pulled back at the base of his neck.

He looked down at the vampire that Ronnie had bitten. “That looks painful, Ren,” he said, reaching for her.

“You couldn’t get here any sooner?” The vampire smacked his hand away and struggled to her feet. Ronnie took immense satisfaction in her pain.

“Nope.” He turned his gaze to Ronnie. “The name’s Jack,” he said with an exaggerated bow.

“I don’t care. What did you do with Liam?”

“Relax, doll. He’s on his way to that pretty red haired witch you brought with you,” Jack smiled. “It must be a shifter thing. Chasing after pretty witches.”

Ronnie wasn’t going to answer. Jack didn’t know what he was talking about and she wasn’t going to wait here while a group of vampires were on their way to Lorna. Ronnie spun around and made to leave back the way she’d come when ice cold fingers curled into the collar of her shirt.

“Hold on there, doll,” Jack breathed in her ear. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”

Ronnie jerked away from him. “Don’t touch me,” she lashed out at his hand, claws barely scraping over his skin. “What are you doing?”

Jack shrugged, sweeping his scrutinizing black eyes over her. “I just wanted to get a look at you. You look just like him,” he mumbled the last part, as if he were speaking more to himself than to her.

“Who?”

“Taven,” Jack chuckled suddenly and quietly. “And you’re with a witch.” Something about it was amusing to him.

“Jack.” Ren snapped at him.

He came to himself, as if he’d forgotten for a moment what he was doing. Ronnie wasn’t entirely certain what to make of him. He was staring at her as if he were seeing someone else.

“Sorry,” he waved the apology at Ren, who frowned at him. “Like I said, I was curious.”

“You’re crazy.” Ronnie interrupted him. Hearing Jack spout her father’s name like they were old friends unsettled her, sending her nerves alight with uncertain anxiety.

Jack looked affronted at her accusation, a hand clutched playfully to his chest. Ronnie likened his behavior to that of an immature child. Still, something about him kept her muscles tensed and ready to defend herself. There was a threat buried somewhere in Jack, despite how he conducted himself. Letting her guard down would be a mistake.

Ronnie took a step away from him, testing what would happen. His eyes followed her, but he didn’t move. She wanted to get away from him and that name. She needed to get back to Lorna and Liam.

“I’m done with you for now,” Jack said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Leave if you want.”

Ronnie gave him a last, mistrusting glance before she turned her back to him. Her hearing was focused as she listened for footsteps behind her, but no one followed her. She hurried down the street with Jack’s words at her back.

“I’ll be seeing you again real soon, doll,” he called after her. “Things are changing!”

#

Ronnie found Liam clinging to Lorna in the same spot she’d left her when she chased after Ren. He had shed the large overcoat and shrugged back into his little brown coat. He hadn’t said much, but he was ready to return home. In Lorna’s light, the pale blue veins that crossed over his skin like a spider’s web were more prominent. It was a sign of Blue Sickness. It was no wonder Liam had been caught so easily. He glanced up at Ronnie as she stared down at him, offering him a small smile, one she hoped was comforting. He smiled back, his dull yellow eyes crinkling.

Liam’s was already showing signs of deterioration and it broke Ronnie’s heart to look at him. His claws were brittle and broke off easily to the point that it caused him pain to have them exposed. What should have been razor blade senses were stunted to the point that he may as well have been human. It pained her to know that he would never experience the vibrancy of the world the way that she and every other shifter did. She thought of Poor Street and the sick shifters there, just waiting for the illness to take them. Would Liam end up there someday?

Ronnie took his hand and squeezed it tight. “Let’s go home.”

The journey back was short and quiet. Malik and Anya were waiting for them on the front steps. As soon as the house was in sight, Liam let go of Ronnie’s hand and ran forward. Anya got up from the steps to let him pass. He disappeared into the house with a slam of the front door.

“Is he okay?” Anya asked.

Lorna nodded, “He’s just shook up. No one hurt him.”

Malik frowned at her, “Someone had him out there?”

Lorna looked at Ronnie for an answer. “Vampires,” she said.

“Vampires?” Malik looked between them, disbelief in his tone. “You both saw vampires?”

“Well,” Lorna began, “I didn’t really see anyone. A shadow moving around in the dark. I thought I heard voices after Ronnie left, but then Liam came running down the street to me. We just waited for Ronnie to come back.”

“Come back?” He shot Ronnie a look. “You left her there alone?” Ronnie could hear the unspoken rule sitting under his words. We always look out for each other.

“Lorna can handle herself. I thought the vampire I was chasing had done something to Liam.” Even as she defended herself, Ronnie felt regret bubble up. She did feel bad for leaving Lorna alone. She just got caught up in the chase, even though she knew from the look on Malik’s face that it would never be an excuse.

“It’s okay, Mal. We’re fine. Liam is home, unharmed,” Lorna stressed. “I say we call it a night.”

Anya raised her hand high in the air. “Agreed. Liam is back and with his illness, he shouldn’t be out like this. Now that I know everyone’s alive, I’m going to bed. Watching everyone argue is exhausting.” With a pointed look at her brother, Anya turned on the steps and went inside, Lorna behind her.

Malik stood up to follow, but Ronnie reached out and grabbed his arm. He stared down at her, green eyes narrow and ready for another clash of sharp words, but he didn’t pull away.

“Mal,” Ronnie said slowly. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about before. I shouldn’t have brought up Gloria,” she bit her lip and sighed. “You’re right. I have a bad habit of leaping before I see where I’m going to land. It’s just, when I saw that human in trouble, I don’t know…” she shook her head as the words refused to come. “It’s like there was another force there. I just acted.”

Malik tensed for a moment before the anger bled out of him. He slid his hand down to hers and squeezed. “It’s okay. I know what to expect with you. I have an entire catalogue of contingency plans for when you do something reckless,” he smiled gently to let her know his words weren’t serious. “We’re a family. I guess that means we carry each other’s mistakes. Including that human you saved,” he rubbed at his scar, “and Gloria, too.” He nodded his head toward the front door. “Let’s get inside. No doubt Constance and Hazel are all over poor Liam.”

Ronnie returned his smile. She and Malik were both creatures of fiery emotion but the feeling of his forgiveness was nice. They were both too stubborn for their own good but, at the end of the day, they were still family. Malik held the front door open for her and she ducked inside. It was good to be home.

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