One
Esmerelda
Another shot rings out, echoing in the night. Each of my steps are obnoxiously loud, crunching in the snow and leaving a clear path for them to follow me. It doesn’t matter how fast or far I run in this mess, it makes it impossible to hide.
“Fucking, witch!” a man snarls behind me, far too close.
I don’t even know where I’m running to anymore, just desperate to get away. They already killed Sadie, are doing fates only know what else in that building. Maybe I deserve to die alongside her for thinking it would be better out here, that we could keep off of everyone’s radar.
Mages are only good for what use you can get out of them, after all.
Over the heavy beating of my heart, I hear another set of footsteps join the one still chasing me that I wasn’t able to shake. They might be able to follow me, but years of living on the streets has led me to pick up a few tricks, and speed is on my side. I don’t dare look to see how close they are, knowing it wouldn’t do anything beyond make me lose precious seconds.
If I can just get to the woods, I can use the trees for more coverage. The cold will get to them sooner or later; humans are spoiled and weak. I just need to outlast them.
Veering right, I sprint towards the small, wooden bridge. The river never completely freezes over, the current too quick, and it’s the only crossing point for well over a mile.
A bullet grazes my arm and I duck my head instinctively, zigzagging a bit, but it’s futile since it’s clear where I’m heading. My stomach explodes in fiery pain and I go down gasping, one hand pressing against my threadbare sweat jacket as I get a face full of snow. I struggle to push myself up, but a boot on my back presses me back down, muffling my strangled shout.
“Get a good look, did ‘ya, witch?” he sneers before spitting on me.
“Should we drag her back?” the other man asks, and I stifle a whimper of pain as the pressure on my back increases, making it a struggle to breathe.
“Bitch isn’t worth the effort,” he retorts, finally removing his boot, but I don’t attempt to budge, hoping the ground will open up and swallow me whole.
I lose the battle of silence quickly as he grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking me to my feet and pressing a gun beside my left shoulder blade. Frantically, I pull on the last vestiges of my energy, knowing it’s a death sentence with as depleted as I am. But I’ll be damned if I don’t go down fighting.
A pulse of power erupts from me like a bubble bursting, invisible, save for the shimmering edges. The men go flying back and a chunk of my chestnut hair goes with them as I’m flung in the opposite direction.
My vision starts to blur, the edges blackening despite my internal screaming to stay awake. A mage can only drain themselves so much before they simply don’t wake up. The icy water shocks my system and I go under, water rushing into my lungs as I’m somersaulted with the current, unable to tell which way is up as I struggle to breathe.
It’s a blessing and a curse when my brain starts to shut down and I feel my consciousness slipping away. Between the frigid temperature and the complete exhaustion, I barely even feel the pain anymore.
And I’m so tired of everything hurting.
Two
Esmerelda
Ashiver racks my body and I burrow closer to the warmth beside me, my face pressed against something soft. I drift back to sleep for a long stretch before I start to sluggishly fight my way conscious, stuck in a semi-aware state of dozing.
Gradually, the section of my brain that focuses on survival wins out over my comfort, demanding attention. The first thing I notice is the hard ground beneath me, cushioned only by the sleeping bag I’m lying in. The next is my head resting on something far more comfortable and radiating the same immense heat that I’m plastered against, stretched out against the entire length of my body.
Something that feels an awful lot like fur, and way fucking bigger than me.
My breath hitches in my chest. Humans may hate mages, but shifters despise us. Sure, there are those humans that cozy up to some powerful mages, but that’s typically in the bigger cities where they want to use them in their political song and dance, not so much the fringe towns. The braggarts just obnoxiously boast twice as hard to make themselves feel better, constantly reminding us that we need to be grateful they keep us employed and can destroy our lives so easily with the bullshit laws in place.
Shifters, on the other hand, try to avoid both races like the plague, staying holed up in the wilds or the smaller, more tolerant fringe towns. And even then, you might see the occasional human out that way, but not mages. You’d think we’d unite over our hatred of the humans, but no. They recognize that we have far more access to the same magic that allows them to shift forms, and since they know firsthand how powerful and destructive that energy can be, they’re scared, even if they won’t ever admit it.
They don’t trust us, our kind’s reputation that of self-serving, pompous jackasses that would sell out our own mothers for a buck. For people that live in packs and prides, the concept of such selfishness, of having no loyalty or ties to family, is an even bigger red flag than what we’re capable of. Might as well lump us in with the vamps at this point, but no; our skills would go to waste. And if there’s one thing the humans can’t stand, it’s to leave something the fuck alone instead of wringing it dry for every bloody penny they can harvest by using it.
Hundreds of years ago, all of the predatory animals in the world were hunted to extinction by the humans. Nature intervened to correct the imbalance as the prey population was left unchecked, ruining ecosystems. Humans, as the highest left on the food chain, started evolving even more. Mages, shifters, and those that were…wrong.
The vampires are a mindless plague and the only thing every race can agree on as a threat big enough to warrant joining forces, no matter how much they hate each other. Or so I used to think, but after my latest run in with a few humans, I’m convinced they’re just destined to repeat their mistakes until something finally kills them off.
The figure beside me starts to move and I scramble to get free of the sleeping bag, needing to be ready to run before he bites my head off. I only make a fool of myself as pain erupts in my back and stomach, crying out and bending over to clutch my abdomen.
From the corner of my eye I glimpse the white fur of the massive bear shrinking until only a man is left standing in its place; completely naked. He doesn’t even take the time to yank on some pants before he’s kneeling by my side, pulling my bloody palm away from my stomach.
