Hexed

15

"It's awfully hard to kill a witch."

— Alicia Jasinska, The Dark Tide

☽★☾

The owl — Erebus — let out a low hoot, seemingly pleased to have been recognized. It ruffled its dark feathers and stared straight back at Brynn. She couldn't hear any voice speaking inside her mind, like it seemed to work in books, but she felt that the owl was trying to tell her something. Erebus swooped down once more, causing Sebastian and his men to leap for cover. Instead of turning back around to strike at them again, the owl paused before the door, hovering there and swivelling its head around to look at Brynn.

Oh! I think he wants me to follow him, she realized after a moment. Brynn stumbled towards the door, watching Sebastian carefully to ensure that he wasn't going to grab her. Even though anger flared in his cruel eyes, he continued to remain sheltered underneath his desk. The red-haired girl managed a small smile; it felt good, for him to be the one cowering in fear this time. She pulled open the door and Erebus flapped out of the room, gliding down the hall.

As Brynn followed the owl towards the exit, she kept an eye out for Elise, hoping that the young woman was alright. She was nowhere to be found; hopefully she was far away from here, and not trapped in this building somewhere. Brynn held one of the heavy entryway doors open for Erebus, letting the owl swoop out of the building before she exited herself.

She had assumed at first that he was only trying to help her escape, but the owl only lighted upon a nearby tree to rest for a moment before hooting impatiently and flapping ahead again. Brynn raised an eyebrow but didn't voice a complaint; she had the strange feeling that the bird knew what he was doing. They winded their way through the more narrow alleys, giving time for Erebus to rest his wings periodically. Dawn was just beginning to spread its colorful light across the sky when Brynn noticed a figure leaning against the wall of a building.

The figure's body was slender, based on what Brynn could see from this far away. Cloaked in the shadows, they seemed like nothing more than a piece of the darkness, a figment of her imagination. When she stepped closer and came to recognize their face, she found it even harder to believe that what she was witnessing was real. Dark eyes, ivory skin, tousled brown hair, lips split in a knowing smirk... 

"Joan," Brynn breathed, worried that if she spoke too loudly, the figure would disappear entirely. More than anything, Brynn didn't want her to disappear.

The young woman laughed softly, the same rough sound Brynn had grown used to hearing. "Nickname, remember?" She murmured as she eased her weight off of the wall and approached at a cautious stroll.

"Right. Moonfall. I'm so dumb," the red-haired girl muttered, shaking her head. An embarrassed flush heated her cheeks; of course she had forgotten Joan's nickname in the heat of the moment. A stubborn part of her argued that it didn't matter because no one else was around, but most of her was too ashamed to mention that.

Joan laughed again, eyes crinkling at the edges. The last time Brynn had seen her, the young woman's face had been full of sadness. The happiness now in her expression seemed unnatural. "Are you... No. This can't be real. You're dead."

"Guess again, Vixen," Joan shrugged, the amusement draining from her features for a moment. "Witches... are much harder to kill then you'd think. It takes more than fire to take us down. The burning... It did almost take me, because I was so low on energy. But I somehow survived, mostly thanks to Erebus." She sent the owl — who was contently preening his feathers from where he was perched on a lamppost — a rueful smile before returning her gaze to Brynn. Her expression turned serious again, darkening. "Damn, I'm... I'm so sorry, Vixen. I know I tried to apologize before, but I... I don't have an excuse; I shouldn't try to make one up. What I did to you was downright cruel and I—" She cut herself off, noticing that Brynn had been steadily inching her way closer. Her eyes narrowed into a suspicious squint. "What are you doing?"

Brynn felt her cheeks heat. It had been a subconscious decision to step closer; she felt an ache in her body to be nearer to Joan and her legs had seemingly decided to take that urge as a command to move. "I..." She looked up, eyes landing on Joan's and getting stuck there, magnetized. Her gaze traced a line down the young woman's face, studying the slight dimples of her cheeks and the faint sheen of sweat resting on her brow. Her eyes leapt almost instinctively to Joan's lips, luscious and dark and dangerously tempting. "Is it okay if I kiss you?"

Brynn immediately started to panic. Did I just say that? Oh shit, oh shit, oh— Everything inside of her froze as Joan's mouth opened to voice a response. She listened, expecting the worst, as the young woman spoke. "You— you want that?"

It hadn't been the answer Brynn had been expecting. She moved her gaze to meet Joan's again, surprised by the gleeful hope she found pooling in those mysteriously dark eyes. She watched as the young woman's eyebrows hitched upwards, silently asking for confirmation.

"Of course," Brynn whispered, moving closer. She sensed that Joan wanted this too; she wasn't making any move to get away. When Joan made no move to initiate the kiss herself, an emboldened part of Brynn lifted up onto her tiptoes, grabbed the collar of Joan's shirt, and tugged her impatiently closer until their lips practically brushed together. Only then did she wait for Joan to make the next move, eyeing the young woman with a challenging gaze. She silently hoped she looked intimidating in that moment as she stared her down. Something flashed in Joan's eyes and suddenly their lips were locked in a kiss. Brynn's heart swelled as her eyes shut. She felt magic sparkling between them — whether imaginary or not, it reminded her of the fact that she was kissing a witch. And damn, did it feel good.

Their lips moved in a dance, following steps that had been choreographed without her knowing. Brynn brought a hand up to Joan's neck, resting it there to keep her close, and she felt the young woman relax against her touch. The soft sigh of contentment was enough to make Brynn's knees go weak; Joan felt safe with her. She had let her guard down as Brynn knew she had never done before, and Brynn felt a tingle of pride that she had been the person Joan had chosen to let it down for.

Joan's fingers were soon getting tangled in her hair as both scrambled to bring the other closer. Their bodies practically molded into each other, chests pressed together, practically stumbling into each other with the momentum of the kiss. Brynn never wanted this to stop. But, of course, it had to.

A cacophony of shouts split the air and both women leapt away from each other as one. Brynn couldn't help but look to Joan, admiring the way her lips were slightly swollen and how her hair was messier than it had been before. Joan was watching her too; the only emotion she could decipher from her expression was disappointment — hopefully from having to be split up and not because of something Brynn herself had done.

"C'mon," Joan murmured, beckoning for the red-haired girl to follow her with a nod. They started off at a quick walk down the side street, travelling in the direction the yelling had come from. Brynn felt a slight breeze lift the hair from her neck as Erebus flapped his way over to glide above them. She vaguely wondered how much he had seen, how much he had felt during their kiss. He's Joan's familiar, Brynn considered absentmindedly. With their connection, he must have felt something. The thought made a flush crawl up her neck as she was reminded of her own obliviousness towards these feelings.

Brynn fell into pace beside Joan. "What's going on? Do you think it's the group revolting?"

"Probably," the dark-haired young woman murmured in response. "I sure hope they're not being met with too much of a struggle. I don't know how long they'd be able to last if people actually started fighting with them." The concern in her voice was evident; she was worried for these people, her chosen family, the people she was supposed to be looking out for.

"We have to make sure they're okay, then," Brynn urged as they picked up their pace.

Joan chuckled darkly. Her hand found Brynn's as if by nature and clutched it, comforting and secure. "That's the plan, Vixen."