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He stared down at her. His aloof demeanor was impenetrable, making it impossible for her to read his thoughts.
“You are so pitiful, my darling sister.”
His words fizzled through her like floating embers, burning everywhere they touched. Her mouth went dry and the contempt in his voice numbed her limbs.
Finnian raised his hand to cup her cheek. Everything inside of her begged to relax into his palm. To believe the last-ditch effort of her hope that he’d smile and roll his eyes, pull her into an embrace and tell her, of course, no matter how pathetic you are, I will always be by your side.
“Malik, High God of Slaughter,” he spoke their brother’s title slowly, letting each syllable leave his tongue before moving onto the next. “Come to me.”
16
THE HIMURA CLAN
Perhaps this is my curse.
It was her first and only thought. Everything else shut down after.
She barely registered the solid form of Finnian dissolving into a smoky haze, or when the warm glow of the lights began strobing throughout the building.
On her knees, though she didn’t remember falling, Naia sat with the pointed heel of her shoes stabbing the backs of her thighs. A high-pitched ringing in her ears replaced the blood-curling wails of mortals.
“Motherfucker.”
A coldness crept up her arms.
“Naia. Look at me.”
She blinked, trying to filter the splotches eating the edges of her vision.
“Naia! I need you to look at me.”
A flash of light from the hall sliced through the box, and that’s when she saw it. A ghoul, face contorted, teeth bared, lunging straight for her.
No, not her.
Ronin.
It was enough to stun Naia’s senses back to life. Instinct took over. She wrenched an arm up and plunged her knuckles into the ghoul’s solar plexus. It flailed backwards and flew over the balcony’s edge.
Ronin’s grip was like iron, bruising around her arm, and he jerked her up to her feet.
“I am right here with you.” In his hold, she could feel his urgency, the opposite of the soft tone he spoke in.
The tip of his nose grazed hers, and the warmth of his breath thawed her lips. It was precisely what she needed to remind herself of what was at stake.
His life.
“I need you here with me,” he said. “Can you do that?”
Blood flow gradually returned to her limbs as she nodded.
Her perception sharpened. Ghouls, five or more, were lying on the floor. Dead or unconscious, she wasn’t sure. It was clear Ronin had something to do with whatever happened to them.
“We’ve got to move.” He pulled her behind him. “Now.”
God of Slaughter?—
Naia’s pulse roared to life.
