He appeared in the foyer. Only this time, it wasn’t cloaked in shadow.
He glared into the bright lights beaming down at them. Lustrous orbs levitated in the palms of the witches’ hands.
The Blood Heretics.
It was an ambush.
Marina stood beside him with her arms up in surrender.
“Do not fight back, Acacius,” she whispered, her tone calm, expression calculated.
Fucking hell.
He ground his jaws, gripping at the tether to his Herald waiting to be pulled.
“We can explain everything, Ronin.” Marina stared past their glowing spheres.
Acacius’s stomach clenched at the Himura witch’s name.
“He’s not the one behind the monsters,” she continued. “Please, let me explain the situation.”
Disdain coated his mouth.
He swallowed, focusing on Marina in his periphery. She maintained her composure, but he could sense her panic from the speed of her words.
Being caught with him, in Hollow City, while monsters resembling his own stalked the streets—it was suspicious. Ronin probably assumed the worst: that she was working with Acacius to end the child’s future reign.
A set of unhurried footfalls scuffed the concrete steps.
The mystic orbs parted down the center, and the silhouette of a man emerged from them. The blinding rays glowed in the backdrop, obscuring his face.
A spiked vine shot through the shadow like a viper, wrapping tightly around Acacius’s shin. Pain rippled up his thigh and into his stomach. His mouth formed a tight line to hold in his grunt.
Marina gasped lightly.
He looked down at the briar cutting into his leg like barbed wire. Tingles prickled up his knee, the nerves already numbing under his skin.
Paralysis.
He balanced his weight on one foot. As old as he was, it was going to take a decent amount of Ronin’s blood to bring him down.
Fury roared in the thick beat of blood in his ears. He clenched his fists harder at his sides, banishing the impulse to rip this motherfucker’s head off his shoulders.
“You must be Acacius.” The witch stepped up into the High God’s space, tilting his head down at him, stupidly unafraid. With the glamor that Acacius wore, the witch sat about a foot above him.
Acacius’s nostrils flared, clinging to Marina’s request for him not to fight back. He didn’t want to make things harder for her. She cared for Ash, and it was obvious that she didn’t want to disrupt the peace made between her and Naia. Which, unfortunately, meant sustaining the peace between her and Naia’s infuriating organization.
Acacius flashed Ronin a tense smile. “You’ve got me.”
In response to his cheekiness, Ronin’s ruby brambles twisted deeper into his leg. Waves of pain throbbed to his bone, stealing the breath from his lungs. He gritted his teeth.
“Seems we need to have a little chat,” Ronin said to him before shifting his body toward Marina, his intense disapproval burning into her. “I’ll give you a chance to explain, but if you tryanybullshit, your second chance is over, Marina.”
“I understand.” The muscles in her jaws flexed as she gave a stiff nod. “Just hear us out.”
There was a plea in her voice he’d never heard before. A bravery and vulnerability that reminded him of Vale.
She’d come such a long way from the young goddess, confused and angry and bottling it all up as she watched Evander’s punishment; a goddess who relied on malice to carve her way. She was becoming who she wished to be.
