She swallowed the last of the chocolate in her mouth, its taste suddenly bland on her tongue, and reached for the cool, buttery wine that she’d opened earlier.
The rim met her lips, and she tipped it back, draining the bottle entirely.
A chill hoveredin the city air, the overcast sky spreading a gray hue over the buildings. Large trucks droned down the nearby street, scooping the sheet of snow from the main road into the ditches.
Marina stood outside a brick establishment, her pulse fluttering in her throat at the thought of meeting Naia again.
After Father entered the Land of the Dead, Marina traveled to Hollow City and informed Naia and Ronin of her vow, pleading for them to give her the chance to prove herself. This would be the first time she confronted her sister alone, though. There were many things Naia could say to her, many things Marina would say to herself if she were in Naia’s shoes. If her sister told her to leave the city, Marina would do as she asked. Because, for the first time in their lives, Marina respected Naia’s feelings, trusted her indomitable will.
At the top of the building, above the windowpanes decorated in overgrown ivy, was a sign that read:Madam Maeve’s Café. Customers came and went through the door, its bell jingling against the glass each time it was pulled open. Painted along the red brick was a portrait of a woman, faceless, her hands delicately tucked under her chin. Crimson streamed down her neck, and in the collected pool at the bottom, it said:The blood of our souls drench the city.
Marina tucked pieces of her glamor-coated blonde hair behind her ear, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes at the quote’s theatrics.
The Himura witch approached from behind her.
Hands stowed away in his baggy pants, he peered up at the painting. “It’s our insignia,” he said.
“The mark you brand all your Blood Heretics with?” Marina glanced over at Ronin. The witch’s nose was tempered red from the bite of the winter breeze.
“Yup.” His dark hair was pulled up halfway, leaving strands to hover over his neck. She found it peculiar that he didn’t mask his appearance in some way. As a witch, he could easily cast a spell to do it.
Marina’s eyes jumped around at the passing pedestrians to the customers sitting around the small tables outside the café. Nobody spared them a look. A sign that her disguise asNinawas successful.
“How did you know it was me?” She waved up at her blonde hair.
Ronin turned to her, his aloof expression giving the impression that he was perpetually bored. “I can sense your divinity. Something I learned back when Naia kept trying to convince me she was a mortal.”
Marina gave a small, amused grin at the thought. “Naia couldn’t lie if her life depended on it.”
“She’s inside, waiting for you. I will be across the street.” He glanced at the small park nestled in between the large buildings.
Her breath caught in her throat as she watched a silver-haired child zoom around the slide, chasing after a young girl with bushy brunette curls. Their laughter carried over the traffic and the city’s natural ambience. Stationed at each entrance of the park were individuals dressed in slick suits.
Beneath the monochrome filter of the clouds, Theon’s white hair was vibrant, etched against the dark fabrics of his clothes. He climbed the fake rock wall, resting at its peak. His legs dangled, and he glared across the distance at her.
Marina licked her lips and looked back at Ronin. “You will be there, I presume, with Ash.”
Ronin met her gaze, intensity sparking to life within it. “Make no mistake. Naia might be swiftly forgiving, but I am not. You do anything that so much as pisses me off, and I will end you myself. The Council’s order for peace be damned.”
She dug her fingernail into the tip of her index finger, forcing herself to keep her eyes locked with his, despite the discomfort in her chest. “You’d really go against them, with Naia as a member, when they could easily kill Ash?”
“They’d have to kill me first to get to him, and, well, that’d be pretty damn hard to do considering I’m immortal now.” The witch breathed warmth into his frigid hands.
Marina scowled. “Such mortal arrogance.”
A somber shadow set across his features. “Naia and my son come first. Always. Anyone who threatens their safety will not live.”
Marina stared at him, fascinated by the traces of his darkness. It was seething and endless, contained by layers of love. He seemed to be in control of it, only released in the moments he allowed.
“You are quite the opposite of my sister.” She cocked her head at him. “She’s a pacifist who despises violence. What would she think of these words you speak?”
Ronin watched the children cross the monkey bars. “I do my best to keep brutality away from her and Ash, but with our current predicament, it’s put me in a bit of a bind. The whole damn world either wants Ash for his blood to kill a god, or they want Naia’s power to turn themselves immortal.” He stuck hishands into the pockets of his coat. “A bunch of greedy fucking parasites who want what doesn’t belong to them.”
Marina sighed. “If you do not trust me to be in Ash’s presence, that is fine. I don’t need to get to know the child. I simply have a vow to uphold.”
“Yeah, and that’s the issue.” Ronin faced her again. “Naia will say it’s out of the goodness of your heart, that you’re trying to atone for all the shit you’ve done, but all I see is a goddess who harbors guilt for killing her own fucking dad. Immortality is a curse when it comes to emotions. We have to carry our sins forever, without the promised peace death brings.” He adjusted the chokehold of his striped scarf. “I can imagine nearly eight hundred years’ worth of all the fucked-up things you’ve done sure weighs a lot.”
Shame lanced her down the middle. His candor scrambled her thoughts, unable to properly quarrel with him.
