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“Well, no, but I know it’s true.”
“How?”
“Because.” Ronin chuckled. “Your brother would’ve killed me already if it wasn’t.”
She propped herself up on her elbow and stared at him, stubbornly waiting for him to give an explanation.
He rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile chasing the gesture as he twirled a piece of her hair around his finger. “When I first moved to the city, I sought him out and attempted to kill him.”
“Idiot!” Naia chided. “He’s a High God!”
“I was fucking fed up with him constantly sending people to steal my blood.”
She grimaced, unable to argue. How many times had he endured such relentless assaults after the memory he had shown her?
Ronin continued twisting her hair around his finger. “Only, when I found him, he was at Dead Night’s, an underground club that acted as a meeting place for the organizations in the city. He’d been called there on business.”
“What kind of business?” Naia asked warily.
“To resolve conflict between two organization leaders. Finnian rarely cares about that kind of shit—unless it affects him personally. The black market is full of all kinds of relics and magical items. It draws in lots of business. The money helps fund the city, so when the two organizations blew the market to bits with their magic, Finnian stepped in.”
She narrowed her eyes. “The same black market you sell spiked bottles of your beer to?”
“That’d be the one,” he said. “Anyway, when I showed up, he was sitting at a round table with the organization leaders. I almost shit myself and decided I needed to get the fuck out of there.”
He gave a small, foreboding pause, his finger pausing its movement in her hair, that made Naia nervous to hear the rest. “But then your brother smiled at me, all smug and righteous, and it just went all over me. I had a knife in my hand, but before I could even cut myself, he shot his sorcery at me. Those fucking skulls that will end you with their teeth. It should’ve killed me.”
“What happened?”
“A barrier formed around me and blocked them. I was too stunned to react, but your brother’s face said it all. My guess is that he wanted to kill me and drain me of my blood right then and there. The hassle of trying to track me down and send his guys for it, only for them to never return, must’ve been pissing him off.”
The story was unsettling, but Naia was thankful he had confirmation of his theory. It was a relief knowing Ronin was invulnerable to any deity.
“Why didn’t Finnian try to steal your blood himself?” Naia pondered aloud.
Ronin resumed weaving her strand of hair around his index finger. “Because, I think deep down, he was afraid of the slight chance my blood could actually kill him.”
“But you are not capable of such? Your blood can only paralyze us?”
He slipped his finger free from her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “Yeah, and it comes in handy when your insane brother is trying to chop us to pieces.”
“And to think I attempted to slit your throat with my hairpin the night we met,” Naia teased.
His expression grew solemn, tightening his brow. “The hairpin that was flying around us in Alke Hall?”
She brought her hands together between her chest and Ronin’s, fidgeting with her fingernails to prevent her hands from reaching into her hair as she remembered her precious hairpin was currently in Vex’s possession. “Yes, its name is Wren. It was an ancient relic created by my father’s hand. He gave it to me when I was young to help protect myself.”
Ronin lightly tapped underneath her chin with his forefingers. “Wren seems loyal. I have a feeling they will find their way back to you.”
She smiled sadly. “I hope so.”
Ronin inhaled, brushing pieces of her hair from her neck. “The last thing I expected was for you to get my blood on you the night we met.”
“I had just escaped Kaimana, fearful of Marina following me. I was convinced you were a hired mage or a shapeshifted god out to get me.”
Ronin chuckled, the vibrations of the sound rattling through her ribcage pressed against him. “I was freaking the fuck out. Yuki had to calm me down and remind me over and over again that our blood can’t kill you.”
“You recognized me,” Naia murmured, her heart warming into syrup at the thought of him forgetting all sense of rationality and convincing himself he’d killed her—when it was her who accidentally got his blood on her fingers. “You knew I was a goddess from the moment you laid eyes on me that night.”
