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While she admired his calm attitude as he regarded Marina, she couldn’t match his composure. The mere thought of her sister unboxed deep-rooted anger and rational worry inside of her.
What was the likelihood of the bomb’s effectiveness? Naia imagined several of them simultaneously going off all at once and slinging Ronin’s blood everywhere. It would be impossible, even for Marina, to avoid a speck of it landing on her. Right?
“We don’t know when or where she will find us,” she countered. “What if none of the Blood Heretics are around when she appears?”
Ronin lifted from his chair and sauntered around the cauldron to her. He pulled a hand from his pocket to slip around her waist and tug her closer. “When they’re not around, you’ll have me.”
Things were different this time. Ronin was a witch of the Himura bloodline. Unlike Kaleo, he was not defenseless against the gods.
She leaned her body against his and heat blossomed behind her ribcage.
Things had been this way since they’d slept together in his office. It seemed impossible to keep their hands off one another.
When they returned to his apartment after visiting the Blood Heretics graveyard, they’d spent the hours of the early morning intimately exploring the curves and valleys of each other’s bodies in his bed.
Naia now knew how to elicit certain sounds from him; how to awaken a ravenous look in his eyes. Consumed by her desire to swim in its waters that she failed to consider his bodily needs. It was only when streaks of sunlight pierced through his windows did she notice his fair skin taking on a rosy shade, and his eyelids struggling to stay open while she trailed kisses along his collarbones.
Naia slid her hands up his forearms and settled around his neck, clamping down her hunger for more of him.
Avi groaned, disrupting the moment between Ronin and Naia.
They both rotated to look at him.
He swiveled around on his stool. “Theon, I specifically asked for a jackalope antler, not a damn stag.”
Not even the mask could hide the level of boredom on the god’s face as he brought his gaze up from his phone onto Avi. “You said nothing about antlers when you sent me to forage for you.”
“Bullshit. Go find me a jackalope.”
“Those creatures are close to impossible to hunt down.”
Ronin’s fingers twitched around her waist, and she peeked at him. His eyes descended to her lips, stirring a sensation in the bottom of her belly.
“Better get fucking started then,” Avi said. “According to our bet you lost, you have to forage for me for a month.”
“If you weren’t half blind, or had a better organizational system, you’d see it’s right here.” Reaching up on the messy shelf, Theon dug in one of the many jars and pulled out an antler, its points wider than the one Avi claimed was of a stag.
“Oh.” Avi laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “My bad, dude.”
Theon tossed the antler into the cauldron and slouched back on his stool, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. “And I did not lose our bet. You cheated.”
Avi flashed a smile. “That’s what sore losers say.”
Ronin’s fingers slid between the hem of Naia’s shirt and jeans, lighting a fire in her skin.
She cleared her throat, refocusing her attention on Avi and handed the magical bomb back to him. “Here.”
In exchange, he held out the vial of sludge he’d made. “Take a swig every day. When you run out, tell me.”
The serious demand in his tone piqued Naia’s curiosity, but also made her uneasy.
She held the vial up full of the mucus green potion to examine it, her nostrils flaring at its unpleasantness. “Whatever for?”
“It will counter any symptoms you have if Ronin’s blood touches you.”
She looked at Ronin for confirmation, and he nodded.
How they cared about her safety was endearing, but the existence of the potion frazzled her. “Is this easily accessible? Can other mages create it?”
