15. Slaughter

The Present

Naia twisted the bracelet around her wrist in anxious laps.

The charity event was hosted in a metropolitan arena on the magical side of the city. One street over from Tempest. They were now in Finnian's territory, as Ronin mentioned earlier.

Alke Hall.

Two towering peaks cradled a massive glass structure. The architecture was sharp and sleek, filled with essences of Finnian's childhood bird in the stoic posture of the hall. The pointed rooftops of the two shafts shimmered like they‘d been dipped in molten gold.

As they neared the entrance, the plated doors swung open with a soft, enchanting whisper, beckoning the guests inside.

Naia's arm hooked around Ronin's to keep from wobbling in her heels.

They crossed the threshold of the entrance into the majestic lobby adorned in flute columns and balconies with golden rails accented in vines. The crystal chandeliers glimmered from the vaulted ceiling. Naia's focus flickered from the opulent features of the hall to the extravagant gowns and elegant suits of those around her.

She inhaled a deep breath to calm her buzzing nerves as they were led up the velvet blue lining the staircase into a dimly lit arena, housing several stories of velour-cushioned chairs and secluded boxes.

They ascended the staircase to the next story.Traffic decreased. From the signs posted above them, Naia gathered there were six stories. The higher stories would be where the secluded boxes were located.

"What is your plan?" she asked Ronin as a deep voice echoed from within the arena. The sound rattled in Naia's chest. She couldn't discern the words due to the echo, but it garnered an applause from the audience.

Ronin continued looking ahead as he said, "Nobody ever sees him, but they all say he watches from his box at the highest point of the hall."

They topped another floor and to her right, out of the corner of her eye, Naia glimpsed a balcony overlooking the arena.She unlinked their arms and took off towards the rail to get a look.

Every seat in the hall was full, the air toxic from the pungent waves of perfume. Hundreds of people leisurely sipped wine from their glasses, their attention on the focal point at the arena's center where two individuals stood facing each other, illuminated by a bright spotlight.

Burgundy cloaks draped over their figures, the collars up to their chins. One of them was a young woman, with a deathly pale complexion, and her eyes an unusual, beaming shade of crimson, as if every blood vessel in her sclera had burst. Her long blonde strands were thinned and balding in spots on her scalp. The veins in her face were bubbled up like worms.

The look of decay.

She was one of Finnian's ghouls.

And so was the other one—a man with equally disturbing eyes and pieces of his frail skin chipping from his cheek like crumbling clay.

Naia spun her head towards Ronin, who was resting his forearms on the rail, seemingly unfazed by the screeching of the horn.

Startled, Naia turned back to look at the arena. A ferocious growl came from the female ghoul as she lunged at the male. He ducked, but her blackened fingernails locked around his wrist. She used her leverage to pull herself into him and plunged her other set of nails into his abdomen.The slick, tearing of flesh sounded across the arena.

Naia couldn't look away. "What is going on?"

"Rich people pay a fortune to come sit here and watch Finnian's ghouls tear each other to shreds," Ronin explained, tone indifferent to the insanity happening before them.

Naia shook her head, appalled. "That is awful!Why would they do such a thing?"

Ronin gave a lousy shrug. "Because it's entertaining, I guess?"

Naia's eyes fixed on the female ghoul as she mercilessly drove her heel into the male's spine, and seized his arms at an angle that reverberated a harsh crack.

Naia's stomach churned at the sight of cherry red pooling onto the marble and took it as her cue to whirl around.

She started back the way they'd come."Let's go."

Ronin strode alongside her.

Together, they made their way up another flight of stairs.

As they ascended higher, the clamor of the audience and the commotion of the fighting became increasingly muffled. Few individuals passed by them on their journey up the staircase—one slipping away to the restroom, or a couple fondling in a secluded corner.And then, by the final flight of stairs, none at all.

Naia's instincts kicked in from the subtle, but powerful, presence in the air. One of a divine force.

They were close.

As they rounded the corner of the last flight of stairs, Ronin unraveled his arm from Naia's and abruptly shoved her back against the wall. The brunt of it forced an unflattering oomph out of her.

She sucked in a breath, fully prepared to berate him, but then paused when she read the alarm on his face.

He peeked around the corner.She scooted closer to follow his line of sight.

Two bodies stood guard outside a doorway. It was always the ashen hue of their skin and the inhuman-like qualities of their eyes that gave them away. Naia had never been happier to see the ghouls in her entire life.

Finny, she smiled. He was on the other side of the door.He had to be. Why else would his ghouls be standing guard outside of it?

"It's okay," Naia assured Ronin in a smooth voice. "I can handle it from here."

She spun around and a fist struck her sternum.

Naia sputtered out a gasp. Her chest muscles tensed, depriving her lungs of oxygen. The impact was so strong that it sent her stumbling backwards. She scraped her heels against the floor to stunt her landing. Her spine collided with the wall. Pain sprinted down her tailbone and into her ankles.

She gritted her teeth, fisting her hands.

A ghoul, once a man with a solid build, swung his arm out to strike Ronin.Naia screamed to warn him, but he was already swiftly dodging the attack.

The other ghoul was larger, its size comparable to a stout whale. His enormous fist sailed through the air, straight for Naia once again.Ducking, she felt the rush of wind as the ghoul's knuckles missed her nose by mere inches.

Her mind quickly became preoccupied with Ronin's safety, acutely aware of his fragility as a mortal. A single strike could cause severe bleeding or damage to a vital organ, risking his life.

The next swing the ghoul made, Naia caught his baseball sized fist and squeezed, feeling the bones in his hand shatter like plastic playthings.The ghoul yelped out in pain, and she reared her foot up, pushing the sole of her high heel into his gut. Its hefty body tumbled and crashed on the opposite side of the hallway.

Naia huffed out a breath.

Finnian could expect an earful from her the moment they came face to face. How dare his ghouls attack her.

She spun around to deal with the other one currently ambushing Ronin, to find it already on the floor, completely immobile and disoriented.

Ronin's boot rested on the center of its chest.With his elbow propped on his knee, he intently observed Naia, brimming with a mixture of fascination and pompous inquisition.

She glared at him, sensing the wit of his unspoken words, daring her to ask how he did such a thing.

With the slight cock of his head and an arrogant raise of his brow, his gaze jumped to the unconscious ghoul across the hallway. It occurred to her then that it wasn't what she thought. No, he waited to hear her explain how she could've possibly knocked a man twice her size onto his ass so easily.

There was nothing she could say.Therefore, instead, she mirrored the same cocky expression right back at him, awfully curious to know how he'd secured the ghoul at his feet.Had he bound it by a charm of some kind?

Ronin's eyes grew cold. He straightened and removed his boot from its chest. His resolve to remain silent convinced Naia to do the same.

Who he was—what he was—did not matter.Come a few minutes, Ronin would leave her behind to continue with his life, and she would be only a distant memory in years to come with his old age. When his mortal body turned to dust and his soul entered the Land of the Dead, Naia would be nothing but a leaf flitting in the tailspin of his gust.

She stepped over the ghoul's sprawled legs to the door.

Ronin followed silently.

Naia paused at the room's entrance. Ronin stood beside her.

The box was, in fact, at the highest point of the hall.Across the room, Naia could see the ghouls wrestling on stage. They were ant-sized, slipping in blood puddles to gouge each other's eyes out.

A majestic wingback chair overlooked the balcony of the box. She could make out an elbow resting on the arm, a hand clutching a champagne flute, and several figures stationed along the shadows of the room. Their eyes reflecting in the stream of light filtering through from the arena, like predators lurking in darkness. More ghouls.

"Finny?" Naia called out, hope flourishing in her gut.

Ronin's arm tensed against hers.

She glanced over at him, surprised he had followed her this far.

Naia pulled her gaze away from him onto the silhouette of the arm, placing the glass on a nearby table.

The figure stood up from the chair and sauntered into the light, sneaking past the velvet drapery framing the opening of the box.

Naia's eyes filled with tears.

I found him.

She sprang forward. "Finny!"

He was far from the brother she had last laid eyes on over a century ago. The years had replaced the boyishness of his face with a sternness. His eyes, once wide with wonder, had transformed into thin, sharp slits, revealing the depth of the centuries he had lived. He was a god, fully grown when he left her, but now he was more seasoned in his skin. The same height as her, though somehow, it felt like he towered over her.

His black hair hung over his shoulders. Shorter pieces framed his symmetrical face, barren of the joyous reaction Naia expected would appear at their reunion.

A nagging sensation gnawed in the center of her chest.

Power emanated from every corner of the room, extending like threads woven into Finnian's presence.

He was not looking at her, but at Ronin instead.

"Finn—"

A shriek blared in the arena.

The jarring sound of chaos assaulted Naia's ears, causing her to startle.

She stepped to see over the balcony. Through the tenebrous lighting, the mass of bodies in the stands jumbled into adisorderly, turbulent mess of frantic shouting and crying as they shot off in every direction. Almost as if they were trying to leave.

Naia's pulse surged, her breath quickening, as she rushed to spot whatever danger threatened them.

The two ghouls who had previously fought were no longer in the center of the arena. Scattered throughout the disarray were figures dressed in the same burgundy cloaks, blocking off entrances and exits of the hall.

They were trapping the guests.

Why—

A blood-curdling screech pierced through the atmosphere somewhere below. Then another sound joined the chorus, and another, until a metallic scent invaded the air.

Naia fought through a gag, her head spinning as she turned to face her brother. "Finny, what is happening?"

He angled his chin slightly to acknowledge her, his gaze as frigid as a winter frost. "They are my sacrifices. Call it an annual feast for my ghouls. Isn't that right, Mr. Kahale?"

His eyes snapped back to Ronin.

"Don't give her the impression I'm involved in your sick little massacre," Ronin retorted with the same disdain Finnian had addressed him with.

Naia looked between them, astonished. "Do you two know each other?"

"Smart move, I'll give you that," Finnian said in a voice so methodical it made Naia nauseous.

Horrifying cries of mortals and the gruesome tearing of flesh echoed in the hall. Naia pressed the back of her hand to her lips, swallowing the bile climbing up her throat.

"Using my sister to get to me. Your bravery astounds me." Finnian tilted his head. "It's not like you to cross Tempest over into my domain."

Ronin narrowed his eyes. "Be wise with your next move, Finnian." It wasn't a threat, but a suggestive piece of advice.

Was Ronin stupid? Talking to a High God that way. Did he not value his own life?

Naia stepped back and put herself between them. "He helped me find my way to you."

She reached out for her little brother's hand. He did not fight her as she clung to it. "I made it out, Finny." Tears dampened her cheeks. "Like you said. Now, I need—I need… help."

Finnian's eyes fell on her.

In all the centuries they had known each other, Naia had never once made such a request.

She could see bits and pieces of the brother she'd held dear to her heart. In the crooked tie beneath his dress vest, and the faint scent of licorice beneath the spices of his cologne.

She gave his hand a small squeeze, never more desperate in her life to hear him speak."Finny?"

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."