26. The Informant

Naia stood in front of the door leading into the VIP room on the second story of the lounge, shifting on her feet. Ruckus and voices carried from the bottom floor below. Members in an intense game of cards, the thick layer of smoke from their cigarettes clouding the room. Theon and Avi's bickering at the bar climbed up the walls, disrupting the soft clinks of ice against the glass of drinks.

According to Avi, the VIP room was reserved for Ronin, where he conducted his meetings with the leaders of the Blood Heretics. What if she was intruding? He left quickly after answering his phone. He seemed busy?—

A familiar aura appeared behind her, tingling at her nape. A presence resembling strokes of a midnight sky; the calm lapping of the sea above her head. Safety in the form of a person.

It filled her with pride to discern his presence, and she smiled, feeling him hover behind her.

His forehead rested on the back of her head, and he drew in a breath. "I was looking for you."

She angled her head towards him. "Avi said you were more than likely late for a meeting."

A breathy laugh mingled with her hair. "I'm not exactly the most punctual person, but yeah, it was a meeting."

She nuzzled her nose against his jaw, pieces of his hair tickling her cheek. "You didn't need to come searching for me. I can find my way to you."

His hand came around her waist, and he planted his palm on her stomach and eased her closer until her shoulder blades rested snug against his chest. "I didn't want you to think I was too busy or intentionally left you behind?—"

The door to the VIP lounge swung open, and the pink-haired waitress appeared.

"Damian, can you not just—" At the sight of Naia, Violet beamed.

Naia grinned and slightly opened her arms, insinuating her permission for Violet to hug her.

A squeal leapt out of Violet as she jumped from foot-to-foot, attacking Naia in a hug of rosewater and lavender.

Ronin backed up to avoid the peppy witch's grasp.

Violet broke away, holding Naia's shoulders. "Oh my gods. It's nice to finally tell you how much I've been dying to meet you. For years, I've pestered Ronin relentlessly to tell us who the woman was on our insignia. You are stunning!"

Naia hadn't bothered putting her glamor back into place after Ronin asked her to remove it. And it certainly never crossed her mind she might be idolized by the Blood Heretics. If anything, she'd fully anticipated their disapproval of her divinity.

Naia smiled sheepishly. "Thank you. I love the color of your hair."

"You're so sweet!" She tugged Naia through the door by her hand. "Our meeting is practically over, given Ronin was distracted through most of it, but you should join next time."

"I'd love to." It was absurd, but tears pricked Naia's eyes. She'd longed to be a part of something, and to be accepted by others. Now that it was happening, she could hardly believe it.

"Look what I found." Violet said in a sing-song voice, stopping at the entrance of the room.

An indigo hue illuminated the sectional leather sofa along the walls. Two familiar individuals sat across from each other.

Ronin came to stand beside her, hands slipping in the pocket of his loose pants. "These are the leaders of the Blood Heretics. Noah, Vi, and Damian." He gestured to each one with the flick of his chin.

Noah, the other waiter she met in the taproom, greeted her with a reserved dip of his head. His messy curls bounced with the motion. He brought his fingers to his eyebrow piercing and fidgeted with it, averting his gaze away from her.

Damian shifted on the cushion, sitting up as he scrutinized Naia. It made her stomach dip, not knowing what type of vile things would leave his mouth. Especially after their last encounter.

"Nice to officially meet you all," Naia said politely.

"You as well." Damian lounged back on the cushion. "Considering I have your portrait tattooed on me."

Ronin's expression remained stoic, but his eyes grew sharp. "I can remove the tattoo if you'd like."

Damian cracked a wolfish smile, flashing his gaze to Ronin. "No need. She's a pretty face."

"Careful or Ronin might boil your blood right in your pretty little skull," Violet hummed.

A rush of annoyance and rage tightened Naia's muscles. Something in her begged to take his pompous ego down a notch.

"It makes sense now." She cocked her head, appraising Damian. "Why you must go to Roseland Street to find a lover. You seem to believe you are the Land of Entity's greatest creation when your personality is insufferable."

Damian snapped his gaze back onto her, raising an eyebrow. Whether she impressed or stunned him, she could not tell.

Noah's hand came up over his mouth to muffle his laugh.

"Oh wow, I love you so much, Naia!" Violet cackled, still linked arm in arm with her. "Don't let him fool you. Damian might act like a tool, but he secretly can't stand it when you don't give him the time of day."

"Kiss my ass, Vi." Damian rolled his eyes, dismissing her.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Not even if you paid me."

Ronin's hand slid across the small of Naia's back, eliciting a shiver to run up her spine. "Go have your bickering match somewhere else," he ordered. "We're done here."

Violet gave Naia another cheery hug before skipping to the door. "I'll see you around!"

Noah slipped past her, head down, his energy less timid and more bashful.

Damian paused beside her, lifting an arm to run a hand over the top of his shaved head. The movement flexed his bicep, purposely flaunting the tattoo of the Blood Heretic insignia—or her face.

"Take care, Goddess," he purred.

She responded with a dry smile.

"I'm so fucking close, D," Ronin warned, his tone remaining casual with an impatience clipping its edges.

It prompted a laugh from Damian before he exited the room.

"Sorry about that," Ronin sighed. "Damian's a dick. As you learned when you first met him at the jazz bar."

She maneuvered her body to face him, intertwining their fingers. "What were you meeting with them about?"

His other hand slid up her hip, settling on her waist. "My organization consists of three divisions. D, Vi, and Noah are their captains."

His touch flickered a heat in her veins. "What about you, Boss? Do you have your own division?

His pupils flared, and he slipped underneath the hem of her shirt, digging the pads of his fingers into her skin. "Avi and Theon."

Naia smiled. "And me."

Ronin unraveled his hand from hers and brought his palm to the side of her neck, rubbing his thumb over the delicate skin of her pulse. "Personally, you're my favorite."

Her stomach somersaulted, turning her breath shallow. "Smooth words don't work on me."

Inching his lips closer, he smirked. "In case you haven't noticed, words aren't my thing."

"Funny coming from a leader of a witch organization." Naia hooked her index finger in the belt loop of his loose trousers and tugged herself into his chest.

His thumb slid down her throat and teased her collarbone. "I hate talking."

Naia swallowed, desire fogging her mind. "You talk plenty with me."

"Because it's you." His fingertips gripped her nape and hauled her into a kiss.

Taking advantage of her gasp, he slipped his tongue between her teeth. Her head spun with a mix of excitement and pleasure. A primal need to relinquish her control to him. Give him the unorganized, messy parts of herself unfiltered, unrestrained.

She nipped at his lip with her teeth, knowing the effect it would have on him.

He hauled her up by the backs of her thighs and walked them over to the sofa.

"You started this," she teased, and he threw her back on the cushion.

"It's your smartass mouth." He climbed on top of her, legs pinning her down at her sides. He worked her shirt up, trailing wet kisses across her abdomen. "Damian is all talk, but you called him out, and I found it sexy as hell."

"Of course, you would have a friend like him. You are just as cheeky as?—"

His tongue flicked her pebbled nipple, hitching her breath.

"You think I am cheeky?" he asked in a gruff voice.

She arched her spine to grant him better access. "Among other things."

He swirled his tongue, his lips grazing behind the movement. "Like?"

She treaded carefully with her feelings to place them into words. "I think you are bold and clever…"

He scattered bruising kisses down her torso, hovering right above the button of her jeans. Tension coiled between her legs. "And?"

"Kind and compassionate…" Her fingers tangled in his hair, fisting the strands by the roots. "A little too nonchalant for your own good."

The reverberation of his chuckle sent a satisfying shiver through her bones.

Unhurriedly, he undid the button of her jeans. Her pulse quickened, matching the tempo of her mounting anticipation.

She peered up at the blue-tinted lights swirling across the ceiling with a haunting thought. "Ronin."

"Hm?" He worked her jeans over her hips and down her thighs.

"You've spent years of your life drawn to me because I saved you," she said. "A kind gesture is not worthy of your praise."

Maybe it was in her to sabotage good things before they got better. A sick form of her subconscious acting to protect her from further suffering.

Ronin's movements froze.

Naia dropped her eyes to look at him.

His parted lips were pink and swollen, and his gaze was feral as he stared at her. "You think my adoration for you stems from the sole fact that you saved my life?"

She gave a small nod.

"Let me be clear in my feelings for you, Naia." One of his fingers curled underneath the waistband of her underwear. The muscles in her abdomen quivered in response.

"You saved me from drowning, yeah, but I could see you were someone as lonely and miserable as I was. Soft and gentle on the outside, but you had a fierceness in your eyes." He slid his hand under the crook of her knee, bending her leg. "The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, but you carried a shadow in your divinity." He kissed the inside of her thigh, and her stomach liquified, dripping like honey between her legs. "Demons that weighed you down."

"And you wanted to be the one to cast light upon that shadow?" she challenged, leveling him with a look. "To fix me."

He smirked. "You have it all wrong, babe."

Her heart skipped hearing him refer to her as something other than her name.

Ronin worked her underwear over her hips.

"What then?" she asked, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat, feeling the burning heat in her cheeks as his mouth floated over the exposed flesh between her legs. Goosebumps budded across the skin of her thighs.

Ronin's eyes flashed up to her. "I wanted to destroy all those who threw you into your darkness."

Before she could reply, he lowered his mouth onto her.

Naia rolled her lips together,tempted to sip on the beer in front of her. She crossed her legs under the table, and then uncrossed them. Her shoulder grazed Ronin's, prompting him to glance over at her.

"Put your glamor up," he whispered.

She swept her eyes around the room, not sure what made him suggest it.

The bar they were in was in the midst of several dark alleyways, down a steep set of stairs, and through a magical portal in the form of a dead-end stone wall, adjacent to a donut shop Naia had begged Ronin to take her to. The only response he gave was an eye roll and a slight jump to his lips, indicating he would on a different day.

The portal had spit them out into what appeared to be another strip of the city. Blinding neon lights and narrow cemented pathways between tall buildings. It wasn't until Naia talked Ronin's ear off with theories did he confess he'd taken her to Bogart Strip—a place only witches ventured to in the city. The establishments were a secret kept tightly from the humans.

When Naia had asked why, Ronin did not elaborate outside of, "The black market."

The look of disapproval she'd given him hinted he'd be giving a further explanation later. For now, she thought best not to push him. He'd only agreed to let her tag along on a job after she'd promised to do as he said.

If she were being honest, a part of her craved to see the daily life of Ronin, the boss of the Blood Heretics. That part of him was still a mystery to her she desired to know on a deeper level.

"Naia," he hissed. "Glamor. Now."

At three in the morning, the establishment was empty, aside from the older woman behind the bar. Naia didn't understand his order, but his tone left no room for question.

She inhaled a large breath, filling her lungs. With it, she envisioned her features thinning out, her lashes darkening, her complexion dulling, and the green in her irises dimming to a more natural shade.

Naia turned her head to Ronin for approval.

He nodded once, the motion brisk. His eyes didn't linger on her for long, and that made her uneasy. He kept scanning the room carefully, his gaze consistently jumping back to the entrance of the bar. It was a small assurance he wasn't expressing any nervous ticks. The second he started cracking his knuckles, she'd give her anxiety full permission to run wild.

Naia picked up her glass of beer and held it up to her nose. "What are we here for?" she asked in a hushed tone.

The bell strapped on the front door jingled and a well-built man stepped through with ginger locks in a side part, dressed in a tight, blue blazer. His thin, passive eyes held on Ronin and Naia as he approached their table.

He took a seat across from Naia, acknowledging Ronin with a look. "Mr. Kahale."

Ronin crossed his arms, his expression arranged in a way Naia had never seen before. Nonchalant, with a distinct edge to his eyes, fixated on the man.

"What do you have for me?" Ronin asked.

Naia relaxed her own uptight expression to mirror Ronin's chill demeanor—despite her heart rate thumping in her throat.

"No pleasantries first?" The man's gaze cut to Naia. His skin was as smooth as the shell of an egg beneath his well-groomed beard. He tilted his head. "You said you would come alone."

"Plans change," Ronin replied. "Now, you've got two minutes to talk, or I'm out."

Naia gulped down the horrible, carbonated beverage, overwhelmed with the urge to diverge the man's attention from her. She forced herself not to make a face. The beer was flavorless compared to Ronin's. No malt, no hops. Nothing.

The man's snake-like eyes loitered on her for a beat too long, making her skin crawl.

He returned his gaze back to Ronin, propping his elbows up on the table and joining his hands together. "No deities have entered the city."

Naia's gaze flitted to Ronin. Beneath his cool exterior he'd presented to her in Avi's potion room, he was worried enough to seek information on her behalf.

She understood now what the job was. This strange man was an informant, and Ronin was fishing for information on Marina and Solaris's presence in the city.

Naia sat her beer back on the table, staring at the sapphire gemstone ring on the man's index finger. She knew little of gemstones and their magical properties, only what she'd seen from Ronin.

"You're sure?" Ronin asked, his voice solid, calm.

The man nodded in confirmation before settling his attention back on Naia. "She, however, is a face I do not recognize." He leaned in slightly, an unsettling smile pulling the corners of his mouth up. "What is your name?"

"She's a friend," Ronin answered curtly. "Now, is that all?"

The man stared at Ronin for a beat, licking his lips. "For now."

"If you hear anything in the meantime, reach out. I'll pay you double." Ronin stood up from his chair, the legs scraping against the hardwood. He slid his topped-off beer across the table to the man. Liquid sloshed out.

Ronin dug a wad of cash out of his pocket and tossed it next to the frothy glass. "Thanks for your services."

Naia stood up with him, but the man jerked up and caught her by the wrist. Her body stiffened.

He invaded her space, inspecting her face closely. "Interesting."

Naia's heart felt as if it had stopped. Ronin had specifically told her to put on her glamor for a reason. It didn't feel right—safe—how this man knew of her identity.

His fingertips stung against her skin. She winced, fisted her hand, and jerked her arm free.

The revelation of her strength twisted a smirk across his face. "I think our business is done." And with that, his arm shot up.

Naia barely had time to register the beer lifting off the table. Its contents splashed over her face. Ronin shoved himself into her side, pushing her out of the way.

She staggered and caught herself on the chair at the next table. Blinking through the foam and burning alcohol in her eyes. She glimpsed Ronin's gaze, wide and full of fear, on her before a sea of glasses and plates levitated behind the man from the bar.

The bartender screamed and got down on the floor. Porcelain fired across the room, aiming at Ronin. He deflected each one with a flick of his fingers, bursting the glass into smithereens.

Naia picked up the chair and slung it at the man with all her strength.

He ducked and the piece of furniture crashed into the wall, splintering into pieces.

Balling her fists, she started towards him. Fractured shards of the exploding dinnerware sliced across her cheeks and arms.

"Naia!" Ronin snarled.

She nearly laughed, holding her glare on the man as she grew closer. What kind of game was this? A war of broken glass. The sooner she knocked him out, the sooner it would all cease?—

His hand came up and his fingers curled like a claw. The sapphire gemstone in his ring glowed.

Naia's airway constricted. She stopped and brought her hands up to her neck as pressure pushed behind her eyeballs. A shockwave shuddered through her. Her knees shook. She bent over. Agony twisted down her throat and into her chest like a corkscrew. Control over her body weakened, and she wasn't sure how long she could stay upright. She could hardly see the linoleum or her black boots through the stars in her vision.

I am not afraid of pain. I am not afraid?—

The floating dishes crashed to the floor.

Breath hit the back of Naia's throat and the pressure gave way in her skull. She lifted from holding onto her knees. Her vision cleared. The torn muscles in her throat spasmed and she coughed.

The man stumbled forward, as if he'd lost his balance, his shoes crunching over broken glass. He slapped his palms down on the sticky, porcelain littered table.

The backs of Ronin's shoulders tensed beneath the material of his black button up.

"Naia, look away," he demanded.

The venomous look on Ronin's face paralyzed Naia as he inclined over the man. "Color me impressed. The arrogance of a man thinking he could fuck me overand live to tell the tale."

The man stifled out a ragged, breathy laugh. "Informants are not loyal beings. I don't give a shit who you are."

Ronin's eyes narrowed, and the man winced, slapping his hands on the sides of his head. "Tell me what the fuck you know, or I promise I'll make it hurt."

The man looked up at Ronin through bloodshot eyes. His spit foamed at the corners of his mouth and his teeth bared in a deranged smile. "They're watching you."

Naia's blood went cold.

She had been right to worry. Marina and Solaris were in the city, observing Ronin to figure out what his blood could do.

"Naia." Ronin's voice rose and his eyes flashed over at her. "Look away."

"Go ahead, but they will find you and kill you without my help?—"

The man choked on his words. His mouth fell open and his eyes bulged. Sounds sputtered out from the back of his throat. Trails of crimson oozed out of the orifices of his face.

"Look. Away," Ronin said with violent intensity.

Tingles festered in Naia's chest and prickled up her neck at the sight of the bright, red liquid. She couldn't turn away. It was disturbing and disgustingly fascinating to witness the true power Ronin wielded with a mere look.

He tugged her into his side by her waist and covered her eyes with his palm.

A thud sounded.

All went silent.

Naia gaped at the darkness Ronin's fingers provided. Her stomach curdled.

Ronin said something to the sobbing bartender. Naia tried to listen, but her ears rang. He lugged her out of the bar. It felt as if the wire connecting her brain and body were disconnected. Her feet moved, but she wasn't sure how.

The cool night air attacked her skin, jarring her out of her shocked state of mind.

She ripped her hand free from Ronin's and ground her heels into the cement.

The hard, unmerciful look on his face was replaced with a softer, remorseful one. "Naia, I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You killed him." Her breath came out uneven against her chattering teeth.

"Your sister had already gotten to him," Ronin said. Not defensively, but matter of fact.

"I-I don't… know—" Her lungs were tight and no matter how much air she sucked in, she couldn't grab onto enough. Ronin had shielded her from seeing the man's light leave his eyes, but she'd stood close enough to feel his presence leave his skin. It triggered memories of Kaleo, smiling down at her seconds before his soul drifted away.

And Marina. She was in the city. Watching. Waiting.

She's going to kill him just like she did Kaleo?—

Naia folded over, catching herself on her knees.

Ronin devoured the arm's length of space between them and embraced her. His chest expanded as he inhaled. "Naia, breathe." He exhaled long and slow.

She focused on the rhythm of his chest moving against hers. The strong stride of his heartbeat. Hints of sage and jasmine stuck in his clothes. The familiar molding of his arms around her. His body pressed against hers.

Resting her chin on the top of his shoulder, she mimicked his breathing.

"I know how much you hate violence," he said, his tone raw with despair. "It's why I didn't want you to come with me."

Did she regret coming along? This version of him was what she had wanted to see.

Naia squeezed her eyes shut. "You planned to kill him all along."

"I've tried being someone who chooses mercy, but in the end, that only gets those I love killed." His voice softened, and he cupped the back of her head, holding her tightly. "I respect your feelings, and I will do everything in my power to shield you from the harshness of my actions and the world. But hear me when I say this, Naia." He paused, and she could feel the tightening of his jaw against her cheek. "If they threaten you, they do not walk out alive."