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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?