Neon Shadows

Rain slicked streets reflected neon signs in jagged shards. Aria Valen hugged her coat tighter. Her leather jacket did little to keep out the chill. Her camera hung from her neck, both a lifeline and a liability. From the corner of her eye, a figure moved. Tall, deliberate, and silent. She adjusted her camera and froze. The alley ahead was not empty. Vincent Crowe. Up close, he looked less polished than in the media and far more dangerous. His hand gripped another man’s collar and shoved him against the brick wall. Aria’s fingers itched on the camera. She whispered to herself, “Get the shot.” The click echoed too loud. Vincent’s head snapped toward her. Her heart pounded. She ducked behind a dumpster just in time. His eyes scanned the street, sharp and calculating. A smile tugged at his lips. It promised trouble. Then a shadow moved between her and Vincent. A tall stranger, calm but commanding. He stepped forward. “Step away,” he said. Vincent’s eyes flickered with annoyance and he turned back, letting the stranger protect her. Aria wanted to thank him, question him, demand answers, but he vanished into the rain. She was left soaked, trembling, and curious. Curious about the stranger, about Vincent, and about the danger that had just brushed against her life. Most of all, curious about the secret she was now determined to uncover.