Curse Of Neon Night

Chapter 2

Perilous Games

The knife felt warm in my hand, its runes vibrating, Zane led the way into a slick, brightly lit passage in Hell's Kitchen.

He moved like smoke in a dark suit; his gaze, icy bright beneath flashing lights. Each step sent water flying, while a pulsing ache radiated from the spellbound charm hidden against my chest.

Silver hair streamed around Talia, robes gleamed, mirroring the night. A quick look over her shoulder, those purple eyes sparked, then a wave toward a weathered door tucked beside overflowing bins.

As Zane’s hand grazed my arm, a familiar thrum vibrated from the moon on my skin; the old magic stirred. He tasted of a brewing storm when I pushed him, hands briefly across his ribs.

A smile touched his lips as he moved nearer. Irritated, I shouldered through, following Talia.

The door flew back as she pushed it. It revealed a hidden marketplace, a strange collection of stalls brimming with luminous spheres, skulls that seemed to murmur secrets, bottles filled with shimmering haze.

Neon tubes buzzed above, showering the crowd with rose and emerald hues. Vendors barked prices, their tones like chipped flint.

Talia shouldered forward, fabric swirling around her legs, finally halting at a bookstall overflowing with aged volumes. The figure, cloaked and shadowy, leaned in as Talia offered a gleaming trinket.

“Vexor’s grimoire,” she murmured, her tone like warm syrup. “This lifts their affliction.” A quick nod directed our attention to those awaiting release.

The necklace digs into my skin; a blade feels reassuring nearby. Zane crowds me, warm air against my lobe - a whispered “Be careful, Raven.”

I push him away, yet my fingers stay, a jolt from the spell racing up my arm. “Look at her,” I snarl, pivoting toward Talia.

She flips through a book, runes glowing red on the pages. "My brother Vexor did a curse on that necklace to trap souls," she says without raising her head.

"His grimoire's the solution. Entombed in his old lair, the Bronx," she slams the book shut, her smile slicing. "But he knows you're arriving."

The knife feels small within my grip. I ask what she desires, a trade, perhaps, moving nearer. Here, favors aren’t given; they’re bought.

Jasmine announced Talia’s arrival — a heavy scent. “I need something,” she murmured, her gaze landing on Zane.

It shouldn’t be difficult. A chill raced across my skin where her fingers touched me; a familiar throb began within the ink on my arm, the old magic stirring.

Zane moved, positioning himself before me, one hand pressing into the small of my back, warmth spreading. He growled, “What is it?” His silver eyes cut toward her.

A small smile touched Talia’s lips. It felt wrong somehow, as she pointed toward a shadowy passage tucked beside the stalls. “Vexor’s place. Let’s go.” Then, like smoke, she blended with the people.

I started to run, yet Zane gripped my arm, keeping me from chasing after her. He leans close, a strange energy tingling where our bodies touch.

“Stay away from her,” he murmurs against my mouth. I push him back, goosebumps rising, then bolt down the narrow passage.

Blue light spills from signs overhead, making the alley feel tight. Glass shards grind underfoot while I check my blade. Zane follows, a little too near for comfort. A chill rises on my flesh when his shade touches me. Up ahead, a warehouse stands - its defenses flare with electricity. The lock clicks; the door groans as I push it inward. Within, crates towered, their surfaces pulsed with light from etched symbols. Bookshelves brimmed with aged volumes; a dim violet radiance spilled from shadowed recesses. My foot moved ahead, blade held tight, barely clear of a snaking barrier.

A swift grip on my shoulder, Zane. I flinch back as a burning power surges within me, centered low in my gut. “Stay away,” I snap, voice like ice. A laugh escapes him, eyes like polished metal flashing, as he moves nearer. “It just happens,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing my coat. I push back, grip tightening on his wrist; the spell within me flares.

Something moved in the dark. Then a brute stepped forward, his eyes shone, marked with Vexor’s symbol.

“Give me the necklace,” he growled, darkness gathering at his fists.

My blade flew, glowing faintly, cutting across his forearm. A bellows rips from him as he surges forward. Zane’s claws extend, a dark power unleashed, ripping through the man’s torso.

Smoke spills forth; the figure collapses. My boot connected with his ribs, enough to end things.

As he went limp, a bloody note slipped from his grasp. It warned: cease the chase, or face shared consequences.

My hands trembled as I grabbed the paper.

Then Zane’s hand came down on top of mine — a warm weight, though his touch felt strangely electric, like a captured spark.

My pulse hammered as I whirled around — Talia had vanished, swallowed by the bustling marketplace following her quick exit.

Zane moved closer, his warm breath ghosting over my skin. “This is bad, Raven,” he rasped, voice like gravel.

The paper felt cool in my hand; the necklace, warm against my thigh — a small sparkle amidst lengthening darkness.

A tremor ran through my blade as I scanned the stalls, each one a doorway into secrets.

Talia was gone. A red smear stained the wood where she’d been — a warning, perhaps, or just the last trace of her.