Curse Of Neon Night

The Night Deal Rain slicked my hair onto my face as I hunched down, the city wind tearing at my jacket. Over there, a warehouse throbbed with violet glow, its protective spells sputtering like cheap fireworks. The knife came free from its leather hold on my leg, a quiet hum rising from the steel. Jumping to the fire escape, boots rasped against the window frame — a metallic echo followed. The busted window gave way under my effort; I squeezed inside, landing low on splintered wood. Everywhere I looked — crates, overflowing with glimmering circles alongside blades that seemed to murmur secrets. The necklace — dark as night, yet radiating violet light — throbbed on its stand, mirroring a pulse. Moving forward, my footsteps made no sound as I skirted around a crimson beam, which hummed with energy like a trapped bug. The necklace felt like ice as my fingers closed around it. I shoved it deep inside my coat, then bolted for the window. Something rumbled near my back. Then, two hellhounds launched themselves out of the dark — their gaze burning like embers, teeth clacking. My blade arcs, glowing with azure symbols, meeting a beast’s side. A cry — then nothing but shadow. Another launches forward, tearing at leather with wicked claws. A swift kick to the metal snout sent sparks flying. Then, scrambling beneath a wooden box, I hauled myself upward. The alarms wailed — a brutal, high-pitched screech. Leaping from the shattered glass, I landed hard on concrete, legs driving me forward into the glowing city. Pink and blue light spills from Hell’s Kitchen storefronts, a blur of glowing signs. I bolted through the lobby, the metal door clanging closed as I raced up to my floor – three stories worth. Shelves overflowed with pilfered treasures — glowing spheres, spinning blades. Years accumulated into this mess that was home. The necklace landed on the tabletop; violet light slashed across the room. The phone buzzed against my thigh. Fishing it out, a message appeared – the customer wouldn't make it on time. Floorboards groan underfoot as I walk back and forth, a knife held firm. A bare hand finds the raised skin of my moon — a faint vibration accompanies the touch. A trio of sharp raps echoed, a brittle sound, bone on glass. My hand tightened around the knife; its edge caught light as I yanked the door wide. Six-foot-three Zane Cinder rested on the door frame, clad entirely in black clothes clinging to lean muscle. He had dark hair falling across his eyes — silver, gleaming hard as metal. The line of a scar cut into his jawline; a reminder of when we clashed ages back. Frozen, I didn’t breathe. That grin…it felt like a punch to the gut. You," I told him, lifting my knife against his throat. I said no proxies. This transaction is mine. I felt my defenses crumble as Zane entered; they sputtered and died. His gaze jumped from the necklace to myself, pausing at my mouth, the line of my throat. He approached gradually, mirroring a hunter stalking prey. “Jett is unwell.” “A demon’s got the shift,” he murmured, his voice like dark honey. He arrived close enough I could feel his energy — a mix of burnt wood alongside an approaching gale. The pendant flared brighter; darkness seemed to writhe around us. “Fifty thousand,” I say, pressing the blade to his ribs. It vibrates, yet he remains still. “Otherwise, watch it go up in flames - just dust delivered to your door.” A gravelly chuckle rumbles from him as his hand closes around my wrist. Heat flares - a quick shock - where his skin touches mine. I pull away, yet the spot on my arm still tingles, like fire. A worn piece of paper appears in his hand - blood-red symbols cover it. “Vexor Malice’s curse,” he says, offering it. “The collar links us; if I go, so do you. Your fall is my end.” He leans close, pressing the parchment to me. His hand met mine, a jolt racing through me. The old script declared a lasting soul connection - anima vinculum aeternum. I recoiled, my hand trembling as I slid the parchment across the table. Again Zane takes hold of my wrist, drawing me near. Warm air touches my face - his gaze is wild, metallic. “Raven,” he murmurs, barely missing my mouth, “dislike isn’t far from…other things.” My fingers tighten on the blade in my palm, yet somehow I lean into him; a strange energy thrums within me. He stumbled when I pushed - a quick jab using the coffee table for leverage. Then the necklace flared, spilling violet light everywhere. Something moved past my window. Reacting quickly, I raised my knife just as a woman walked in - her silver hair flowed, mirroring the city’s glow. Violet eyes glittered, her gown shimmered - moonlight made real. A deliberate clap, a smile that felt sharper than steel. “Charming,” she offered, a voice both sweet yet dangerous. She approached, breezing past my protections like they weren’t even present. “Talia Vex is the name. As for that hex…?” “That’s my brother Vexor’s doing,” she said, her gaze darting between the necklace, Zane, myself. She knew what it held. Collaborate, she insisted - otherwise, we wouldn’t see sunrise She wants the necklace, yet I block her path, a knife gripped firmly in my hand. Zane’s touch - a light caress - slides down my spine, igniting warmth despite my coat. Each pulse echoes the curse that flares wherever he touches me. Her grin grew as Talia’s eyes found me. With a whirl of fabric, she was gone - simply dissolved into the darkness beyond the glass, akin to dissipating vapor. A fierce grip clamps on my arm - Zane. His gaze is intense, almost predatory. “Raven,” he rasps, “this is happening with both of us.” I wrench free, a throb lingering in my limb. Light spills from the necklace; darkness dances on the walls. The knife gripped tight, I watched the window, pulse hammering.