I can taste copper the minute I step through the ring. The flashing neon lights of the Viper Pit cut through the haze—red, blue, green tubes flashing over the faces of the crowd. Heat pushes down. I can feel it in my bones.
The bell rings. Facing me, Cruz cracks his knuckles. He smirks as if he already won. I do not blink. I move into my guard and assess him: left foot lead, raised shoulders, eyes focused on my shoulders.
I feign low. He reacts too much. I spin and bury my shoulder in his ribcage. His breath rushes out of him. The mob is insane. Adrenaline hits me like a wave. I ride it. My gloves flash, connecting: chin, chest, kidney.
Cruz staggers. I press the attack—jab, cross, elbow. He's bleeding nose. My heart's racing, keeping the beat of the Pit's subwoofer. Each punch counts. No wasted motion.
He tries to slam a right hook into me. I duck, slide. My punch lands on his jaw. He drops to one knee. I don't think. I throw a left to put him out of his misery.
The ref steps in. "Enough!" His voice cuts through the noise. Cruz crumples. I loom over him, chest still pumping, sweat stinging my eyes. The crowd is shouting my name: "Ivy! Ivy!"
I climb the ropes and thrust my arms upwards to heaven. The neon signs dance, spelling NEON QUEEN. I give them this moment. They've earned it every night with their bets and blood money.
In the background, I remove my gloves. My sister appears in front of my mind: Lena, sixteen, with her notebook clutched tightly to her chest. She had said she was working on something huge—something that would shake the world. But the diary went missing two nights ago.
A hand rests on my shoulder. Gio, my corner man, looks me up and down. "Clean fight. But you lost focus there in the third."
I wipe sweat off my towel. "Cruz got sloppy." My voice is gruff. I don't want to admit that I was thinking about Lena.
He glares at me. "You sure everything's all right?"
I paste on a smile. "Fine." I move away.
Gio stands there for a moment, then heads off. I see my bag behind a folding table. Gloves, wraps, water bottle. I unzip it and freeze: a worn leather diary is lying on top.
I didn't take it.
My heart races. I release the water bottle. It shatters. The deafening crack causes every head to swivel in my direction. Gio turns around. A thug wearing a Serafino jacket steps out of the shadows.
"Looking for this?" He holds the diary by its spine. My heart tightens. I notice the Serafino crest: a black snake encircling a red dagger. Mateo's family.
I reach for it. He sidesteps and smiles. "Belongs to my employer. You'll turn it over without a struggle."
"Where is Lena?" I snap. I step forward. The pages of the diary flutter open—drawings I recognize: symbols, runes, the words Project Nocturne.
The thug laughs. "Your sister is fine. But this book is worth more than she is."
Gio steps in between us. "You're not going anywhere with that."
The thug shrugs. "He can try." He cracks his knuckles. His goons move out, blocking all the doors.
I glance over at Gio. His jaw is set. "Let her go," I say, voice steady. "Take me instead."
The thug's lips curl into a sneer. "We'll see if you can earn it.".
They shove me into a black SUV that's waiting in the rear of the Pit. I'm shoved onto the seat and one of the henchmen slams the door shut behind me. I knock my head against the window. Stars burst behind my eyes. My gloves are still in my backpack. I can't fight. Not here.
The engine roars. We pull away. Behind me, in the tinted glass, I watch the Pit shrink—my home, my battleground, my life. Now it resembles a pen.
Inside, the thug closes in. His breath stinks of cheap booze. "You fight for them now. Two weeks, you get your sister back."
I seethe with rage, and I want to spit out blasphemy. But I bow my head. I'll play their game—until I can escape. Until Lena is safe.
He smirks and tosses the diary into my lap. "Read. Learn. And don't be stupid."
The pages flip as I grasp the corner. Symbols that mean nothing to me, but the writing, I recognize. Lena's. My stomach knots into knots. Whoever taught her magic can twist bodies—and souls.
A blast of fear and fury carries me up. The car takes a straightaway lined with shattered streetlights. At its terminus, an iron gate guard—barracks.
The thug exits. "Welcome to Serafino Estate."
The gate creaks wide.
My fingers curl around the diary. I clutch it to my chest. My heart echoes the metallic swish of the gate.
Outside those walls lies the key to Project Nocturne. And the power that can save Lena—or destroy us both.
The SUV glides in and out of the courtyard. I lift my gaze. The windows of the mansion stare back at me like empty eyes. Shadows leap behind colored glass.
I swallow hard. This battle is only just starting. And in here, the rules are mine to break.