The neon sign buzzed in the distance, half the letters burnt out, spelling something crooked and obscene in the smoky night.
The nightclub pulsed faintly with music, a low, vibrating thrum that wormed through the alley walls like a heartbeat. To any other late-night wanderer, it was a den of shadows and sin. But to Layla, staring at it through the haze, it looked like a death sentence painted in light.
"We're not going in there," she said flatly.
"Oh, but we are." Rhea's smirk gleamed beneath the flickering neon. "Trust me, darling, it's safer than it looks."
Cole barked out a humorless laugh. "Safer? You want us to drag Isla into a club crawling with who-knows-what while the hive's out for blood? Are you insane?"
"Always," Rhea replied sweetly.
Isla stirred weakly against Cole's chest. Her voice was faint, but steady. "Layla… she's right."
Layla turned sharply. "No. You're barely conscious, Isla. You don't even know what you're agreeing to."
"I do," Isla whispered. "I can feel them. The hive. They're everywhere. But that place…" Her gaze drifted toward the neon glow, pupils shrinking as sparks flickered faintly across her eyes. "They don't see inside there. It's… muffled."
A chill slithered down Layla's spine.
"You're saying it's shielded," she muttered.
"Or cursed," Cole snapped. "Same difference. Either way, walking into unknown ground when we're already bleeding is suicide."
"Or survival," Rhea purred. She stepped closer, her shadow long and sharp against the alley wall. "Face it, children. You have two options: run through the open streets until the hive swarms you, or step into my playground where they can't follow. Choose wisely."
Layla's fists clenched. She hated Rhea. She hated that smirk, that smug tilt of her voice, that maddening way she was always one step ahead.
But Isla was shaking violently now, static crackling across her skin. Cole's flames couldn't keep the hive back forever. And Layla knew one truth she couldn't ignore:
They had no other choice.
"Fine," Layla hissed. "We go inside. But Rhea—" Her eyes locked on the woman's, cold steel against wild fire. "If this is a trap, I'll end you before anyone else gets the chance."
Rhea's lips curved wider, delight sparking in her gaze. "Darling, you make threats sound like love letters."
The nightclub's heavy doors groaned open with a shove, spilling them into a wash of violet and crimson light.
The bass hit instantly—loud, pounding, primal. The air stank of sweat, smoke, and something metallic that made Layla's stomach turn.
Bodies moved on the dance floor like shadows caught in strobe lightning. Their faces were blurred by dim light, their movements jerky, unnatural. For a horrifying second, Layla thought they were hive puppets.
But then one laughed. Another shouted. The hive didn't laugh.
Still, unease prickled down her spine.
Cole tightened his hold on Isla, keeping her close as his flames dimmed to glowing embers at his fists. "I don't like this," he muttered.
"No one does," Layla replied.
Rhea, on the other hand, sauntered forward like she owned the place. Heads turned as she passed, the crowd parting with an instinctive unease.
"Why does it feel like everyone knows her?" Cole growled.
"Because they do," Layla said grimly.
Rhea led them past the dance floor, weaving through smoke and shadows until they reached a stairwell lit by a single flickering bulb. She slipped down it without hesitation, forcing the others to follow.
The music faded with each step, replaced by silence broken only by dripping water.
At the bottom lay a hidden chamber—stone walls lined with glowing glyphs that pulsed faintly, casting the room in eerie blue light.
Layla froze. "What the hell is this?"
Rhea spun on her heel, spreading her arms dramatically. "Welcome to sanctuary, darlings. The only place in this city where the hive's whispers can't reach."
Cole's eyes narrowed, flames sparking dangerously. "And why, exactly, do you know about it?"
"Because I built it," Rhea said simply.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Layla stepped forward, her voice sharp as glass. "You built this? You mean to tell me you've been sitting on a safehouse while the rest of us bleed in the streets?"
Rhea's smirk faltered for the first time. Her eyes, though, were unapologetic. "I told you—I dance with monsters. You fight them head-on like fools. I survive."
Cole surged forward, fire blazing. "You selfish—"
"Stop!" Isla's weak cry broke through, her voice trembling but fierce.
Everyone froze. Isla, pale and sweating, had pushed herself from Cole's grip to stand unsteadily on her own. Static flickered around her fingers.
"Enough fighting," she whispered. "The hive is still out there. And if this place really blocks them, then it doesn't matter who built it. We need it."
Layla's chest tightened. Isla looked so fragile, yet her words carried more weight than any flame or blade.
Cole's fire dimmed reluctantly. Layla let out a slow breath.
Rhea, of course, smiled again. "See? The little spark gets it."
But before relief could settle, the glyphs on the wall pulsed violently. Blue turned to red. The ground trembled beneath their feet.
Isla staggered, clutching her head. "They found us…"
Layla's heart dropped. "Impossible. You said this place was shielded!"
Rhea's smirk vanished entirely. For the first time, her mask cracked. "It is. Or—it was."
The chamber doors slammed shut with a metallic clang. The air filled with the shriek of static.
And then—voices. Countless, overlapping, whispering through the walls.
"...ours… ours… she is ours…"
Cole roared, flames bursting to life around him. "Let them come!"
Layla drew her blade, the steel humming with her pulse. Isla's sparks flickered dangerously, threatening to ignite again.
And Rhea? She laughed. A wild, sharp laugh. "Well then… looks like the dance floor just got interesting."