Chapter 24 #2
Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose like he was trying to squeeze the stupid out of the world. “This is a terrible idea.”
“Yeah,” Sean said, before smirking in typical McGrath-style. “Which means it’s going to be fun.”
Levi cut the connection with a theatrical little bow and vanished.
“Okay, you guys, get out. I need to get ready.” I already felt a hair looser, like the outline of the night could pull something heavy off my shoulders.
“I’ll help,” Saoirse chimed, grinning so wide I could hear it through the Nexus. “I also have expert opinions on outfits and makeup.”
As Sean and Jackson rose, Jackson palmed a folded scrap of paper and shoved it into Sean’s hand with the solemnity of a man passing along a cursed relic.
Sean unfolded it, scowled. “The hell is this?”
“Copy of my will,” Jackson said, almost conversational. “If she gets laid tonight, please make sure the right people find it.”
Sean snorted. “Pretty sure my First Offensive will have their head long before anyone even looks at her.”
They cracked up like schoolboys who’d just pulled off a prank, still laughing as they shuffled out of my room.
I rolled my eyes at them as the door clicked shut behind them, leaving only the hum of the Nexus and Saoirse’s ever-present grin.
Spinning toward my bestie, my hands flew up in helpless disbelief. “The hell do I wear to a fight?”
Saoirse leaned closer through the glow of the connection, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Something drop dead gorgeous, of course.”
I was going to strangle Saoirse.
She made me change about twenty-five times before we finally landed on a little black dress so short you could almost see my ass. I protested, obviously, to no avail. “It’s Canada, I’m going to freeze to death.”
Saoirse waved a hand like she was simply dismissing a mosquito. “Layer like a pro. Stockings, garter, boots. Finish it off with a long red coat if you must.” She said it like she was reading from a battle plan. “Trust me. You’ll be distracting them before the first punch lands.”
I grumbled out curse words as I put on stockings and garters, and black boots that marched all the way over my knees. Saoirse talked me through makeup—heavy liner, that ridiculous smoky eye she swore would make people forget their names—and smirked as I followed along.
It felt like eighty hours had passed before I stared at myself in the mirror and hated that I had to admit I really kind of looked hot.
I also looked like I could be flirting for tips on a sketchy corner. Equal parts lethal and unethical marketing.
“Done,” Saoirse announced, grinning at me through the Nexus like she’d won the war. “You look drop dead gorgeous.”
“Drop dead or taken into custody?” I muttered, tugging at the hem that felt criminally short.
She laughed, leaning closer to the projection until her face filled the glow of the connection. “Either way, it’ll be a story. Go break some hearts, Em.”
With a mischievous little salute, she waved me off and disconnected.
Jackson and Sean were waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall with the kind of lazy posture that only came from too much Scotch and too many bad decisions.
Then they both looked up.
Their eyes went wide in perfect unison, mouths parting like they’d been punched in the gut.
Sean clutched his chest. “Jesus Christ, Em.”
Jackson blinked hard, like he needed a full system reboot. “Wow. You look…” His voice cracked halfway through, which was deeply satisfying, before he smiled warmly. “You look like trouble. The expensive kind.”
Sean nodded his head enthusiastically. “You look amazing, sis.”
I arched a brow. “Glad to have your approval, gentlemen.”
Sean grinned like he was twelve and had just discovered fire. “Levi’s gonna pass out when he sees you. Hell, half the cages are.”
“Good,” I said, as I stepped between them and tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Then maybe I’ll get what I came for.”
Jackson groaned into his hands. “We’re going to get killed.”
“Yeah,” Sean said cheerfully, falling into step beside me. “But at least we’ll die proud of our whorish sister.”
I socked him in the arm. He yelped, more offended than hurt, and rubbed the spot like a man nursing a bruise and his ego.
Jackson smirked, palms already glowing. He folded space with the lazy, dangerous grace of someone who’d done it a thousand times.
The air pinched, then folded like a curtain, and the hallway stretched into a tunnel of green light.
We jumped through the portal together, the world flipping and then snapping back into a new place with a rough shove.
We landed in the alley behind the cages with the subtlety of a dropped bomb. The scent hit us—hot, metallic, a little sweet with spilled alcohol and something fouler under it—punctuated by the thud-pulse of bass from inside.
Neon signs buzzed and threw color across faces that looked like they’d been shaped in hard choices. Men laughed too loud; women sized us up with the kind of cool interest that kept knives far too close to hand.
Jackson swore, then tried to compose himself with the dignity of someone who’d been impressed and offended in the same breath.
Sean slid an arm around my shoulders like we were three idiots on a stupid adventure.
“Stick close. Don’t do anything heroic unless you plan on surviving it.
” His grin was all warning and promise. I tightened my boot on the cobbles, felt the weight of the night settle around us, and walked forward—heels clicking, heart thudding—into the roar.
We hadn’t even cleared the alley when Levi appeared, leaning against the rusted gate like he’d been waiting just for us. The moment his eyes landed on me, his grin sharpened, like a cat spotting dinner.
“Well, well.” His gaze dragged down, back up, lingering far too long. “You clean up…dangerously.”
I arched a brow. “I dress to kill.”
Sean coughed into his fist, muttering something that sounded like “suicidal.” Jackson simply glared, jaw tight enough to crack a tooth.
Levi pushed off the gate, easy swagger in every step as he closed the distance. “No magic past the doors, house rule. Keeps the fights honest.” He winked like he’d just told me something scandalous. “We’re in the Human World, so don’t even think about cheating. Drinks?”
Before I could answer, he tipped his head and slid into the crowd, cutting through it like he owned the place. Maybe because he did.
The noise pressed in: cheers, jeers, the heavy beat of fists slamming against metal cages. I leaned closer to Sean. “So, what exactly are we watching here?”
Sean’s expression darkened. “Fights to the death.” His voice was flat, a soldier’s cadence. “No refs, no rules. Weapons, fists, whatever you can get your hands on. Last one standing walks out.”
“Walks?” Jackson scoffed. “Crawls, more like.”
I blinked, the roar of the crowd swelling as if to punctuate his words. “People cheer for that?”
Sean’s gaze swept the pit below. “They don’t cheer for the fight. They cheer for the end.”
The ground shuddered as another body hit the floor, and the crowd erupted in a frenzy of cheers, stomps, and howls that rattled the cages.
“Who the hell takes part in such fights?” I asked, wincing as two men dragged the limp fighter out by his ankles like discarded meat.
Sean shrugged, his tone matter of fact. “Mostly people with nothing to lose. Some do it for the money. Some for the adrenaline. And then some to blow off steam.”
I snorted, then shook my head. “We should introduce them to a late-night Pilates class instead.”
Sean barked a laugh, the sound unexpected over the roar of blood-hungry people. “Pretty sure snapping a guy’s spine is their version of a downward dog.”
I wrinkled my nose, still watching the crimson smear across the dirt floor. “Remind me again why we thought this would be fun?”
Sean gave me a sidelong look, mouth curling right as Levi reappeared with three drinks balanced effortlessly in one hand, his damn smile still aimed squarely at me. “Because after a week of fighting humans,” Sean drawled, “we clearly hadn’t had our fill of death yet.”
Levi handed Jackson his drink, passed one to Sean, and saved the last for me, his fingers brushing mine a fraction too long. I shivered at the touch, and it wasn’t the good kind.
“You picked a good night to come,” he said, the words carrying easily over the crowd.
“There’s a newcomer in the ring tonight.
” Levi leaned in, like he was letting us in on the best kind of scandal.
“Fresh blood. But not green. Word is, he’s torn through half the underground circuit already, never lost, never hesitated.
But he’s never stepped into one of my cages, so I’m very excited to see where it goes tonight. ”
Jackson took a slow sip of his drink, unimpressed. “Perfect. Another butcher with impulse control issues. Just what the world needed.”
“Mm.” Levi tilted his head, his thumb dragging once along his knuckles. “Difference is, you’ll recognize this one.”
Before I could ask who it was, the crowd surged louder, feet pounding against the metal stands as the gate to the pit creaked open.
I turned as the gate screeched open. A tall figure stepped out beneath the harsh floodlights, the crowd’s noise dimming to a dull hum in my ears.
His shoulders were squared, every line of his body coiled with that same contained violence I knew all too well. Each step he took was sharp, like he was built for this place.
The lights cut across his face, carving familiar angles out of shadow. For a heartbeat I thought it had to be a trick, but the set of his jaw, the tilt of his head, and the impossible calm in the storm, none of that belonged to a stranger.
He lifted his chin as he scanned the crowd. Even from across the pit, I felt how the space between us seemed to narrow until it was only him and me.
Caden.