Kevin eyed me like he didn’t believe it but went back to holding the punching bag. “Look, this is just a gentle warning. Outcast to outcast. The whole reason they paired us up is because they think we’re the weakest.”
I shifted my feet, needing something to do other than just stand there and take his words. “What do you mean? You can move air with your hands. You could fling an opponent around. How is that weak?”
Tilting his head, he gave me a look that said he pitied the size of my brain. “That’s exactly why. Mages are capped as to how much magic we can use during a fight.”
He nodded toward the punching bag, so I went back to my jab-hook-kick combo while he kept talking in that hushed tone of his.
“Having a mage throw someone around with their power isn’t entertaining. If you want the big bucks, want to be a professional supe fighter, you need to make it a show. Something people want to watch, to root for.” He gestured to my shoulder. “Drop your left shoulder when you punch. Now, vampires can use their teeth, but they’re not allowed to suck you dry. Demons and fairies have to apply and show their magical style before they’re even admitted to try out.”
My brows pulled tight, and he sighed, his gaze flicking toward the ceiling like he was already exhausted with me. “It wouldn’t be fun to watch a demon smoke his way out of being punched for five rounds, and no one wants to see a fairy sing someone tosleep in order to win. It’s all about finding that balance of low power and ingenuity versus strength to make it exciting.”
I paused mid-combo, sweat dripping into my eyes. “What about werewolves?”
He shrugged. “They don’t have any rules. Fighting has always been a werewolf sport, run by the Rossey clan of the Syndicate.” His voice dipped lower, and I leaned in, throwing light jabs just to keep busy.
“If you don’t know your history,” he said, “the Rossey clan started as just werewolves, ruled by Manic Rossey. When his son, Ax, took over, he opened the clan to other species, but they had to prove themselves, and everyone was hesitant to change. It wasn’t until this new generation of Syndicate bosses came in that those rules got scrapped. Now, the Rosseys find a use for anyone, no matter their skill. They’re taking these fights out of the supe underground and commercializing them. Making them available to the masses.” He shrugged again. “But like all new things, they needed rules so humans could handle the bloodshed and would dump their money into betting on us.”
I stopped, wiping sweat from my face, and lifted a brow at him. “Doesn’t that piss you off? They still run those illegal underground fights, but the pay’s trash. So, the only way for someone like us to get to the professional level is to be a weaker supe and get beat up? That doesn’t sound fair.”
His smirk curved slowly, almost lazily, like my words amused him. “Fair, but that’s a human way of thinking.” Even though his face stayed smiling, his eyes flashed bright, his magic flaring up. “Nothing’s fair in life, my man. You fight for what you want. You take what you can. And you live with no regrets.”
Lifting his arm, he flexed for me. “That’s why I still keep my body sharp and train my air magic to help me in small ways, like making me faster or my hits land harder. I use just enough to throw them off balance and maybe, just maybe, get in a good shot that will go my way. Plus—” he bared his teeth in a grin—“I’m not afraid to get beat up when there’s that much money on the line. Supe money and human money are all green. More risk, more reward.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but his words lodged under my skin. It made sense in a twisted way. They couldn’t die from a few rounds of beating, not really. Still, the justice-devoted part of me flinched, feeling restless.
“Kevin! Come here a sec.”
We both turned our heads. The trainer waved him over.
“Ugh, duty calls. Be right back.” Kevin jogged off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I grabbed my water bottle and tipped it back, letting the cool liquid wash away the heat in my throat. That was when the air stirred beside me. Earthy soil laced with a sharp, metallic copper smell stung my nose, a scent that screamedvampire. My first instinct was to walk away. I had no interest in making small talk with bloodsuckers. The only thing that stopped me was the faint undertone of human in the mix. A trace that reminded me of the one she’d been with last night.
“Hey,” a voice drawled, “you’ve got good form. Decent strength.”
I glanced sideways. Leaning against the wall was a tall, lanky vampire, skin stretched over sharp bones, his slicked-back corn-yellow hair doing nothing to distract from the sunken hollows of his cheeks. His clothes hung off him like they belonged tosomeone else. My cop instincts flared. This guy was bad news, but this was a gym full of supes. Bad news was everywhere. So I stayed put, muttering, “Thanks,” before taking another drink.
“But you know it’s not enough, right? They’re still gonna set you up to fail.”
I shrugged, though irritation prickled under my skin. Why the hell was this his business?
He edged closer. A growl slipped from my throat before I could stop it.
“Easy, easy.” He held up a hand, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. “I’m trying to help you out as a fellow turned.”
That froze me. Kevin’s words echoed in my head.Turned.That explained the faint human scent. Maybe that was why Nova’s vampire had smelled similar.
Taking my silence as permission, he pressed on, his voice quickening with feverish energy. “Haven’t you ever wanted to prove it? Show them who the fuck they’re toying with? We’ve got the same urges, the same pull to dominate, but they get an advantage just because they were born that way? Don’t you want a level playing field?”
I almost told this fucker to buzz off. I didn't want anything to do with him and whatever he was offering. Nothing good could come from him.
Before I could do that, the last words from my lieutenant came to mind. After receiving my report about that first fight night, he’d called me into his office. He leaned on his desk with greedy eyes, ordering me to stay deep undercover for the long haul. He didn’t want me just sniffing around juveniles who walked on the wrongside of the road. He wanted the big fish—something that could make headlines, something he could bring to the mayor to shove the Syndicate out. Maybe this guy would lead me to the thing I needed to put the nail in the coffin.
I didn’t know where this vampire was going, but my gut told me to follow the thread.
Taking another swig of water, I muttered around the bottle, “Go on.”
He turned to face me fully this time, a grin spreading from ear to ear. Just as he opened his mouth, the gym erupted, buzzing with movement as bodies surged toward the entrance in a tidal wave.
