“Quick?” I asked, stepping closer to where he was hunched.

“As in speaking quickly?” He tossed me a smug look, then faced away. “This place is mine. I own all of it.”

I said humorlessly, “Congratulations on owning a room where guys can kill each other for cash.”

“Not kill each other. Not normally, anyway.” He shoved some papers aside. “There are rules in the Dog House, Huxton. Not many, but we have them. Be on time, don't miss a fight, don't back down from a fight... and no weapons.”

Running my fingers through my scalp, I sighed. “Everything else goes, though?”

“Everything else goes. Whatever it takes to be the last man standing. There's no rounds, it goes until one guy can't fight or taps out.” Nehro straightened, offering me a pair of fingerless, slightly padded blue gloves. “Here, these will keep you from busting your hands up too badly. Don't want you getting so injured you can't keep fighting for our dear Zoe Lillith out there.”

Lillith. So that's her last name. It was pretty, and it fit her. I loathed that Nehro had been the one to reveal it to me.

Taking the gloves, I hefted them; they were good quality. “Why do you care if I get hurt or not?”

“More fights means more money for me.” Glancing up, he eyed the clock. “And for you. Come on, let's hurry up.”

Nehro slid around me, waving me back out into the basement. “Wait,” I said, following after him. “Money for me? What are you talking about?”

The bell dinged, the hush of the crowd growing into eager cheers. Nehro pointed at my gloves; I got the hint, starting to strap them on. In the ring, I saw the guy who had to be Magnus. He was lean, definitely smaller than me. Blonde as lemonade and bare of almost any ink.

Zoe's confidence that I'd win made a lot of sense, now.

Struggling through the bodies, I perched on the chalk outline with Nehro at my side. He was speaking, but the screams were making it hard to hear. “Money, as in what you get as a reward,” he said in my ear.

“I know what money is!”

“Then you know you want it. And I pay well for these fights. I have to,” he added, smiling crookedly. “No one would bother, otherwise.”

In my mind, Zoe's face flashed. I looked for her across the way, trying to spot her among the flailing bodies. “What about Reese?” I asked, tightening the last strap on my gloves. “He fought for Zoe and didn't take a cent. Same as I plan to.”

Nehro stepped back, his brows smoothing into a placid stare. “If you thought he wasn't skimming off the top, you're wrong. He always claimed half.” Laughing, the lanky man spun away, heading for the edge of the ring. His last words threaded to me, somehow avoiding every bark or shout. “Take your cut of the grand. Risking your life for free... No one does that.”

Drums filled my skull. Everything was muffled, noise swirling until it was just a singular, ringing bell.

Reese was taking a cut of the pay.

Half of Zoe's money.

Even from a distance, I swear, Nehro was grinning at me—and only me. “Magnus versus Huxton! Betting is closed, folks. Standard rules, no weapons, and no mercy.”

No mercy.

Ding. The bell was louder than the one commanding my mind. It sank in, pulled me forward. Back into reality, back to where I was.

Back to who I was.

Nehro thought no one risked their life for free?

He didn't know anything about me.

Magnus was coming my way. Glancing at him, I lifted my chin and stared down Nehro. Violently, I ripped the gloves off that he'd given me. I threw them to the ground, kicked them aside.

Nehro arched an eyebrow, but that was all.

Whirling, I flexed my hands and moved towards Magnus. He was stunned, he must have thought I was insane. He looked like a lightweight boxer, I looked like a guy who'd come in off the street after attending a tattoo convention. Plus, I'd just thrown away my only real gear.

I didn't fucking care what anyone thought about me.

No one but her.

Magnus ducked, avoiding my first hit. I wasn't patient, not tonight. Rage was whispering in my ear and it was hungry for me to act. Following after the blonde, I loomed over him and watched his leg fly.

The kick was low, sharp—it'd leave a bruise on my thigh for sure. The crowd was barking again, a roar of madness.

Yes, that's right. We're not men in this place.

We're just rabid dogs.

Flying forward, I tackled Magnus to the floor. He was slippery, writhing away—but I crushed my hand into his hair and pulled him back. Holding him by the shoulders, I wrenched his face towards the cement with every bit of energy I had.

And right then... I had lots of it.

God, the way everyone cheered—they were as insane as me. Their bloodlust was no different. But I had a reason. I wanted this fight over fast.

There was another man I had an agenda with.

Magnus groaned, clawing at me. He could get no hold, his fists were wrapped too thickly in their gloves. Again, I slammed him into the floor. Again, the air became a chorus of delighted screams.

Honestly, I was tempted to howl, too.

Magnus stopped struggling. Someone rang a bell. Lifting my eyes, I tore my vision over and through and across every single face. I was looking for one person. I thought—for a second—that I spotted Zoe.

But then I found him.

And then I no longer cared.

Throwing Magnus aside, I flexed my hands and felt nothing. Reese had been watching the fight. I could see it in his eyes, that flicker of surprise and terror. I approached, fast and determined.

He didn't have a fucking chance.

“Huck!”

She was shouting my name. I ignored her.

Blood pumped through my veins like a train off the tracks. It careened and pushed me, threw me forward. Something was burning on one hand—it was distant. Meaningless.

“Huck! Huck, stop!”

Zoe grabbed my forearm, bringing me back to Earth. The blue of her eyes contrasted against the red dripping from my knuckles. Most of the stains were from Reese.

He was sprawled on the ground, sitting up on his elbows. Crimson leaked down his chin to his shirt. I'd broken his nose with my fist.

If Zoe hadn't pulled at me, tugging me towards the stairs, I would have hit him again.

Reese spit to the side, glaring at me with cold hatred. “You piece of shit! Get back here!”

Temptation struck—I wanted to slam into his stupid fucking face again. I wanted to shatter his teeth. I ached to make Reese bleed, to hurt.

To pay.

Skimming off the top. Those words. Lifting my head, I scanned furiously for Nehro—spotted him nearby. No emotion shone in his stare.

I shouted, throat ripping with fiery grit. “You're unbelievable! How can you live with yourself?”

Nehro said nothing. Lifting his head, he spun and vanished into the crowd. People swarmed forward, crouching to check on Reese.

Zoe struggled to pull me up the stairs once more. “Come on, let's get out of here!”

Reese was helped to his feet. Wiping his mouth, he squinted at his palm—then pointed at me. “You're a dead man. You know that, right?”

My smile slid over my lips, sizzling with my disgust. “Everyone dies, Reese. Some of us go painlessly.” Turning away, I broke eye contact. “Here's a tip; you won't be one of them.”

In my head, I still saw his busted face—still longed to shred it to the bone. It haunted me long after Zoe forced me from the Dog House. Red blurred my vision. It was my companion, staying and smothering me until that wonderful woman shoved me against cool stone.

“Huck, are you okay?” she asked, insistent.

Moving my eyes, I saw we were surrounded by unfamiliar buildings. Everything was dark, quiet. The perfume of sweat and brutality was gone. “Where are we?”

She put her palms on my cheeks, felt my forehead. “Not far, we walked for five minutes or so.”