Blind World (The Onyx Fox Saga Book 1)

by H. M. Rutherford

  “You’re supposed to be a superhero, but you’re walking right in the middle of the street,” he noted.

  Her self-consciousness only lasted a moment. “You’re the one who told me no one is around.”

  “It was just a funny observation.”

  She rolled her eyes but quickly let it go. “Don’t worry, Stud. Next time I’ll try dark alleys and rooftops. That’s where a girl finds a catch like you, huh?” She turned to catch his reaction.

  But he remained silent in the dark.

  So, she chuckled, amused, and continued down the road.

  Together, they moved within the shadows, he following the sour smell of cheap cologne and she the pull of her intuition. They walked for several minutes, traveling deeper into a more inhabitable part of town. The pitch darkness slowly made way for the soft glow of the occasional light.

  Great, Suzette grumbled to herself.

  Suddenly, a man’s cry rang out through the crisp night.

  In an instant, they both darted forward toward the sound coming from a cluster of closed shops. With each step, the sound grew more tormented. As they drew closer, the screaming ceased. They rounded a corner of a dark street to see two figures, one on the ground, the other hunched over it on its knees.

  Suzette darted forward into the street.

  Abraham jerked her up by the arm and pinned her against a brick wall with one big arm. He shook his head at her and pointed to a car parked a little ways down, closer to the pair they’d spotted. Then he crept over to the car, eyes locked on the figures. Suzette followed behind, still unsure why they were waiting. When they got to the side of the vehicle, they knelt down and peered over the hood to observe.

  Suzette took in the leaning figure—a woman. She muttered frantically under her breath, her fingers moving swiftly over the stiff body under her. She let out a scared squeal and propped up on her knees, glancing around. She pulled her tawny hair back out of her face, revealing a long, curved nose and thin lips. Then her attention quickly went back to the body and she crouched down over it again.

  Suzette knew instantly who she was. Though the woman looked like the same, sane woman in the file, there was definitely something wrong. Suzette’s intuition led her to stand and walk around the car. She could see in her peripheral the shadow of Abraham’s arm reaching out to grab her. She quickly swerved from it and asked with great gentleness, “Hester?”

  The woman froze at the name, a small huff escaping her like the sound a deer made when it sensed its peace was disturbed. She glanced over her shoulder at Suzette and then turned back to the body, lurching herself over it. “No—no!” she gasped. “It’s not done! Please, go away!”

  “Hey, you’re okay.” Unsure of what to expect, Suzette lowered herself and set out her empty hands.

  At the gesture, Hester flinched and fell back on her hands, revealing Vinnie’s lifeless body. With his button-up shirt ripped open, Suzette could see lots of blood, though she couldn’t make out a distinct letter in the dark. Hester sat herself up and Suzette could see dark liquid dripping off of her long, slender fingers as her hands drew closer to her face.

  A slight motion drew Suzette’s attention to behind the woman.

  Abraham had slunk close to the wall of the building across the street. He gave Suzette a quick rattle of the head before slowly creeping toward the woman.

  “He deserved it! I could see his sin!” Hester defended quickly, a desperate, unhinged look in her eyes. Almost giddy, she crawled a little closer toward Suzette, away from the body. “I had to end it! I couldn’t let his sin continue!”

  Suzette’s mouth hung open, unsure of how to respond. She could see his sin? What does she mean?

  Hester waited for Suzette to agree, but it didn’t happen. Her wild look turned into a scared, guilty one. “He was bad! Don’t you see? I had to do it!”

  Suzette flicked her gaze over at Abraham, who pinched the bride of his nose as he stooped over the body. Then his eyes locked back on his prey and he started around Vinnie’s corpse in a crouched, stealthy position.

  Suzette returned her gaze to Hester and she lowered to one knee, arms still stretched out in a gesture of peace. “I’m sure he was bad, but—”

  “But what?” Like a switch, Hester’s eyes were untamed once more. “But he didn’t deserve to die? Is that what you think?!”

  Abraham tensed and rose to his feet.

  Suzette lowered her voice. “Hester, calm down. You—”

  “You think I’m wrong—you think I’m crazy?! How dare you judge me!”

  Confused, Suzette teetered back, her hands lowering. “What? No!”

  Hester abruptly scooted back toward the body.

  Both Suzette and Abraham froze at the sudden movement, each ducking slightly lower, prepared for a fight.

  Hester glared at Suzette. “I bet you’re no better than him,” she snarled, pointing toward the body.

  Suzette watched something hateful ignite in Hester’s eyes, but before she could catch the full effect of the glare, Suzette’s head jerked away, almost by itself. Confused by the involuntary action, she tried to look back at the woman, but her head twitched away again. This time, she recognized her instinct and acquiesced.

  “Why aren’t you looking at me?” Hester asked desperately. “Look at me!”

  Suzette’s head remained tilted away, but her eyes caught Abraham quietly stand up behind the woman. Hester gasped and Suzette could feel the invisible restraint free itself from her. She turned and saw Hester scream and scramble backward before Abraham could grab her, as if suddenly sensing the man’s presence.

  Abraham stood back up and set out a hand, contemplating his enemy.

  Hester trembled at the very sight of the man and began crawling away, whimpering as if in pain, her arm thrown over her eyes as if she couldn’t bear the sight. “Monster!” She glared at him from over her shoulder. “Devil! I see you! All your sin!” Then she turned and kept scrambling. When she was far enough away, she sat up and bashed her head with her fists, screaming, “Cretin! Hell-spawn! Oh, wicked demon!”

  Abraham advanced, each step closer met with an insult from the tormented woman.

  “I see you!” she bellowed as he stopped before her. “You’re the vilest of them all! I see you!”

  Abraham snatched Hester up, bringing her face to meet his.

  “Don’t look at her!” Suzette didn’t understand the warning, but she gave it anyway.

  Hester, tears of terror streaming down her cheeks, grabbed his face and met his eyes. “Look at what you’ve done!”

  Abraham tensed as he met Hester’s stare but said nothing.

  Suzette waited to see what Abraham would do but nothing happened. Instead, he and Hester seemed to just be staring. Suzette took a cautious step forward.

  Abraham grunted, shook his head, then threw Hester to the ground with ease, breaking whatever hold she had had on him. He stumbled, turned shakily toward Suzette, and nodded toward the recovering woman, his face firm.

  Suzette understood his nod but didn’t know what to do. She must have one heck of a power, she thought, hesitating. But she quickly threw herself into action, letting her instinct guide her. She ran at Hester and plowed the woman back to the ground before she could regain her footing. Straddling her chest, Suzette pressed her knees against Hester’s arms to hold them down and set a hand over Hester’s eyes.

  “No! No!” Hester growled through her teeth as she tried to shake free. “Monster!”

  “Calm down, Hester,” Suzette said, trying to sound calm. “We just want to help. Just let us help you.”

  Hester’s body relaxed ever so slightly.

  “We just want to help,” Suzette repeated.

  After a few more repetitions, Hester fell out of her hysteria and slowly loosened until she became limp underneath Suzette. All Hester could muster was a soft sob. “What’s wrong with me? I don’t want to hurt anyone—I don’t. It’s a lie.”

  Suzette’s heart sank at the
woman’s torment. “It’s not you,” she explained, trying to comfort her. “It’s a chemical in your body. Dr. Henry Jekyll put it in you and—”

  “I know that name!” Hester whispered. Slowly, her breathing grew more rapid. “I know that name!” The hysteria kicked back in. “I’ll find him! I’ll give him justice! He did this to me!”

  Suzette struggled to keep her restrained. “No, Hester—please!” Suzette pleaded. “Calm down! Please—”

  A shrill of sirens went off in the distance, cutting Suzette off.

  Suzette worriedly glanced over her shoulder then felt a sudden pain jolt through her gut. Before she knew it, she was on her back. Clutching her stomach, Suzette looked up to find Hester scrambling away into the darkness. She then turned to see if Abraham would pursue her but froze.

  He was gone.

  Baffled, she looked around the empty scene. Where did he go? She sat there for a moment, trying to make sense of the last few seconds.

  The sirens drew closer, shaking her out of her thoughts.

  Suzette got up and darted away, going back the way she had come; more darkness to cover her that way. Abraham will take care of Hester, she hoped. The thought of getting left out of another encounter left Suzette a little miffed, especially since she wasn’t sure what Abraham would do when he got the woman. But there was nothing she could do about it now. This isn’t over.

  —

  “Hey.”

  Dante stirred at the sound but felt too peaceful to even bother acknowledging it. The peace he felt was one he had never experienced before. With a sigh, he settled.

  “Heeeey!”

  A hard smack jolted him awake. As his eyes opened, he took in the morning light as it shone brightly across a beautiful face.

  An angry face.

  Confusion flooded through his frazzled morning brain. “Hmmm?”

  Cleo stood over him, wrapped in a towel with her hand on her hip. “What do you think you’re still doin’ here?”

  What kind of question was that? “Uuuuuuh,” was all that came and he waited to see if that was acceptable.

  “You should have left last night!” she grumbled, stomping over to his clothes piled up on the floor. She picked them up and threw them in his face with a force that made him wince. “Now, take your crap and leave!”

  Befuddled, Dante propped himself up on his elbow and stared at his shirt. Was this really happening? He was supposed to have left right afterward? Weird. Didn’t girls like the whole cuddling and waking-up-in-his-arms thing? He thought they did, or at least that’s what he had heard. So, why was she hurrying him out?

  Her pressing glare forced him to move and put his shirt on.

  Yanking it over his head, he thought, Maybe I can take her out somewhere nice next time. Then we can redo this. “When can I see you again?”

  She let out a scoff. “Sorry, toots. We won’t be doing this again. I thought it would be fun to mess around with someone a little less experienced, but I didn’t know you were that inexperienced.”

  Dante’s eyes fell to the ground, his face burning with embarrassment. Frustrated, he swung his legs off the bed and tugged his jeans on, not quite sure how to respond. “Sorry I was such a disappointment.”

  She folded her arms and gave him a condescending smirk. “Oh, well. You live, you learn. I guess my boyfriend will have to do.”

  Before he could contemplate her words, they heard the door downstairs open and slam closed. Her eyes grew wide and she cursed to herself.

  Dante froze.

  “Get out!” she hissed, waving her arms at him as if she could just waft him away into thin air. Then she turned to the open bedroom door and took a few hesitant steps out, disappearing from view. “Tony?” she called.

  No response.

  “Tony, baby, how was work?”

  “Don’t talk to me, Cleo! I’m not in the mood!” came a rough, booming response.

  “What happened?” she asked, her footsteps creaking on the stairs. She gasped.

  Dante’s heart clenched and he hurried out the door, down the hall, and stared down over the banister.

  “Baby, what happened to your face?!” Cleo guided her big Italian boyfriend to the couch.

  “The operation didn’t go down like we planned and now the boss ain’t happy! All ‘cause some dumb superhero-wannabe came and roughed us all up—all four of us!”

  Cleo gave Dante a quick glance before disappearing into the kitchen. “All four of you? That don’t sound right. Just one person did that?” When she came back, she held a cold steak in her hand. She pressed it over Tony’s eye and glared up at Dante. With an angry jerk of her head, she gestured to the door.

  Dante quietly began his descent down the stairs.

  Tony’s breathing grew louder. “Yeah, Cleo, just one person!” he snapped, throwing his head around. The woman tried to keep the meat pressed against his face. “She called herself the Onyx Fox, or something stupid like that.”

  Dante’s feet paused on the steps. The Onyx Fox—here? No way.

  Cleo’s face scrunched up at his sluggishness.

  Dante quickly made his way down and began tip-toeing toward the door. Almost there.

  “The pigs got Mickey and Slim, no one’s heard from Vinnie, and the boss is blamin’ me!” Tony roared, snatching up one of the couch’s pillows and hurling it.

  Cleo reeled back, letting the pillow knock one of the lamps off a side table.

  Dante quickly turned to the door and grabbed the knob.

  “Who’s this?!”

  He froze and glanced over his shoulder.

  Tony now stood. His face was bright red, eyes wide, jaw clenched.

  “This is…nobody, baby,” Cleo tried.

  Dante felt mortified. But as he stood there, he felt a simmering anger rise for being so carelessly used by Cleo. The rage fed him confidence. Instead of retreating, he straightened and faced the jealous boyfriend, mirroring Cleo’s own condescending smirk. “Don’t worry, buddy. I slept with your girlfriend, and now I’m done with her. Have a nice day.” Without waiting to see their reactions, Dante slipped out the door and closed it quietly behind him.

  As he walked away, he could hear screams and shouts as the couple seemed to devour each other. The farther he journeyed down the street, the faster his pace grew, expecting any moment for the boyfriend to run out the door and charge him.

  When Dante got deep into the city, he slowed his pace, the realization suddenly hitting him. Did I really just have sex—and with some girl who has a boyfriend? Once it all sunk in, he walked, head low. Well, he did it—and so what? It wasn’t worth it to be kicked to the curb like nothing.

  But the look on that guy’s face…, a voice chuckled inside of him.

  Dante grinned a little at the thought. It was funny. Cleo’s comments, however, were not. They haunted Dante’s thoughts as he trudged through the crowds of people. He had been so caught up in enjoying himself that he hadn’t stopped to think if she had been enjoying herself. But the more he dwelt on it, the more he realized he didn’t want to care. Sex had made him feel great, and that’s all that mattered. So, why not just let women use him like Cleo had? No need to make a connection with a girl. He could just get what he wanted and go. Get his satisfaction and move on before any of them could break his heart or his pride.

  Dante smiled at that thought and put a little swagger into his step, feeling so much more alive than he had ever felt before. His world had burned down around him but now he was going to rise from the ashes a new man.

  —

  Dorian woke to a heavy, throbbing head. He hadn’t felt so out of control in such a long time. He thought he was past such immature anesthetics such as alcohol. What had he done last night? His head thumped in a smooth, steady rhythm as he tried to remember anything from the night before.

  Groaning, he slowly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the couch. The movement only intensified the throbbing. He grabbed his head and moaned as misery seeped throu
ghout his whole body. Hadn’t someone else been a part of his little drinking escapade or did he have another relapse? Thinking about the possibility of falling back into the past only filled Dorian with dread. The memory of beautiful, blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair tormented him. He pressed his eyes closed and rubbed his temples, hoping to push the haunting memories down again. As the sorrow melted away, he pulled his heavy eyes to his watch.

  The bright number ten burned itself into his eyes. Only ten in the morning? What a load of—

  His head pounded again, like a jackhammer, so hard he could hear it. Bang, bang, bang!

  “Dorian!”

  The actor sighed at the familiar voice of the doctor. And as Jekyll pounded on the door again, so Dorian’s head pounded.

  “Dorian, let me in! Our friend left another mark! We need to move!”

  Friend? What friend? Dorian wasn’t one for friends. But he got up and groggily made his way over to the door, cupping his eyes against the bright morning sun that streamed in through the open balcony curtains.

  Three more knocks.

  Dorian paused and braced himself against the wall of the living room. “Stop! I’m coming!” he groaned, hoping the doctor heard him. Once he had recovered, he trudged over to the door and cracked it open.

  Henry looked frazzled like always, but his expression turned confused at the sight of Dorian. “You look like a mess.”

  “What do you want?” Dorian grumbled.

  Henry leaned in and whispered shakily, “She’s killed someone again.” When Dorian did not reply, he continued. “She’s definitely here, in the city. Don’t you see how important this is? We need to find her before someone else does!”

  Dorian leaned on the door frame and supported his head up on the wood. “What do you suggest?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Henry said, pushing his way into the room. “Let me take a look at the files. I need to add a few notes to hers.”

  Letting out a heavy sigh, Dorian flopped against the wall and let the twitchy redheaded doctor in. He watched disinterested as Henry hurried over to the painting, lowered it, and stared at the safe, suddenly frozen.