Blind World (The Onyx Fox Saga Book 1)

by H. M. Rutherford

  Dante?

  Dante was back on his feet, glaring at her with an intensity that reflected the fire around them. Blood trickled down his forehead.

  No, it can’t be, she thought painfully.

  But he held his arms out and she watched, bewildered, as flames materialized out of nowhere, dancing across the skin of his palms.

  “Oh, my,” she muttered. What else could she say? What else could she do but stand there and stare? It was definitely Dante. There was no mistaking his features—his alluring, black eyes; his deep, flawless tan; his straight, narrow nose; his slick, dark hair. They were forever implanted in her mind. Part of Suzette felt like she was dreaming, but he stood there before her, plain as day, still as handsome as ever. Yet, he was different. There was a hate in his eyes she had never seen before, but that wasn’t all. As he took a menacing step toward her, her stomach churned and she felt her body instinctively tense, her muscles tingling as they awaited their next maneuver.

  Bram’s voice rang in her ear, calling out to her over and over indecipherably as her thoughts swirled. What happened? How is Dante doing that? I thought—! Then it hit her. Jekyll! But she didn’t want to believe it! This was all wrong! Dante couldn’t have been an experiment; there was no file on him! What had she missed?

  Jack’s voice joined Bram’s urgent calls in her earpiece as Dante stalked toward her. Suzette’s head spun in a wild fury of emotions. Her heartbeat thumped heavily in her ears. As Dante rolled the loose flames into an orb between his hands, she realized that, yes, he too had been victimized by the cruel Dr. Jekyll. She reached up and touched the corners of her mask before she drew her fingers away.

  He acted on her moment of hesitation and threw the fireball at her.

  Suzette’s body threw her sideways, and she turned to recover.

  Dante closed the distance between them, and with both arms on fire again, he grabbed at her. She dodged and her knee went up into his stomach. Then her elbow connected with his upper back. When he flopped to the ground, she flinched, suddenly ashamed of her power.

  A sudden screech echoed above the noise of approaching sirens and she turned to the sound only to drop to her haunches as Dante’s flaming arms swung over her head. She caught a brief glimpse of a man stepping out of a black car to her right before her body forced her to turn and shuffle backward, swerving away from Dante’s pounding fists. It took every fiber of her being to dodge him and not counterattack him. But she defied her power—something she didn’t even know she could do until that moment.

  Exhausted, Dante stumbled back to catch his breath.

  “Don’t I know you, Hot Stuff?” she tried, unable to hide the bite in her voice.

  He snarled at her in response, breathless, and rested his hands on his knees.

  “You’re that fireman I saved!” she declared in faux-surprise. “What are you doing causing fires?” She forced a chuckle. “Wanted to see me again, huh?”

  He stood up and glared at her, his jaw clenched, his eyes suggesting quite the opposite. Flames ignited on his hands and spread up across his arms, singing the short sleeves of his shirt. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I wanted,” he snapped.

  She pointed to his shirt. “You’re not cold out in this winter breeze?” she said sarcastically, sweating now in her own bundle.

  He opened his mouth to counter, but a gunshot fired through the air, sending them both ducking. Suzette glanced over Dante’s shoulder.

  Officer Field’s upper body was leaned across the undercarriage of his patrol vehicle, his gun pointed in their general direction. Then he dizzily stood up, blood dripping down his whole face. He re-aimed his weapon before ducking back down behind the car as a fireball crashed into the side of it.

  “I’ve got her! Let’s go!” a foreign voice shouted.

  Suzette’s body ducked onto the ground as asphalt exploded in front of her. She rolled and covered her head as the debris pelted her back. When she looked up through the smoke, she saw Dante jump into the black car that she had caught a glimpse of earlier. As it lurched in reverse, he rolled down the back passenger window and hurled a stream of flames at her, sending her ducking back to the ground.

  “You try to find her and you’ll have to deal with me!” Dante warned. The tires screeched as the car took off down the only road not impeded with flames.

  “What’s going on?” Jack’s asked quietly through the earpiece.

  But Suzette could only think of one thing. Hester! Suzette scrambled to her feet and took off after the car. Each step fell like concrete to the ground, her spiraling emotions and fatigued body draining every ounce of energy out of her.

  “Suzette, watch out for any cops!” Bram warned.

  Just a moment after his words, more bullets zipped past her head. She glanced over her shoulder to see Officer Field trying to pursue her. Still dizzy, he stumbled and fell, stopping himself short before he hit the asphalt.

  Suzette stopped and shot her grapnel up to the roof of the nearest building. Pushing another button, the connecting line yanked her up as more bullets shot past her. Once on the roof, she forced her legs to run in pursuit of the getaway car that sped along down the road. It moved way too fast, but she was terrified to think of what could happen to Hester if she didn’t catch up. All the while, Bram’s voice buzzed in her ear. “God, don’t let him hurt her!” she wheezed as she moved from rooftop to rooftop. “Don’t let him hurt the baby!” She threw her arms on the roof of the adjacent taller building in front of her and started to hoist herself up.

  “Suzette, please—stop! Look back!” Bram begged, his voice finally making sense in her ears.

  Her legs fell back to the shorter roof under her. Breathless, she turned around and looked back until she could barely see the scene of the crime.

  The fire department had finally gotten there, already dimming the flames significantly. Police officers were scattered about and an ambulance stood by. Bram’s figure stood on top of one of the buildings close by the intersection.

  “I put a tracker on the car, Suzette.” Abraham’s rough, burly voice was surprisingly gentle. “Jack’s already on it. We’ll find Hester. Just let them go for now.”

  Suzette’s body slumped, exhausted. She quickly sprawled her arms out on the building’s side in front of her for support. Broken, she let her head rest on the hard brick and felt the tears spill out. God, why is this happening? Why did You do this? I don’t understand… Her body was more than willing to let Dante go, but her mind wanted to sprint after him and shake some sense into him.

  “Suzette,” Bram’s voice said softly, “don’t worry about—”

  She took out the earpiece and shoved it in her belt. Free from her teammate’s voice, she let out a shaky sob. Defeated, she slid down to her knees and curled herself up against the brick in front of her. She threw off her mask and wiped at her streaming eyes. “Dante, come back.”

  Epilogue

  The Countess burst through the doors of her manor, hiking up her ceremonial dress as she charged through the house. Two of her maids rushed to her side, but she hissed at them and waved them away. Zoltan followed behind her, just getting off his phone.

  “My lady, please calm down,” he begged. “Your heart can’t take it.”

  She felt his hands fall on her shoulders. Gritting her teeth, she whirled around and struck him across his face. “How dare you?!”

  He flinched and took a step back, ashamed.

  Her heart stuttered painfully and she grabbed at her chest, collapsing against the nearby wall. Her old legs shook and began to give out beneath her.

  The two maids hurried to her again and hoisted her up, helping her walk. She tried her best to use her own feet, but her stiff, aching legs wouldn’t function. Her head spun and thumped to the rhythm of her heartbeat, making everything fuzzy. When her body settled, she found herself in the sunroom, seated at her chair, peering out into the night.

  “Dear Countess, forgive my ignorance,” Zoltan said through the dark
ness.

  The sound of his voice filled her with disgust. “I looked like a fool in front of all my people,” she hissed, staring up at the blackened sky, devoid of light. “I waited until the new moon, I gathered all of my followers, had them all chant, and for what?” Her breathing grew heavy. “If you had killed that stupid girl like I had asked, I would not be as ashamed as I am! I should have known she would trick me! The only thing that made this ritual different was that stupid chemical! And if it didn’t work for Jill’s precious master, how could I expect it to work for me?!”

  “My sweet lady, forgive me!” he begged. Even in the black of the night, she could feel his terror, sense his trembling. “If I had known of her trickery, I would have ended her there for you!”

  “You know her!” the Countess shouted. “You know what she is capable of! You refused to listen to me!” Her heart shuttered again and she moaned in pain, gripping at the arms of the chair. She took a moment to breathe deeply, calming herself. Once she was able, she spoke again. “You have failed me, Zoltan.”

  She could hear his defeat in the way his breath shook. It was then that they both knew his fate.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?” she demanded.

  Zoltan was silent for a long time. Finally, he answered, “I have a bath being prepared for you.”

  She sighed, the very idea relaxing her.

  “On our way back to the mansion, I called ahead,” he said. “They’ve gathered up some girls. It should be about ready.”

  The Countess found his face in the darkness and caressed his cheek, for the last time. “Arrange someone to take care of Jill for me. I don’t care if it takes the whole Order.”

  “Of course, Countess Báthory,” he whispered. With that, he left the room.

  Elizabeth Báthory brooded in her chair, glaring out into nothingness. She replayed the scene of her failed ceremony over and over again in her head until she wanted to get up out of her chair and kill Zoltan and Jill herself. It had been so humiliating, standing in front of all the people who looked to her for guidance and doing something that was already a silly idea. Chemicals were never needed for ceremonies. They all knew that. She had taught them that. After the ritual, she had been left there disappointed and mortified. How could she recover from such a horrid display?

  Maybe there is no recovering.

  She was getting so old. Years of physical exertion further weakened her body. Her heart was failing her and the end was close at hand. She thought long and hard about all she owned—her companies, her money, her belongings. No doubt Jill had inherited everything her master had owned. The man had been smart, keeping an heir.

  If my heir were still here, I could leave everything to him and be done with this life, she thought miserably. But no, that wasn’t how it worked. She knew that. Jill was supposed to be her heir, but the idea made the Countess’s skin crawl. And besides, her heir of choice had rejected her years ago, deciding he’d rather forsake the safety of the Order. There was no one to properly take up leadership of the Order—no one but Jill. And the Countess wouldn’t let the girl replace her. She would have to find a new heir, and fast. Unfortunately, she knew no one who was qualified, even among her own followers.

  Perhaps it’s time for the Order to end. The thought haunted her and she remained still for a long moment. But then she shook off her frustrated thoughts. A bath would certainly calm her down. With a deep sigh, she pushed herself up onto her feet and made her way toward the glass doors. She did not bother closing them as she made her way out into the freezing yet refreshing night air. There were no crickets to play her a melody and all her flowers were dead or frosted over in the winter air, unable to soothe her. But her bath awaited.

  Her maids waited for her at the pool house entry and helped her make the long trek down the stairs that led into the secret cavity below the building. Once in the chamber, one of the maids turned the dim lights up just enough for one to see the beauty of the interior. The whole room was tiled in white granite and trimmed in gold lamé. The Countess loved to look at it. It had always been so dark whenever they had brought in the girls, resembling a dingy crypt. Sometimes, she liked the display in front of her better. It was something bright in her dark world, even with the ugly, ancient symbols of the Order smeared on the walls. At the heart of the room sat the huge tub, surrounded by lit candles, the steps leading up to it stained in a faded brown. She stepped toward the tub and stared over the edge at her reddened reflection on the surface and the white pentagram painted on her forehead. Her two maids appeared next to her.

  Without looking at them, Countess Báthory took off her jewelry and handed it to the first. Then the second gently assisted her out of her gown. She made her way up the steps and brought her foot down into the filled tub, watching as it disappeared into the redness—an instant relief. With both feet in, she sighed in comfort. Then she eased herself into the warm liquid until she was almost totally submerged. As she lay in the tub, she thought of the girls that helped her make the bath. They were so young, so beautiful, so full of life—and she could feel it. She basked in the glory of their life. Once, she might have been jealous of their youth and beauty, but now she could swim in it when they couldn’t. It was such a blissful feeling to know she had that power, to know their lives were hers, now.

  She took her blood-covered hands and eagerly ran them over her face, taking in the girls’ ebullience and spirit. In such a time of turmoil, this instance made the Countess feel like she literally sucked up their very essence, soaking it in through her skin. It only made her want it more. As she continued to bathe, her fingers dragged across the dried paint on her head. She stopped a moment to scrape at it with her nail. When it gave way, she brought her hands before her and watched as the white flakes were stained red at her touch. She entertained herself with this for a moment until something caught her eye.

  Her old, wrinkled hands froze and she stared at them closely. Flipping them over, she stared through the red.

  A soft, iridescent blue shone through the veil of crimson and followed the path of her veins. The large, brown age spots that covered her skin began to shrink.

  Impossible. She focused more intently at the spectacle and the more she watched, the more bewildered she became. As she absorbed the essence of the girls’ vitality, she felt overwhelmed, like she could actually feel it flowing into her innermost being. A moment of exuberance came over her, seizing her lungs so much so that she felt she couldn’t breathe. Her head rushed with energy.

  She loved it.

  Suddenly, Countess Báthory gasped for air, her head slumping back against the tub. She stayed there a moment, catching her breath. Then she opened her eyes and stared at the empty room before her, silent and still. Her hand came out of the tub and found its way to a small bell sitting on the side of the tub’s ledge. She rung it once and waited.

  Her ears picked up the sound of one of her maids quietly opening the door and rushing over. The Countess felt two hands cup underneath her arms and pull her up. It felt more awkward than she remembered. She quickly shooed the hands away. Then, bracing herself on the sides of the basin, she pushed herself up straight, but she found no difficulty in the act. She turned to the help.

  The maid’s eyes grew wide and she dropped the robe she had held in her hands. Quick to recover, she jerked it up off the ground and opened it for the Countess, her eyes never leaving her mistress, never blinking.

  Elizabeth stepped out of the tub with ease, made her way down the steps, and slipped her arms into the robe. The maid then rushed to put her mistress’s slippers on and then scurried to the door, head down, fearful, holding it open as Elizabeth began to ascend the stairs. The second maid hesitated at the sight of the Countess then tried to take her arm as she was accustomed to. Elizabeth pushed her at arm’s length and walked up the stairs leading out of the chamber herself, refusing the railing as well. Once she was out of the pool house, she stopped and took in a deep breath of the fresh night air. Th
e wind whistled louder, and though frigid, the air was easier to breathe. Everything around her looked crisper. With great pride, she walked back to the mansion.

  Alone.

  As she strolled through the house, the help stopped and stared at her, speechless. Halfway up the steps of the grand staircase, she stopped and turned to her butler. “Bring Zoltan to me,” she ordered.

  The man blinked a few times and opened his mouth, but nothing came. Quick to recover, he scurried away.

  Elizabeth continued her way up the stairs. As she entered her bedroom, she abandoned her robe and stepped into her adjoining bathroom. There, she stared deeply into her bloodied reflection.

  “You needed me, dear Countess?” Zoltan dared not enter the bathroom.

  Ignoring him, she turned on the sink facet and cupped her steady hands under the warm water until they were nearly clean. She leaned over and raked her fingers through the ends of her matted hair, watching as the blood rinsed out. Though it ran through clean after a while, her hair remained dark. She glanced back into the mirror.

  “Countess?” His voice trembled.

  “Do not worry about getting someone to take care of Jill,” she said, watching the person in the mirror echo back the words in a velvety, sultry voice. Desperate, she splashed her face with water and began to rub at her smoothed skin. Her eyes locked onto those of her reflection’s—deep and alluring with long, dark lashes. Slowly, she watched as each of her gorgeous features were rubbed clean, taking a moment to admire them individually.

  “Why is that, milady?” Zoltan asked.

  Elizabeth stood up straight and stared at her youthful self. Her body was strong and ready for anything. Smiling darkly, she turned and made her way to the doorway for Zoltan to behold her. Her grin only deepened when she saw the shock and confusion on his face.