Vixen (1) – Re-upload

Chapter 1: “Come waste your millions here… she burns like the sun…”

The razor sharp blade of her sword was soundless as it slit through the flesh of the drug lord’s throat like warm butter. Javier, however, made an attempt at screaming for help from his guards, all lifeless in a pool of their own blood outside the door, but could only gurgle and spit up his own blood as he watched the assassin pull the sword away in one final sweep, and then his life was over.

“One less sick fuck like you to torture little girls in his basement,” she growled. His idea of a good time reminded her of the warlock who held her captive as a slave for his own pleasures –and the pleasures of his guests- when she was only fifteen. It had taken her six years to gain the strength to slaughter him slowly in his bed. This man was no better.

Vixen examined the blade that dripped with the dead man’s guilty blood, then at the rest of the mess that stained the suede rug beneath them. She sighed and quickly grabbed her thermos before any more of the blood was wasted on the ugly furnishings. Grabbing a good fistful of Javier’s curly black hair, Vixen lifted back his head and moved the thermos beneath the wound to capture the blood that poured out. She cursed herself for not having the container ready the moment she did the fatal act so as not to have any of the precious supply go to waste. Once the canister was filled she hastily grabbed another as the blood continued to flow freely. This was taking way too long and she was already feeling drained from the night’s work but she couldn’t just take a bite or else she would leave behind DNA, so she waited without impatience.

At last the gash clotted and Vixen hurriedly stowed both thermoses in her satchel before checking the room for any evidence that would lead to the organization. When she found none she fled to the tenth story window and jumped.

*********
Dane stood idly on the sidewalk, pondering how to spend the rest of his night off. Being kicked out of a bar for breaking some college kid’s nose could really mess up a guy’s plans, and his buzz. Not that he had one anyway. He felt pretty sorry for the poor girl who had to deal with the teen’s drunken courage and pissy, sore-loser aggressiveness. He was just trying to spare her from getting groped in the restroom or worse.

At the moment he had replayed the part where his fist connected with the teenager’s face, he was shoved by a woman who seemed to be in a hurry, knocking him off guard. It took but a second for him to stabilize himself and seek out who had assaulted him so randomly. When he looked up, lightning bolts struck at his chest. She was drop-dead sexy. His eyes trailed up from her black high heel shoes, sheer black knee-high stockings topped with a pink garter wrapped around the smoothest, cinnamon-toned legs he’d ever seen, a black pea coat under which he could guess was lingerie, all leading up to a face that could rival Aphrodite herself. She had piercing green eyes framed with thick, long lashes, a full pair of rosy lips, and jet black hair cut into a short dramatic bob that swept her collar bone. He blinked a few times at the sight.

“Wow. I’m… uh, sorry,” was all she said.

“Well sorry isn’t much of a name but thanks for apologizing for knocking the breath out of me with those eyes,” he said with a smile. She eyed him warily, only slightly amused by his flirting.

“Sorry for running into you; I’m kind of late for work.”

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow, noting her current wardrobe. “Where at?” She flashed a deviant smile, exposing a row of perfect white teeth and walked past him into an alley. The woman approached a door and rapped on it twice before it opened, letting out a blue light and loud music. She turned back to him.

“You still want that name?” she yelled over the music.

“Dane,” he put a hand on his chest, bowing slightly, “Yours?” She flashed that deadly smile again.

“Vixen,” she replied, and dashed into the depths of the club. Dane walked around to the entrance and saw the bright moniker displaying the image of a woman with her head thrown back in ecstasy and the words reading Femme Mystique Bar and Lounge. Gulping down his assumptions, he stepped inside and walked through a long hall lined with glass mirrors, pink velvet, blue lighting, and women in lingerie. They each reached out seductively to touch any part of him they could as he passed by, one even moving to his side to press herself against him as she whispered hotly in his ear.

“So you here for business,” she reached down to grope his manhood, “or pleasure?” He grabbed her wrist firmly before she could even get a hold, causing her to squeak in surprise. “Curiosity,” he raised an eyebrow as he looked further down the hall to his destination. Without another look at the blonde twig, he released her wrist and continued on until he was stopped by a thick black woman wearing a purple corset that squeezed at her waist, leaving her fleshy bosom exposed to the heavy air.

“The entry fee is fifty dollars, honey,” she held out her waiting palms. Dane sighed, but reached into his wallet and pulled out three twenties.

“I’m guessing you don’t have change, so…” he offered her the bills and she took them graciously to stuff them into the tight corset.

“Go ahead, baby,” she smiled as she pulled open the rich blue velvet curtain, revealing a wide, spacious lounge with upper balconies lining the far walls opposite of the stage.