The Midnight Foxxx

VIXEN

“Shit,” I curse to myself. There’s not enough money here. The watch and ring I snagged off of him looked expensive but I’m not an appraiser. They could be cheap knock offs for all I know. The smart phone looks to be a newer model at least. Once it’s wiped clean it could be sold for a decent amount. I hope anyway. Nothing to be done about it now, it’ll have to do.

The cash, jewelry, and phone are tucked into a pocket of my cargo pants before standing up. I do a quick once over to make sure I have everything, then glance over the ledge of the roof I’m standing on. The body is right were I left it, blood pooling under it, staining the asphalt. Taking a quick sniff of the air confirms the only scent detectable is the dead wolf and that the concealment charm is still working. I take a deep breath before taking off at a quick jog. As I approach the upcoming ledge, I concentrate on the next roof over. In a blink I’m right were I had been focusing, successfully teleporting across the gap. Finding my rhythm, I continue on like that for several blocks before I stop at the sound of police sirens in the distance. The shrill sound slowly getting louder. Flashing blue light reflect and bounce off windows, dancing down the street below, slowly closing in on my location. Adrenalin floods my veins, panic prickling under my skin. I take off again with more speed, expending more magic to increase the teleporting distance, jumping two or three roofs at a time.

After about two miles a headache starts to form in my temples. Every consecutive teleport causing a painful throb, each more painful than the last. The sirens stopped a few minutes ago and the street below is quiet. Though not anywhere close to being winded, the extended use of magic was draining and taxing to the body. I crouch down, resting elbows on my knees, and holding my head in my hands.

This is the furthest I’ve ever had to go for a target so far. Took most of the night to hunt him down, then even longer trailing him until there was a suitable location to strike. His movements had been erratic, back tracking, going in circles. I suspect he knew someone was following him, though in the end, unfortunately for him, it didn’t matter. The outcome was the same. But now I’m miles away from home, even after the two miles I’ve already put in.

I groan and rub my temples. A hot shower and sleep sounds heavenly right now, but complaining won’t get me back any faster. With a grunt I stand up and peer down at the street below. It’s vacant of pedestrians and cars, echos of distant honking and yelling the only thing occupying the space. Taking a deep breath I port down the sidewalk and hiss at the throb that strikes across my skull like a thunder clap, sharp and violent. Nausea coils in my stomach.

“Fuck,” I whine to myself and glance up and down the street, assuring there are no prying eyes, and start the long trek back.

Bright neon lights spelling ‘Midnight Foxxx’ blink in the late evening darkness. Contrasting colors assault my eyes as I weave through the sea of bodies gathered in front of the night club. I keep my head down, not wanting to attract any attention as I make my way around to the back of the building. Brax it standing guard at the back door, tall and menacing as usual. His hard features soften when his eyes land on me. Amber eyes burn into my own, pinning me in place. Brax looks me over, assessing. Seemingly satisfied I’m not injured and, relatively speaking, okay, he releases his gaze. Walking past him I pointedly keep my eyes down, avoiding further eye contact. I bring my hand up to the scanner that’s nestled to the right of the door. It beeps, loud and shrill after holding my thumb too it. The door unlocks with a loud click.

Music thrums through the whole building, the deep bass reverberating through the walls. My head throbs at every beat and I internally curse whoever is DJing tonight. The back hallway is dimly lit, most of the available light coming from under the office door at the end of the hall. I take a deep breath and make my way towards the office. My hand shakes as I knock, heartbeat thundering away in my ears so loudly I almost miss the muffled ‘come in.’ Willing my hands to settle, I enter and approach the desk with as much confidence as I can muster.

“Ah, your back, how did my favorite pup make out this time?” Silas’ smile makes my skin crawl.

“Here,” I mutter, dropping the cash and valuables on the dark mahogany desk. Silas’ smile falls, looking at me unimpressed before counting the money and appraises the watch, ring, and smart phone dumped in front of him. Sweat begins to form along my brow waiting for his judgement.

“This will do. It should cover the money that mutt owed,” Silas finally determines. I internally sigh in relief.

“I trust the proper measures were taken so nothing is traced back to you?” His eyes are sharp, deadly.

“Yes sir,” I answer flatly and force myself to meet his gaze. The second our eyes lock, cold fingers latch onto my mind, forcing their way inside. I can feel him flipping through thoughts and memories of this past evening, invading my non-existent privacy. An uncomfortable shutter travels down my body but I keep my mind calm, letting him peruse as he wishes. Once satisfied, the icy fingers release their grip, and his attention returns to whatever he was working on before I interrupted him.

“That’ll be all for tonight. You can have the rest of the evening off.” I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Thank you, sir,” I turn on my heel and leave before he can change his mind. In my haste I fail to notice the large body standing just outside the door, promptly running face first into a broad chest.

“Dammit, Brax,” I huff, pushing him back to a more suitable distance, “Don’t you have a fucking door to guard or something.” He just chuckles at me.

“How’d it go?” he asks as he starts walking toward the back stairwell.

“Fine,” I reply flatly, following behind him without needing to be told. The stairs are dimly light, like everything else in this building, and creak and groan under our weight. We pass one of the many club dancers, dressed in a scantily clad stage costume, coming down the opposite side of the stairs. Her thin lips quirk into a mean smile before purposefully bumping her shoulder into mine, making me stumble. A growl rises up in my throat as I glare down at her. Anger simmers under my skin, ready to boil over into rage. The confidence she had drains from her face as I pull my fist back, fangs on full display in a snarl. Every muscle in my arm is pulled tight, ready to release a searing punch. Before I can throw the hit a cold hand wraps firmly around my wrist.

“You were just given the night off, do you really want to jeopardize that over something so petty?” Brax asks calmly. I force myself to look away from the bitchy fox shifter to look at Brax. There’s no anger in his eyes, if anything they’re pleading, begging me to drop it. Begrudgingly, I let my fist fall to my side, shaking with unchecked emotion. The fox dancer’s face pulls into a scowl before continuing down the stairs, long hair whipping behind her.

“Fucking bitch would be given the night off, fucking whore’s the favorite,” she mutters under her breath. A snarl rips out of me and before I can lunge to rip her throat out, I’m being thrown over a shoulder like a rag doll and hauled upstairs.

“Put me the fuck down,” my fists pounding into his broad back do nothing to the brick wall of a man. Brax only grunts in mild annoyance. When we reach my bedroom on the second floor, he abruptly stops just outside the door.

“Your emotions are getting the better of you. You only lose control like that when you’ve overused your magic.” Dammit, I curse to myself.

“I didn’t,” I lie.

“Blood is pulsing in your temples,” he sighs, “Magic exertion causes blood pressure to spike. I’m a vampire Vix, I can hear it and smell it.” I don’t bother saying anything more, knowing I can’t hide anything from him.

He sets me down finally and captures my gaze. I drown in pools of golden amber. “Over exertion can kill you,” his expression softens, “you know that.”

“I know,” I say softly, looking away, “I panicked.” A large hand is placed on my shoulder and squeezes.

“Get some sleep, you need it,” a rare smile pulls at his lips. I put my hand on his and squeeze back.

“Does this ever get easier?” The whispered question is barely audible, and the silence that sits between us is all the answer I need.