[TG] Siren of the Shadows - Part 5

Siren of the Shadows - Part 5

For EB18

By TheSpiralledEye

When I’d first taken up the mantle of the Fox, I’d known it would be dangerous. Especially once the Shrouded Spectre was on my tail. In the months since I’d started my little masquerade, I had accrued quite the nest egg; I had plenty of money in the bank and treasures hidden away for my own personal happiness. There was no need to become the Fox again. I could easily hide the mask away and have enough to live comfortably without having to work a day in my life. What I hadn't considered was the mind-numbing boredom that would come with doing that. 

I sat in my luxurious apartment each day, admiring my treasures and trying hard not to think about the thrill of the chase. The Shrouded Spectre visited my dreams, dreams where our suits mysteriously disappeared when he tackled me to the ground, and I would wake up hard as a rock. Somehow, even that was irritating. I’d stopped looking in the mirror; seeing my square jaw and straight hips felt wrong. I missed the red hair and mischievous smile. I missed the sensual sway of my hips and the slight movement of my chest. I’d roll over in the night and find myself annoyed at just how comfortably I could sleep with a flat chest; I wanted those tits back so much it almost hurt. I even missed the fights with The Shrouded Spectre; I’d catch myself wondering if he was thinking of me before shaking the thoughts away. I felt like a schoolgirl with a crush, and the realisation made me blush deeply. He was a hero; all he cared about was putting the fox behind bars, still, the idea that one of our fights might turn into something more…sensual was always on my mind. 

I tried to focus such feelings on my planned seduction of Remmington Collins, but he proved oddly elusive. I saw him at the club several times, but he was too busy at charity events to really give me much attention. Somehow, that only made me want to pursue him more, even if robbing him blind looked less and less moral. He tipped the wait staff at the club well, he even knew their names. I couldn't very well put him in the same class as Mr Sutherland and the other vapid heiress’ that frequented the country club. Even if I did, he hadn't shown up for weeks. Rumour was that he had some big project he was working on that would be revealed in the coming weeks. 

My fingers closed around the mask each night before I talked myself out of it. If I kept this life up, I was bound to make a mistake. I had to stop, but the call of the magical change was so strong. To feel powerful again, to run across the rooftops in those heels…I wanted it more than anything.

~

The Shrouded Spectre looked over the city with a frown on his face. Three weeks; three weeks without a peep from The Fox. No glint of red hair or mischievous smile, no chases across rooftops or verbal sparring matches. He swallowed and continued his patrol, passing the bank where his vault trap was almost finished being constructed. If anything would bring her out, it would be that. He felt a tingle of hope at the thought before quashing it down. He only cared about bringing her to justice, obviously. The way her smile made his skin warm had nothing to do with it. He was the good guy, and she was a criminal. He couldn’t let his emotions rule his head. He slipped into the police chief’s office without making a sound and held back a smile as the man nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned and saw he wasn't alone.

“I wish you wouldn't do that.” The man groaned, “my heart can’t take it.”

He ignored the words and got right to business. 

“The vault will be finished soon, The Fox won’t be a problem much longer.”

“I don't think she’s a problem at all anymore,” the chief said with a satisfied smile. “There has been not a single sign of her these last few weeks. Maybe she robbed the wrong person.”

The idea made his gut twist uncomfortably, and he dismissed it on principle. 

“The Fox is too clever to be taken out like that. Besides, we would have heard about it by now. No, she’s still out there; she must be planning something big,” he said confidently. “We should announce The Vault to the press and get her attention before she pulls a different big heist.”

“If you’re sure it’s still necessary.” The chief shrugged. “We’ve got all sorts of expensive items lined up from jewellery to statues, That Remmington Collin’s fellow even gave up his Rembrandt! There are things even she couldn’t pilfer.”

“Don’t underestimate her.” The Spectre warned, that had been his mistake. 

His brow furrowed as he looked over the listed items already signed up for storage in the vault, tens of millions of dollars of baubles to whet The Fox’s appetite. Still, there was something missing. His mind went back to the fight he’d had with her at the antique shop, the look of genuine horror on her face when that vase almost fell. She’d risked getting caught to save it. Clearly, The Fox was more complex than just a simple jewel thief. No, she had a genuine love for historical artefacts, that would explain her odd habit of stealing things of little monetary worth. Maybe she even saw herself as the hero in her story, taking old treasures away from the rich who didn’t see their worth just because they didn’t come with hefty price tags. Then compensated herself with the items that did. 

“Add a few items of historical value in there,” he said simply, handing the list back to the chief. Some historical coins, old tools, stuff like that.”

“What? Why on Earth-”

“Just do it. Trust me.”

“Fine. There is a fellow I know who runs a place that does everything from beads to historic diamonds…I believe it’s called Eloquence and Antiquities. Maybe he can donate a few things.”

The Spectre just nodded and waited for the man’s eyes to dart away before disappearing out the window. 

“Wh-ugh…one day I am going to nail his feet to the fucking floor, I swear.”

The Spectre bit back a chuckle and disappeared into the night. One more look around the city for The Fox couldn’t hurt. 

~

It felt wrong being back at Eloquence and Antiquities during the day. After my two nighttime visits, it felt wrong to be able to walk through the display rooms without having to watch for cameras or trip wires. Mr. Sutherland had finally gotten around to organising my severance package, it only took him months. I could only imagine how desperate I would have become without the mask. Not that somebody as rich and selfish as my former boss would know. The email he’d sent telling me to come and sign the final paperwork made it sound like he was doing me some massive favour, not, you know, his due diligence as a boss. 

Still, I couldn’t help but smirk as Mr Sutherland walked in and scanned over me, clearly mistaking me for a customer in my fine suit. His double take actually made me snort with laughter. 

“Joshua, I didn’t see you there…you seem to be doing well for yourself.” He said coolly, “Come into my office and sign your final cheque.”

“With pleasure.”

I felt oddly at home sitting in the plush chair as I signed over the paperwork as slowly as possible. All the while enjoying the way Mr. Sutherland tapped his finger impatiently. 

“I’m sorry,” I said without a hint of sincerity. “Are you expecting somebody else?”

“Yes, in fact.” He said through his teeth.

He looked like he was about to say more when one of the security workers stuck his head into the office.

“Mr. Sutherland, sir. The delivery is here.”

“Finish up,” he said sharply. “And do not move anything or touch my papers.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I smiled pleasantly before immediately reaching out to press my fingers to the pile of papers as soon as Mr. Sutherland disappeared. 

It was a joke to myself more than anything. I didn't actually intend to read anything, but a document caught my eye—a proposal for a vault in the city bank to house all the most valuable items of the city's elite somewhere safe…from The Fox. The idea that I had inspired such fear in those money-grubbing leeches tickled me a bit, I had to say. 

“This is it, it belonged to who exactly?”

I turned, my ears pricking to Mr Sutherland's voice on the other side of the cracked door. 

“Catherine Parr, the final wife of Henry VIII.” A voice replied. “Custom made for her.”

“Clearly, her taste was… eclectic.” 

“Age has done that, sir, it’s still a beautiful piece…”

“If you say so…how much would the gems be worth on their own? Without all this tarnished metal around them?”

“Well…” The voice sounded uncomfortable.

“You can go now…I need to call my jeweller.” 

The happiness I’d gained knowing I had the elite running scared was gone instantly. I knew that tone, was he seriously going to destroy a historical necklace just because it wasn't pretty anymore? For the sake of profit? He walked back in and I saw the case in his hands, the necklace was tarnished to be sure, rust had eaten away at the edges, and the gems needed a good polish, but it was still an artefact.

“What are you still doing here? Get out, I have business to attend to.”

I bit my tongue and walked out in time to hear him already on the phone with a jeweller to get the gems removed. It made my blood boil. As I walked out, I passed the new security station; evidently, my two break-ins had gotten to him because a man was busy installing more measures. While he wasn't looking, I grabbed a keycard for myself; it looked like The Fox would be making her grand return, after all. 

~

The Shrouded Spectre sat atop the gargoyles that rimmed the museum and brooded. It was another quiet night, something he used to be glad for. The life of a caped crime fighter was exhausting, especially when he had a day identity to keep. He swung off the gargoyle and continued his usual patrol before deviating on a whim toward Eloquence and Antiquities; it was the only place The Fox had hit twice so far. Clearly, she had a connection to it, he just needed to find out what. He’d gone through personnel and client files looking for a woman who matched her description but found nothing, or at least nothing that would give anybody a reason to rob the place twice. Still, it couldn’t hurt to check it out each night, after all, third time’s the charm. 

“Alright, lady, give ‘em up.”

“No, please. These earrings were my mother's; they’re all I have left of her.”

“Sure, I don’t care, pop ‘em out, or I’ll rip ‘em out.”

The Spectre frowned; another night, another petty thief. He grappled toward the voices when suddenly, the robber’s gruff voice cried out, and there was a heavy sound. The Spectre landed on the rooftop and looked down into the alley, and his heart lept into his throat; The Fox! She was standing on the would-be robber’s back, grinding a heel into his spine with a look of disgust on her masked face. Curious, he watched as she reached down and took the earrings from the robber’s hand and handed them back to the trembling woman. 

“Y-you’re that burglar everybody talks about.” The woman gasped.

“Yes, but I have standards.” The Fox smiled warmly, “Go, take your earrings and get out of here, this guy will be waking up with a hell of a headache soon enough.”

“T-thank you!”

The Fox watched her go and then started making her way to the window of a nearby building; Eloquence and Antiquities! He’d been right, she was back, perhaps to finish the job he’d interrupted last time. For a moment, he watched the fleeing woman, spying the shining diamonds between her fingers; The Fox had stolen things just like them in the past. Why not now? The sound of the window opening snapped his attention back to the burglar in question, and he watched her slip inside.

“Not this time,” he muttered and followed suit. 

Silent as the grave, he crept inside, passing cabinets of jewellery and other finery that the Fox had seemingly ignored. The security had been turned off at the station and the man at the desk was snoring away; God, it was a wonder this place made money at all. A quiet whisper drew him into the owner's office;

“There you are, don’t worry, treasure, I won't let him rip you apart…”

The Spectre stepped inside and saw The Fox holding up an old, dirty-looking necklace and looking at it with wonder as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“Bit of late-night shopping?” He asked, making the Fox jump.

“You.” She whispered, “Dammit.”

“Not your usual fare.” The Spectre said, pointing at the necklace. “But that doesn't change the fact that you’re committing a crime.”

“What Sutherland will do to this treasure is a crime.” She spat back. “All he cares about is money, he’s going to destroy it so he can sell the gems separately!”

“I agree, that is a shame, but…it is his. You cannot simply take it.”

“I can.” She said, jutting out her chin. “And I will.”

With that, she was flying toward him, long leg extended in a powerful kick, which he caught. She had time to gasp before he twisted it, sending her spinning to the ground where he pinned her. 

“I studied your fighting style.” He grinned, “You won’t be getting one up on me this time, Fox.”

“Aw, you’ve been thinking about me, how lovely.” She replied huskily, rolling her body so that she pressed hard against his crotch. The touch sensation took him by surprise and she took the opportunity to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Not so fast!” He wasn't falling for that again. He grabbed her, pinning her hands either side of her head and straddling her waist while she tried and failed to get free.

“Dammit! Come on!” She groaned before changing tactics and pouting seductively. “You wouldn’t want to hurt a lady? Would you?”

“I saw you in the alleyway, Fox.” Spectre said, trying to ignore the pleasurable tingle that went up his spine when the fox spoke like that. “You’re not a bad person, I can tell. So why, why break the law?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” she hissed. “Playing by the rules got me nothing and greedy men like Sutherland everything! I’m just teaching him a lesson by taking the only things he and people like him care about. All while making sure history gets preserved!”

“So you do think of yourself as a hero.” He mused, and The Fox just laughed. 

“I’m no hero. I’m doing this for myself as much as for history. Don’t go thinking I’m some innocent you can sweep off your feet.” 

“I think I already did that, innocent or not.” He teased, pink-dusted her cheeks, and crept out near the edge of her mask. 

“You could do so much more.” He continued, suddenly desperate not to send this incredible woman to jail. “With your skills, you could help me. Defend this city from the shadows at my side.”

“You really are cheesy.” She said softly, leaning up as he found himself leaning down so their lips brushed. “But I think I like it.”

Finally, their lips pressed together in a kiss, and a week's worth of sexual tension seemed to release all at once. The Spectre couldn’t help but groan; he’d been holding himself back so much, even he hadn't realised it. Kissing The Fox felt so right, yet so taboo at the same time. She was his enemy, but her lips tasted delicious, and her tongue ran along his lower lips, asking for entry, which he immediately granted. 

His hands came to wrap around her body, and hers returned the favour, he wasn't pinning her anymore but she stayed, rolling her hips against his own desperately. He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t, his body yearned to peel away that mask and the rest of her clothes to finally ravish the woman who had occupied so much of his thoughts. His fingers brushed the base of the mask, ready to slip beneath it, when suddenly, she was gone. She had slipped through his fingers again and all at once was up against the office window, chest heaving and her lips wet and swollen from their kissing.

“Sorry, Spectre.” She said, and strangely enough, he believed her. “But this is too dangerous, even for me.”

“Wait-! I know you can redeem yourself!” He cried, getting to his feet to stop her as she opened up an escape route.

“I promise, Spectre.” She whispered, red hair whipping in the wind. “No more greed, I’ll only take the things that deserve to be taken.”

And with that, she was gone, sliding down the building on those sharp claws and landing in the alley. He could probably have caught her if he tried, but he didn’t. There didn't seem to be a point. He glanced back over his shoulder; the necklace was still sitting on the desk, and he pondered what she’d told him about its owner not deserving it. He reached out but stopped an inch from the tarnished metal; he couldn’t cross that line, even if right now he desperately wanted to. 

~

I was out of breath by the time I got home. I could feel my heart thundering under my chest so hard it made my breasts move slightly with each beat. My skin felt hot and there was a now familiar warmth coiling between my legs. I’d never been so turned on before in my life; the mixture of danger, that low baritone and our natural chemistry was…intoxicating. What's more, I believe him when he said I could redeem myself. There was something in his tone. Maybe I was being naive but I couldn’t help but feel he truly cared about me. I looked around at the home my nighttime escapades had bought me; it was enough. I didn't need more riches, but I simply couldn't stand by and let those rich people keep the ancient treasures and pieces of history when they didn’t appreciate it.

“Just for them.” I whispered, promising to myself. “I’ll only don the mask again when I need it. I’ll do the things Spectre can’t maybe…maybe we could be friends then.” Maybe we could be more than friends. The idea brought a genuine smile to my face and I sat myself down on the couch, ready to rest after the mad dash home. As I flicked through the channels, the news caught my eye; it was a puff piece on that vault, the one I’d seen documents for on Mr. Sutherland’s desk. 

“The city's elite, scared by the latest thief known only as The Fox, have come together to ensure no more precious antiques can be stolen.” The reporter said, smiling at the camera. “Funded in part but Remmington Collin’s, he, along with the rest of the city elite will be able to rest easy knowing their family jewels are safe from The Fox.”

Huh, so that was Remmington’s big project, a giant vault to hide all of his stuff from me. Maybe I should rob him after all. The camera panned over the various goods set to be locked away and I snorted; even now they couldn't help showing off. If you were wanting to keep your things safe, why show them off? It was suspicious actually, but that thought fled my mind when I saw something sitting there. A Rembrandt painting, an actual, authentic piece of art was going to be locked away in a dusty old vault where nobody could see it? 

“Fucking idiots, so scared they will lock everything beautiful up.” I sneered, one hand going to the mask still on my face. “Well…I could use a challenge.”