Read Online Blind Hearts and Silenced Passion by Anya Byrne - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anya Byrne
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flailed wildly, his instincts of self-preservation
taking precedence over all else. He clawed at his captor's face and chest, and
the clothes the stranger was wearing tore under the sharp tips of what had been
his fingernails. The man seemed surprised by the resistance Remy put up,
because he faltered and fell back.
Remy seized his advantage and got up once more. He was
nearly out of the docks when another person tackled him. This time, he didn't
manage to escape. The woman on top of him immobilized him with brisk
efficiency. Florent's voice took out all the remaining fight out of Remy.
"Good work, Blanchefleur. I want you to find out how exactly this little
worm got in here—once you take care of him of course."
"What did he do?"
"Spied on us and displayed his eyes, claws and fangs
in front of the humans."
The silencer woman didn't react to the words. She pulled
off his mask, perhaps intending to interrogate him. The sight of his face
seemed to give her pause. "Ah."
Another man appeared by her side, staring at him.
"Hmm. He's just a pup."
Florent didn't seem impressed by the other silencer's
assessment. "He's a spy, and you'll do what you're told."
The woman approached Florent and pulled him aside. Remy
now noticed that a sizable crowd had gathered, watching with interest. He
hadn't even realized there were so many silencers here. Moon be blessed, what
had he been thinking?
Finally, the woman returned to his side and grabbed his
arm. No one spoke, and Florent had already turned on his heel and stalked away
in a huff.
The woman and her earlier companion took him into another
empty warehouse. He passed her a weapon—had he had it before? Remy couldn't
tell—and she took it in a way that suggested she'd done it many times in the
past.
As the man went to keep watch, she pointed the gun at him.
"Look at me."
Remy complied, grateful that he'd at least die with
dignity. He had the idle thought that he could still feel the remnants of material
on his claws, before his world turned into fire and darkness.
****
It had been the last thing Remy had seen for a long
time—Blanchefleur's face as she readied herself to deliver his punishment. He'd
tried so hard not to think of it, but perhaps in his heart, he'd known it might
come to this.
Steeling himself, Remy left the couch and headed back into
his bedroom. He carefully avoided looking at the bed and instead focused on the
painting on the wall.
It was an image of a howling wolf, its figure looking blurry
and surreal in the moonlight. The artist wasn't anyone Remy was familiar with,
but he'd always liked the painting, if only because it had been a gift from
Laurent.
He set the painting down, revealing the safe built into the
wall. The combination came easily to him, even if he hadn't opened it in a long
time. After all, how could he ever forget it? The numbers spelled out the date
when he'd lost his eyesight.
He was proud when his fingers didn't shake as he opened the
safe. He was even prouder than he didn't jump or yelp when Blanchefleur's voice
sounded right behind him. "What exactly are you looking for?"
"This." He wordlessly handed her the item, the once
piece of solid evidence he'd kept since that day.
It wasn't much, just a patch of leather that had covered the
strange silencer's chest, with something else hidden inside. Remy didn't know
why he'd originally kept it. He could barely remember those first few days,
when he'd gone through the five stages of mourning even if no one had actually died.
Later, though, he'd traced the odd item he had found countless times with his
fingers, trying to figure out what the symbol on the back of it meant.
The seal was strange, small and circular in size, but made
out of some sort of metal. The lines on it were a jumble—not a letter, not a
number or a figure. It almost reminded Remy of one of those mazes with
countless corridors that only ever led to dead ends. It seemed rusty at times,
but Remy had tried to clean it once
taking precedence over all else. He clawed at his captor's face and chest, and
the clothes the stranger was wearing tore under the sharp tips of what had been
his fingernails. The man seemed surprised by the resistance Remy put up,
because he faltered and fell back.
Remy seized his advantage and got up once more. He was
nearly out of the docks when another person tackled him. This time, he didn't
manage to escape. The woman on top of him immobilized him with brisk
efficiency. Florent's voice took out all the remaining fight out of Remy.
"Good work, Blanchefleur. I want you to find out how exactly this little
worm got in here—once you take care of him of course."
"What did he do?"
"Spied on us and displayed his eyes, claws and fangs
in front of the humans."
The silencer woman didn't react to the words. She pulled
off his mask, perhaps intending to interrogate him. The sight of his face
seemed to give her pause. "Ah."
Another man appeared by her side, staring at him.
"Hmm. He's just a pup."
Florent didn't seem impressed by the other silencer's
assessment. "He's a spy, and you'll do what you're told."
The woman approached Florent and pulled him aside. Remy
now noticed that a sizable crowd had gathered, watching with interest. He
hadn't even realized there were so many silencers here. Moon be blessed, what
had he been thinking?
Finally, the woman returned to his side and grabbed his
arm. No one spoke, and Florent had already turned on his heel and stalked away
in a huff.
The woman and her earlier companion took him into another
empty warehouse. He passed her a weapon—had he had it before? Remy couldn't
tell—and she took it in a way that suggested she'd done it many times in the
past.
As the man went to keep watch, she pointed the gun at him.
"Look at me."
Remy complied, grateful that he'd at least die with
dignity. He had the idle thought that he could still feel the remnants of material
on his claws, before his world turned into fire and darkness.
****
It had been the last thing Remy had seen for a long
time—Blanchefleur's face as she readied herself to deliver his punishment. He'd
tried so hard not to think of it, but perhaps in his heart, he'd known it might
come to this.
Steeling himself, Remy left the couch and headed back into
his bedroom. He carefully avoided looking at the bed and instead focused on the
painting on the wall.
It was an image of a howling wolf, its figure looking blurry
and surreal in the moonlight. The artist wasn't anyone Remy was familiar with,
but he'd always liked the painting, if only because it had been a gift from
Laurent.
He set the painting down, revealing the safe built into the
wall. The combination came easily to him, even if he hadn't opened it in a long
time. After all, how could he ever forget it? The numbers spelled out the date
when he'd lost his eyesight.
He was proud when his fingers didn't shake as he opened the
safe. He was even prouder than he didn't jump or yelp when Blanchefleur's voice
sounded right behind him. "What exactly are you looking for?"
"This." He wordlessly handed her the item, the once
piece of solid evidence he'd kept since that day.
It wasn't much, just a patch of leather that had covered the
strange silencer's chest, with something else hidden inside. Remy didn't know
why he'd originally kept it. He could barely remember those first few days,
when he'd gone through the five stages of mourning even if no one had actually died.
Later, though, he'd traced the odd item he had found countless times with his
fingers, trying to figure out what the symbol on the back of it meant.
The seal was strange, small and circular in size, but made
out of some sort of metal. The lines on it were a jumble—not a letter, not a
number or a figure. It almost reminded Remy of one of those mazes with
countless corridors that only ever led to dead ends. It seemed rusty at times,
but Remy had tried to clean it once
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