"Watch where you're goin, would ya!" The man yelled to me. From what I could hear from his voice, and the softness of his belly, I would say that he's the man I was looking for. I was on the ground, hands and knees flat against the molten pavement. I had just ran into Bob White, a very successful lawyer. He was standing above me when I stood up.

"I am so sorry sir." I told him. "I, I uh, didn't see you." He turned around to see my cane and dark glasses. I heard him intake a surprised breath.

"It's, fine. It's fine. Be on your way now." I walked on. He started to whisper to his bodyguards around him.

"Damn blind woman!" He ranted. "Spilled coffee all over my new shirt!" I let loose a small smirk as I made my way to my destination. The New York Bulletin. I had a story to share, and I was gonna make sure it got out there.

I was only a few blocks away when I was attacked. It was nine o'clock at night and not many people were on the streets. There were four of them. Each one had flowing robes and sharp blades. They were part of the Yakuza.

I heard them coming. But I could only barely hear their heart beats. I was in an alley way when they dropped from the roofs and on top of me. I could only fend them off for so long though. I was trained. But not this trained.

The tall one, he was the calmest. He got in the most hits. He hit and dodged like nothing I had ever seen before. The other three were good too, don't get me wrong. The other three got in their fair share of hits.

I was covered in blood by the time I knocked out one of them. I was able to send him, not her, into the wall just before I was sent into a nearby dumpster. And let me tell you how much that hurt. My head hit it first, so as the rest of me followed, I couldn't hear anything but the crunch of my head and the ringing in my ears. I slumped to the ground and the three remaining ninjas wailed on me.

I thought I was going to die right there and then when everything stopped. There were no more fists, no more knives, no more boots. But there was one thing. There was another heartbeat. It was steady and calm. Calmer than the three Yakuza bastards he was beating the hell out of.

I got up. Slowly, steadily. I reached out my senses, but it didn't go any farther than that one heartbeat. The one that saved me from the Yakuza. I could hear him fight the others. And quickly the three turned to two, then to one, then none. I heard his ragged breath. I could smell their blood, his blood, my blood. The amount of iron in the air was grotesque. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"You're bleeding." I said without thinking. Damn. The cut was between his spine and his side. There was no way I could see it. I got up, using the dumpster as support. My ears were still ringing a tad from the run in with it.

"How did you know?" He asked. His heart skipped a beat. Only one. Then it was calm again.

"I, I guessed. The others were bleeding, and, and I guessed you would be too." This wasn't good. I didn't know who this man was, and I couldn't have his heartbeat fucking up my work. I picked up my glasses, my folder and my cane quickly and ran, ran from the scene.

I wasn't out of the alleyway when a hand made a grab for me. I dodged instinctively. Mistake. A big mistake. Because another and another hand, made grabs and punches. Soon, his heart beat and mine were racing in the sparing match in the mouth of the alley way.

It only stopped when I landed one good hit on his face. I knocked him off balance and took off running. If I ran to the Bulletin, I could be bringing some wackjob right into their lobby, and I couldn't have that. So I ran past the entrance. I would have to bring them the folder another time.