Chapter 25: The Calling of the Night
The bright afternoon sunlight reflected over the heart of Gotham. Bruce, dressed in a sharply pressed charcoal Armani suit, seated comfortably in the back seat of the Rolls Royce. His youthful skin vibrant and his hazel eyes well rested as he gazed downward at the front page of the Gotham Times and the image of Batman soaring above the metropolis.
He got a glimpse of an ambulance racing down the traffic lanes of the main crossing. Sirens wailed and red lights flashed; he turned down his eyes and let go of a deep frustrated breath.
Alfred stared at him through the rear-view mirror as the car halted at a crimson light. The Englishman, touched down and took hold of a folded paper, giving it to the young billionaire
"Batman may have made the front page, but Bruce Wayne got pushed to page eight..."
Bruce reached out a hand and took the copy of the Gotham Times morning edition. As Alfred had said, a small column about the burned down Wayne Mansion, headline: DRUNKEN BILLIONAIRE BURNS DOWN HOUSE.
His brow creased as he mumbled the words under his breath that the fabulous and determined young reporter - Vicki Vale - wrote after he allowed her to interview him at the guest house yesterday morning. Alfred had berated him afterwards about pursuing her but Bruce already had enough on his mind - more specifically: two women. The elusive lethal jewel thief and the enchanting Russian beauty, Irena.
Bruce leaned his head back against the leather as his thoughts created an image of Irena standing on a balcony terrace. He closed his eyelids, blocking out the noise of traffic and the blinding sunlight beaming onto his cut-stone features. He allowed himself to become still and drift further into the blissful vision.
The evening sky was painted with the colors of red and burnt orange. She was waitressing in the gentle breeze, perfect and angelic with dark hair dancing in the current of air. Her beautiful figure covered in a low-cut velvet dress that let on the flawless skin of her dresser and her dark brown eyes dazzled as she looked at him with a sweet smile of acceptance.. She extended her hand for him to take...
Bruce fluttered his eyes open as he heard Alfred's Cockney accent beckoning him back to the reality.
"What do you think of that, sir?" Alfred asked.
"There's a small silver lining somewhere in all that." Bruce replied.
"Ah..." Alfred voiced with a knowing look and a small twinkle in his eye. "You mean good PR for your public persona. The billionaire playboy buffoon too self-centered and eccentric to put on a cape and cowl at night to avenge the innocents of Gotham while he's busy falling into a drunken ruin?"
Bruce nodded with a humorless smile gracing his features. "That would be it."
Alfred shrugged his shoulder. "Pity that earning weight to your false lifestyle came at the expense of your ancestral home."
"It's a good thing we believe in insurance." Bruce provided. Before their banter could continue further, the phone inside of his car rang. Bruce looked at the caller ID knowingly where it said "Wayne Enterprises" and promptly answered.
"Bruce Wayne." He answered non-nonchalantly.
"What makes you think you get to decide who is running Wayne Enterprises?" Came the mildly annoyed and pretentious voice of William Earle.
"The fact that I am the owner."
"What are you talking about? The company went public a week ago!" Earle rebutted.
"And I bought most of the shares. Through various charitable foundations and trusts. Looks it's all a bit technical, but the important thing is: my company's future is secure." Bruce smiled to himself, knowing Earle would love that one, yet still wishing he could see his face right now. "Isn't that right, Mr. Fox?"
"Right you are, Mr. Wayne." Came the new CEO of the company's response. Bruce leaned moved to disconnect the call. "Didn't you get the memo?" He heard Fox continue to who he knew to be a very ticked off and humiliated William Earle. He listened to Alfred's soft chuckle in the driver's seat, then ended the call.
"Your father would have done the same thing, sir." Alfred continued, smiling brightly. It was infectious enough for a small grin to come out on Bruce's face. However lighthearted Alfred's comment was, he felt no shortage of pride in the thought his father would indeed be proud that he not only took back the family company, but he secured its future and prosperity.
"So, where to now?" Came Alfred's patient inquiry.
Bruce sat still in his seat, watching the passing scenery outside Midtown Gotham. Passing men and business women moved through the streets - some with families and friends. His eyes lingered on a wealthy, dark haired couple having lunch outside a cafe. Both looked carefree and relaxed as they held each others hands and leaned in for a passionate kiss. He lowered his eyes as his thoughts were filled with flawless alabaster skin, chocolate brown eyes and red lips. He breathed inwardly and released a heavy sigh.
"Let's head back to the Manor. It might not be standing anymore, but there's a bunch we have to salvage from it... And to hide away."
"Right away, sir."
Bruce rested his chin against his fist at the window, watching absently as life in Gotham began to slowly but surely move on from its recent calamity with the hope of a silent guardian watching over it.
As the fading sky became a canvas of blood orange and dark silhouettes of clouds, the sun was going down o'er the skyline as the amber shaft of light streaked over the formations of lush rolling hills in the back valleys beyond the Wayne family estate.
Smoking timbers of the wooden structures seeped into the ashy ground of the building site, Alfred Pennyworth stood in his long coat sipping a thermos of tea as his wintry blue eyes oversaw the crews wearing hard hats throwing the piled charred boards into bins. He turned his gaze and stared at his young charge searching through the rumble for anything photographs of the late Thomas and Martha Wayne.
His blue eyes glittered as he discovered a beautiful new woman, Irena Dubrovna step over the ruins of a kitchen doorway, her slim, lithe shape covered in a black trench coat and long legs in heeled boots that reached to her thighs. Auburn hair, long and parted to one side and pale features shiny in the caress of the melting streams of twilight.
"Did I brew the right tea?" he grumbled, sensing a warm smirk grace across his wrinkled lips.
Irena was absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking as she delicately walked over the charred parts of wood, stone and maintained an elegant balance of her ground. She patched up her dark eyes on Bruce watching his smooth chiseled jaw set down hard as his hand delved into the brownstone and broken bits of furniture. He fastened his lips into a loaded line, attempting to block images of Rachel from his head, and then he raised up a half-singed photograph of his parents.
He was incredibly close to her, his lips urging to mold warmth over her soft mouth again, but Rachel stopped him when her hand rested on his face."This is your mask." Rachel said in a gentle whisper, brushing her fingers over his jaw."Your real face is that one that scares Gotham's criminals... The man I loved. I guess he didn't come back after all." She paused, staring into the pain in his dark hazel orbs and then she gave him a half-smile. "But maybe he's still out... Maybe one day when Gotham no longer needs Batman..." She searched inside his enduring and soulful eyes, looking at the soul of her childhood friend and then she added,... I'll see him again."
Bruce paused to straighten up tall, still clutching the photograph, and then responded to a strangely familiar and strange presence behind him-he inwardly counted to three and slowly turned, inhaling a soothing scent of lavender and feeling the warmth enter into his torso. He looked at her for a second, just staring at the Russian angel and allowing himself to toast in the view of this beautiful creature standing only inches apart from him
He made a hard stare as she twisted a corner of a red lips into a falsely affectionate smirk, and then she threw her eyes downward at the ruins of Wayne Manor.
"You must have partied all night long, Mr. Wayne." She said with a creamy Russian accent, holding his intense stare.
She drifted her brown eyes over him, his sculpted body dressed in a navy blue sweater, pressed champagne colored trousers and his short curls of chocolate groomed off his forehead with two tendrils dangling over his forehead.
Irena noted wistfully, on how unbelievably sexy and handsome he looked at that instant when she let the quiet breathe between them continued. She stepped forward, closing the space between them. For a two more moments. "You don't look surprised to see me, Mr. Wayne. Why is that?"
Bruce had become a prisoner of her gaze, sweat started to roam down his jaw as he cleared his throat, and then stared down at her with intense, solemn hazel eyes..
"I had a feeling you'd read up again." He threw a gaze to the grumble of his family's house as he issued a sharp exhale, "I only wish it was a more beautiful setting."
"I don't mind," she said, doing her best to remind aloof. "Where are you staying? A guest house?"
He nodded and as he looked downwards at the picture of his parents, he felt the tension build in his veins.
"You're staying in Gotham longer, Irena?" He said with a gentle smile twitching over his lips.
She folded her arms and nodded simply, with a flamboyant voice, "Only if you want me to, Mr. Wayne."
"I do," he said simply. He placed his large hands over her upper arms.
"I have to warn you, Mr. Wayne I'm a girl with costly expectations," she whispered hotly against his jaw.
"Nothing I can't handle," he said, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm a man with high expectations as well."
"Well, and in that case I guess I'll stick around," she pitched him a large, beautiful smile.
She pushed her body in his arms were round her, he was holding her like an anchor. She felt release, the surging waves of passion that gave her immobilized.
The tomb of her mother and caged bars became blurred in her head and drowned in gray oceans of nothingness.
He brushed the strands out of her eyes with a stroke of his palm, and then he bent her mind back across his forearm and hotly pressed his mouth to hers, gently at first, and then with desperation and intensity she clung to him with a starving watery mouth of a woman, who had nothing permanent to salvage in her bleak and blank universe.
His soft mouth was parting her shaky lips, sending feral jolts along her nerves, evoking her with feelings of want and acceptance that she never experience with a man. And she felt his hand hold over her hips, Selina knew she was kissing him back, intensifying into a savory interlock-her fake Russian identity gave her freedom to comprehend him as her treasure.
Bruce pulled away as the darkness started to spread over the soil under his feet. He brushed his softly over her ravishing mouth and then he whispered as he pushed her head backward against his broad shoulder and she took in a drizzly glimpse of the gold patches and soft green imbedded in his blazing eyes, "Tomorrow sound good?"
Irena appeared at the wispy moonlight shining above them, and then saw a smile reach his eyes as she inspired him deeply, heart was throbbing in the walls of her chest.
She softly stroked her fingers over his chiseled face, "Tomorrow will be just fine, Mr. Wayne."
He nodded and led her by the hand gently and they walked through the ruins of Wayne Manor, as the night took hold.
A misty projection of the symbol of the bat reflected in the wispy clouds above the restless city, the amber gleam of street lamps caressed over her black neoprene body suit, Selina crossed her legs at the ankles as she patiently arched her back against the cold brick of the rampart.
Her dark chocolate-colored eyes captured the tarnished illuminations of the darkening Gotham sky, sensing her heart thump against her slender rib cage underneath the protective layer of her catsuit.
She licked the gloss off, sealing the moisture in her painted burgundy full shaped lips as an encroaching sense of adrenaline spiked through her hot wired veins.
Selina eased her night-vision cat eared goggles over the sleek straight-iron auburn locks, her lips parted ever so slightly as she unleashed a silent and compressed breath into the smoky air.
Her great black eyes shifted to the noir atmospheres in the traces and the imposing clusters of buildings as a perverse thought of elusive menacing elusive vigilante known as the Batman skimmed through her ingenuous mind until all her senses went on high alert and she felt a shadowy presence invade her territory.
She crossed her arms over torso, not creating an urge to take the air in his imposing shadow.
"Well, this is a surprise, " she purred with a breezy voice, lungs filled with smoky air. " I didn't expect to see you prowling the rooftops. Something on your mind or are you looking for a thrill tonight?"
His concealed eyes were piercing daggers of hazel, focused and yet behind the duskiness of the masquerade. He stood in the umbra against the wall, mantle draped over his masculine shoulders, she couldn't help but gaze at his mouth.
A definite of youth and firmness creating a complete arch of a savored kiss waiting for a soul mate to finally claim it from that incredibly gorgeous mouth of his, surrounding by the outline graphite shell of the devilish sharpened eared cowl.
Batman inched closer, the end of the cloak dragging on the cement.
"Carmine Falcone has gone missing." He growled, deep and husky. His eyes became changeless daggers under the mask, she felt a shiver trail down the ridges of her spinal column. "Gotham forensics discovered two bullet holes in the wall of his cell and found no traces of blood."
"Why give me the details?" she demanded falsely, stepping nearer to him. "What makes you think I care?"
"I run some trials with my instruments and the bullets match your gun."
She shrugged, pale features clouded by ire as she fluffed out a hint of annoyance, "I paid Carmine a visit to obtain something that belongs to me. I fired two rounds during the interrogation and nothing else." She narrowed her eyes and took out a plastic bag from her belt. "You're not going to make an honest woman out of me to give you the details, but I found this under his bed." She handed him the bag, and Batman settled his eyes on the thin, inspecting a playing card with a printed image of a king of spades.
He examined it closely, noticing, two large "J's written in blood on each box.
"I believe someone is about to play Russian roulette with the Roman, handsome," Selina said, looking downward at the playing card. "The odds are not in his favor."
"We're dealing with a serial killer. Two guards at the docks were found dead. I think there will be a cooling off period if Falcone is going to become his next card for the full deck." He placed the evidence in his belt, and then looked at her with a fierce gleam in his eyes.
She threw off her head, "Don't even imagine about it, Wayne." she said, firmness rested on her articulation. "I helped you for one time. That's it. Now you're on your own." She swayed her curves to the ledge, "I'm leaving Gotham for a bit and catching a few thrills in Rome." She looked over her shoulder at him, and then smirked, "Save the drama, handsome I know you've got someone else to keep you leveled on solid ground. I hope your happy with her. You deserve someone better than me, although she will still empty out your wallet."
A tiny grace of a smirk played across his lips, "Will you come back to Gotham?"
"Maybe if there's no wedding date planned." she answered, watching him stride closer, he instantly wrapped his gauntlet forearm around her trim waist, pulling her close as the mildness of her chest rubbed over his firm body, he molded her red lips with sweet, warm, curling his arm round her neck, gripping her hair as he inspired her, pressed harder making her mouth grew watery.
He deepened, moving his mouth under her, trying out the smoldering water on his lips, and then he broke away to kiss her cheekbones, her frontal bone as his hand roamed down, sculpting heat with her curves as she melted against seeping deeper into his relentless passion.
No, she thought watching his eyes slid closed. Keep him guessing. Leave him in the dark.
She pulled off slowly, brushing heat on his lips, before she disappeared into the tails.
Batman opened his eyes as his lips still tingled with the heat of her savory kiss, and then he moved a finger over his lip as he whispered out, breathless and sure, "Irena?"
Carmine Falcone faintly opened his brown eyes with the trace of latex on his head, he gasped wildly as the coldness of a blade caressed over his mouth. He shuddered has his nostrils inhale odorous breath and then caught a graphic glimpse of a snowy face of a demon with marred scars cut into grimy looking cheeks gleaming in the dim illumination.
"You seem nervous," a malicious voice whispered, a gloved hand stroked his receding gray hair. "Don't be afraid, I know how to hold the fear out of a man... All it takes it a flick of a knife and one big smile of a dead man.
Falcone trembled into shock as he felt the warm blood flow down his throbbing neck.
"Come on smile because death is just a something that puts a grin on my strange... FACE."
{The End}
A/N: First off, I want to thank everyone who read this story. Secondly the sequel will have lots of romance between Bruce and Irena (Selina), murder mystery, more villains from the comics and of course the massing murdering clown. The title will be called either : "The Shadow of the Cat or The Cat of the Black Spades.