X-Men Evolutions:
Witches Three
Rated: T –some language
A/N: I don't own X-men or X-men Evolutions. I'm a poor and likely to remain as such so please don't sue.
Like all my fanfics, this one is based on a dream I had after a marathon viewing of X-Men Evolutions. It's a MarySue because that's how it happened. Constructive criticism welcome, trolls need not participate.
PS: witches often call each other "sister".
-:--:--:--:-
The fog that crept between the trees of Graymalkin lane left shiny dew on every surface, lighting up the forest in prismatic light as the dawn parted with the horizon. It brought the promise of another chilly spring day in Westchester County, pocked by light rain under oddly sunny skies. The mist parted first over the winding roads, already heated by the early morning sunshine, revealing the wrought iron gate guarding the entrance to 1407 Graymalkin Lane, bolstered on either side by a twelve foot stone wall and the best security system on Earth ... and several other planets as well. A large white cat sat to the side of the gates, regarding them imperiously. She was smaller than a bobcat, but longer than a house cat, her green eyes flashing as she waited, tail twitching impatiently at her side.
The sun had cleared the trees by the time the gates opened, a large thee-axle van pulled out onto the road, followed by a red convertible. As the gate swung closed behind the departing vehicles, the white cat slipped inside, too small to attract the notice of the security cameras. A long drive cut into the side of a rolling hill lay before her, but she strolled along the inside of the wall, turning toward the large building in the center of the grounds when she reached the trees. She saw no movement, aside from the occasional bird, as she closed to distance to her goal.
As she reached the front lawn, she was forced to abandon the cover of the trees, and she trotted quickly through the expertly manicured grass to the large marble fountain in front of the sprawling mansion's main entrance. Taking a short break to admire the angelic statue adorning it, she took a few sips of the cool water and continued to the entrance.
The front doors were, of course, closed and secure, and the cat was well aware that anything she would do to open the doors would not go unnoticed, so she leapt off the stairs into the box ferns growing under the windows. Halfway to the outside wall of the mansion, she found what she needed: a rose ladder. The ivy wrapped in its rungs was controlled and so did not trouble her as she pulled herself up three stories, taking a break on a windowsill on the upper floors. A fourth story balcony was within her reach from the top of the lattice, and it's cool stone and open exposure attracted her feline nature, leading her to nap in the closest thing to safety and comfort she had felt in a long time.
A rush of warm wind ruffled her fur as she lay stretched out full-length on her back and she cracked an eye, unwilling to give up her comfort for a simple breeze. But, as the shadow of a beautiful cape-clad woman passed over her, she knew her respite was over. Hopping onto the balcony railing, she gathered herself into a pouncing stance, wiggling a little as she prepared to jump ten feet to the roof. The breeze had died, there didn't appear to be anything that could interfere, so she leapt hard, reaching out with her sharp front claws, hooking them into the gutter and dragging herself onto the hot clay shingles. At the apex of the sloping roof, she saw an open loft window and smelled a distinct warm and moist breeze flowing through the opening. Inching forward, she peered down into the room below, her green eyes flashing as she watched the elegant African woman sweeping tiny storm clouds around her room, watering her myriad of plants.
This is not what I was expecting. I need a new plan.
The cat sat back on her haunches and watched the rain clouds as the woman changed out of her cape and into a simple yet regal sarong. Just as the woman was walking toward the door to the rest of the mansion, the cat gave a small shrug, threw caution to the winds, and leapt into the loft, landing noisily on the bedside table, knocking the lamp and clock to the floor with a clatter.
-:--:--:-
"Goddess!" Ororo Monroe spun, turning back to her room at the sound of a crash, gathering the static in the air into her clenched fist.
All she saw was a stately white cat sitting where her lamp should be. The cat ignored her, cleaning its claws as though it had been sitting there all along.
"Storm! Is everything alright," Professor Xavior, having sensed her surprise, scanned the room before she had a chance to reply.
"Yes, Charles. Everything is fine. My feline visitor merely startled me," Ororo took a step toward the cat then, recalling a rather violent incident involving another strange cat, asked Xavier, "it is a cat, is it not?"
Xavier made another, deeper pass and responded, "I believe so, but you may want to bring her to me in the study, I will make certain."
Ororo nodded minutely then crouched and beckoned toward the visitor. She smiled warmly, calling, "here kitty."
The cat regarded her inquisitively, tilting her head slightly, then slid down from the table with a lazy stretch and sedately crossed the room to her. Ororo scratched her gently between the ears, causing the cat to lean into her hand, then slowly scooped her up in her arms and headed for the study. The cat did not object, but sniffed furiously, twisting her ears around to catch every sound in the mansion.
-:--:--:-
Two floors down they reached Xavier's study, where he waited by a large window. The cat did not see any choice but to be taken to the headmaster. After all, she could hardly abandon her plans when she had finally achieved her first major objective. There were only two others in the house, though she wasn't sure whether they were animal or human by their smell, and there was a lingering scent of adolescence over the whole building. If there were children here, surely these people were not so dangerous that she could not handle them.
As she surveyed the room, she realized that she had climbed right past one of its windows on her way to the roof. Thankfully the room had been empty at the time or her whole mission would have been thwarted then. The headmaster sat in his wheelchair, looking unconcerned, even curiously at her as she looked around. His eyes, however, had a depth to them and she could feel that depth opening before her, trying to envelop her. Quickly, with what she knew to be unwise haste, she closed her mind to his probe, but anxious thoughts leaked through her untried defenses.
"I'm a cat, just a cat. Nothing unusual about me. Not a thing. Just a regular stray house cat. Meow."
"Is that so," the headmaster's voice broke through her defenses like they didn't exist. Having never faced a mind-probe before, she had no idea how to repel him. So she decided to respond; better that he know the truth and question her than suspect her of malice and toss her out.
"Okay, so I'm not just a cat."
"That much, my dear," he thought with a smile, "is fairly obvious."
With a sigh, the cat jumped down from the woman's arms and settled on the windowsill next to the man. If nothing else, the open window could provide an escape if things got dangerous.
"I assure you, child," he interjected, "you are in no danger here, unless you have come to do us harm."
The cat raised her head defiantly, her green eyes flashing at his continued intrusion, "I am here on a mission. It is not my intention to harm anyone. I come for information, which I now have, and will gladly take my leave if you will allow me."
"What information to you seek," the woman asked; having been included in the mental conversation.
Seeing no easy way out, and knowing the last of her secret mental defenses had been breached anyway, the cat decided it was time to give in. She had not been trained to deal with mutants, especially ones as powerful as these. But, this house had a good reputation so she was certain they would let her go her own way ... eventually. Jumping to the middle of the room in a great high arc, she landed nine times the size she had been, her fur gone.
-:--:--:-
Ororo gasped as a pale young woman of 17 or 18 rose out of the cat's lanky form. She was not so different from the cat herself, her eyes sharp and emerald, her skin pale, covered by an elaborate white satin dress with a divided skirt. The only remarkable difference was her hair: it was colored in layers of stark black and blood red. She stood barefoot, shorter than Ororo, on the Persian rug and stared unblinking between Ororo and the Professor. Neither did she bat an eye when the doors burst open and Logan stalked in, claws unsheathed.
"I sniffed someone coming into the mansion," he stated gruffly, starring at the newcomer with the same unblinking gaze, "everything alright, Chuck?"
"Everything is fine, Logan. Why don't you join us while our guest explains her surprising presence."
Logan sniffed again, grumbled something about "damn cats" and "security" and left the room.
"Back to Storm's question, my dear," Xavier prompted, looking all the world as though animal transformations were commonplace in his study. Then again, for all the cat knew, they were.
Taking a deep breath, ordering her thoughts, the newcomer began:
"I am Nightshade. I'm a witch and I've come seeking the cause of the meteorological disturbances that keep messing up my spells. My sisters and I have noticed a decrease in our weather-related abilities since your school was ousted as a mutant school, so I decided to investigate. I followed the strange winds here."
Storm looked slightly taken aback, but Xavier prompted, "how did you get past our security?"
Nightshade waited a moment for Storm to recover, then said, "I've watched the grounds from the forest for a week, it seems that animals are beneath the notice of your cameras and lasers."
"How long have you known you were a mutant," Xavier asked, looking intensely interested.
Nightshade frowned slightly at him, "I'm not. I'm a witch."
"I have no doubt that you are, Nightshade, but how many other witches do you know who can change shape outside the astral plane?"
The cat did not like the direction this conversation was taking, so she turned away from the professor and asked Storm, "Is your weather ability witch or mutant?"
Storm glanced at the professor briefly, who nodded, and answered, "mutant. Although I was trained by the witch doctors of the tribes in the Sahara."
Nightshade stared at her for a moment, not speaking, looking like a cat considering an angry blue jay. Xavier watched the witch, waiting patiently for her next move. Finally, when her cat-like curiosity caught up with her she turned back to the professor.
"What do you mean, mutant?"
Xavier smiled and said kindly, "while I don't believe I've ever detected you by my usual means, it is apparent that at the very least your shape-shifting is a manifestation of your enhanced x-gene. However, this school- "
But he stopped, because Nightshade had suddenly plopped gracelessly onto her backside, looking quite sullen.
"Lame," she muttered, her face resting on her fist. Xavier was momentarily speechless, but Storm could not suppress a giggle. Nightshade looked to her like Kitty's older sister, with such behavior. Nightshade turned to her and cocked an eyebrow.
"Perhaps you should show our guest to the visitor's quarters, Ororo," Xavier recovered, smiling in a way that let Storm know her had drawn the same connection, "at the very least we can offer her a meal and a soft bed before she leaves."
"Yes, Professor," she responded smiling, "come, Nightshade, I'll show you to your room and then the kitchen."
With an odd boneless grace but the same pouting expression, Nightshade stood and followed Storm out of the office. As soon as they left, Xavier's expression became serious and he reached out to the cluttered, ordered mind of Henry McCoy.
"Beast, we have a visitor whom I believe you'll find interesting, though I think you should meet her when she is alone."
"Yes, Professor," Beast responded absently, his concentration on the live wires of the Danger Room console he was working with at present.
Xavier then touched the tortured mind of Logan, out in the east field of the estate, preparing that afternoon's training session.
"Wolverine, our guest will likely be spending the evening and she is a shape-shifter of sorts. Please keep an ear on her."
"Already got her scent."
-:--:--:-
"So, what is your name," Storm asked as they left the guest suite for the kitchen. The girl had said little beyond polite requirements and Storm wanted to get her to open up, to find out more about this other weather witch.
"I told you in the office, it's Nightshade," she was not impolite, but brief and concise.
"Yes, but what do people call you when you are not a cat or jumping through people's windows?"
Nightshade sighed, she didn't have the energy to fight for a few measly secrets. When she saw the suite with its large soft bed and wide, sunlit window she had realized how long it had been since she slept properly and in human form.
"Kitty," she sighed softly, but jumped when Storm laughed out loud. Her laughter echoed oddly in the wide empty stairwell.
"Then you shall fit in perfectly here," she said smiling. "Come, the kitchen is through here."
-:--:--:-
"We're home!"
"What a day."
"I'm starved."
"Give me back my bookbag, Bobby!"
"Catch me first!"
A cadre of young mutants came barreling into the kitchen an hour later, not even noticing the white cat curled up on the bench beneath the bright window. Cracking an eye, the cat slid off the bench and trotted for the door. An explosion of air followed by a strong stench of brimstone startled her just as a pair of three-fingered hands wrapped around her middle and lifted her up to a smiling, fuzzy blue face.
"Hey, how did this cat get in here," he asked as her lifted her. The other students turned toward him just in time to see the cat grow into the white-clad Nightshade. She, however, had eyes only for Nightcrawler.
-:--:--:-
"Kawai! You're like a cuddly blue gargoyle," Nightshade exclaimed as Kurt stood in utter shock, his hands still firmly around her waist.
Then, without warning, Nightshade brushed her cheek against his, nuzzling him like a cat. The shock wearing off, Kurt bamfed away, reappearing behind Kitty Pryde. This broke the spell on all the other students and the room erupted with noise.
"What the hell?"
"Who the hell?"
"Awesome!"
"Save me, Kitty!"
"Where did you come from?"
"Dude, I think she was the cat."
"Do you know her, Kurt?"
"She seems to know him, wink wink."
Realizing she had just nuzzled a complete stranger in human form, Nightshade looked for an escape, but she was surrounded, by the smell of it, by more powerful mutants. One of the girls smelled like lava and ash, one of the boys like ice and snow. None of them looked angry, just surprised, but she felt trapped nonetheless and backed herself into a corner, growling in the back of her throat. Finally, the girl the fuzzy one had hidden behind shushed the rest and stepped forward slowly, walking right through the table and center island in between them.
"Uh, sorry," she said uncertainly, "you kinda surprised us. Are you a new student? My name is Kitty."
Nightshade looked at the other Kitty askance and finally let out a short laugh, "so's mine."
"Huh?"
"My name is also Kitty," Nightshade clarified, taking a step out of the corner, unaware that her tail, which had come out of hiding beneath her skirt, was still three times it's normal size in fright.
Suddenly the boy who smelled of snow laughed loudly, slapping the fuzzy one on the back, "This is great, Kurt, now you have two kitties to chase."
The room exploded with laugher and talk again, startling Nightshade back into her defensive corner. Kitty tried to quiet them again but they were all too interested in the new Kitty. Thankfully, they were also interested in food and gravitated toward the fridge more than her. Taking their food to the table, they beckoned her to join, but she stayed in her corner. Kitty gave an apologetic shrug and passed an arm through the fridge door to get her own snack.
The garble of voices continued until Logan bust through the back door, which silenced them as though they were struck mute. He scanned the room briefly, taking in the scene including Nightshade backed into a corner. Then he narrowed his eyes at the teens at the table and jerked his thumb toward the outside. With much moaning and groaning and dragging of feet, the kids got up and filed out the door. Just as Kitty was about to walk past, Logan stuck out his arm to stop her.
"Not you, squirt," he said gruffly.
"Really," she said, sounding hopeful.
"Yup. Prof wants you to help our guest get settled."
"Oh," she said sounding unsure, shooting a furtive glance at Nightshade, "ok."
-:--:--:-
"So ... like, um ... where you from," Kitty asked as she gave Nightshade a tour of the third floor dorm area.
"Move around a lot, but my friends and I were in Erie. At least they were when I left."
"Your friends?"
Nightshade looked at Kitty. How much should she tell this girl? The headmaster was one thing, but this girl didn't need to know everything.
Almost as though she was reading her mind, Kitty said, "hey, it's cool. You don't have to tell me. I know we just like just met and everything."
Nightshade scoffed in spite of herself, "is everyone here a mind reader?"
"Oh, so you've met the professor already," Kitty said nervously. "I'm not a psychic, I'm a ghost. Only he and Jean are psychics around here."
Nightshade made a noncommittal noise. Kitty fidgeted nervously.
"So ... um ... what's up with your, like, greeting for Kurt?"
"Kurt," Nightshade asked, then blushed furiously as she realized whom Kitty was talking about. "Uh, well, you see, sometimes going from cat to human, my mind kinda gets stuck in cat for a minute. His fur looked so soft, that ... well, you know ... curiosity and all that."
Kitty giggled, "yeah, you and me gotta watch out for that. I hear it's fatal."
Nightshade giggled with her.
"Come on, I'll show you back to your room and we can hang out there," Kitty suggested.
"Why?"
Kitty smiled devilishly, "cuz as long as I'm keeping you company, I don't have to do training."
"Oh."
-:--:--:-
Dinner was a much more sedate affair, mostly due to Storm's presence. However, Nightshade still had to suppress a blush every time she looked at Kurt. He was looking at her as much as everyone else, but when she caught his eye she noticed a distinct purple tinge rise on his cheeks. Somehow, this made her feel better. Everyone in the kitchen wanted to know all about her powers, but Storm picked up on her reluctance to answer and steered the conversation away from the newcomer. When the food was gone and Storm sent everyone to their rooms to do homework, Nightshade slipped up the stairs to her room, keen to avoid anyone cornering her. She had asked Kitty to explain to Kurt why she has nuzzled him and hoped things would be a lot less awkward in the morning. But, in the meantime she was desperate to get to a nice warm, safe bed.
A month and a half on the road, sleeping in trees as a cat. If I didn't have somewhere to be, I might just sleep for a year if they...
She stopped short of her room. There, knocking politely on her door, was the large, blue Beast, his reading glasses perched on his nose looking almost laughably absurd after the day she'd had. Suddenly he turned toward her and smiled and she realized she had been staring.
"How lovely," he said congenially. "Nightshade, I presume. I was just coming to speak with you."
He extended his hand in greeting and she shook it firmly, noticing at once how oddly soft his fur was. Her curiosity twinged and before she could stop herself, she asked, "what kind of conditioner do you use?"
To her surprise, Beast laughed mirthfully, and said with a wink, "whatever the girls don't miss from their bathrooms. I'm Henry McCoy. Professor Xavier asked me to have a little chat with you about your powers."
"Um ... ok," she said, unsure about the topic.
"Wonderful! Come, let us adjourn to the lounge where we may converse in comfort."
The lounge was not that different from the headmaster's study, except there a large television in one wall, but this room seemed much more inviting than the first. Beast took a seat in an armchair and smiled warmly at Nightshade.
"By all means, please make yourself comfortable," he invited.
Nightshade tilted her head curiously, than decided she was just too tired for anymore espionage games. Besides, she thought, I doubt this guy is gonna freak.
With a deep sigh, she relaxed her concentration, her form relaxing as well to its natural, unnatural state. Her tail lengthened to the ground, fluffing a bit. Her bare feet stretched out until she was standing on her toes, her knees bent slightly as her heels rose off the ground. Her human nails grew, sharpening into vicious-looking hooks. Her face remained unchanged, but her ears had stretched toward the crown of her head, their sharp points poking out of her black hair. Jumping onto the back of the couch, she gave a full-body stretch as a thin layer of white fur covered her, then perched there, four sets of claws placing the barest pressure on the expensive leather.
"Wonderful," exclaimed McCoy, "is this your natural form?"
Nightshade shrugged, looking out the window to deflect the subject. The dark grounds looked indistinct under the sliver moon, the cold night air beyond the window, uninviting.
Taking the hint, Beast said, "so the Professor tells me you're a witch. May I impose upon you for a more expansive explanation?"
Still gazing out the window, Nightshade murmured quietly, "Scio, volo, audeo, confuto."
Beast nodded understandingly, "The words of the Magus. But surely, being feline of nature, you find it difficult to 'quench you curiosity'."
Nightshade turned to him, startled that he had this knowledge. Before she could ask, though, he continued, "now, as I recall, the Magus also stated that to be silent is to speak your own truths without pretense or vanity."
"How do you know the Words of the Magus," she asked, narrowing her flashing green eyes.
"One thing I daresay you will learn about me, Kitty (if you choose to stay, of course), is that I have studied many fields and a great cornucopia of literature. Naturally, that is the reason the Professor sent me to speak to you, to possibly determine where your mutant power ends and your magic power begins."
"If you have studied the Words of the Magus," Nightshade said, settling on the couch cushions, "then you already know where my magic begins and ends."
"I do have a hypothesis to that effect," he said thoughtfully, "however having never been a practitioner myself, I would not presume it is entirely accurate. I will say this, though: I do believe your magic usage has effectively shielded your mutant manifestation from our detection. Tell me, knowing now that you are mutant, would you conclude that you may know other mutants among your coven?"
"We're not a coven," Nightshade stated, with more venom than she intended, "we're a circle. Covens are elitist, not a far cry from cults."
Beast raised his hands in defense, "fair enough. Very well then, do you believe any in your circle are mutants."
Nightshade shrugged, "could be."
"Hmm ..." was all he said, and there was a few minutes of silence.
"Shun is a healer," Nightshade said softly. "I don't know if it's a mutant thing, but she's good. Really good. I'd be dead if not for her."
"I see."
"Pixie ... well, she can conjure pixies, but I'm pretty sure she's not a mutant. That seems more like a witch thing than a mutant thing, doesn't it?"
"Possibly."
"Other than that, we just do like other witches: working the weather, helping people, prestidigitation and divination, stuff like that."
"Quite."
There was silence again, and Nightshade began to feel twitchy, uncomfortable that she had said so much. When she was this close to feline form, she seemed to lose all capacity for tact and secrecy.
Beast looked up at her after a while, and asked kindly, "would you like to contact them?"
Shaking her head, Nightshade stifled a sudden yawn, "I've been gone several weeks, they probably wouldn't believe it was me anyway."
"Very well," Beast smiled and stood. "Perhaps it's best that we end here this evening. You look as though you are in need a warm bed with soft pillows."
"'Ah, to sleep'," she quoted gratefully, getting to her feet, "'perchance to dream.'"
"But what dreams may come," Beast finished as he ushered her out of the lounge.
"I hate Hamlet," she grumbled absently, "spoiled pansy whining about death."
Beast smiled again, "I never really looked at it that way."
Nightshade followed Beast, focused on the sudden exhaustion that was threatening to drown her, determinedly putting one clawed foot in front of the other, beating a path to her guest room. When she reached it, Beast opened the door and bowed her in, bidding her goodnight. Nightshade undid the clip holding her dress together, fell into the bed, and crawled under the covers, wrapping her arms around what she was sure was the softest pillow she had ever felt. Seven weeks on the road caught up with her in an instant and she fell blissfully into dreamless sleep.
-:--:--:-
Kitty Pryde was the first one up and ready the next morning. She was just finishing her bowl of cereal when the rest of the students stumbled bleary eyed into the kitchen. Phasing her bowl into the dishwasher, she bid them good morning and hurried toward the guest quarters. Hopefully the other Kitty hadn't left the mansion yet and she'd have more time to talk to her. Kitty had overheard Storm and Mr. McCoy talking about Nightshade the night before as Kitty slipped through the walls to the bathroom, and the word "witch" occurred many times in the conversation. Curiosity a credit to her name, Kitty wanted to ask Nightshade about it.
Nightshade's door was closed, so Kitty knocked lightly on the door. No response came from within, so she knocked a little louder. Still, no answer. Shrugging, she took a deep breath and phased her head and shoulders through the door. Barely a second passed before she pulled out with a shriek.
"Kitty! What's wrong," Scott came running toward her from the other end of the hall, obviously on his way up to make sure all the guys in the boys' end of the mansion were awake.
"Nothing," Kitty raised her hands in a defensive gesture, knowing she'd be in trouble if she were caught spying, "just on my way to breakfast. Tripped on the carpet that's all. See you downstairs!"
She phased through the floor before Scott could say another word, sliding through the mansion toward the kitchen. Scott looked at the spot where she vanished for a minute, considering whether or not to follow her and reprimand her for intruding on the visitor. But something had obviously startled her in the guestroom, and he felt in was more pertinent to find out what. One hand on the temple of his ruby glasses, he gripped the doorknob and pushed the door open.
He had been briefed the night before regarding her appearance, so her naked, sleeping, half-transformed countenance did not startle him nearly as much as the twenty-three pairs of glowing eyes that glowered at him the moment he came into view. Shock held him fast for a few moments; in all his years living in the mansion he had seen many strange things, including a cat-sized purple fire-breathing dragon, but the site of twenty-three cats laying lazily around the guest quarters was definitely something new. Suddenly, twenty-three voices rolled in a collective growl and Scott realized he was in imminent danger. Closing the door hastily, he shook his head for a second, then departed for the kitchen, deciding someone else could have the job of waking the new Kitty and her friends.
-:--:--:-
Nightshade twitched awake but did not open her eyes at first, wanting to luxuriate in the comfort of a clean, well-stuffed bed. Stretching full length under the covers, her feet found resistance and she cracked an eye. No less than twenty-three cats lay around the room, six of them on the bed, all of them looking at her in an uninterested way. With a groan, she hid her head under the covers. This was not the first time every cat within scenting distance gravitated toward her. She snuck a peak at the clock beside the bed: 6:50AM. She had only been asleep for seven hours. Angrily, she transformed into her cat form and turned to face the intruders.
"Alright," she told them with an angry growl, "I know I said we could share shelter in the woods. But, I'm not in the woods anymore. This is MY den and you all need to CLEAR OUT," she finished with a loud hiss.
Dejected, reluctant, and annoyed, the cats slowly got up, stretched and left through the window, jumping down the outside windows sills. Every few seconds, two cats would try to jump to the same spot at the same time and she would her them arguing. With a grumble, she transformed back into her human form, her only feline attribute remaining was her tail, and slipped into the bathrobe that lay folded on the dresser. It was soft and warm and smelled clean, and reminded her all too keenly how dirty she and her dress must be. Aside for tongue bathing in her feline form, she had rarely had a chance to shower on her voyage. She stepped into the small bathroom across the hall from her room and saw that it had a small shower stall. She couldn't resist. Rushing back to her room and grabbing her dress, she hung it over the shower door, cranked up the hot water, and stepped into the stream with a sigh. She spent an hour scrubbing her skin and hair in the scalding water, then slipped into her natural form and spent another hour cleaning her fur. After she was satisfied that her fur was the bright white it should have been, she pulled her dress into the shower and scrubbed that as well.
Three hours, two bars of soap, and half a bottle of shampoo later, she stepped out of the bathroom and darted across the hall, locking the door to her suite behind her. Dragging the desk chair into the mid-morning sunlight pouring through the window, she draped her dress across its back to dry. A sudden problem stuck her, though: she had nothing else to wear. She had no money or I.D. to get money to buy more clothes, so her choices were to stay in her room while her dress dried or walk around the mansion in naught but her fur. Pacing the room, she considered which was worse. Obviously she was safe in cat form, but if anyone wanted to talk to her, she'd have to transform. But if she stayed in her room all day, at the very least she would be being rude.
As she paced she scanned the room, suddenly spotting the neat pile of clothes on the dresser. She looked at them curiously. There was a plain gray muscle shirt with a red emblem across the chest and pair of black sweat pants, with the same emblem on the front pockets. She was surprised to find someone had made accommodations for her tail in the seat of the pants. They fit her well, which was not surprising given the number of girls living in the mansion; someone was bound to be close to her size.
Inspecting herself in the mirror, she found a pencil in the nightstand and used it to twist her unruly hair up into a wet bun. It was not much of an improvement, she still looked ... she couldn't find a word for it, but it was definitely not the look of a respectable houseguest staying in a sprawling mansion. With a sigh, she slunk away toward the door, letting herself fall into her natural form. As she opened the door, she jumped a little to find Storm standing on the other side, hand raised to knock.
"Oh, good morning," Storm sounded nonplussed, "I was just coming to see if you would like to join me for a late breakfast."
"Or an early lunch," Kitty replied, glancing at the clock; it was after 11:00.
The sun slid out from behind large fluffy clouds as Kitty and Storm walked down the rear lawns toward the lake. The water looked cool and clear and Kitty had to resist the urge to run and jump into the shallows. Instead, she allowed Storm to lay out a blanket and pull the sandwiches and tea out of the basket. Seating herself across the blanket from the older woman, Kitty gave a great stretch and sighed.
"It truly is a lovely day," Storm said, gazing at the crystal clear sky, "tell me, did you do it?"
"Nah," Kitty said, biting into her ham sandwich. "I tend to leave well enough alone unless I need specific weather for a specific purpose. Besides, it takes a lot of concentration and preparation to make a nice day. If I do it on impulse, weird stuff tends to happen."
"Like what?"
"One time, I accidentally made it snow in May."
"That can happens sometimes naturally."
"Not in Virginia," Kitty said with a smile. "So, what about you?"
In response, Storm raised one hand toward the lake and a funnel cloud appeared and touched down, drawing the water up into the atmosphere. After a few seconds, the wind driving the funnel died and the water splashed back into the churning lake. Kitty's only reaction was a cringe.
"You are definitely the one I'm looking for," she admitted softly.
"Why?"
"When you did that," she explained, "you caused an unnatural shift in the wind. You startled the wind and water spirits and they are very upset. Of course, they are also very malleable and are calm now, but the residual energy from their shock is still there. That's what drew me here, that shock on the wind. It's not so bad here as other places I've encountered it, but it is there nonetheless."
Storm looked shocked, "I hear the call of the wind and rain always, yet I have never heard these spirits. Is it they whom you work with as a witch?"
"Somewhat," Kitty absently petted the grass beside the blanket, "it's all about balance. Asking of them and giving something back."
"I see."
There was silence while they ate, each lost in her own thoughts. After finishing her tea, Kitty lay back on the grass and looked up at the clouds; a question occurred to her.
"They say you can fly," she said leadingly.
"Who?"
"The wind spirits. They say you can actually soar on their backs. The most I've ever managed is a few inches off the ground, as long as I don't move or get interrupted."
With a slight gesture of her wrist, Storm was lifted off the blanket and into the sky. With another gesture, Kitty was lifted level with her. Kitty could not suppress the laughter that rolled from her as the warm currents swirled around her half-feline form, tickling her fur and caressing her skin. With another gesture Storm gathered the remains of their picnic and carried them all to her open loft. Gently setting down on the carpet, Kitty continued to laugh even as she mentally noted the shock present on the wind. The exhilaration of flying almost overrode the sensation; she could see how Storm could not hear the spirits.
Storm smiled at her, gathering the picnic blanket and basket, "Come, Professor Xavier would like to speak to you."
With sigh, Kitty followed her out of the room.
-:--:--:-
"Ah, good afternoon, Nightshade," Xavier said congenially as she entered his study alone.
"Good afternoon, sir," she responded politely, "I wanted to thank you for your hospitality."
"Think nothing of it, my child. You know by now, of course, that this house provides a home to many young mutants such as yourself. If you wish, you may stay here, receive training with your powers with the other students here. I can even arrange for you to be transferred to the local high school. There are many mutant students there, so you should have no trouble fitting in."
Nightshade hesitated a moment, then said carefully, "I don't think I would fit in at the school, sir, or here. I'm on a mission anyway and cannot stay."
"Are you certain," Xavier asked with a knowing smile. "Many young mutants such as yourself often feel isolated, outsiders, but my school provides a place for young mutants to come together, to be a family."
"Professor Xavier, I am a 26 year old married college graduate. My enrollment in high school is inappropriate on so many levels, and I'm on a mission to find my own family and have little energy for another."
"Ah," Xavier seemed taken aback momentarily but recovered quickly. "My apologies. I have noticed that shape-shifters tend to age slowly, I had not realized you were above school age. Very well, is there anything we can do to help you on your mission, then? We are here to help all mutants, not just teenagers."
"I wouldn't object to one more night of your hospitality, but after that I must leave."
Xavier nodded sagely and said, "you are welcome to stay as long as you like. If you change your mind regarding our assistance, it is an open invitation."
"Thank you, sir."
A pregnant silence hung in the room for a few moments and Nightshade wondered whether Xavier was trying to probe her mind, or if he was thought-talking to someone else in the house. She continued to wait for a dismissal, as was polite.
Finally the professor said, "I expect you will want to be in the kitchen when young Kitty Pryde arrives; she will be there shortly and she is very anxious to speak with you."
"Yes, sir," Nightshade said, and left the room.
"She's awfully polite," Jean Gray thought to Xavier from the next room.
"It was how she was raised," he responded, "do you believe she needs the help of the x-men?"
"I didn't pick up on anything other than mistrust," Jean thought sadly as she entered the study. "Not for us, just in general. I got the feeling there are very few people she trusts, herself not among them."
"Yes, I sensed that as well. But, someone she trusts is in danger and I wonder if she won't need our help before the end of her mission."
Jean looked at the professor kindly, "she won't accept it. We'll either have to follow her or wait until she asks."
"Hmm," the professor gave a sight shake of his head and looked out the window as his students piled out of the van and into the mansion.
-:--:--:-
"Where did they go," Kitty Pryde asked Nightshade sadly as they sat at the table with the other students. She had been anxious to spend sometime alone with Nightshade and her companions.
"Yeah, I wanted to see them too," whined a young boy named Jamie.
"Me, too," said a girl who smelled feral.
"You just wanted to chase them," snickered cold-smelling Bobby.
"Yeah, that too."
"Well, they weren't supposed to be here in the first place," Nightshade said, eyeing the feral girl suspiciously. "They must've come in through the window when I was sleeping last night. I had been hanging out with them in the woods and they assumed my den was their den. I had to kick them out or you all would never get rid of them."
"What, you're not staying, freulin," Kurt asked, "and I had been hoping we could get to know each other."
"Sorry Kurt," Nightshade said with a slight blush. "Much as I would love to stay here and find out which of us sheds more, I'm taken."
"Oh, tough break, fuzzy," Bobby chided, elbowing Kurt in the side.
"You have a boyfriend," squealed Amara. "What's he like?"
Nightshade looked sideways at Kitty and Kitty shrugged. The day before, when they were hanging out in the guestroom, she had told Kitty how old she was and about her husband. Apparently Kitty figured the others wouldn't mind either.
"I don't have a boyfriend," Nightshade said with a deliberate pause before continuing, "I have a husband.
Silence met this statement; Jamie dropped his spoon on his lap and multiplied twice.
"Your married," blurted the southern boy called Cannonball. "How is that- Wait a minute, how old are you?"
"Old enough to know that's a rude question."
Everyone began complaining at once.
"Oh come on!"
"Please!"
"No secrets from the X-men."
"I bet Kitty knows."
"How old is she, Kitty?"
Nightshade looked at Kitty again, who was trying hard to suppress a fit of the giggles, and nodded slightly.
Kitty cleared her throat and straightened up in a mock-dignified air and said, "our esteemed guest is 26."
"No way!"
"She looks like she's in high school."
"Maybe it's the whole shape-shifter thing."
"How 'bout it, Rahne?"
"I wouldn't know," Rahne, the one who smelled feral grumbled, "I'm not in my twenties."
"Hey," Nightshade said in mock-outrage, "26 is not that far from 17."
"So ..." Amara said leadingly, "tell us about your husband."
"Not today, firebug," Wolverine interrupted from the outside door. "Time for training. You too, squirt."
Once again with moaning and groaning, the students exited past their teacher, grumbling about living to see 26. Nightshade moved to get up from the table but was pinned by Wolverine's sudden angry gaze.
"I know about the visitors you had last night," he growled. "Do you have any idea how many of them sprayed the mansion? Not to mention what they did to the sensors in the lawn."
"I didn't invite them, they followed me," she said aggressively, "and I told them to leave and not come back."
"I better not see anymore shadows in the night, Kitty. Or we'll see what cat-meat tastes like."
Nightshade didn't respond, but stuck out her tongue as he walked away.
"He has been known to keep them as souvenirs," called a friendly tenor from behind.
"I'll bare that in mind," Nightshade smiled at Beast as she left the room.
-:--:--:-
It had not been her intention to sleep for long when she returned to her room after lunch, but the sunbeam spreading across the floor was just too comforting, and after it left the bed was just too inviting. At some point some one had knocked on her door and called her to dinner, but she was just too exhausted from the events of the previous 24 hours, not to mention the previous 7 weeks. However, her sleep was not dreamless this time. Images of her husband and dark-clad figures drenched in blood, her own pain and screams haunting her. But it was an old dream, not nearly as scary as it had been the first ten times she had it, sleeping unprotected in woods and under porches in cat form. The only difference was this time someone was there to wake her up.
"Kiki," the squeal jolted her awake instantly, and she had to fight to keep her claws in check as a familiar scent engulfed her and a petite winged girl pounced on her chest.
"Pixie," Nightshade gasped once she had gathered her wits "Shun!"
Shun waved from the foot of the bed, looking much more sedate than the squealing Pixie, "Hi, Kitty."
Nightshade raised her arm to wave back and Pixie punched her in the stomach, winding her.
"How dare you scare me like that," she growled loudly, "Shun and I have been scared half-to-death. First Ryu gets taken and then you run off. Lucky for you Shun was able to pick up your trail finally. How long were you in cat-mode, you know she can't sense you like that. You're gonna be so sorry when my pixies get through with you. What were you thinking? If you weren't my sister, I'd-"
But, she was cut off mid-sentence as Wolverine came barreling through the door, claws unsheathed and growling, Cyclops, Jean, Beast, and Storm right behind him. "How the hell did they get in here," he demanded.
"Hey," Pixie screeched, jump from the bed to the raging X-man is a graceful arc, staring up at him with her hands on her hips, "nobody's talking to you, shorty, so get lost."
"Oh, shit," Nightshade said, hiding under her covers.
"I wouldn't get her mad if I were you," Shun warned, backing away from the scene slowly.
Wolverine sputtered for a minute, unable to fathom how a 90-pound wisp of a woman expected to call him out and live. Finally his gaze settled on Nightshade, and he demanded again, "how ... did they ... get in here?"
"Hey," Pixie snapped her fingers curtly in front of his face and grabbed his chin, turning his face back down toward her, "you're not talking to her, you're talking to me, you dwarf sonovabitch. Now, what have you bastards been doing to my friend? If you've hurt her, I'm gonna shove those claws so far up your..." The tirade that followed had everyone speechless, even Wolverine, and it didn't end until Shun felt it was safe to take Pixie's arm and drag her, still ranting, back over to the bed.
Wolverine seemed barely able to contain his rage by the time she finished, though Jean and Cyclops looked fairly impressed. To save them another explosion, Beast stepped in front of Wolverine moving slowly toward the bed.
"You must by Shun and Pixie, if I'm not mistaken," he said pointedly at Nightshade, who nodded minutely, eyeing Pixie warily. "Well then, welcome to Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters. If you would be so kind, please elucidate how you managed to bypass our sensors and defenses."
Shun looked at Pixie questioningly, then said, "we flew."
"Ah, but our defensive systems are perfectly capable of detecting and eliminating airborne intruders."
"Well, we confused them," Pixie said in a tone that clearly stated the conversation was over.
"Confused them," Wolverine demanded, shaking with rage.
"That's right, oompa-loompa, you gotta problem with that," Pixie demanded.
"Damn right I do, you little," Wolverine began, but was stopped by the professor's timely entrance.
"As I am sure these young ladies will be more than happy to share their knowledge with us shortly, Logan," he said in a stern voice, "I believe it is more pertinent that Kitty be allowed to speak with them in private first. Come, everyone."
"Thank you, Professor," Kitty said gratefully.
The X-men all left, presumably returning to bed, but the three girls could hear Wolverine pacing outside, snatches of his rant seeping under the door, "sure, nevermind that Magneto never ... when three teenage girls can waltz ... let's just open the doors, let anyone ... don't know why we bother to upgrade ... goddamn piece of shit ..."
"Jeez, he's pleasant," Shun said when his footsteps finally faded.
Nightshade nodded, "be glad he didn't eat you."
"Midget'll have to catch me first," Pixie responded.
"I heard that!" came a loud growl from down the hall.
Pixie responded by sticking out her tongue while Nightshade and Shun giggled.
"Where was I," Pixie asked.
"You were in the process of ripping me a new one, and then you were gonna tell me what you're doing here," Nightshade said, hugging her two best friends.
"Meh, I lost track of the reaming. I'll just skip to the important stuff."
"What's that?"
"We found him," Shun exclaimed in a hushed voice.
"What," Nightshade yelled, jumping out of the bed, "where? Is he alright?"
"We don't know yet," Shun said in a soothing voice. "He's somewhere northwest of here, Canada. We narrowed it down to a settlement around Alkali Lake, in British Columbia."
Stunned, Nightshade asked, "how? Not scrying, that wasn't working before."
"Well, if you had stayed instead of taking off on your own as soon as you recovered," Pixie said with her arms folded in a scolding fashion, "you would have been able to help us. Shun's power tracked him down, and my scying (which is your specialty, might I add) helped nail down the location."
"You can still sense him," Nightshade asked and Shun nodded, "and he's still alive?"
Shun nodded again, but added in a slow voice, "but he's hurting. Whatever they're doing to him, it isn't good."
Nightshade had begun to pace, "how long have you been able to sense him?"
Shun shrugged, "not long. A couple days after you left, I began to get a vague sense of him, but it comes and goes. It's been getting stronger the farther north we traveled, tracking you."
"Yeah, you move pretty fast for a chick with a gut wound," Pixie grumbled.
"How is it, by the way," Shun asked looking concerned.
Kitty did a backward arch, flipped to her feet and continued pacing, "good as new. You know you're a miracle worker."
"I'd never tried to heal anything that complicated before. I was worried."
Kitty stopped and looked at her friend smiling, "so is that how you're tracking us? Is that why you feel connected to everyone you heal?"
"Hey, enough about that," Pixie said, planting herself between the two of them, "we need a plan."
"Did you guys bring a car?"
"Rental," Shun responded.
"Did you get the extra insurance?"
"You bet you ass," Pixie said.
"Then let's go."
"If you will delay a few hours," the professor interjected in their minds, "we may be able to assist you."
"Hey," Pixie yelled, "who said you could get in my head?!"
-:--:--:-
"So let me get this straight," Pixie (whose wings had disintegrated into a swirling cloud of her tiny, fairy-like creatures), planted herself firmly in front of the professor, her hands on her hips, "she told you we're witches and you just assume we're mutants too because we have powers?"
"That is correct," the professor said benignly. "You three have escaped detection up until now because you are witches, but Nightshade's metamorphic ability, Shun's healing power, and yes, your pixies are mutant powers."
"And you want us to hang out at this school to what, be super heroes?"
"I think it'd be kinda fun," Shun said quietly from the corner. Pixie threw up her arms in exasperation.
"Pix," Nightshade said with thinly-veiled impatience, "if you're done berating Professor Xavier, it's time we were on the road."
Pixie said nothing, but nodded as she walked over to the couch, plopping gracefully onto one of its over-stuffed arms.
"Professor Xavier," Nightshade said politely, completely eliminating the anxiety in her voice as she addressed her host, "I'd like to thank you for your hospitality. I appreciate you taking me in after I trespassed on your property. If you ever require my assistance, please don't hesitate to ask."
Meaning it to be her words of parting, Nightshade strode forward, her hand extended. But, the professor did not take her hand, but merely stared at her with his piercing glare. Slowly, almost unbidden, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Very well, Kitty," he said calmly. "I accept your offer and call in your debt."
"What," Nightshade and Pixie said simultaneously, Pixie leaping off the couch.
"It just so happens I require your assistance this very night," he continued as if they hadn't spoken. "It has come to my attention that there is a facility located under the dam of Alkali Lake, in the British Columbia of Canada. This facility seems to be the location of illegal mutant testing and must be investigated, any captives freed. Now, as it is on the other side of the continent, you will be required to accompany Wolverine in the Blackbird. As this in an international mission, he will be the only X-man to participate. I have connected you three through a superficial psychic rapport that should wear off after you've returned. There are uniforms waiting for you on the jet. The jet is being prepped and will be ready for take off within the hour."
Shun and Pixie stood stunned, staring at the professor as if he'd just grown three heads. Nightshade blinked back tears and hugged the professor gratefully.
Xavier chuckled quietly, then said, "you'd best hurry and make your preparations. Wolverine not known for his patience and will likely leave without you if you are not on board the instant the jet is fueled and ready."
"Thank you, Professor," Nightshade said gratefully, without a hint of formality, then grabbed Pixie and Shun by the hand and dragged them out of the room.
-:--:--:-
Given all the excitement, Ororo was having difficulty returning to bed. She opted instead for a quick flight around the grounds. The cool evening air did not effect her skin, but she found the brisk chill and shining dew of moon-shrouding clouds refreshing nonetheless.
She was about to alight in her loft once more when she spotted a small fire down by the dock of the lake. Shifting the warm winds that bore her, she brought herself within sight of the three newcomers standing in a circle around the flames, hands and faces raised to the shrouded moon. Ororo did not fly close enough to interfere, but the wind carried snatches of the girls' chanting to her, words like protection, safety, love, and blessing warming her and chilling her at the same time. Her understanding of modern witchcraft was very limited but even she could detect the glowing energies the witches were calling forth.
Suddenly feeling like she was intruding, Ororo turned on the wind and returned to her loft, though she knew sleep was a hopeless goal at that point.
-:--:--:-
"Let's get one thing straight," Wolverine grumbled after take off, "I'm leading this mission. I give the orders. You don't wanna listen to me, fine. It's your neck."
Pixie mimicked him from the back seat and Nightshade and Shun had to suppress a giggle. That was the only thing Wolverine said the whole flight, though the girls were busy discussing strategies, taking full advantage of their temporary mental connection.
"I should be the only one to go in, my cat form gives me the advantage," Nightshade thought to them resolutely.
"Sure you are, and I'm so going with you," Pixie commanded.
"What about me," Shun thought fiercely.
"You don't want to go in there, Shun," Nightshade thought gently, "besides, if something happens to you, whose gonna heal you?"
Shun pouted a little but didn't argue. She had come to accept the fact that she was a field medic, not a soldier. Sure, she could heal herself, but anything more than a papercut took too much energy. She listened as Nightshade and Pixie argued over who was better for what type of infiltration and, by the time they landed in a snow-covered field by a large expanse of water it was decided that that Nightshade would enter, but Pixie would send several of her minions into any access points they could fit through.
"Alright, listen up," Wolverine said after the jet was shut down, "we're gonna do this my way. Shun, you're-"
"-staying here, yeah, I know," Shun sounded almost sad. Almost.
"Uh, right," Wolverine faltered, "Pixie, you're going to-"
"-send my minions in through air vents, etc, and communicate what they find. Duh."
Wolverine growled, but whether he was annoyed with the interruptions or with the fact that these girls had devised the same plan was unclear. He turned to Nightshade and said, "and what will you be doing then?"
"Cat-form, sneaking in, getting my husband, and getting the hell out."
"And staying out of my way," he grumbled as he pushed past her to open the hatch.
The bright snow blinded Nightshade at first as she and Pixie followed Wolverine across the field into the woods surrounding the large lake. They followed the x-man for about a mile before they could see the dam through the trees, and then another couple hundred yards to reach the maintenance station at its base. From the trees, Nightshade spotted the armed guard lounging in a chair inside. Nodding to Pixie, she turned to Wolverine to tell him Pixie's minions were going to find them a way around, but he way gone. With unbelievable speed for one so stocky, he rushed the guard station, sliced through the steel door, and knocked the guard unconscious before the man was even on his feet. With a shrug, Pixie and Nightshade followed into the small room. All that was in there was panel of monitors, showing a series of causeways and floodways, and another door leading into the dam itself. Wolverine, it appeared, had seen no need to wait for them and proceeded through the internal door before they arrived, as the fresh claw-marks attested.
"Ok," Nightshade thought to Pixie and Shun, "looks like he's not interested in our mission. If anything happens to Ryu because of him..."
"Right there with you, Kiki," Pixie sent, "now, let's find you a smarter entrance."
With Nightshade standing guard, Pixie sent out a cloud of her minions, with instructions to find the fastest route to Ryu. Nightshade could hear the chatter and sense the barrage of images Pixie was receiving from the tiny creatures. It had never occurred to her that Pixie was connected to all of them at once. Hundreds of little brains reported back 30 or 40 possible entry points, but it was nearly an hour before one of them found their objective. Pixie paled at the sight of the shared image but said nothing to Nightshade, who was grumbling about Wolverine taking so long, doing whatever it was he was doing.
"One of my pixies passed him on a catwalk," Pixie said, her voice slightly higher than normal, "he was thinning out the guards and getting info from a computer bank. I guess that's his mission. I've got your entry."
"Send it to me," Nightshade said mentally, preparing herself, "then get back to the jet with Shun."
Pixie didn't argue and sent Nightshade the mental image the successful pixie had given her, careful to omit the disturbing image of her sister's husband suspended in a tube of goo with wires and needles sticking out of his body. When Nightshade had the path fixed in her mind, she transformed into her cat-form, knowing that would all but sever her connection with the others. In the last moment of her transformation she caught a stray thought Pixie sent to Shun, "Shun, you better rest up. You're gonna have your work cut out for you."
Barely sparing a thought about what horrifying thing prompted Pixie to comment that, she waited until Pixie was well away from the dam before she shot down the narrow floodway that would lead her to her husband. The tube was small, barely large enough for her to crouch through, and was full of closed pressure valves. Achingly slow, she slunk on her belly through the grime, turning left here, right there, doubling back around a clogged pipe for what seemed like forever. Finally she reached the correct maintenance access point, carefully opening the heavy door and slithering through. The maintenance tunnels were larger but not cleaner, and they had grated floors that snagged her claws when she ran. Again she was forced to move agonizingly slow through the twisting tunnels. By the time she reached the access into the main facility, she was on edge, barely able to maintain her form. Looking through the ventilation screen, she tried to calm herself, regulate her breathing, but what she saw below her shocked all the air from her lungs.
Ten feet below her hiding place was a massive lab, with several control stations, six chemical vats filled with bubbling, molten metal, and six suspension tubes, five of them empty. In the one closest to her, surrounded by men in lab coats, was the love of her life. He was unconscious, suspended in a thin green liquid, a breathing mask strapped to his face. At least twenty large needles stuck out of his arms legs and chest, and it looked like there were more in his back. His arms were suspended in front of him and had strange, fin-shaped metal devices sticking out of the outside of his wrists.
Anger swelled in Nightshade's chest, stretching her body out into her natural form. The scientists were arguing below her (what about, she didn't care), their backs to the maintenance tunnel. With a growl that seemed too small to show her rage, Nightshade kicked out the vent and leapt toward the group. They stared stunned at her as she landed among them, and only when she stared slicing them apart did the panic begin. But it was already too late to get away. As a witch and thereby a pacifist, Nightshade could not bring herself to kill them, even in her rage-dulled mind, so she destroyed tendons, broke bones, tore Achilles heels. Within seconds, only one man remained standing, running for the control panel. In a flash, she jumped on his back, letting her hind claws sink into his skin and muscle. He screamed, but she didn't care. She calmly placed one claw on his skin over his jugular and bent her head around to face him.
"Release him," she whispered in a low growl.
The man did not move. She increased the pressure of the claw at his throat, drawing a tiny red pearl of blood.
"Release him," she said in a horribly sweet voice.
The man reached down, whimpering as his arm pulled on the muscles her back claws were still piercing. He pulled a large circular key from his pocket and stuck it into a slot on the console. Then, crying a little as he did, he reached out his other arm and pressed a large red button on the opposite side of the panel as he turned the key. A claxon sounded immediately, but Nightshade did not release him until she saw the liquid draining from the suspension chamber, the needles disengaging from her husband's body. As the glass tube lowered into the floor, she jumped off the man with a vicious dig of her claws and landed at Ryu's side, catching him as he fell forward.
He moaned a little, fluttering his eyes and she suddenly found herself close to tears. But, she brought herself around with the realization that the alarm would bring guards any second and she had no idea how to get Ryu out to the jet, nevermind how she would manage to drag him that far without hurting him.
"Any ideas, ladies," she cried desperately in her mind.
"Hold on a sec," Shun said calmly, "he'll be there soon."
At that moment, a door on the far side of the room burst open and Wolverine, his uniform shredded with bullet wounds, was thrown in. He slammed against the opposite wall with force enough to dent it, but jumped back to his feet and out the hall again, from the sound of it dispatching his failed-dispatcher. A few seconds later he came skulking through the door, looking for something else to hurt.
"If you're through playing," Nightshade tried to put on an annoyed facade, but she was just too happy to have an exit.
"Can you walk," Wolverine asked gruffly of Ryu.
Nightshade was just about to point out that he was unconscious when she heard her husband's soft voice say, "yes."
Relief flooded through her, almost blocking out her senses, and she moved to kiss him. But, the look of rage on his face, the smoldering fury in his eyes, stopped her. There would be time for reunions later; right now he needed revenge. As she helped Ryu to his feet and steadied him, there was the soft whisper of a sword unsheathing. Nightshade looked down at his arms and fought to suppress a gasp. The metal fins on his arms, which she had thought detached with the rest of the mess, were gleaming sharply along his forearms, attached at the knob on either wrist. He didn't seem to notice the difference, but stood calmly waiting for whatever came next, though the pure fury and need to do violence still shone in his eyes. Unsteady at first, but gaining strength, Ryu walked toward Wolverine, who turned and stepped out into the hall again. Nightshade could do nothing but follow, preparing herself for the battle they might face on their way to the surface.
As soon as she was in the hall, Wolverine pulled a small device from his belt, pressed a button, and tossed it back into the lab. When she looked at him askance, all he said was "EMP". Then the three of them started down the corridor. It wasn't long before they heard the approach of running footsteps. Nightshade saw Ryu tense, wanted to tell him to step back and let Wolverine handle it, but she knew he needed to fight, needed to avenge himself. A dozen men turned into their corridor at an intersection less than ten feet away.
There was a moment of shock when neither party moved. Then, the violence. Nightshade never had a chance to raise a claw, couldn't if she had wanted to. She was dumbfounded by the scene before her. Wolverine, shouting and growling with reckless fury, slashed his way into the assault team, cutting through their defenses like a berserker. Ryu, however, was silent, methodical, but no less deadly. His years of martial combat training did more damage than his new weapons, though the weapons helped. Within seconds the battle was over, the floor slick with blood and clogged with bodies. Wolverine stood growling for a few moments, but Ryu stood silent and ready.
Nightshade had never seen her husband in combat mode before the night he was taken, and even then she took a shot to the belly early on, which probably proved the fatal distraction that allowed him to be captured in the first place. Seeing him fight like this almost frightened her. Almost.
They moved on through the tunnel, not bothering to hide their footfalls, the three of them only met three other groups of guards on their way out, and they were all dispatched in a similar fashion. When they finally burst out through the watch station and sprinted into the woods, Nightshade took a deep breath of the clean forest air. Then, she realized the distracting buzzing in her head since the battle started was Pixie demanding through the rapport to know what was happening. With a sigh, she sent a quick, "we'll be there in a minute," and followed the men through the woods to the Blackbird.
On the way back to New York, Wolverine said nothing; even Pixie and Shun were sitting quietly in the front of the cockpit. Sitting in the back, Nightshade and Ryu rode silently next to each other. Nightshade could tell he was not ready to talk yet, though she was bursting with things to say, to comfort him, to convince herself he was all right. Instead, she slipped her hand into his, and was relieved that he did not pull away. She simply settled for sending him loving, comforting energy through their physical connection, using her magical gifts to help him heal.
"Ugh, I'll be so happy when this psychic link goes away," Pixie grumbled.
"Why," Shun and Nightshade asked at the same time.
"Cause I don't wanna have to hear every gooey thought Kiki has about Ryu for the rest of my life. Seriously, who wants to hear that?"
Nightshade smiled in spite of herself, squeezing Ryu's hand gently, which he returned.
The Blackbird landed in the waterfall bay just as the sun was setting on Westchester. Though the group was greeted in the hanger by Kitty Pryde and several other students, they rushed through the welcoming party and walked up to Xavier's study to give their accounting of what happened. Wolverine did most of the talking, speaking in short, curt sentences. When he was finished, Xavier gazed out the window, looking down on the grounds as he considered all he had heard and all he had sensed.
"It was the Hydra Weapon X project, Chuck," Wolverine said when the silence had stretched on too long for his comfort. "I got all the data I could before I blew their computer banks. Probably get Hank to decode it."
"Yes," was all the professor said.
After another long interval, Nightshade asked quietly, "if that's all you need from us, sir, may we retire to the guest quarters?"
Xavier turned and smiled warmly at them. "Of course," he said, "I've had Kitty make up the rooms near yours, Nightshade, for your friends. I hope you find them to your liking."
"Thank you, sir."
Leaving the study behind gratefully, the four of them made their way up to the guestrooms. With a tired gesture, Pixie and Shun waved to Nightshade and Ryu and went into their separate rooms. Nightshade led Ryu into her room. It had been less than 24 hours since Pixie and Shun had burst in through the window, announcing that they had a tentative location on Ryu, yet the room seemed strangely different now. Now that she had her husband back, now that he was relatively safe, the room seemed like the most comfortably place in the world. She led Ryu over to the bed and sat down, looking up at him as he remained standing.
For a long time he stared off into space, seeing nothing. Nightshade tried to keep herself calm, tried to restrain the torrent of emotions that built up inside her. Her tail twitched irritably as she waited.
"This is real," Ryu asked quietly after a long time.
"Yes, my love."
"You're alive," he asked, meeting her eyes for the first time.
Nightshade raised his hand, careful to avoid the small metal bolt on the side of his wrist that marked where the fin-like blade had retracted, and pressed his hand over her heart.
"Yes, my love," she said softly.
He swallowed hard. "And the baby," he asked hesitantly.
Nightshade lowered his hand to her abdomen, "right where she belongs for the next six-and-a-half months."
He smiled at her, and she saw some of the light return to his haunted eyes.
"When I saw you hit…"
Nightshade waved her hand airily, "it was just a flesh wound."
"It was a sub-machine gun!"
"Shun was nearby. She heard the gun blast and came running."
Ryu looked at her askance, then said, "I guess I owe Shun a steak."
"Hey, is that all I'm worth to you? A steak dinner," Nightshade tried to pout, but she couldn't keep from smiling. She had him back. When he leaned down and kissed her, she knew she finally had him back.
-:--:--:-
Two days later, the witches and Ryu stood in the foyer of the mansion, saying their good-byes to their strange new allies.
"You are welcome to stay if you wish," the professor said for the tenth time, "you are always welcome here."
"Thank you, Professor Xavier," Kitty said with a slight bow, "but we must return to our own people. There's more than one war on the horizon, though I doubt our adversaries will make the distinction between witch and mutant."
"Too true, that fear of the unknown drives the ignorant to arms," Beast interjected.
Ryu nodded to him, a grim look set on his face.
"We'll stop by and visit," Pixie said enthusiastically. "A girl could get used to living in a place like this."
With a trail of waves and good-byes, the four piled into the small rental car that had been brought in from the street outside the gate. No words were exchanged as Pixie fired up the engine and they pulled off down the lane. They were leaving behind powerful friends, ones they all knew would need to be called upon someday soon, as the Witch Wars were looming just over the horizon. But, until the time for fighting arrived once more, they were safe.
Epilogue
Ororo Monroe sat on the roof outside her loft, her eyes closed and her mind troubled. She had been disquieted ever since Nightshade had mentioned her effects on the spirits of the elements. Ororo could feel the wind and rain, but she could not hear the spirits that drove them like the witch could. She spent many hours on the roof meditating, letting the weather continue its natural flow around her, but never feeling a spirit. By nightfall, she was frustrated and exhausted from the effort, but she resolved to continue to reach out to the spirits of the elements until she got a better idea of her effect on them. Just as she was standing to swoop down into her room, a tiny voice floated to her ear.
"Whatcha doin'," the voice asked.
Ororo looked around for the speaker, seeing nothing but the night sky.
"Oy! Down here," the voice insisted from the vicinity of her bosom.
Ororo looked down curiously, surprised to see one of Pixie's tiny summoned faery-creatures standing on the swell of her breasts, its tiny hands on its tiny hips.
"Goddess! Are you lost, little one?"
"No," it said with a tiny pout, "I supposed to be here. Are you?"
"Ah, no. Just a bit confused. Why are you supposed to be here?"
The tiny creature fluttered up and posed importantly in front of Ororo's face, "I'm supposed to keep an eye on you all, keep you outta trouble."
"Oh my, you have your work cut out for you, little one," Ororo tried to keep a straight face, but couldn't hide her amusement. The little pixie seemed to take offence.
"You didn't answer my question," she squeak irately.
Ororo ducked her head apologetically then said, "I was trying to listen to the wind. But, thus far I have been unsuccessful."
"Listen to the wind? That's easy," offense forgotten, the pixie began to fly in excited circles around Storm's head, "I can teach you, for a price."
"A price," Ororo asked, holding out her hand for the pixie to land on.
The pixie accepted the perch and said, "I demand honey and pizza in exchange for my services."
"Pizza," Ororo asked.
"Or I won't teach you a thing," the pixie said with a stubborn nod.
Ororo smiled at the small creature for a moment, then decided there was no harm in agreeing to her terms, especially since she had valuable information to share and might provide further insight into the powers and lives of their witch-allies.
"Agreed."
"Good," the pixie took hold of the end of Ororo's thumb and shook it vigorously. "Honey first, then you get your first lesson."
The end