Wild Cards

Being along the open road with the night breeze caressing my hair and face, I revved the motorcycle and took off accidentally causing it to jump. It skittered across the black asphalt as I regained control before it toppled onto me. I was following instinct. I never drove a chopper before, so I didn't really know the do's and don't's, I could only trust that the instinct that guided me, telling me how to ride this powerful machine, wasn't going to get me killed.

Also, I had to follow the scent. The sweet and spicy spices of Gambit. The dark and heaviness of those spices still stuck to me although the trail I followed was faint. I needed to see him, to be sure he was safe. Alive more like it. Fear struck a cord within my nerves and I couldn't push back the sense of something horrible had happened to him. I needed to see that he was okay. It just was something I had to see.

The trees rustled, the noise of the cycle blocked out the night melodies. I didn't hear the wind whispering to the trees of a hidden danger. But my nose tipped me off. The smell of rotting meat, old booze and stale cigar smoke. It was Sabertooth. My eyes narrowed to peer quickly around to see if I could see him. Though I still focused on the road.

I snarled to the wind hoping it would take it to him, warning him. If I saw that damned monstrous cat, I'd skin him alive. That vile creature was rude, disgusting, sexual predator, and a murderer. I could practically taste the years and years of blood from his kills.

Pushing that threat from my mind I focused at the task at hand. Magneto wanted me alive. I was off limits to that fleabag and he knew it. I was not to be touched by anyone. That was on my own accord, Magneto just made it easier to keep his minions disgusting dirty hands off of me.

I kicked it into high gear and sped down the highway, aiming for downtown. That's when I heard another motor roar to life behind me. I sniffed the air and smelt the smog it too produced. Glancing behind me I didn't see headlights, not even that of a shadow. It was close though. Very close. He was very close. I snarled again unable to help myself.

"Hear me now, kitty cat, I will never be in your clutches." I muttered the words but I could feel the shift in the wind, the low growl that whispered along with it.

The black river of asphalt was my path ahead, with just the damn cat to shake loose. I had to think. To shake myself of him, to get him to lose scent of me. What I saw caused me to diverge left, to a small road side bar. Slowly pulling to a stop I kicked the kickstand in place and hurried into the place.

It reeked. Vomit, booze, sex, and so many more unidentifiable scents it almost caused me to swoon. I quickly pulled myself together pacing to the ladies restroom. People glanced at me with uneasy drunken eyes, a woman even followed me. A smirk was plastered on her sloppy lips. Her dress reeked almost worse then the place and I could barely scent her. If this place could mask any human scent, then it could mask mine.

I walked through the door stopping in front of the bathroom wall wide mirror. Glancing at my own reflection, I knew I stood out. No makeup, which differed from most of the drunken women in this bar. My hair laid in soft curls as it normally had but framed my face in an odd crowning way. It shone darker almost showing hues of blues and greens as a raven's feather. It was rather odd for me, and I was smart to carry sunglasses in my trench. My eyes would probably cause most of the attention. But nothing that my glasses can't seem to fix.

"Rather pretty face in my bar." It was the woman. Her blonde hair poof in tight little curls all around her face like a lion's majestic mane, only there was nothing majestic about her. Her lips were practically redder then her dress as it hung on one shoulder and hugged her thighs high near her hips. Her stiletto shoes were black and that shiny fake leather, but her feet were almost too big for them as her big toe bulged out of the open toe tip of the poor shoe. Her caffs pressed into the tie strings of the shoe causing branding red marks in her skin. Come to think of it her body was just slightly bigger then the outfit she tried to pull off. She was still holding a bottle of booze in her left hand as she stumbled closer to me, "You aren't from around this quiet little place." Her words slurred sloppily against her lips as spittle left her mouth.

"I am just lookin' to hide from someone." I replied cautious of my own words. A drunk was a drunk and much more easily offended, even if one didn't try to.

"Look somewhere else hussy." She snapped at me. Glancing at myself in the mirror that I still faced her reflection directly next to me though a few feet away, I glared. I was wearing a tank top of soft midnight blue, my black skinny jeans that snugged my hips, the trench that hid my tail, and my black worn leather boots. Looking back at her own image, she was more the hussy then I was.

"I mean no disrespect, ma'am." I tried to ease my voice, but even I could tell the strain I had in it.

"You are lookin' for a cheap fuck. Aren't ya?" She questioned looking rather pissed off throwing the bottle straight at my face.

I ducked quickly covering my head from the rain of broken glass and booze. The liquid coated me in its intoxicating scent that I tried not to gag. I after all never really was into alcohol. It just disgusted and revolted me. But as I turned to face her still crouched down from the shower of shards, she didn't move closer to me. She glared.

"A pretty face like you, rollin' up on a Harley, yea you are a cheap fuckin' slut." Her words made little sense, for I wasn't what she claimed I was. She was drunk and it was her bar. Her problem for the broken mirror. I never even had sex. I felt a sigh brush past my lips as I rose to full standing, tilting my head at her slightly.

"Ma'am, I apologize for the distraught my presence has left on you. I was merely avoiding a problem but I see I had started one instead. Please let me pass, and I will leave." Words came easy, and I tried to reason, making it seem as if she had one this debate of wits. Whatever wits she had left.

Though my words did seem to affect her, for she turned and left uttering only one statement before the door shut. "Five minutes slut, an' then yo' be gone."

I silently growled at myself for the continuing name calling, but I hurried to clean the glass from my hair and tried to wash the booze out. But as I used what small part of the mirror was left still on the wall yet slightly cracked, I scented him. Standing behind me.

Without even turning I addressed him with cruelness, "Stop following me fleabag."

"Never." His voice came out in a husky rasp and I could feel my skin crawl in disgust at it. Changing my stance only slightly and unnoticeable I saw him. I saw the monster Sabertooth. He leaned against the wall his shoulder blocking the door from swinging open. His normal gruff clothing looked dirtier then normal and I wanted to retch my stomach at his unclean scent. The look in his eye said he wasn't going to be obeying any orders Magneto might have given him. If it involved me, I only had fear and hatred masked in my face.

I was in a dangerous jam again, and I thought of the card in my boot. Though it switched to the image of Gambit. What would he do? The big over grown cat traced closer to me, the door seemed to be locked and the handle broken off. Great. So main entrance was blocked from escape.

Glancing secretly around using the shattered but still hanging mirror I saw no windows or vents. Jeez, this place was a fire waiting to happen. I mentally rolled my eyes and went back to the task at hand. Gambit would use wit. I knew in my bones what wit I was going to have to use.

Turning to face the revolting creature, I smiled softly leaning back against the counter my hands gripping the edge. I tilted my head down but looked up at him through my lashes. In what seductive sweetness I could manage I softly spoke, "An' maybe your efforts will be rewarded."

His face changed then, slowly, it shifted to dark lustful eyes, stalking me, movements strong and purposeful. "Good little dog."

When he reached me, his hands gripped my shoulders, his legs squaring mine, breath so strong as it hit my face I had to force myself not to change my face. My skin wanted to crawl from his closeness but I needed him close to use a weakness every weak minded sexually driven man leaves open. His groin.

The closer he got to my lips the more momentum I entranced into my leg, tightening it and building a strength into it to deliver a blow to knock him down. When my leg finally released seconds before his pale seemingly undead lips touched my quivering ones, the pain that he felt seemed to recoil into his very soul. He shouted and cursed his body coiling on the ground as his massive built finally fell before me. My knee ached from the impact of him but I ignored it and ran to the door, I used the momentum and busted through the wooden frame causing the owner to scream and shout foul curses at me. I didn't care though.

I raced out the door and headed to my borrowed bike, almost toppling over it. I started it fast and jolted out of there. I could still hear the roars of frustration and agony fill the air. It didn't stop me or discourage me, I sped up to highly dangerous speeds and set on course again. Heart pounding in my chest, feeling closer in my throat, I wanted to break into tears as to what almost happened in that foul place.

First the foul drunken woman, and then Sabertooth coming into the Woman's bathroom just to have a piece of me! I choked on the tears at the thought. The damn rapist would have to do better then to fall for that though. And I figured with fallen despair that I wouldn't be so lucky the next time.

I needed to concentrate though, I needed to find Gambit. Follow his scent. South? What was South? But I never doubted the power of my weird nose. The night forgotten I turned off the highway ramp and headed South. Filling my lungs with cleansing breaths, I settled into the seat and continued on. Soon I will find you Gambit. I will repay my debt to you for saving me.

I never realized how much traveling calmed me. I had made such progress with my trip only stopping for gas, and necessary food rests, I had actually passed through three states. I was currently in Mississippi. The South was so comforting familiar it pained my heart, people were closer in the smaller towns, helping neighbors and friends, paying me little attention as I passed through stopping here and there to ask for clues.

But I had no such luck. I was an outsider but welcomed meeting nice people offering me the night or a meal. A rest and rejuvenation relaxation as one hefty friendly woman had said. But I only told them I needed to get moving. I only been on this trip for two days, and the progress did please, and shock me. But the scent of Gambit followed South still. To Louisiana.

I finally decided I would rest at a small family owned Inn. Gator Inn as it was called. How odd I had thought at first but, when I saw it was close to gator infested waters, it sort of made since. Checking in with the little money I had, I found my room thankfully on the second floor of the little motel style inn.

I locked the door with the three locks, the bolt lock, the door chain, and that weird lock at the top of the door that was a firmer version of the door chain. I also drew windows shut with the heavy flower patterned curtains, locking them as well. Tracing my steps to the back of the room passed the full size bed and the TV on the dresser a foot away from the bed, and found my way to the bathroom. Refreshing myself with a much needed shower, I headed back to the bed and curled into the covers, drifting into a seemingly dreamless sleep.