Dark Metamorphosis 7

This has been rolling around for weeks, and to my regular readers, yes am totally distracted but hope to be back to my usual shenanigans soon.

For you X-men Readers - if you think I'm going to leave my favorite Feral hanging in the wind you've got another thing coming...Plenty of Victor action in this one.

I normally hate crossovers but this one won't leave me alone. Christine Feehan owns everything Carpathian and Marvel comics owns everything X-Men I only own my poor little traumatized OCs. Wink.

Picks up while the de la Cruz brothers are in Romania for Dark Celebration.

Zacharias de la Cruz/OC

Victor Creed aka Sabretooth/OC

AN...cringes at the sounds of crickets...please review.

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Kat glared into the refrigerator. Not a lot to choose from, some vegetable broth that made her nose wrinkle in disgust, some kid food that she knew better than to touch, and a bowl filled with chunks of raw meat. She pulled the cold metal bowl out and closed the door.

The meat smelled fresh, at least, and she needed the protein. She picked up a chuck and held it to her lips.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." Said a feminine voice from the door. She glared.

"Why not?" she asked as an eight pound ball of fluff came running between the woman's legs, growling and barking.

"She doesn't like anyone messing with her food. I'm Juliette." The woman said, picking up the growling piece of fluff. Kat growled back, and Juliette laughed.

"I guess I can eat the dog." Kat shrugged, as her growl had no effect.

"Ginny would never forgive you."

"Well SHIT!" She growled and opened the door and dropped the bowl back inside. "Is there anything to eat around here?"

"I'm sure your lifemate will provide what you need. Besides eating is over rated." Juliette laughed.

"Not for me, and I'm starving." Kat growled. Juliette looked at her strangely, but nodded.

"How is it possible you've resisted the conversion?" She asked as she opened the freezer and pulled out a sealed box. She walked to the industrial microwave and Kat groaned.

"My mutation, and do you have to heat it up. I just need protein, and I'll take it raw."

"Mutation? You mean like Paul is always talking about in those comics he reads?" She tossed the box back into the freezer, and Kat silently thanked whatever deity was looking over her. She needed food, not processed crap.

"Yes, just like in the damned comics. EXACTLY like in the damned comics." Kat snapped. She was getting tired of being judged by such a short ruler.

Juliette opened a door, which to Kat's surprise was a large walk in refrigerator...and she could smell the fresh beef hanging in it. She followed, her nose guiding her to the freshest carcass. Her claws lengthened and she quickly used them to cut off a large piece of meat.

"I'd rather you cooked that." Juliette said. "I can remember when I have had to eat raw meat, and would rather not watch it." Kat grumbled but nodded, walking out of the walk-in and grabbing a skillet from an overhead pot rack. She threw the meat into it and dropped it, loudly, on the stove.

She flipped the switch to turn the burner on and sat down to wait, her stomach growling louder than the dog. She felt a gentle hand on her hair and turned to glare.

"I see Juliette is taking care of you." He whispered, as he slipped his arms around her shoulders.

"I'm mad at you." She growled back.

"I know, you have those formidable barriers up again." she felt Zacharias lean over her, his lips brushing her hair.

She jumped up and grabbed a fork to turn the meat that was starting to sizzle on the stove.

"Minha pequena, I can only beg for your forgiveness. Neither one of us has had much time for talk..." He said. She turned around, and they were the only two in the kitchen.

"Yeah, well something along the lines of 'exchanging blood just might fuck up your life' would have been a good idea." The growl wasn't as pronounced. He was right, she'd been so wrapped up in mating she hadn't done a whole lot of talking...and she'd basically done the same thing to him, binding them with a feral mating bond without explaining things to him.

He slipped his arms around her waist and she leaned back against his broad chest. She felt a lump in her throat. She could picture her parents at a stove, her father holding her mother just like this.

"We cannot change the past, minha pequena, we can only look to the future." He whispered as she turned the meat in the skillet. "If you feel we need to check on your father, we will go to America and check on him."

"You have a ranch to run, and school starts in two days..." She started making excuses.

"And all my brothers are home, and the children will be fine if you decide to go." His voice was low and sultry, and she could feel her need for him grow.

"He's a big boy, he can take care of himself." She said, turning in his arms, the meat forgotten for a moment. She wrapped her arms around his waist and nestled her head under his chin.

"You are concerned...it is not that difficult to do, we can go for a few days and then return home." She felt his cheek brushing against her hair, as his hands rubbed gently in circles on her back. She could feel him, pressed against her stomach, but he just held her, comforting her.

"A couple days, just to make sure he gets settled in the Hamptons. I don't want him to start fighting with grandma...and I don't know what's going on with him."

"We will leave on next rising...and you probably should do something with your meal..." He chuckled softly, and she felt the answering echo in her mind. "Eat, minha pequena, there is plenty of time left in this rising, and I do not wish to take you on the table where the children eat."

"Grow up, bonehead, not everything is about sex." She chuckled, sending him an image of her on the table, her clothes in disarray, eyes begging him. She smiled at his moan as she pulled the barely cooked meat from the skillet and with her claws cut a bite sized piece off and popped it in her mouth. He watched her eat every bite, then with a wave of his hand, cleaned up the kitchen.

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Victor dropped his bag on the bed. He'd nearly changed his mind three times on the way here. This house...where they'd conceived their daughter, where his wife's body had rested on the night of her wake, where he'd lost control and gone tearing into the night. He wondered if they ever did find the bodies of those drug dealers...then shrugged. He really didn't care.

Annabell was downstairs in her suite. She'd met him at the door, told him his room was ready, and then limped off to watch her 'shows'. NCIS and House, knowing her, she never was one for soaps. He walked over to the closet, and opened the folding doors. A gasp ending in a whimpering growl that sounded frail even to his ears escaped his lips.

All of her things, still hanging in the closet, like she would walk in the door any minute. He turned, grabbed the bag off the bed and stormed down the hall to the guest room. Amanda was dead, he'd identified her body at the morgue, he'd been the one to sit with her all night, stroking her hair, trying to say good-bye. He'd been the one who stayed until the last shovel of dirt was piled on the grave...until the rain stopped. He'd been the one that had slept on the mound of dirt for weeks...because he couldn't sleep in their bed without her there.

He kicked open the guest room door and dropped his bag on the bed. His feet took him out the door, and down the stairs. He could hear the TV and followed the sound.

"WHY!" He demanded from the door.

"She was my daughter." The soft words cut him, but he could smell the tears.

"And she was my wife." He growled back.

"She's gone, but I miss her..." The old woman looked up at him, pain-filled eyes daring him to condemn her.

"So do I. Every damned day." He grabbed a bottle of Scotch and poured himself a drink...then realized the bottle was half empty. He shrugged. If Kat were here, she'd get on to both of them, but he just poured Annabell a drink and handed it to her.

"Why are you here, Victor?" Annabell's voice was tired.

"I wish I could explain." He leaned on a wall and sipped the alcohol.

Help me...please...The words whispered across his brain, as mind numbing pain dropped him to his knees. His mind was flooded with images, held to the floor, heavy booted feet kicking hard against his sides, bones shattering until a stunning blow to the back of the head and blackness.

He woke to Annabell pressing a cold cloth to his head.

"What was that?" She asked.

"Why I'm here." He growled, and pulled back the collar of his shirt. He heard the old woman gasp, then - unexpectedly smelled something like hope for a second, then crashing grief.

"SHE'S DEAD!" Annabell screamed at him, tears flowing down her face. "That should be gone...Where is she? Where is my daughter?"

"Dead. We buried her, and before you ask, I double checked on my way here. That has been a doubt in my mind since this started." He growled, holding himself back, his first instinct was to snap her neck.

"You checked?"

"Grave hasn't been disturbed, its been almost twenty years, and the mark hasn't faded, but it just became active about a year ago." He watched her face, she was trying to take it in.

"Twenty...how?"

"I don't know. All I know is, the person on the end of this thing now is being abused and I'm going to find them." Her eyes searched his, then she nodded.

"Whatever you need me to do, Victor." She said.

"Right now, I don't even know what I'm going to do. This...thing is driving me insane."

"Call Kat."

"No...she's found her mate, and doesn't need to be involved in this." He growled. "She went through enough with me after her mother died."

"She's your daughter."

"She's grown and has a life...you of all people should be telling me to leave her out of it."

"We need her." The words were soft. He looked out the half covered window at the afternoon sun. He did need her. She had a level head, she knew how to keep him from letting the animal take control, keep him from hurting innocent people. But she had her own crosses to bear now, she didn't need him too.

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She couldn't move. She could feel hands dragging at her, feel her body roll down an incline, but she couldn't do anything to stop it. Words filtered into her ears but she couldn't make sense of them.

"...Creed wants...stupid freaks need to all die...well rid of it." She felt something damp and smelling of compost hit her face. "...cover the body...doesn't need it showing up...fundraiser." More moist particles hitting her body where her rough garment exposed bloody flesh.

She felt her finger twitch and opened her eyes just in time to see a shovel throw dirt down onto her body. They were burying her alive...She screamed in her mind, but there was no one to hear. She looked up, the branches of the apple tree swaying over her, and she could see the cross on the top of the abbey. She felt something, a surge of power through her body, and an answer.

I will find you. You won't die, it will be uncomfortable but you won't die. Wait until night. I think I know where you are. I'll be there.

She screamed in her mind as more dirt pressed down on her. A large pile was pushed into the hole, covering her face and torso. She screamed silently again, the weight pressing down on her, burying her alive.