Chapter 25
A/N: Sorry for the long delay. The only thing I can say in my defense was that my vacation addled my brain. Any way I think I've recovered, so the next update won't take nearly as long. A big thank you to MidLifeCrisis, for her help in making sense of my muddled ideas and for the best line in this chapter. You'll have to ask her where she got it from. Thanks also go out to all of you kind enough to review my last chapter. Please let me know what you think of this one.
He'd forgotten just how much he hated New York. He cursed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. The stench of urban decay and overcrowding assaulted his senses, making him feel dirty. The last time he'd been here for any length of time was ten years ago. He'd had a gig in Queens, fighting for a week in an abandoned warehouse. Made more money then he could in a year up in Canada, but he'd never come back. The smells, the noise, not to mention how disconnected he felt from the natural world. Back then it had been more then he could handle. Now it was just more then he could stomach. What was he doing in this God damned place? Last night the look on Fury's face had been funny has hell. Now he just wanted to strangle the son of a bitch.
"I still don't get what ya think I can do Fury," he grunted, nudging the tiny scrap of silk on the table. "Gonna take me a long time ta sniff out every hooker in New York. This don't help me one damn bit."
Fury was staring at the thong like he thought it was going to explode. "We'll keep working on our end. We're hoping our contact will have more for us."
"What, she leave her bra lyin around some place?"
Fury turned to look at him, his expression cold. "If you can't handle it just tell me. I'll give it to Xavier."
Logan just smirked at him. "Why don't ya? I'd pay money ta watch Summers tryin to sort through a bunch a hookers." Then the smile faded, replaced by a dark scowl. "What ain't ya tellin me Fury? Why do you give a shit what happens ta this kid?"
"I don't. But we both know how it's gonna look in the papers if the New York cops tangle with a bunch of mutants, kids or not. It's not just the girl that the cops want Logan. Least one of them is strong enough to toss a car around."
"Or bust a hole through a brick wall." Logan chewed thoughtfully on the stub of his cigar. Without Cerebro, Xavier wouldn't have a chance of finding any of these kids before things got ugly. Not that he had much hope of doing any better. The whole deal just pissed him off. Something about it just didn't smell right.
Fury took his silence as acquiescence. Shoving all the paper work into a folder, he slid it across the table to him along with the all important thong and a fat envelope full of cash. Logan stared at him for a long time, then scooped everything up and stalked out.
The first thing he did when he got to New York was find a room. Since SHIELD was paying, he checked into a decent hotel just four blocks from Greenwich Village. After scarfing down an enormous meatball sandwich and half a dozen Molsons, he started hunting for hookers.
To his surprise, they were hard to find, at least in the areas he was looking. It didn't take long to work out why. The cops were out in force, some just driving around, while others were walking beats. Curious, he took to the shadows, using alleys and doorways to keep hidden as he watched. Finally, by what looked like a parking lot, he spotted two women. They were certainly dressed for the part, in thigh-high black leather boots and short skirts, calling out suggestively to passing drivers. Most of the cars kept right on going, but a few were interested. As soon as they pulled over the dickering began, followed closely by arrests. The only working girls he'd spotted were the law. No luck tonight. They were either already in jail or laying low. Alright, if hunting didn't work he'd try fishing.
In Toronto, with up close and personal experience, it would have been a piece of cake...or ass, as it were. He knew dozens of bars there that would work for what he wanted. Too rough wouldn't do, but the more respectable ones paid their help too well. It took some time, but he finally hit pay dirt. It was a dump, but not one where you'd end up with a broken nose. He sat at the end of the bar, ordering drinks in rapid succession, pretending to watch the baseball game on their crummy TV. After about thirty minutes he got a bite. Two women came in smelling of sex, stale tobacco, and whiskey. One of them paused to slip the bartender something, while the other made a beeline for him. A few minutes later, negotiations concluded, he walked out of Geno's with two new friends, Darcy and Marcy.
As he mimicked staggering down the street, there was only one thing on his mind. Get laid. He hadn't had sex since the night before returning from Alkali Lake and Rosy Palm and her five sisters were more familiar then he cared to admit. True, hiring hookers wasn't his first choice. He didn't customarily need to pay for sex. Of course he wouldn't be paying tonight, Fury would.
So why, despite being long over due for a good fuck and being able to get someone else to foot the bill, was he feeling guilty for what he wanted. As if he didn't know the answer to that. Janet! He hadn't promised her anything. Hell he fumed, remembering the scent of her fear, she didn't want him. She was afraid of him, repulsed by what he was.
A small voice (the horny one) inside his head whispered that it didn't mean a damn thing, it was just fucking, something he'd done his entire remembered life. She wouldn't even need to know about this. But even as that thought passed through he head, he recognized it for what it was, more of his bullshit. He still wanted her, it was simple as that. He couldn't leave it alone, no matter that his instincts told him that he was making a mistake. While he had never made her any promises, that didn't mean he didn't want to. He groaned, astonished at how his time at Xavier's had changed him.
Darcy (was she the blond one?) squeezed his arm a little tighter. "You feeling all right big guy?"
Marcy's (damn it he couldn't remember) arm snaked around his waist as she leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Where was it you were staying at?"
And suddenly, Logan knew he wouldn't take two women whose names he couldn't even keep straight back to his hotel room. Pulling away, he lurched into the next alley. For a few seconds the girls hung back, and he thought he was going to lose them.
"Shit," the blond one whispered, "I think he's going to hurl. Let's get out of here."
"No way," the other one responded. "It took us three fucking hours to find him. We got bills to pay and I'm not starting over." Calling to him, "Come on handsome. Let's get back to your place. Marcy and me are going to show you a real good time."
Once in the shadows of the alley Logan straightened up and face them. "Ain't goin back ta my place darlin."
"Hey asshole," the one that wasn't Darcy spat, "we are so not hooking up with you in the fucking alley. The deal was a room and cash."
"Never mind what I told ya," he growled, not believing what he was about to say. "I ain't hooking up with either of ya. All I want ta do is talk…"
"Fuck you," the blond (apparently Marcy) answered hotly, turning away from him in disgust. "We don't get paid for talking."
"Says who?" Logan pulled a thick roll of bills out of his pocket, pealing off two fifties. "This is for yer time. There's a hundred more for each of ya if ya answer my questions."
"We already told you guys everything we know," Darcy insisted as she snatched the money out of Logan's hand.
"What are ya talkin about?"
"You know damn well what I'm talking about. You guys spent two hours grilling us about that mutant last night. Just leave us alone, would you?"
"Uhm…Darcy. I don't think he's with those other guys. After all he's paying us, not you know, waving a gun in our faces."
Logan counted out more money, holding out five hundred dollars. What the hell he thought, it wasn't his. "Ok girls, start talkin."
"Like Darcy said, it was last night. We'd been visiting one of our regulars at the Algonquin. We were kind of tired. Lester can be so…energetic."
"God Marcy, why don't you tell him about the diapers while you're at it?"
"Darcy!"
"Ladies…I really ain't interested in what ya do with yer…customers. Just tell me what happened after ya got out of the damned hotel."
Marcy swallowed, then started again. "This guy was standing by the door, like he was waiting for us. Nice suit, looked like a business man. You know, away from home, looking for some fun. Asked us if we wanted to go to a party with him. I really didn't want to. We'd made enough money and like I said, I was really tired."
"I didn't like him," Darcy chimed in, "he was creepy. So we said no. He let us walk away, but when we got to the subway stairs there were two more guys, dressed in the same suits. One of them flashed a gun and said if we didn't come with we'd be sorry."
"Hold on," Logan interrupted. "You tellin me they had identical suits on. Exactly the same?"
"Shit dude, you got a hearing problem," Marcy asked. "They were all dressed alike. Same color, same style, even their ties were the same."
"Go on kid, tell me the rest of it."
"They had a limo. The jerk we'd been talking to before was already in it. After they pushed us in, they just drove around while they grilled us about this mutant they were trying to find."
"Did they tell ya why they were lookin for her, who they were workin for?"
"Sorry dude," Darcy answered, "they were the ones asking the questions. All they said was they were looking for a mutant, who they'd heard was working the streets around Greenwich Village."
"They told ya that," Logan asked, "about her bein a mutant?"
"No dude," replied an exasperated Darcy, "they didn't say anything like that. But like, if she can make herself look like anyone, what else could she be?"
"Don't make no sense," Logan growled. "You sure ya don't know anyone like what they were lookin for?"
"I'll tell you the same thing I told them. I never met a mutant in my life. And even if I had, how the fuck would I even know? They made it sound like she could change her freaking face. That's just too weird."
"Relax kid, I believe ya. Guess they did to, otherwise I don't know if we'd be havin this talk."
"They were all scary dudes," Marcy told him in a shaky voice. "The one from the hotel, he did all the talking. He looked at us like we didn't deserve to be alive, much less answering him. I'll tell you, I didn't think they would let us go."
"And I ain't scary to ya," Logan snickered, as he handed her the rest of the money.
"A little," she replied, "but for five hundred dollars, I don't mind being a little scared."
He turned to go, shaking his head, when the blonde asked him what his name was. He thought about it for a few seconds, then he told her.
"Well Logan, seeing as you gave us all this money, we don't really have to work any more tonight. Are you sure you don't want to…"
"I'm sure kid," he said with a whisper of a smile. "You might want ta stay off the street for a while. Don't know who the hell you ran inta, but I don't think ya want to meet up with em again."
"We don't do this every night," she answered, sounding vaguely offended, "just when we need money to pay the rent. Logan, I hope you find her before they do."
"Me too kid, me too."
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"And you're sure they're not cops? You know the NYPD is looking for her. They know she's a mutant Logan. They sure as hell…"
"They're hookers Fury," Logan interrupted, "they know a cop when they see one." He'd spent the rest of the night tracking down and grilling every working girl he could find. Exactly half of them had already been questioned by the same group of well dressed men as Darcy and Marcy. "Cops don't wave a gun at ya. They drag ya in for questioning."
"All right, so if they're not cops, then who are they?"
"I was kinda hopin you'd know that. Yer the fucking spy."
"Damn it Logan, this is the first I've heard of it."
"Now why do I find that hard ta believe? This stinks Fury. It ain't enough that you want me ta find someone with nothing to go on but her panties. Now I got competition and the only thing you can say is ya don't know."
"So you're telling me you can't do it?"
"I didn't fucking say that," Logan snarled, fighting the urge to smash the phone. "Find out who they are, then get em off my ass and make it fast, cause if ya don't the body count's gonna be pretty damn hard ta hide from yer buddies in the press."
"Fuck off Logan. There's a reason we need to keep this out of the papers. The worst thing you could possibly do for Xavier would be to end up on the six o' clock news. That's just the excuse certain people are looking for."
"Then take care of it. Cause if you don't I will."
"Xavier's been asking about you. Called me five times since yesterday."
"Tell someone who cares."
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Ray Garcia was drunk, a fairly common occurrence. Usually he was careful not to overindulge while on duty, but if he occasionally had too much to drink at lunch no one batted an eye. Not that he had to worry about hiding it now. Being on administrative leave did have its compensations. He almost laughed, staggering down the street, barley avoiding a rusted lamp post. Fucking ironic, the New York Police Department was paying him to get drunk. When he considered their generosity, how could he not take every opportunity it afforded him? And so, for the third night in a row, he found himself crawling up the stairs to his apartment after spending the better part of the day at his favorite watering hole.
Reeling down the darkened hallway, he fell heavily against his neighbor's door. Old man Jenkins knew the score and kept his nose out of other people's business. He knew that the best policy was to just not notice things. Garcia fumbled for his keys, cursing when he dropped them. He tried to bend down, but instead somehow ended up landing face down on the ratty carpet. Rolling over on his back, he stared up at the dirty yellow ceiling. He should have stayed, had another bottle. Anything was better then laying on the floor wondering when they would come for him. The earlier euphoria he had enjoyed was gone, replaced by black despair as he contemplated the mess he gotten himself into.
They knew that he'd had her right in his hands and had let her slip away. Because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants. The first day he'd walked around in dread, waiting for a call. He hadn't touched a drop, hoping that somehow that would count for something. No call, no message, nothing. After three days his nerves were shot and he hadn't been sober since. Pushing himself to his knees, he scrabbled for the right key and after three try's he finally got it in the lock. The door swung open as he used the jam to lever himself upright, his hands sliding along the wall until he found the switch. Nothing happened.
A hand shot out of the darkness, yanking him inside even as the door was slammed shut. Something hard slammed into his gut, doubling him over, causing him to spew the tequila still in his belly all over the front of his shirt and pants. Before he could even finish retching, the intruder had grabbed him by the back of his collar and slammed him face first into the wall, pinning him there with his forearm. Garcia's hand grouped for his gun, but his attacker slapped it away, taking the weapon for himself.
"You don't look so good Ray," a low gravely voice whispered in his ear.
Spitting blood out of his mouth, the policeman tensed, ready to scream when he heard the harsh sound of metal sliding against metal. Suddenly, something very sharp was pressed lightly against the side of his neck.
"I don't think so Ray. You want ta keep yer fucking head on yer shoulders, don't ya Ray?" Logan pulled back slightly so the other man could nod. "That's smart Ray, real smart. I got some things I'm gonna ask ya about. You lie ta me, I'm gonna start cuttin stuff off. You get me Ray?" Another nod. Moving his right land down, Logan let the back of his claw rest lightly on the other man's wrist.
"Where is she Ray?"
"What are you…please, whoever you are I don't know what you're talking about."
"Shit Ray, I hope the hell you ain't right handed."
"NO! Wait…this is about her isn't it? Look man I'm…I was going to call you, but she, I didn't know she could do that. She took me by surprise. Please give me another chance. I can find her for you." The terrified man paused to spit and when he'd gathered his shredded nerves to speak again it was in a pleading whisper. "I even know what she looks like, you know, for real."
All at once Logan understood. Whoever was out there looking for this mutant, they'd been at it for a while. Not only did they have their own people on it, they'd enlisted some of the police as well. A dirty cop like Garcia would be a natural recruit.
"Not gonna happen Ray," Logan sneered in a low, dangerous voice. "You got anything on her then ya need ta tell me. Now."
"You wouldn't," he squeaked, his voice breaking, "I'm a policeman. There'd be an investigation. You wouldn't want…" Suddenly he went absolutely still, as the barrel of his own gun was pressed against his right temple.
"You know how many cops kill themselves Ray? Kinda depressin what ya think about it. I might be guessin on this one, but I'll bet yer life the NYPD wouldn't miss you one damn bit. Now why don't you start tellin me what you know, unless you want ta find out if I'm right."
"Don't do it man ..I'll tell ya! Just… just take it away."
Logan eased the Glock away from Garcia's head, shoving it into the waist band of his pants. He needed to end this fast. The stench of the man's vomit and fear was making his eyes water. "Start talkin."
"Oh shit," Garcia groaned, more to himself then Logan. "I busted her a few times when she was hooking in Brooklyn. Figured out something wasn't right when I looked at some of her old case files. Same name, totally different face. So I staked her out, followed her around and I got lucky. Saw her get into a john's car. When he dropped her off a half hour later she looked completely different."
"But ya didn't take her in this time, did ya Ray?"
"Fuck no. It was the jackpot man. As a juvi, she had it made. Few months and their out again. A mutie, we have special places for them, places set up by people you don't want to know about. She told me she'd do anything to stay out of there. And she did. It was a real sweet deal for me, getting a free fuck any time I wanted."
He really wanted to kill him, just skin him alive. Instead he closed his eyes, clamping down hard on his anger. When he opened them again the other man was staring at him wide eyed, as if aware of how close he'd just come to a hideous death.
"Her name Ray, tell me her name."
"Dayla Green. That was the name on her fake I.D. the first time we picked her up."
Logan grabbed the man by his hair and yanked his head back. "You're fucking useless Ray. What the hell makes you think I'm gonna let you live when all you got is a name she ain't used in fuck knows how long?"
"WAIT…I…I don't need her name. I can pick her out anytime."
"How?"
"She's got a scar man. She can change her face, but no matter what she looks like she's always got that scar."
"Tell me about the scar."
"It's star shaped, just below her left ear. She hides it with make up, but every time she changes her face she's got to cover it again."
"You ain't makin sense Ray. You tellin me she can only change her face. Not the rest of her?"
"Yeah man…only her face. She can make her face look like anyone she wants."
Logan let go of the man's hair, pushing him back against the grimy wall. "What the hell was she doin at that club?"
"I don't know. Really…I don't. One of the door men, Eddie's his name, knows I was looking for her and that I'd pay money for any info. He called me on my cell, told me she was there."
"How the hell did he know it was her?"
"I…I don't know man. You got to believe I'd tell ya. I'm…I'm sorry she got away, but she took me by surprise."
"I got another surprise for ya Ray. I'm not gonna kill ya. I'll leave that for yer mutant hunting buddies." He hauled the other man around so they were face to face. Holding up his right hand, Logan let Garcia see the claws. Then he hit him, a short left jab that bounced the cop's head off the wall, collapsing him on the carpet out cold. Going to the nearest window, he parted the dirty curtains and peered into the darkness. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for.
Two men, dressed in identical expensive suits, loitering in the shadows on the other side of the street. Since they hadn't been there when he'd arrived, Logan figured that they had been following Garcia, hoping he would lead them to the girl. Walking back to the unconscious man, he dragged him over to a worn easy chair that faced the door. A quick search of the kitchen produced a nearly empty bottle of JD. After a fruitless search for a clean glass, he washed one out in the sink, poured himself some and drank it down greedily. Then he doused Garcia with the rest before putting the empty bottle on a small table in front of the chair, along with five hundred dollars. As an after thought he added the gun. Pocketing Garcia's keys after locking his door he casually took the stairs to the front entrance, stepping outside in full view of the men across the street. He looked straight at them, standing there long enough to make sure they knew, then strolled away down the cracked sidewalk, not bothering to look back.
He went back to the hotel and checked out, after paying to leave his bike in their underground garage. He walked to the subway, bought a ticket to Westchester, but got off half way there and found a place nearby that rented rooms. That night he slept fitfully, but with no dreams. His shower didn't work, so he did what he could with the sink and a wash cloth before checking out. After buying a cup of wretched coffee at a kiosk, he wandered down to the platform to wait for a train. He had thirty minutes to kill and he spent half if it staring at the phone, trying to decide who to call. He wasn't ready to talk to her and Xavier was out of the question, so he dialed up Summers instead. No answer, not even a message prompt. That worried him, so he called Marie. She picked up on the forth ring.
"Hey kid," he said quietly, waiting for the explosion.
"Logan? Are you alright? Where are you?"
"Relax kid, I'm fine."
"Damn you Logan," she muttered darkly, "gone for three days without a word to anyone where you are. Try again mister."
"I'm sorry Marie," he answered a little sheepishly. A part of him wanted to brush it off, tell her what he did wasn't any of her business, but he owed her more then that. "I'm in New York, least ways I'm gonna be as soon as the train gets here. Someone needed help finding a mutant."
"And you just remembered how to use a phone?"
"I'm fine Marie. You don't need to worry about me."
"Ah always worry," she replied sadly. "Ah'm not sayin ya have ta tell me what you're doin Logan. Ah won't say it doesn't matter, but Ah don't really expect it. Just tell me when you're leavin and when you're planning ta come back. Ah don't think that's too much ta ask."
"No it ain't darlin," he muttered feeling like the jerk he was. "I'm sorry for even makin you ask me that. I'll try to make sure it don't happen again."
"Good. I love ya sugah, but sometimes you can be a deeply stupid man."
"Not gonna argue with that. Everything ok there? I tried to call Summers, but he didn't answer."
That hurt, but she ignored it, thinking that he wouldn't understand why. "Jean's gravestone was delivered yesterday."
"Damn." He wasn't surprised at the bone deep regret that he felt. What did shock him was that it was more for Summers then him. "How's he holdin up?"
"It came just before dinner. They spent three hours fussin with it till he was satisfied. Then he stayed out there the whole night. Janet and Ah had to drag him in and practically shove him into bed."
"Sounds like you didn't get much sleep either."
"Ah couldn't leave him out there all alone. He didn't say anything, but I think it helped."
"Yeah," he answered, not knowing what else to say. "I gotta go Marie, train's gonna be here any minute. Have Summers give me a call, I need ta talk ta him."
"Logan," she said, then hesitated, not sure how he would take this. "You need to talk to her."
"Not now Marie," he replied, not pretending he didn't know who she was talking about.
"When?"
"I don't know kid. Don't seem like there's much ta talk about."
"Logan she ain't afraid of you, just what she saw. You gotta talk ta her."
"She should be afraid of me," he growled, suddenly angry at how much they trusted him. "All of you should. I ain't a good guy kid. Why can't you people get that."
She cursed under her breath, fingers suddenly itching to curl around his neck. "You know what, Ah'm really getting tired of this."
"What?"
"You know what Ah'm talkin about. This utter bullshit about how dangerous you are. Like we don't know? I'll tell ya sugah, most of the kids here sleep better at night knowin how dangerous you are."
"I…I ain't followin ya kid."
"We know Logan. We know you'd do anything to keep us safe. We know you're dangerous, but not to us."
"Marie I…"
"No! I don't want to hear it. We trust you Logan. I don't know why you can't see that but you better get your head out of your ass and start lookin."
"Sorry kid I still don't think…hey kid trains' here. I gotta go."
"Logan wait! Please promise me you'll call her. She loves ya Logan. Ah know that scares you, but it's a good thing. For both of you."
"I don't know Marie," he said dubiously. "Maybe yer right, at least for me. But I can't see it being good for Janet." Before she could answer he broke the connection.
"Fuck," she exclaimed, frustrated and angry at his stubbornness.
"You got that one right chica."
Marie was so startled she nearly fell off the bed. Her room mate was standing just inside the half open door, dressed in shorts and a tank top, having just returned from her morning run. "Jubes, what are ya doing here?"
"Listening to my best friend fuck me over." It wasn't the flat tone of Jubilee's voice, or what she said that made Marie wince. It was the anger, something she'd seen directed at any number of people in the time she'd known the girl, but never at her.
"Jubes, please…"
"Save it Rogue, whatever you wanna say, I don't what to hear it."
"Come on Jubes, you know it wasn't…you need ta understand, Logan ain't ever gonna see you the way you want him too."
"Yeah, I understand," she hissed, her face twisting into a sneer. "You just don't think I'm good enough for him, do ya? Can't have your Logan hooking up with a whore, even if you say she's your friend."
"No fucking way! Don't you ever say that about yourself!" Now it was Marie's turn to get angry. "Ah am your friend damn you and Ah've never...Jubes you know that's not true. Ah'm sorry, cause Ah know how you feel and Ah should have said somethin to ya. But Ah'm not gonna apologize for thinkin that Janet is what he needs."
"Sure thing Rogue. I can see how much better off he'd be with someone who's scared of what he is."
"That's not fair. Janet ain't afraid of him. It's what she saw. Logan fighting Sabertooth, any normal person would be scared of that."
"That's right, any fucking normal would. She doesn't belong here, not with us and not with him. She's only gonna get herself killed."
"Have you ever talked to him about how you feel," Marie countered softly. She knew the answer, which was confirmed by her friend's silence. "You tell me ya want him Jubes, but ya really don't wanna know how Logan feels about that, do ya?"
Jubilee looked away, slowly shaking her head. Instead of answering, she shuffled over to her dresser and pulled out a change of clothes, then left without looking back. Rogue wanted to call out to her, but she knew that now wasn't a good time to talk. She felt a headache coming on, a dull throbbing pain that radiated from the back of her head. She needed to find Hank. Maybe he had more of those sleeping pills they'd given to Scott.
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He took the train to Staten Island, then caught a cab back to Manhattan, checking into an older motel in the Meat Packing district. The Iroquois had once been a glamorous destination, but that was long in the past. From the dirty carpet in the lobby, to the pealing paint in it's outdated dusty rooms, it screamed low rent. After leaving his bag in the room, he headed out to the nearest bar that had a pool table.
A couple of hours later, three hundred and change richer, he headed over to the dance club (Floyd's…what kind of name was that) to talk to Eddie. The safe thing to do would have been to hang out till closing and follow that man back to where ever he lived. Then he could chat with him in private. But he didn't want to wait that long, so instead he approached Eddie soon after the club opened, before things got busy.
There were two men working the door, a normal sized white guy and one very large black man. Logan figured with his luck, that one would be Eddie. He waited until the crowd at the door, what there was of it, thinned out and then walked up to them.
"I'm lookin for a guy named Eddie"
Of course, the black guy. "Yeah, what do ya want?"
Logan held up two hundred dollar bills. The guy just laughed at him, shaking his head.
"You don't need to pay nothing to get in here tonight. Hell, even when we charge a cover on weekends, it's only twenty bucks."
Now it was Logan's turn to chuckle. "Do I look like someone who'd want ta be in there?"
"No ya don't man. So what's the money for?"
"I'm lookin for someone. Thought ya might be able to help me out."
"You're nuts man," Eddie answered, "I don't know anyone it'd be worth that much money to find."
"Sure ya do Eddie. Like that girl the cop tried ta pinch here the other night."
Up until then, Eddie had worn a big smile, but now that was gone. Now he looked like he wanted to twist Logan's head off. "Get away from me. I got nothin ta say ta you."
Most men had the good sense to clear out when he was like this. A few, the stupid ones, took his anger as some kind of challenge. But this guy, he was acting like he didn't care at all, and that was new.
"Why not Eddie? You didn't have any problem talking to Garcia."
"Motherfucker!" Logan could see the punch coming before the bigger man even started to throw it. He slipped slightly to his left, letting the blow graze his jaw so he could stay close. Then he grabbed him by the shoulder while hooking his left leg around Eddie's right one and used his superior weight and strength to force him down, landing solidly on top of the squirming man.
"Damn it Eddie, stop fightin me!" No doubt about it, the guy was pissed. Logan had assumed that Eddie was working with Garcia, but from his reaction he wasn't so sure. Why fly off the handle like this? Giving the bigger man a shove, he rolled off, bouncing lightly to his feet. Eddie pushed himself up and the two men stood warily facing each other.
"You tell that asshole," the man screamed, "that if I ever seem him again I'll beat his ass into the ground!"
"Will you just shut up and listen. The cocksucker told me you ratted her out to him, but it looks ta me like he was lyin ta both of us."
"You're damn right he lied to me! Told me he knew her, hell he even told me…hey, why the fuck are you askin about this anyway?"
"Eddie," he bit out, "I don't have time for this shit. I already know she's a mutant. That's why I need ta find her."
"So that's it huh. No way I'm helping some racist bastard track her down."
Logan groaned, then shifted slightly so the bigger man was between him and the people loitering around the club's door. Holding up his left hand, he popped his middle claw, "Fuck you Eddie."
"Sweet Jesus, you're one too!"
After he'd calmed down a little, Eddie told the other door man he was taking a break. He lead Logan inside, to a table in the back behind the bar. As it turned out, Eddie Barton knew a lot of mutants and was very interested in meeting more of them. Especially if they were women. Logan was a little puzzled. While he'd known men who'd developed some very specific tastes when it came to women, this was the first time he'd met anyone with a fetish for the genetically enhanced.
"That how you got ta know this Dayla?"
"What! No fucking way man. She's…well when we first met up she was sixteen, I think. Some stupid fucker was slapping her around, so I kicked his ass, but good.."
"Relax would ya. I mean considerin that she's a hooker, I had ta ask."
"That what Garcia told you? She ain't workin the streets no more, not since she turned eighteen."
Logan cursed, angry at the time he'd wasted. Still, at least he was a step ahead of the competition now. He knew if he wanted to stay ahead he'd have to move fast.
"I need to find this kid. She's got some very bad people after her. You got anything you can tell me that's gonna help me out?"
"That's the thing man, when I saw her the other night, it was the first time in six months. I was getting worried ya know, so when Garcia asked about her I made him a deal. Told him that I'd keep an eye out and let him know, if he'd do the same for me. We both know how well that worked."
Logan rubbed his forehead, thinking that if it wasn't for his mutation he'd probably have a headache by now. Fishing a small pad of paper out of his pocket, he wrote his cell number down and gave it to the other man along with the two hundred dollars.
"If ya find out anything, give me a call." Seeing the other man's hostile expression, Logan realized he'd made a mistake. "I ain't bullshitting you Eddie. This kids got a world of trouble comin down on her.'
"I don't know. You seem alright, but I thought Garcia was bein straight with me too."
"How about this. You see this kid, you give her my number. That way it's up to her."
"I can do that," Eddie agreed. "Man, I hope you're wrong about this."
"I wish I was." Logan stood up and started to leave, but Eddie's voice stopped him.
"Hey wait, just thought of something. They wouldn't tell me jack, cause I ain't a mutant. But they might talk to you."
"What are ya talkin about?"
"Genetic Delights. It's an escort service. Dayla works for them."
"Thought you said she was done with that shit."
"No, I said she was done working the streets. Last time I saw her she told me she was gonna sign up. Better pay, more security, and they really wanted her since they only use mutant women."
"Let me get this straight Eddie," Logan asked, his tone conveying disbelief, "guys know that these gals are mutants and they don't mind?"
"It's the hottest service in New York right now. I can tell ya, it's damned hard to find a mutant babe when you want one."
"Just tell me where I can find this outfit." He have to tell Xavier, whenever he decided to talk to him again. Then again, the old man probably already knew about it.
It was nearly nine o'clock when he arrived, the cab depositing him at the address Eddie had given him. Instead of the rundown building in a disreputable neighborhood that he had expected, he found a steel and glass tower at least forty stories high. He double checked the address, saw that it was the right one, and shrugged.
Walking up the stairs and through the glass doors, Logan entered a small lobby. There was an empty reception desk and another set of glass doors, through which he could see a bank of elevators. Unfortunately the doors were locked. He was about to spring the claws and cut his way in, when he noticed one wall was covered with what appeared to be intercoms, each one of which had a brass nameplate. It took a few minutes, but he found one that said Genetic Delights. He pressed the call button repeatedly, but no answer came. He was about to turn away in disgust when the tiny speaker came to life.
"Yes, can I be of assistance?"
"Yeah, I need ta talk to someone about an escort."
"I'm sorry sir, have you ever used our service before?
"Hell no."
"Well, you need to fill out our prospective client form. You can find it on our web page. After that, we send you an e-mail with your interview time."
Interview? Shit he thought, this could take forever. He needed to find Dayla right away and this was the best lead he had. "I ain't here for an escort darlin. I need ta talk to…"
"I'm sorry, " the disembodied voice interrupted, "are you here in response to our add?"
"Uh…yeah that's it, I'm here to fill the position."
"Please turn around and face the security camera."
He did as the voice asked. His sensitive ears caught the faint clicking sound the camera made as it zoomed in on him. After several seconds her heard a buzz and the glass doors opened.
"Take the last elevator on the left to the twenty-third floor, then proceed to your right to the end of the corridor."
Within a few minutes, he was standing in front of opaque glass doors. Written across them in gold calligraphy six inches high was, "Genetic Delights: The Next Step In Sexual Evolution." Shaking his head he pushed through into a reception area, which featured comfortable looking black leather furniture and life sized photographs of women who were obvious mutants, all fully dressed in what even he could tell were expensive evening gowns. One in particular caught his eye. She looked like a cat, right down to the whiskers, but with the generous curves of a woman.
"Good evening Mr…?"
"Logan." The woman who came out of the inner office was stunning. Her delicate face was framed by white and gold feathers, which also covered her arms, upper chest, and the generous amount of leg that was exposed by the tiny black dress she wore. Probably the rest of her as well he realized, finding that he really wouldn't mind a visual confirmation of that theory.
"Thank you for coming so quickly Mr. Logan. I have to admit that we're not quite prepared for you. We didn't expect anyone to respond for at least several more days."
He shrugged, not sure what he could say since he didn't have any idea what the hell he was responding to. "I'm Blysse by the way, Blysse Morgenstern, but I don't really use the last name much any more." She walk over to a steel cabinet and pulled out a folder. "Preference," she called over her shoulder.
"Huh?"
"I thought you were new at this. Male or female Mr. Logan?"
"Shit! Women damn it, that's my…preference." He was beginning to get a bad feeling about this.
"Mr. Logan. While I have to admit that you seem to have all the physical requirements for this position, that is not enough. I believe that some etiquette training is called for here." She handled him a form and a pen. "Please fill this out completely."
The urge to growl was overwhelming. "Look…Blysse, you're right. I ain't ever applied to somethin like this before. Why don't ya tell me how it goes."
"Of course. After you fill out this form, Vanessa, who is our executive director, will interview you and personally test your skills."
That sounded good. If anyone in this nutty place could provide him with the information he needed, it should be the executive director. He sat down at a table, looked at the first question and did growl.
"Is something wrong Mr. Logan?"
"Hell yeah. This first question. 'What is the nature of your mutation?' That ain't any of your fucking business."
"Mr. Logan," she said slowly, like a teacher correcting her wayward student. "This position is open only to mutants. That was stated clearly in the advertisement. Naturally, we need to know if you are indeed a mutant, as well as the nature of your mutation. Some gifts preclude this line of employment, due to the danger they represent to our customers."
"I don't think I'm gonna…"
"Please," she interrupted, "I know how difficult this can be, especially for someone who isn't an obvious mutant. But I can assure you that anything you share with us will be held in the strictest confidence. Besides," stopping at this, she gave his a very slow once over, "from what I can see, you're perfect for the position."
"Look, I'll tell you, but I ain't gonna write it down. I'm a healer." They didn't need to know the rest of it, especially the claws.
"A healer," she squeaked in delight, "oh my god, that's perfect. You're going to be very popular Mr. Logan. Our female clients are going to be very happy with you."
Son of a bitch. Suddenly he realized just what position he was applying for. While it was true that he needed a career change, this wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. Still, he couldn't deny that there were certain fringe benefits. Chuckling to himself, Logan proceeded to fill out the form, putting down whatever he felt like. Until he got to question number twelve.
"Uh…Blysse, this question here."
"Yes?" She walked up to him, peering over his shoulder.
"Ain't really sure. I don't usually have a ruler handy. Couldn't I just put down 'big enough' and leave it at that?"
"I'm sorry Mr. Logan, but exact information is required. While the way you use it is certainly much more important, our clients do have certain…expectations."
"Right." He bent over the paper and wrote his answer. Then he looked at her and saw the raised eyebrow.
"Are you sure that's not just wishful thinking?"
"Damn sure. If ya want to verify it, I got no complaints darlin."
"Oh, that would be fun," she answered quickly, then frowned. "But I'm scheduled to meet a client in thirty minutes and I don't think he'd appreciate that."
"Fair enough." He quickly finished the form and handed it to her. "So where's this Vanessa. I'd really like to get this over with."
"Mr. Logan, you don't expect…she isn't here tonight."
"Then where the hell is she?"
"I'm not sure. But don't worry, I should think that when she has seen your application, and the photograph, she will be most eager to interview you."
"Can ya give me an idea of when that would be?"
She consulted a schedule on her desk. "I would think next Tuesday."
"What! I don't have that fucking long to wait darlin."
"Well I'm glad that you are so eager to get started, but this is a very busy time. Right now she is in the midst of interviewing a number of women. You wouldn't believe how good business has been lately. I am sorry, but until she as finished…"
"Ok darlin, I get the picture." No way in hell could he wait five days. He gave the place a quick once over. Breaking in wouldn't be that hard. Or maybe he could have Summers bring Pryde down. Then it came to him. Yeah he thought, that could work.
"So," he said, trying to sound casual, "you need more gals?
"God yes! I mean, it's been two weeks since I've had a night off. My boyfriend is starting to get…frustrated."
I'll bet, he thought. "Got a friend you might be interested in. She's over six feet, a real looker, with incredible chocolate brown skin, snow white hair, and really big…"
"She sounds perfect," Blysse interrupted, glancing at her watch. "Send her in tomorrow. Vanessa is usually here by eleven."
A few minutes later he was on the street, beginning to get a little worried. He wondered if he just shouldn't show up by himself. But he needed these people to cooperate, and he wasn't sure if he could get that by threatening them. No, using Storm was the smart way to go. That is, if she didn't kill him first.
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