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Chapter 26: Royal Company

She had not seen such tumultuous times since the Fall of Jerusalem in 1187, when she'd lost her kingdom. Sybille twirled the delicate stem of her glass between her fingers, letting the few drops of blood at the bottom roll with the movement. She'd known that Russell Edgington was planning something, of course, although she wasn't entirely sure what he had in mind. There were things that even she didn't know about. Van Helsing's call had startled her a little, to be honest. Russell Edgington was the one in charge of those marked weres? Now that she thought about it, it really wasn't so surprising, but she certainly hadn't expected it.

But, enough about that. She had problems closer to home to worry about. The proposal of the Vampire Rights Act had caused tensions to appear, even in New York, where the humans were mostly accepting of vampires and other minority groups. It was all fine when there was no legislation, but now that they were obligated to be accepting and not discriminate, people started polarizing. A few humans were all for the act, but most others were suspicious. As one of the most prominent vampires in New York, she was part of the AVL's public relations team —that gave her a lot of power, of course, but it also meant a hell of a lot more work and troubles. If she hadn't been a vampire, she'd have been nursing a huge headache right now and drowning herself in coffee.

With a sigh, she flipped open her cell phone and told her chauffeur to be ready for her in thirty minutes. She had yet another press conference to attend. Nan Flanagan was going to hate her for this, but the other vampire couldn't possibly be everywhere at once, and it really wasn't Sybille's fault that she was more photogenic.

Perhaps it was her anger at having been outsmarted by some rich old vamp who happened to call himself a king. Perhaps it was her panic at seeing her cousin being hurt by said old vamp. Whatever the reason, Sookie suddenly felt a strange energy building up inside her. She heard the roar of the wind, felt the warmth of the sun, even though it was night, and smelled the musky scent of the earth right after the first rains. Light shot out of her fingers, throwing the werewolf that had been attacking her backwards and into a wall.

She stared at her hand, looked at the werewolf, and returned her attention to her fingers. What had just happened? There was no reasonable explanation for it. Sure, she'd read that adrenaline could make people do amazing things, such as lift cars and the like, but no one ever mentioned shooting electricity. Instead of being angry, Russell Edgington just laughed. "This is better than I'd thought!" That made Sookie wonder what he'd originally thought he'd get when he raided Alcide's apartment, and then decided that she really didn't care enough at the moment. Bill, the other vampires and the werewolves, barring the one who was having a seizure and frothing at the mouth, were staring at her. The lull in the action lasted only for a moment. One of the vampires holding Bill against the wall suddenly flung himself at her, knocking the telepath to the ground. He picked her up like she was a sack of meat —or blood, in this case— and held her under his arm. She screamed, she beat at him, but it was completely useless. She was small, he was big, she was human, he was vampire.

"Well, gentlemen," said Russell Edgington, who seemed more than satisfied with the fruits of his little hunt. "We have dallied long enough."

Van Helsing drove them to a neat little house in the suburbs. Every other house in the neighbourhood looked the same, with trimmed yellowing hedges, white picket fences, and cute little gates that could only serve as obstacles to Chihuahuas. "What are we doin' here?" Logan demanded as the man turned off the engine of his hummer.

"Your friend is rather low key, I believe," said Van Helsing. Damn him for being so cryptic. The door opened just as the two men got out of the car. In the doorway was a very unthreatening young man, or he seemed young until Logan looked at the man's eyes. They were wise, as if he had seen everything there was to see in the world.

"Gabriel Van Helsing," said the man. Gabriel? That was Van Helsing's first name? Something struck him then. He'd heard that name from someone else before, but he couldn't remember who. For some reason, it was meaningful, although Logan didn't know why. "You're late."

"I got caught up with business, unfortunately, Xavier," said Van Helsing.

"I know," said the man called Xavier. He spoke with a very precise British accent. "And Logan. I'm glad to see that you haven't changed a bit."

"You know me?" said Logan, cutting to the chase.

"Better than you know yourself, at present," said Xavier. "Please, do come in."

The house was tidy. There were shelves filled with books on every topic imaginable. There was an entire section dedicated to theology and the paranormal. There were also books in languages that looked like Greek or Russian to Logan, who had never been a linguist. He felt something about this place. Like...he was visiting a place where he'd been before, but couldn't remember. Had he actually been here before?

The mutant pulled a cigar out of his pocket. Smoking usually helped him to get his thoughts in order. He was about to light the cigar when Xavier stopped him. "I tolerate your smoking most of the time, Logan," he said, "but if you smoke in here, you will indeed be spending the rest of your life under the impression that you are a six year old girl."

The Wolverine dropped his cigar. Suddenly, everything fell into place. Of course Xavier would know him better than he knew himself. This was a man who had been in every corner of his very messed up mind. "Chuck?" he whispered. "How is it possible?"

"You know what they say," said Van Helsing with a knowing smile. "The greatest telepaths never truly die."

Logan's head was reeling. Charles was back from wherever people went after they died. He'd come across the body of a young drug addict who'd overdosed. He'd been declared brain dead, and the medics had been about to take him off life support. The young man's spirit had already been too far away from his body, so Chuck had taken the opportunity to slip inside. The medics had been so surprised.

"It took a while for my new body to recover," said the telepath as he poured both Logan and Van Helsing cups of coffee. "It had been pumped full of drugs, but eventually, I did get better."

"Did they ever find this guy's family?"

"No," said Charles. "He wasn't on the system. I suppose it is for the best. They would be wondering when their drug addict relative got a personality change, and it would be a bother to have to fabricate a story. But come, I didn't ask you here to reminisce and catch up. There are things going on in the supernatural world, things that might just bring about a new world order."

"Like?" said Logan.

"We're not sure," said Van Helsing. "It's a rumour that's been passing through the other dimensions. I'm not sure if most supes in this dimension even know about it."

"There's another dimension?" said Logan. Crap. Why did they have to confuse him like this? He didn't like thinking about normal politics, and here he was, getting involved in cross-dimensional politics. He rubbed his temples.

"There are plenty of other dimensions," said Charles patiently. "Some people used to be able to pass through them quite easily, but they are mostly gone now."

"Wait," said Logan. "I thought you were a man of science. You don't believe in all this shit, do you?"

"Science can only explain so much," said Charles. "We live in a world where vampires open nightclubs and werewolves have construction companies. These are outside the realm of science. They can only be explained by magic. Besides, when you've died once, you realize that science leaves about ten million things unaccounted for, perhaps even more. That is, however, beside the point at present." He turned to Van Helsing. "It might interest you to know that there is a lot of energy focused here in Jackson, even though the nearest energy vortex is in Mexico."

"Huh?" said Logan. What the hell was an energy vortex? Was that like...a power plant? He was pretty sure they had a power plant somewhere near Jackson.

"No, it's not a power plant as we know it," said Charles. "I'm afraid I can't really explain it very well. This is all very new to me." He looked to Van Helsing. The man was sipping his coffee. He'd undone his tie, and in the dim light of Charles' living room, he seemed even more inhuman than he had before. "Gabriel, perhaps you could..."

Van Helsing set down his mug on the scratched wooden coffee table. "Energy vortexes are essentially places where magical energies are particularly concentrated," he said. "What we call ley lines, which are essentially power pylons for magic, converge at these points. Throughout history, people have been drawn to these lines and vortexes, often building great cities and monuments there on those spots. The nearest one is Teotihuacan, in Mexico."

"And this is relevant...how?" said Logan. Really, they should be talking to someone like Bill Compton or Northman, or hell, even Storm would be a better bet. He was just a guy who liked motorbikes, pizza, and beer, and wanted to live a peaceful life. He didn't know shit about 'lay lines' and magic. He wasn't Harry Potter.

"There is an unnatural concentration of magical energies in Jackson," said Charles, "which indicates that there is someone manipulating this energy and gathering it for his own use, and since there are other things going on in Jackson, we thought it might be relevant."

"Maybe it is, but even so, you're talking to the wrong guy here," said Logan.

"No," said Van Helsing. "You need to know this. It's part of who you are."

"No it's not," said Logan. "I'm a mutant, not some supernatural creature."

"Are you so sure?" said Charles. "Your vampire friends have told you that your blood tastes very different, haven't they?"

"One, it's probably my mutation, and two, it's rude to get inside my head without my permission," Logan snapped. He was getting really sick of this whole energy and magic business. "And three, they're not my friends."

"I was using the term loosely," said Charles.

"You'll feel better about all of this once you sleep on it," said Van Helsing. This guy had a lot of explaining to do. How did he know all this? How did he know Charles? The Wolverine was beginning to feel that it wasn't a coincidence that they met him in Lou Pines and that he was after the same thing as they were. Perhaps he was right. He should sleep on it.

No matter how hard she thought, she couldn't think of a way of getting them out. She'd just have to wait for Logan to come and rescue her, again. After Marie had been grabbed by the King of Mississippi, he'd quickly figured out that she couldn't harm vampires with her skin. She'd never regretted not being able to hurt someone so much. However, what he hadn't figured out was that whenever he touched her skin, not only could he sense her emotions, she could also feel his, and from what she had learned, he was a self-gratifying prick who was feeling very satisfied with himself right now, although about what, she couldn't tell. There were other telepaths in the world, and her killer skin wasn't exactly all that great.

She was wedged between Bill and one of those burly vampire thugs right now. Another vampire thug was on the other side of Bill, between him and Sookie. They'd been stuffed into a limo, which had been designed for six people in the back, which meant that it was a very snug fit. It was just as well that they'd left the werewolf in a coma back in Alcide's apartment.

The King of Mississippi sat opposite them, his eyes never even blinking as he surveyed his prisoners. She couldn't see where they were going, as the windows were opaque, although she suspected that they were heading for the royal residence on the outskirts of town. At least, she hoped so, or else Logan would have a very difficult time locating them. She didn't know what the vampire king intended to do with them, and she didn't really care to find out. She just hoped they could get out before it was too late.

She shifted a little in her seat, accidentally brushing Bill's hand with her own un-gloved one. At once, she sensed his desperation, his helplessness, and his almost obsessive love for Sookie. There was also a lot of guilt. He was hiding something from them. He must have felt her emotions, because he suddenly glanced at her. She pretended that she didn't notice anything. It was not safe to let anyone know that she could feel vampire emotions. She doubted that Russell Edgington would appreciate her sensing what he was feeling, for example.

As soon as Logan saw the door, he knew something was wrong. The claws popped out immediately. He sniffed. Someone else had been here, and he recognized the scent of strange vampires as well as those V-wolves. Behind him, Van Helsing swore. It seemed that he hadn't expected this either.

The apartment was an absolute mess. Vases had been broken, the flat screen television had a hole in it, and there was the dead body of a biker lying on the floor with foam coming out of his mouth. "Rogue!" he called. His heart rate sped up. "Sookie!" There was no answer. He heard a groan. Alcide. The werewolf was lying amongst a mess of splinters and glass shards. He'd probably hit his head quite hard against something.

"What happened?" Logan demanded of him.

"The vampire came," the werewolf said, after a few attempts. "He took them. I tried to stop them, but we were outnumbered."

"Which vampire?" demanded Van Helsing. "Edgington?"

"Yeah," said Alcide. He winced as he touched his head. "That other vamp, Compton, he tried to warn us, but it was too late." Logan helped Alcide to sit up. "We have to go after them."

"We will," said Van Helsing, "but not until the morning."

"What?" said Logan. "I ain't waitin' that long! Who knows what those vamps could do in an hour, or even a quarter of one?"

"They're vampires," said Van Helsing. "You think I don't want to rescue the telepath and your young charge? The point is, vampires are much easier to deal with during the day, and in case you haven't noticed, we're completely outnumbered. This is the best way."

"Look," said Logan. "If you're scared, fine. You don't have to come. But I'm goin' right now, night, day, or otherwise."

"He's right, you know," said Alcide. "I know you're worried, and I'm worried too, but it'll do them no good if we get ourselves ripped to shreds by vampires. It would be better to wait until day."

"I can't just sit here and twiddle my thumbs!" said Logan.

"You don't have to," said Van Helsing. "Call your associates. The more people we have, the better."

The limo stopped and Marie was dragged out of the limo by one of the burly vampires. She struggled against him, and the werewolf life force she'd just absorbed, combined with Eric's blood, made her a lot stronger than normal. Still, the vampire was huge and she just wasn't strong enough to free herself. Of course, the futility of it didn't stop her from trying. Logan had taught his students to never back down, and she wanted to make him proud.

Russell Edgington's royal residence looked like a cross between the White House, Captain Von Trapp's home in The Sound of Music, and a Roman temple. Marie suddenly fought the ridiculous urge to laugh at the image of the King of Mississippi singing 'Edelweiss' and playing the guitar, whilst dressed in a toga. Heck, maybe Edgington had worn a toga in his human life. The double doors opened, and it took a while for her eyes to adjust to the bright light. Vampires didn't need a lot of light to see, but apparently, they enjoyed wasting electricity because it was the only way they could make up for their night time existence. Well, some vampires, like Pam, had no problem with it, but Russell Edgington obviously missed being able to walk in the sunlight, because his foyer was lit with a blazing golden chandelier that was designed to resemble the sun, if only a little.

Two marble staircases on either side of the foyer led to the open second level. The rails were painted white. Actually, everything in the house seemed to be beige or white, with the occasional gold accent. If she had been in the mood, Marie would have taken the time to admire the decor, because whoever decorated this place certainly deserved an award, but at the moment, she just wanted out.

When the doors first opened, it had seemed that the foyer was empty, save for a few security guards, but upon hearing the commotion, vampires began to emerge from every doorway. Marie's breath caught in her throat when she saw Eric. He couldn't help them now, even if he wanted to. He was in enemy territory, just as they were, and he wasn't stupid enough to try anything when he was alone in enemy territory and completely outnumbered. Besides, his primary concern wasn't his humans. Being a vampire, he probably had vamp business to worry about. Humans, or mutants, were dispensable.

"My darling," said one of the vampires as he approached the King of Mississippi —he would have been cute if he hadn't been the enemy. "What exactly have you brought back?" The vampire's dark hair had been slicked back with hair gel, and he was wearing a perfectly cut tuxedo. Long lashes framed his dark eyes.

"Talbot," said the king. He still hadn't released the telepath, and no matter how much Sookie struggled, she could not free herself, not that it was entirely unexpected. Vampires were very strong, after all. "Miss Stackhouse and her companion—" He gave a slight nod in Marie's direction. "Are our guests from now on."

"Oh, I will make sure they are provided for," said the vampire called Talbot as he sauntered very gracefully over to the telepath, looking her up and down as if he were examining an antique vase. "That dress must go. It clashes with the decor."

"I'll leave them in your very capable hands, my dear," said Edgington, stroking Talbot affectionately on the cheek. It seemed so gentle and intimate that it was hard to equate this vampire with the vampire who'd burst into Alcide's apartment and just snatched them. Then again, vampires were strange and were often walking contradictions. She'd learned that much.

In the periphery of her vision, she saw Bill being shoved to the marble floor by his vampire guard. He landed near the wooden railing of one of the grand staircases. Before anyone knew it, the vampire had broken off a piece of the railing and driven the sharp end of the piece of wood into the chest of his guard. As the tip of his makeshift stake emerged from the guard's back, the vampire began to disintegrate, turning into mucous-like blood before their very eyes. Marie had witnessed death before, but to see it up close like this, made her want to puke. This was not like seeing someone get stabbed or shot in the head or...uh...crushed by a man with an adamantium skeleton. Somehow, she managed not to scream or lose her dinner as she felt some of the cool droplets hitting her face and her tightly closed eyes. That was quite some achievement.

As the unfortunate vampire guard broke down into a vamp-flavoured slushie, Bill lunged at Russell Edgington, only to find himself suspended in midair, unable to move. "I had expected that you would do something stupid, Mr. Compton," said Edgington. "But not that stupid."

The rumours were right. Russell Edgington was an old practitioner of the craft. Eric had thought that they had all died, that no vampire could manipulate those energies, but apparently, he'd been wrong. This was going to be a lot more complicated than he'd thought. A three thousand year old vampire was bad enough. A three thousand year old vampire who was also a necromancer or warlock or whatever the hell Edgington was labelled was even worse. Eric was a renowned warrior and strategist, but neither brute strength nor cunning was enough to deal with someone who could manipulate paranormal energies to suit their needs. It was just as well that Compton's stupidity had exposed the truth about Russell Edgington, or else the Viking might have made a very wrong move. He had to thank Compton for that.

Edgington flicked his hand, as if he were swatting flea. Compton, who'd still been suspended in midair, flew backwards and crashed into the stucco wall. Sookie screamed. Plaster cracked and bits of it fell off as Compton dropped to the floor in a heap, undoubtedly with very many broken bones. He would heal, of course, but Eric doubted that he would live long enough to heal. "Stupidity is so very often mistaken for courage," said Edgington, shaking his head. He tsked. "You really should have known better, William. Then again, you do have Lorena for a maker. No doubt some of her traits were passed down to you." He turned to one of the other guards at the door. They had stood still the entire time, as if they were part of Talbot's decor, although the black of their uniforms probably clashed with what the effeminate Greek had had in mind. Eric didn't really think much of most southern Europeans. It was an age old prejudice, a leftover from his human life. "Take Mr. Compton to the slave quarters," Edgington said, "and summon his maker. I want Lorena to put him down."

Logan felt something strange as they neared Russell Edgington's residence. It started off as a minor hum in his bones, barely noticeable, but as he caught sight of the building, he felt as if there was electricity running through his body, and it wasn't pleasant. He twisted his head to glance back to see if any of the others had noticed it. He'd been squashed into Van Helsing's hummer, along with Sabretooth, Alcide, Juggernaut, Tin Man and Gambit, as well as all of Van Helsing's monster-busting equipment. It was a tight fit. None of them were small men, and Van Helsing had a lot of stuff. Actually, he'd been lucky to get the passenger seat. The others had to make do with whatever room there was at the back.

None of the others seemed to be reacting to the weird electrical pulses, even though it was becoming a loud buzz in Logan's head. Wait...it wasn't a buzz. It was a chorus of voices, all speaking in strange languages and he recognized none of them. He tried to block the sound. It didn't work. He stuck a finger in his ear. Nope, it had nothing to do with his ears. Van Helsing must have noticed his discomfort in the rear view mirror, because he reached over and placed a hand on Logan's shoulder for a brief moment.

Silence. And then there was just one voice, speaking very clearly in his head. 'You'll learn to control it soon,' it said. 'It's in your blood.'

"What the hell is in my blood?" Logan demanded out loud. All eyes turned to him. Great. Now they all thought he was mad, not that he cared about what they thought. He was wondering if he was actually going mad.

"We can't get in." Those were the words Charles greeted them with when they finally arrived outside the royal residence. No introductions were given. None were needed. Magneto, Mystique, Storm; they all knew who he was the minute they came into his presence, and the other mutants quickly caught on. There would be a lot of explanations later, but for now, they were more interested in breaking and entering a vampire palace.

"Wards," said Van Helsing. "I should have known." He held out a hand, as if running it up and down and invisible wall. Logan copied him and found that there was an invisible wall. As soon as he touched that wall, the voices started up again, louder than before. "No one can get in or out at this point. The vampires don't want any movement whilst they're asleep, lest any threats get in."

"And they're right," growled Logan, "because I'm more than ready to stake each and every one of them."

"Count me in," said Sabretooth eagerly. He was always ready to kill something.

Juggernaut snorted. "Nothing can stop me," he said, and before anyone could stop him, he started running towards the invisible barrier, only to be propelled backwards when he actually hit it.

"I think something just did, bub," said Logan. It wasn't a smart thing to say, but he was pissed off, and all that pent up aggression had to go somewhere, right? It was lucky that Charles was there to get inside Juggernaut's head and control him. Otherwise, they would have been in for a very long fight, and they hadn't even seen or heard a vampire yet.

A/N: I hope no one hates me for making Russell more powerful. *Ducks stakes and garlic.* Now, will Logan ever figure out who Van Helsing is, or will he have to be told?