Here is the next chapter - but if you don't like cliff hangers you shouldn't try reading this until Saturday. You have been warned.
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Chapter 36
"Non, chère," Gambit was saying in a slightly exasperated voice. "Y' ain' goin' anywhere near dose canals."
"Pourquoi pas?" demanded the small girl, her auburn ponytail bouncing in time to her steps to keep up with her father. "Ah ain' gon' fall in!"
"Too close ta 'Ssassin territory. Answer's still no."
The child set her jaw and grabbed her father's hand in both of hers. "Ah won' talk ta none o' 'em. An' if Ah see even one Ah come straight home, je te promise."
The Thief Prince rolled his unnerving eyes. "Petite, I got da feelin' dat wit' yo' luck y' end up runnin' inta da 'Ssassin Prince hisself."
She shrugged. "But he don' know what Ah look lahke!"
"Don' know dat, Noelle. Could be, someone showed 'im you same way I show y' him."
Their conversation continued on this vein for several more minutes until the man swooped down, grabbed his daughter and lifted her over his head. "D'accord, d'accord, petite. Y' c'n go, but one sight o' 'Ssassins an' y' come straight home, comprends?"
She didn't seem at all frightened at being held over six feet from the ground, she merely looked her father in the eye and nodded solemnly. "Je te promise."
And with that, Vincent watched as the miniature Thief was set loose. She leapt up the porch steps to hug a taller, older version of her sister, sang "A bientôt, Mama!" and ran out of her yard.
The scene fast-forwarded around them and Vincent found himself standing slowly as the little girl darted through the alleys of New Orleans, went into a voodoo shop that was little more than a hole in the wall and came out with an orange and a pocketknife to peel it with. She sat on a curb in front of an open air butcher store, obviously unbothered by the plucked chickens and the pickled frog legs, and ate the whole fruit. Then she was off again, heading to a part of town Vincent was very familiar with.
The canals.
She spent a while running along the edges, peering down into the wood choked waterways or laying flat on her stomach to try and touch the rushing water.
Abruptly the scene slowed and Vincent could hear shouting and jeering.
The little girl rose to her feet, obviously having heard it as well. She ran to see what it was.
Vincent winced as he saw a small, skinny little boy with a shock of dark blond hair come tearing along the side of another canal, several feet and one channel of water away. Mini-Vincent turned to look at the gang of preteen Thieves practically breathing down his neck and spun back around to try and run even faster. His desperation – which was quite obvious on his face – managed to help him gain several feet in his lead on his tormentors.
Another glance behind him and he lost his balance, crashing down into the water below.
Somewhere to his right Vincent heard someone hiss curses under their breath.
The Thieves immediately gathered around the spot where his younger self had fallen down and laughed, pointing as the drowning boy resurfaced and scrambled to try and get back up on dry land. Back with the little girl, Vincent saw her eyes dart to the boy in the canal then back to the Thieves. Ducking behind a mound of splintered crates, she cupped her hands around her mouth, screamed "Assassins!" and the Thieves scattered.
With the grace and strength of a gazelle, the little girl leapt across the canal, lay flat on her stomach besides it and reached both arms down to snatch at the boy.
And so it was that Noelle LeBeau, daughter of the Prince of Thieves, met Vincent Boudreaux, Prince of Assassins, and took him to her house.
It wasn't 'til the visions around the three had vanished did Vincent spin around and stare at the Thief girl. She had stood up at some point and didn't seem the slightest bit surprised at what they had seen.
"Dat was you?" he gasped.
She left off running her fingers through her hair, getting all of the dirt out of it, to raise her eyebrows at him. "Mais oui, don' tell moi y' still don' recognize meh."
He swung his gaze from the Thief to Bridget. "Y' lyin'. Bot' o' y' are lyin'!"
Bridget stared at him calmly. "I cannot lie in my visions, Vincent Boudreaux."
"Dat's a load crap!" he started backing away. He should just kill them both for lying to him… yeah, he should do that now.
Now!
Why was he still backing up?
The Thief girl smiled in that way that so frustrated him – because he hadn't been able to connect it to the little girl's – and cocked her head in the same way she had when she was a girl. "Bête fil."
"Don' call me dat!"
He was not noticing how she still had the same high cheekbones or the same wavy auburn hair. He most certainly didn't see the similar lines of the chin and mouth.
And he sure as hell didn't see the crack – indistinguishable – mirror-like – identical resemble she bore to the woman that he was constantly seeing in his dreams. He did not see it.
Wasn't there. Nope.
"Well, Vincent Boudreaux," Bridget began in her usual way. "I cannot force you to believe what I am saying. I will leave you with this: The dragon held down among the vipers cannot fly until he unburdens himself of the vipers' venom."
He couldn't help but ask. "An' what happens when da dragon gets rid o' da venom?"
Cool blue eyes glittered. "He finds his wings and flies with the raptor. And Noelle? Morphine works just as well when you drink it." With those words, the Swiss girl glided away.
"Okay, well, dat last part didn't make no sense at all."
At the Thief girl's words, he spun to face her, teeth bared. "I don' believe you – you ain' her. You cain' be!"
"Den how Ah got dis necklace?" She laid a hand on it.
His head hurt, but he shook it wildly anyway. "Yo' a t'ief. Y'all steal – even from bodies."
The girl seemed to swell in anger. "Stealin' from a body is da lowest any T'ief can sink to – y' get banished o' disgraced at da vereh least."
"An' we all know how much yo' kind are afraid o' gettin' banished," he snarled back, the thought of her father openly flouting his banishment and disgrace by showing his face in New Orleans less than five years after the bastard had killed his uncle.
She was drawing herself up so much she looked taller than her five feet eight inches, but he was too upset to care. "One o' yo' relations took dat cross from dat girl after she got cut down –"
"No dey didn'. If y'd come back ta Saint Louis da day afteh dat y'd have found meh waitin' fo' y'." She tore the chain and cross off her neck and threw it at him. "Take da damn t'ing. S'yo's anyway an' Ah neveh wan'ed ta beh paid fo' doin' rahght."
Giving him a look that would have curdled his mother's blood in her veins, the Thief girl spun on her boot heel and walked away. And Vincent was left standing there feeling like he had been punched in the chest.
It took him several minutes to reach down and pick up the cross she had discarded. Yup, this was it.
Well, mate, said an inner voice that sounded very much like James, you've really managed to screw it up now!
What the hell had he screwed up?
The attempted assassination or…
His gaze wandered to the cross in his fist.
Charles walked hand in hand with Alana, glancing around to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. They had just passed the Ferris wheel when Alana's phone started to ring.
Pulling it from her purse, she answered with her usual "This is Alana". A loud voice on the other end of the line made her stop dead.
"Charlie," she said, angling her mouth away from the mouthpiece. "There's a situation – we've got to call the others."
"Why?" What had happened? "What's going on?"
"The Marauders broke out of SHIELD. We need to get back to the Institute immediately – somehow Bolivar Trask found out and he's out for blood."
"Let me guess, he thinks we're behind it."
"Bingo."
"Give me a moment." The young telepath spread his mind out and felt around.
There was James, Monica, Alexei and Julia…
Just around the corner was Jayden…
Sarah was watching the carnival games…
Sofya and Lucien were among those watching the crowd at the concert…
Denzel in a corner with his friends…
Logan, Laura, and Bishop scouting the entrance…
His father and his uncle along with Iceman watched the food booths…
And two almost invisible presences that could have been Noelle and Vincent…
Everyone! We have a problem – meet at the entrance!
The first sign Noelle got that something was wrong as she was hurrying to meet up with the others was a spike of terror, confusion and disbelief that was arising from her right.
Lashing out with her empathy, the young woman threw out feelings of agonizing boredom and deathly exhaustion. Almost instantly, those around her began making their way very quickly towards the exits, complaining about being tired or how lame the whole thing had turned out to be.
Noelle meanwhile was taking cover behind a cotton candy booth so she could take off into the air with minimal attention. She had to fight to ignore the nakedness stemming from the empty spot around her neck.
Imbécile, she thought darkly, taking off.
Then suddenly every hint of Vincent in her head was gone as she found herself staring into the face of a Sentinel.
"Merde."
"Mutant detected. Eliminate."
"Double merde."
Twisting her body, she rocketed out of the way as the robot aimed a huge red beam at her.
As soon as the crimson light illuminated the night sky the whole of the mass of humanity below her shrieked and started sprinting for the exits.
Which left Kestrel with the task of dealing with one… two… three… four… seven… twelve… and one more… thirteen Sentinels while most of her classmates ran around beneath her.
Joy.
And of course she had nothing to scratch herself with to draw blood which meant bruising herself.
More joy.
"Noelle?!"
"Bouge-toi maintenant!"
She barely had time to get out of the way before her brother's sound blast came screaming in to knock the huge machine off its feet. This put her directly in the path of another red laser.
Okay. Diversionary tactics.
With a grace and dexterity that would make a hummingbird stop and take notice, she weaved herself through the maze of Sentinels – more of which were arriving from every direction.
Meanwhile, the X-Men had arrived. She could hear the terrible screech of adamantium claws slicing through steel, the crackling of flame, booms of the sound barrier breaking, and the other sounds associated with mutants fighting off an invasion of Sentinels.
A huge arm brushed past her and she dropped from the sky like a diving bird.
"Logan! Need yo' claws!"
There was another metal arm barreling straight towards her but Denzel was between them – he would stop it.
It was getting closer…
Closer…
Why wasn't he…?
Harsh hatred and vindictiveness spread over her skin.
He wasn't going to stop it.
Kestrel managed to twist in midair to put her right ribs closer to the incoming arm – protect her heart…
Her entire consciousness whited out and she was abruptly aware of everyone's emotions.
And then she was on the ground.
She couldn't feel her body – though the right side of it seemed rather crumpled in and she couldn't catch her breath. But she could feel the adrenaline rushing through her veins, and she could feel the hum of her muscles. Her body was trembling, ready to get into the air and pulverize whatever it was that was threatening her.
So she did.
Sniper stood in the shadows of one of the booths, staring up at the Sentinels and waiting for a good spot to throw the small explosives in his pocket. He wasn't much into explosives – he preferred to do things with bullets, knives or skin.
One of the Sentinels stumbled backwards as a force bulled into its chest, destroying the laser plate and exposing the delicate workings inside.
"Merci, T'ief boy," he muttered even as he took careful aim.
Just as he let the little bomb fly through the air, its target firmly specified, one of the Sentinels suddenly lunged forward, swinging a massive arm at a lithe figure darting through the air.
Bang
The targeted Sentinel reeled back once again as an explosion blasted its torso apart. It fell and took one of its fellows – not fast enough to get out of the way – with it.
There was no time for him to celebrate his victory as something smashed into the ground barely fifteen feet away and he had about five seconds to stare at the Thief girl lying on her left side. He noticed that there was not a scratch on her, but there was something strange about her side…
It looked almost… crumpled.
A strange and unfamiliar feeling of anger, disbelief and a terrible sense of purpose shot through him.
But there was no time for anymore observation before she was suddenly on her feet and shooting into the sky like a jet fighter.
"Knife! Get your ass over here and help!"
And thus began the most insane fight he had ever suffered through. Ice, fire, laser beams, sound waves, little knives of diamond, and teenaged Thief girls were flying every which way through the air. Sniper just concentrated on throwing his explosives and not hitting his teammates.
Sprinting through the carnage, he took cover behind a demolished Sentinel chest only to find the Thief boy crouched behind in as well.
"Dis ain' goin' well," Backlash commented blandly.
Seeing as fighting for your life against giant robots sort of made old family quarrels seem rather meaningless right now, Sniper answered him as easily as if they had been friends their entire lives. "Non, not at all."
The Thief cocked his head at him lazily. "Wan' coveh meh while Ah trah somet'in' suicidal?"
"Sound fun. Go fo' it."
Nodding at each other with a look that only other guys could understand, Backlash left his hiding place with a yell that he managed to magnify enough to take a Sentinel's head off. Meanwhile, Sniper threw bombs over the charging Thief's head with reckless abandon.
He was fighting side by side with a Thief. His mother was having urges to drown herself in the bayou and she didn't know why.
Backlash had to throw himself on the ground to avoid being pulverized by a piece of the Ferris wheel. The Thief boy glanced back at Sniper and suddenly shouted out, "Get down!"
What?
Oh, was his only thought as a huge fist descended upon him with what should have been a deafening crash but what somehow seemed quite muffled.
When his head finally cleared, he was lying in a small crater with a massive headache. Reaching up to ensure his head was still on, he found that he had a softball sized wound in his head – he could feel something wet and warm and soft under something very hard and round.
Oh God, he was touching his brain.
He wrenched his hand away, then struggled to stand up.
Shouldn't he be dead?
This healing thing was crazy – it had to be equal to Wolverine's – or hell, even that freak Deadpool!
"Vincent! Watch out!"
A dome of shining diamond grew over his head and he was abruptly aware of Bijou standing beside him, eyes wide and horrified. A huge fist descended on the shield and bounced off neatly.
"Vincent…" the Chicago bred girl whispered. "Your head!"
"It healin'?"
The girl looked as though she might faint. "Y-yeah…"
"Good, go 'head an' let da shield down. We got' get out dere!"
"But-"
"NOW!"
The shield shattered around them and Sniper wasted no time in charging out. He was going to finish what he had started and then he was going to find the Thief girl and force her to tell him the truth.
Crash
Bang
Boom
An explosion that looked the size of a small atomic bomb threw everyone backwards as a particularly big Sentinel blew into a thousand pieces. Sniper hit something that felt suspiciously like a crisscrossing of metal bars and lay haphazardly in a soft pile of cheap plush toys.
He had fallen into one of the game booths – fallen through the roof.
Sniper tried to move and was rewarded with a burst of pain so sharp that he froze. Judging by the horrific way his back had tried to go in opposite directions – he'd have to guess that his spine was snapped.
So he lay there gritting his teeth as he felt the muscles, bones, and assorted other body parts knit back together. The sound of the Sentinels being torn apart was counterpointed nicely with sound booms, explosions and cracks that made the ground shake.
After about five minutes, he noticed the din growing quieter and he was finally able to sit upright. Rolling from the booth, he stole a look up towards the battle. Of the twenty plus Sentinels that had arrived there were only three left – one of which had a gimpy leg.
Nodding sharply to himself, Sniper made his way through the maze of carnival rides and stalls (what was left of them) to loop around and get behind the crippled robot. One explosive and that thing would be missing its leg.
Dodging through the shadows, he tripped on something that made a sound somewhere between a gasp and scream. Sniper twisted his body so fast, his skeleton nearly ripped out of his skin.
A curse tore itself from his lips.
A body.
He had run straight into a body.
But not just a body – it had made a sound so it must still be alive.
Sniper crawled to its side and cursed even harder.
It wasn't just anybody – it was the Thief girl. She was lying very still on the ground, except for a fierce trembling, eyes closed. He backed up, got to his feet and started to walk away.
She was only a Thief and –
"Are y'okay?... Venez, I'll take t'mah house. Mama an' Tante'll know what ta do."
The thought of a delicate face surrounded by thick auburn waves and big grey-green eyes stopped him dead in his tracks. Rocking back and forth on his heels, the young Assassin struggled with his feelings, training, and memories. What made everything worse was the little voice that had come into his head right around the time Sofya had come to the Institute, the voice that hissed when he snapped and fought with the Thieves and purred when he ate their food and fought beside them. He still couldn't understand what the stupid thing was saying, but it was hissing loudly at him.
Fuck.
His mother was going to crucify him.
What do you think? How should Denzel die? I know you're all seriously pissed at him so tell me now!
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Non, chère – "No, dear/darling"
Pourquoi pas?– "Why not?"
Je te promise – "I promise (you)"
Comprends – "You understand?"
Mais oui– "Of course"
Bête fil – "Stupid boy"
Double merde – "Double shit"
Bouge-toi maintenant!– "Move now!"