Destiny's Pawn - Part Two

Destiny's Pawn

Part 2/7

DISCLAIMER: The characters in this story mostly belong to Marvel. No infringement intended, blah,blah,blah. Please, please, please do not reproduce this story in part or in whole anywhere without at least asking me first! Thank you... email me at Sarah.Watkins@onyx.net

Thank you. Now back to our regular programme.

* * *

They are known collectively as the Pure Breed.

It has been years since they have allowed those of their kind to go out amongst the Tainted, as they refer to the rest of humankind. They have been waiting, biding their time.

Their time is now.

And they are amongst us.

* * *

Remy LeBeau, the mutant known to his friends and, indeed, his enemies (of which there are a considerable number) as Gambit, is currently finding out rather more about the Pure Breed than he had wanted to know – which is to say, he hadn't wanted to know anything about them. He came away to the mountains of Slovakia for a vacation and ended up being attacked by three rather strange men, all of whom shared his own peculiarity of glowing red-on-black eyes. This has, rather understandably, left him fairly irritated and annoyed.

* * *

Are you tryin' t' tell me dat dey were... Remy bit back the word. He'd learned to accept many strange things in his life, and had, indeed, had his own run-ins with vampires.

said the man sat opposite him. The owner of the ski lodge where Remy was staying. He had done a pretty convincing job of pretending to speak no English when the thief had been checking in - but he spoke fluent English now. Convenient? Remy intended to find out the truth.

Here." The man pushed a bottle of borovicka and a spirit glass across the table to him. Drink this. It will help you to relax a little.

An' if I don' want t'relax? Despite himself, Remy was unnerved by this turn of events. What if I'd prefer you t'tell me zac'ly who dese Pure Breed' are? An' why dey might be int'rested in me?

The innkeeper looked at Remy somewhat suspiciously. The American had his eyes covered with shades, but he hadn't replaced them before the Slovakian had got a good look at the mutant's eyes. I suggest you look in a mirror. Your eyes and their eyes...the same. He shrugged and downed his drink, pouring himself another. I believe you are not one of them because the light did not bother you."

If dey were vampires...den dat light...

Ultraviolet, yes. The innkeeper held up the torch he had used to alert the three men to his presence. Does little damage, but makes them, how you say...discomfort?

Uncomfortable. Oui, I see. So you jus' happened t'have one of dese lights lyin' around. Remy poured himself a glass of borovicka, took a sip and grimaced a little.

You want t'try tellin' me everyt'in' you know?

* * *

INTERLUDE 1
Banská Bystrica - Slovakia

"You failed me.

The three men bow their heads before their leader, who moves with a sinuous grace, floating, almost, towards the heavily curtained window. He stares out at the snow-dusted darkness and shakes his head. The man known to his own family as Le Diable Blanc. The White Devil. Is here. In my grasp again.

There is a pause of great length, filled with unspoken words of apology, of retribution, of promises to do better next time if only given the chance.

There are no second chances. This is a lesson that the Pure Breed learn early. If they don't learn it, they discover it too late.

For these three men, it is too late.

END INTERLUDE

* * *

INTERLUDE 2
New Orleans, Louisiana

I am getting old.

The knowledge is nothing new to Tante Mattie, but it never fails to rise her to anger at her own mortality. She will not be around forever to advise the Guilds, and now is not a good time for the truth behind Remy LeBeau to surface. She is furious with herself, with Jean-Luc, and particularly with him.

The Antiquary.

He has dragged her into this personal crusade of his against her wishes, and she is anything but happy about it. She is too old to fight Remy's battles now – and besides – he would never forgive her if he found out.

I am getting old.

END INTERLUDE

* * *

Remy had gone up to the tiny room that he had paid for and lay on the narrow bed, staring into space. According to his host, these so-called Pure Breed were a faction of vampires who apparently considered themselves too good to mingle even with those of their own kind. He hated vampires. The undead were always difficult. Remy preferred the completely dead. They didn't fight back.

But the whole deal about the eyes...there had to be something there. As a child, as a young man, and now as an adult, Remy stared at those eyes in his reflection every day and wondered why they were the way they were. Nobody he'd ever met had eyes like his. Sure, Kurt's were yellow, and Stormy took on a glassy expression from time to time – but red on black? The handsome Cajun had never let those eyes detract from his natural allure and charm, but that didn't stop him being self-conscious about them.

He got to his feet and wandered to the mirror, staring at the man he thought he knew. There it was. Same old reflection. Same old finely chiseled, delicate features, strong jaw, unruly mop of auburn tinted hair and yes...red on black eyes. A memory of those three pairs of eyes, unblinking in the darkness, fixed on him with something akin to hunger played across his short-term memory and he shuddered. Was he somehow related to this Pure Breed?

Coincidence. If he was a vampire, why hadn't he crumbled to dust before now? He recalled his one and only meeting with Blade to mind. Day Walkers' he had called them. Vampires who could exist in sunlight.

No. He wasn't a vampire. He didn't have the right...temperament. Besides, he'd always liked his steaks well done.

A slight tap at the window caused him to sit bolt upright, hands in his pockets instantly. Yet when he crossed the room to check out the sound, there was nothing there.

Out of nowhere, he suddenly decided that sleep would be an extremely good idea. Shaking himself, he wondered where that thought had come from. But the more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed. With a large yawn, the Cajun climbed into bed, still fully clothed and closed his eyes.The vampires could wait another day.

On the tiny one-man balcony, a single figure stood, trying to peer in through the crack in the curtains. Down below, a second figure hissed up. Did it work? Is he sleeping?

Ja, he's fast asleep. Both voices had very definite female timbres, silky, sultry and heavily accented. The moon came out from behind the cloud that had temporarily muffled it and glinted off silvery-gold hair. When have we ever failed to get him to do what we want? The first figure jumped from the balcony and drifted gently to the ground to stand next to her twin sister. We have been suggesting things to him for months, now. Telling him to sleep was as easy as getting him to come here in the first place, Katarina.

Seems a waste to me, muttered Katarina. He's such a handsome man. Just remind me again, Elenora. Why is it that we work for the Pure Breed and not with people like Remy LeBeau?

Because, sister, if we worked with men like Remy LeBeau, we would never get anything done. We will come back to see him tomorrow.

The young women giggled together and left, disappearing into the night.

And Remy LeBeau dreamed of blonde-haired Germanic beauties.

* * *

INTERLUDE 3
New Orleans, Louisiana

It is m'belief dat Remy be at great risk, Jean Luc. Th' Antiquary has moved th' game pieces out of m'control now. said Tante Mattie, watching the boy's father carefully. Jean Luc LeBeau twisted the hem of his shirt uncomfortably.

Dis all my fault, he said, miserably. I reneged on my side of th' deal, an' now th' Antiquary seeks recompense.

We may yet be able t'bargain, she said. Remember dat we have somet'in' dat th' Antiquary wants but does not have.

Jean Luc stared at her. And dat is...? he prompted into the silent void between them.

We have Remy's loyalty and trust. It would take more'n I could tell you t'change dat boy over t'...THEIR side.

I hope you're right, Mattie, said Remy's father, staring into the garden. Do we have any idea where th' boy is right now?

His friends say he took himself a li'l vacation, she replied, moving to stand beside him. I don' know zac'ly where a boy like Remy would go t'be alone, but I'm pretty sure we ain't gon' track him down in Disneyland.

Get as many of our people on it as you c'n, he said, firmly. We hafta find Remy...before the Pure Breed do.

END INTERLUDE

* * *

His sleep was rudely disturbed by a rather insolent beam of winter sunlight that forced its way through the crack in the curtains and onto the back of his retina. He mumbled something incomprehensible and turned over to face the wall, effectively blocking out the sun.

M'sieur LeBeau? The knock at the door spelled the end to any hopes that Remy may have had of getting additional rest. He rolled back over again, noting with some mild irritation that he was still fully dressed and mumbled a reply. The voice from the other side of the door went on. There are two young ladies at the front desk who say they're friends of yours? The question in the tone of voice was unmistakable and Remy sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Now who would have tracked him down to Slovakia? A ridiculous hope welled up in him that it might be Rogue and...well, someone else. She'd seen sense at last, he thought as he acknowledged the call and swung his legs out of the bed.

Some five minutes later, he was walking downstairs with an unprecedented spring in his step, to be greeted by two statuesque blondes, one wearing dark glasses, the other with her long, lustrous curls piled up on the top of her head. Despite the surface differences, Remy could instantly spot the near identical nature of their relationship and he raised one eyebrow speculatively.

Remy LeBeau, said the girl with the dark glasses in a voice that made Remy's knees quiver unintentionally. My sister and I have been trying to get the opportunity to speak with you for many months now. Heavy accent – German, maybe Austrian, Remy thought. But man...WHAT a voice. My name, she went on, a slightly amused edge to her tone, is Katarina Bruckner. And this is my sister, Elenora.

Mam'selle's, je suis enchanté, said Remy, in his normal charming manner, kissing the hands of first one then the other. I am truly honoured by your presence, but I gotta confess t'bein' somewhat...baffled.

Katarina lowered her glasses and looked at him intently. You think that taking us to a quiet place to talk would be a good idea? That is a very good suggestion.

Now dat is most impressive, he said, smiling at her. I was jus' t'inkin' dat very same t'ing.

What a coincidence, trilled Elenora, clearly the brighter and sunnier of the two. Remy led the girls into the dining room, now deserted apart from one other patron who sat in the far corner, apparently intent on his newspaper.

Sitting down, Remy looked from one to the other. An' dis is about...what?

We are here to...reclaim something from you, Monsieur LeBeau, said Elenora.

Remy laughed humourlessly. Petite, you got th' wrong man. Remy got NO idea what you talkin'

Of course you do, Remy, she said, beaming a smile of such radiance at him, that he was fairly certain his skin must have tanned. We're talking about something that's very dear to you, that you most certainly won't just give up without one of those fights' that you're justly famous for.

Something in the girl's tone made Remy's flesh creep. I t'ink maybe you should tell me jus' who you two are, he said. An' I should prob'ly let you know dat I'm a mutant. He lowered his own dark glasses and treated them to a baleful red-eyed stare. Which had absolutely no effect. In fact, Elenora leaned forward and looked intently into his eyes.

Such very pretty eyes, she murmured. Ah, Katarina, will it be necessary to put those eyes out of his head? Would be such a shame.

Elenora, be still, said the other girl. Monsieur LeBeau, your mutation comes as no surprise to us. Elenora and I are twins. And we are also mutants. Our masters call us Yin and Yang. There. We are strangers no longer.

I don' understand what it is you want from me.

Oh, come now, Mr LeBeau, Elenora and I have been following your progress for many weeks now, and we know that you are no fool.

Followin' me f'r...no, dat ain't right. Comin' here was a spontaneous decision.

You really believe that? said Elenora sweetly. It was me who put that idea into your head.

Remy's goosebumps got goosebumps.

she went on, gaily. Katarina and I are telepaths, of a sort. We have the power of suggestion.

Suggestion. Either she, or I suggest you do something and...you usually do. If we were to combine that power, Monsieur LeBeau... Elenora's sweet smile became menacing. You would almost certainly be powerless to resist. If we decided we wanted, for example, you to jump from a cliff...you would. And you would know, Monsieur, as you plummeted to your demise, that you hadn't really wanted to do that at all. How sad. She pouted and shook her head sadly.

Remy swallowed. This was not going well. He did not wish to cause a scene. There was the possibility that the two women were bluffing – but he was not so stupid as to find out the hard way.

So tell me, he said, conversationally, Jus' what dis precious' t'ing dat I have dat you want so badly is?

Oh, Remy! said Katarina, pouting as prettily as her sister. And you didn't guess it!

She leaned forward, and her voice became guttural and filled with the promise of a thousand poison-tipped daggers.

We want your soul.

[END of PART 2!]

In part 3 of Destiny's Pawn', we find out more about the history that links Remy LeBeau to the Antiquary. Yin and Yang begin to demonstrate the truly awesome nature of their mutual powers, and naturally, the Pure Breed will put in an appearance.

(c) S Watkins, 2000