*****  Disclaimer in Part One *******   

Author's Notes:  I'm sorry for the lack of Logan and Scott in this story so far.  But, the first few chapters needed to focus on Marie to illustrate her life and her contemplations.  There will be an appearance of Logan in the story soon, and eventually he will be drawn into the main part of the story.

            Second:  I'm rather disappointed that nobody guessed they were vampires!  Lol.  I gave three different clues: 

PavmireVampire, they rhyme too ; )  The title is the same as an X-Files eppy that dealt with vampires. I described Steffon as being really pale, even for a dead white guy. 

Ah well, they were vague clues at best I admit.  Anyway, thank you kindly to everybody who has stuck by this story!

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*Begins where chapter 3 ends* 

            Steffon and Angie exchanged slow smiles; everything had indeed come to pass as they had hoped.  They had Rogue in their grasp, ready to become one of them.  Steffon figured she had been given ample time to think things over and without hesitating, he advanced upon her.  Within a second he was across the room and holding her ungloved wrist to his lips. 

            Rogue hissed as he bit into her wrist.  She expected him to drink, after all it was what vampires did, but instead he bit his own wrist and offered it too her.  She brought his wrist to her lips, and he repeated the actions with Rogue's.  Green eyes met brown as quiet suckling noises pierced the air.  Her brown eyes grew wide as the rich, metallic liquid took on a taste she found appealing.  Rogue's sucking grew harder and the pressure on her wrist told her that Steffon was keeping pace with her.  She briefly wondered if that was part of the transformation, but quickly set it aside as waves of emotion washed over her the more blood she drank. 

            Within minutes Rogue felt completely different.  She felt the rhythm of her heart slowly drop off before stopping altogether.  When she ran her tongue over her teeth she felt the emergence of two fangs.  Her skin tingled where her shirt rubbed against it. Rogue looked around to discover her vision was far keener than it had been ten minutes ago.  All in all, Rogue found herself satisfied. 

            "Why isn't my skin cooling?" 

            "Just because we're dead, it doesn't mean the body doesn't retain any warmth.  We're not as warm as humans, but we do retain some semblance of a normal temperature after we've fed." Angie answered. 

            "Your body is dead, but the blood that is now in your body is ancient, and circulates on its own."  Steffon continued. 

            "How old are you?" Rogue asked the pair. 

            "267" Angie answered.

            "154" Steffon said. 

            "Angie is my creator, as I am yours." 

            "You've been given a gift Rogue.  The blood of a dark master.  Though you are a fledgling, you have incredibly potent blood." Angie answered. 

"It used to be called junk blood, or bad blood because it was tainted.  The originator was a vampire named Ankia.  She was a dark priestess in ancient times.  She was a nomad, and it is not known where she originally came from.  Ankia was accused of crimes against the crown in Scotland in the year 1298.  As she awaited execution, she created a powerful curse, whoever was touched by her curse would become the carrier of a strain of blood whose properties would survive in only the strongest of vampires.  It came with a high price though.  The blood eventually consumes the carrier until he or she is destroyed.  It is one of the only things that can destroy a vampire." Angie explained. 

"While she was being taken to her execution, Ankia got a hold of one of the guards.  She bit him in the neck and began sucking his blood.  She pierced her own tongue with her teeth and mixed the blood before kissing him.  He pulled away from he too surprised to do anything and she muttered the curse.  William Machrin was the first blood descendent from Anika, and it is from him that our history is recorded."  Steffon finished. 

"Steffon was the last carrier, and he was showing the signs of destruction.  That's why we needed you."  Angie said quietly.  "You're DNA has longer lasting properties than that of a human's." She said, answering Rogue's question before she had a chance to voice it.

"So, how long is it before this blood kills me?"  Rogue asked in a deceptively quiet voice.

"We don't know Rogue." Steffon answered quietly. 

"You used me." She accused, voice full of rage. 

"We offered you something you wanted.  We just didn't tell you the consequences." He answered evenly. 

Rogue launched herself at him and to her own surprise she had him pinned to the floor almost as soon as she had jumped.  To her surprise she heard Angie laugh. 

"You're already stronger than we thought.  I wouldn't be surprised if you could fly."   

  "I already could." Rogue said simply, not wishing to get into the story of Carol. 

"Well Rogue, if you'll kindly get off of me, why don't we train you in some of the necessary tools of survival?" Steffon voiced. 

Rogue nodded her agreement and the three vampires took off into the night. 

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Westchester, New York 

                        Charles Xavier's morning routine hadn't varied in many years.  He was up early, groomed himself impeccably, and went out to his office where he took his light breakfast, newspaper and the daily mail.  Considering what kind of an institute Xavier's was, there were a lot of bills, and at least one or ten hate mail letters.  Occasionally Charles would open one just to see what the crazies had to say.  After all, the great thing about America was that everybody had equal rights.  For now. 

            Slitting open an innocent looking white envelope, Charles pulled the letter out and began reading: 

            Fithy mutties, 

You're time is gonna come.  Scum like you have been allowed to roam free in this country for too fucking long.  Judgment day is here, and scum like you will be paid your dues.  You're abominations of God.  None of you deserve to be on the face of this planet.  Your mothers all should have had abortions instead of allowing filth like you to pollute the earth. 

There is a reason infancide is practiced in some countries.  Unfortunately, the liberal sympathizers see some value in your sorry hides.  They're as bad as you are and come this summit, I'll be voting for the right thing.  The American thing to do.  And you'll have to drag your sorry asses out of this fine country.  

            Charles raised a single eyebrow; it was a bit cruder than most letters he'd received that appeared to be from members of the senate.  He tossed the letter into the wastebasket and reached for the next one in the stack.  The postmark was from a New Hampshire town, and was in the same bold type he'd come to expect when Rogue was in a secretive mood. 

            Inside was a short newspaper clipping and that was all.  He'd read it two days ago as part of a bigger article.  He figured that Rogue knew he had read it, but he was touched by her thoughtfulness for sending it nonetheless.  His mind wandered to the last conversation he'd had with Logan. 

(Flashback) 

"Charles, where is she?"

"Nice to see you again Logan.  Welcome home." 

"Yeah.  Rogue.  Where is she?"

"Have a seat Logan." Charles gestured with his hand. 

Logan did so grudgingly, his posture was tense and he kept fidgeting. 

"Rogue is a very capable young woman Logan. She chose to pursue her own life.  You've got to respect her wish for privacy.  In time I'm sure that she will contact you." 

"I know she's been writing to you Chuck." 

"Do you have a point? If so please get too it Logan.  I don't have time to engage in meaningless conversation if you're going to act like a child." Charles said harshly.

"Fine. I'll find her myself."  Logan growled and slammed the door shut.   

Charles waited until he was certain Logan was out of earshot before he let a grin slide over his face and began chuckling.  In truth, everybody wanted to know how Rogue was doing.  She hadn't departed on the best of terms with all of the mansion's residents, Charles included.  He had felt a strange absence where Rogue usually was this morning.  While he didn't actively track Rogue, he could generally 'feel' her.  It insured him that she was fine, and her silence from it this morning had him more worried than he would admit.  

            Still, she'd asked to be left alone, and she was an adult able to handle herself and her own life.  Charles shook his head and vowed to let it rest for now.  If he couldn't locate Rogue, by Cerebro if necessary in a few days, he would send out the proverbial search party.  But for now he would just let it be. 

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