A/N: man, this chapter was a bitch to write! I'm sorry, guys, I suck at writing action. : ( The next one will come sooner, I swear!

I love all you reviewers! Don't stop telling me what you think!


Chapter 3

The man known to most as Wolverine, to his friends as Logan, sniffed the air, his lip curling in disgust and contempt as he processed the various scents: cigarette butts, alcohol, vomit, neon lights, the sweaty smell of whores. This city stinks, he said, his gruff voice directed at the brunette woman who walked next to him.

Rogue rolled her eyes in good-natured bemusement. Any city stinks to someone with your sense of smell. Although ah have to admit ya have a point: this city stinks, whether you go by the smell or just... the whole damn thing. Her pretty face wrinkled into a frown when she saw two prostitutes coaxing what looked like cocaine from a dealer that couldn't be more than eighteen. She sighed. She was just a country southern belle: she'd never know what drove these poor kids to do such things.

Storm caught up to her and Logan, matching their long, purposeful strides and interrupting Rogue's thoughts. Hey, you two, she said, her face breaking out into a warm grin. Don't look so excited to be here!

Logan rolled his eyes. Lemme tell ya, Ro, traipsin' through this hellhole people have the nerve to call a city lookin' for a certain fuzzy blue misfit who may or may not have ever been here, who might not even be alive, with no word from Xavier on whether or not he's got any clues on the elf's whereabouts is not exactly my idea of a good time.

Ororo Munroe's smile wavered, and she placed a comforting hand on Logan's shoulder. We'll find him, Logan, she said. Cerebro can find anyone on the planet; it'll find our friend.

Except that it hasn't. Storm, Logan and Rogue all jumped--they'd been unaware of Scott coming up behind them.

Rogue gulped. What do ya mean?

I mean, it's been almost six days since we lost Kurt. Cerebro's one of the most powerful machines on Earth, and Professor X is the most powerful mind, but despite both their efforts we've been completely unable to track Kurt except for a very, very brief trace of him in what Professor X thinks was Nevada, and that was almost three days ago. Something's hiding him from us, and whoever it is is more powerful than Cerebro and Professor Xavier.

Logan frowned, and his hands balled into fists. Are ya sayin' we should just give up, Scottie boy? Are ya sayin' that we should just let him go, figure that he'll be all right wherever the hell he is?

Hey, that's not what I meant--

Like hell it isn't! What if it were Jean that was missin? How'd ya feel then? What if--

I'VE FOUND HIM!!! All five X-men jumped at the sudden telepathic call. Logan snarled, fighting the fight-or-flight instincts that wanted him to pop his claws and impale whoever had startled him.

Professor X? Cyclops had assumed his leader stance,' his legs bent and apart, his finger on his visor, ready to defend his teammates. Is that you?

Of course it's me! I've found him--I've found Kurt! He's right there in the city. There's no time to explain; I'm just downloading his location directly into all your brains. Take the Blackbird to where you find him; I have a feeling you'll need a quick escape. HURRY! I have a feeling that our friend is in the midst of great danger. Now go! GO!

The message ended as quickly as it came. The X-men stared at each other for a few seconds, wondering what the hell was going on--the professor was very rarely that agitated--before snapping into action.

In less than five minutes, the Blackbird was parked in the dirty alley outside Trent's apartment, and the team was gathered together outside it, staring up at the building.

The apartment's elevators being broken, the X-men trudged (or flew) up twenty long flights of stairs, bitterly wishing for Nightcrawler's porting abilities. Out of breath and stumbling, they finally reached the right floor. Why... do they have to make... buildings so damn tall?! panted Cyclops.

Logan's nostrils flared: he could smell his friend around the corner, along with several smells that were... definitely not human. Come on! he yelled to his teammates. He's just around this corner! Sprinting down the hall, he stopped short when he reached Trent's apartment, the rest of his teammates coming up behind him and stopping just as abruptly. A quick gasp escaped from Jean's mouth, and Wolverine instinctively unsheathed his claws.

Logan was reminded of a feeding frenzy: The door was in splinters at their feet, and inside, what seemed like hundreds of men dressed in black were attacking a person in the center of the room. Splinters of wood littered the room, animalistic roars and screams split the air, and blood and bodies were everywhere. The scents of battle assailed Logan, and he bristled: These people, no matter how much they might look it, weren't human!

Uh... Logan, ya sure you got the right room? Rogue asked. Before he got a chance to respond, the vampires took notice of the mutants, and the X-men were part of the battle, fighting for their lives against lethal killing machines that had relinquished any trace of sentience to an all-consuming bloodlust in the heat of battle.

***

Trent opened her eyes as the last bits of her protection smells washed over her and died. Immediately, Gabriel's cronies poured through the door, the malice and animalistic rage in their thoughts temporarily overwhelming Trent. She recovered instantly, and two long stakes were instantly in her hands as she roared a battle challenge to these intruders.

She leapt, the wood in her hands slicing through the air, cutting through necks, arms, chests, anything that moved. She abandoned any thinking part of her brain and gave herself up fully to the task of staying alive. Her chances were much worse here than in that bar: there was less room to fight, no brawling humans to serve as a distraction or hindrance to her assailants, and Gabriel had brought twice the number of vampires than were at the bar.

Trent gasped and ducked as a sharp, wooden knife flew at her head, barely missing spearing her through the forehead. She grimaced and killed the one who threw it, stabbing him and then whirling around to use him as a shield against a second attacker. In the back of the room she could dimly hear Gabriel, barking out orders to his men, egging them on, promising them the blood of a thousand human girls if they injured Trent sufficiently. He doesn't want them to kill me, Trent realized. They're just there to tire me out, make me weak, so he can come in and do the honors himself.

A feral cry ripped out of Trent's throat, and she fought with a new vigor. I'll be damned if I let a few untrained, unskilled vampires and a snotty, rich spoiled brat take me down after years of beating the Night World's best assassins!

Suddenly she became aware of a new presence in the room--several new presences, actually. Her senses told them that they were human, and she knew that the other vampires were coming to the same conclusion.

And unlike her, they needed blood.

She had been able to guess, from the desperation with which these creatures were fighting, that Gabriel hadn't let them feed for several days--probably until they found her. The fact that it weakened them in a fight didn't matter to him: he just liked to see things suffer.

Her combatant's reaction to the humans confirmed her theory. Before the poor souls had so much as a chance to scream, at least ten vampires had broken from fighting with Trent to feast on the newcomers.

Trent barely had time to feel sorry for the victims of the creatures' bloodlust when a bright red beam of energy lanced through several vampires, eliciting animalistic screams and hisses. Trent ducked as a vampire rocketed over her head, thrown by the fist of a brown and white-haired woman.

What the hell is going on here? Trent thought, but was distracted as she saw a vampire, standing apart from the fight, move through the door. It felt like time was slowing down; she could practically see the wheels in the vampire's head turning as his senses and psychic ability brought him the realization of who lay behind Trent's closed bedroom door.

His eyes widened, and he bared his fangs in a demonic grin. Gabriel! She has the blue-furred monst- one of Trent's stakes buried itself in his chest before he could finish the sentence, but it was too late. Gabriel knew.

The red-haired vampire laughed. Of all the crazy things! I knew you were sentimental, Trent, but I never thought you'd rescue that blue freak from the bar and take him home as a pet! He smiled. See how your kindness and sentimentality is rewarded, Trent--watch as I rip out your little pet's heart.

Trent tried to move towards Gabriel, but her foes were all around her, surrounding her, pulling her back, pulling her down, rendering her powerless to do anything but watch in horror as her enemy made his way to the bedroom where Kurt lay.
***

Wolverine was as happy as he'd ever been, in the dead center of a damn good scuffle, complete and blissful in his beserker rage. Except that something wasn't right: he was faster than these dupes (though not by much), he was a better trained fighter, but his claws... they had no effect. No matter how many times he stabbed the creatures, they came back at him, just as strong as before.

He snarled, slicing his adamantium digits through the abdomen of one of his enemies. The creature hissed, and Logan caught a glimpse of ivory teeth. Before he could ponder this, the creature's fist connected with Logan's jaw, and he stumbled. The vampire hissed again, this time in triumph, and a stake appeared outside of nowhere to bury itself in the mutant's chest.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Wolverine reached up and snapped his attacker's neck. Breathing a sigh of relief as he heard the thing scream and fall off him, he removed the stake from his stomach...

And the damn thing wasn't dead yet!

Wolverine roared in frustration and rage as the cretin jumped him again, this time helped by two of his friends. He could see that his fellow X-men were having no better luck than he: Rogue's punches, that could normally crumple tanks, were having no effect on these foes; Cyclops' beams only aggravated his enemies; Jean could do little more than hold her enemies at arms length with her telekinesis; and Storm, in these tight quarters, could only use wind and the occasional hail to hamper her enemies. The X-men, in other words, were being trounced.

Wolverine reeled as a familiar scent reached his nostrils: Kurt was definitely here, right behind... to his horror, Wolverine watched as an evil-looking villain approached the door he knew Nightcrawler was behind. The man smiled as he placed a hand on the doorknob...

The X-man threw his enemies to the side, rushing at Gabriel, but before he could reach the vampire a stake seemed to come out of nowhere, driving deep into Gabriel's shoulder.

Trent cursed as she watched her nemesis cry and rear back in pain. She had been aiming for his heart dammit! If it weren't for these accursed minions crawling all over her...

Furious and frustrated, Trent let loose with the magic that she rarely used--rarely needed to use. She threw a random blast of power, killing the vampire nearest to her and knocking several others away.

It bought her only a moment of time, but a moment was enough. Gabriel had already slunk away out of Trent's reach, but she didn't care about him. She was at the bedroom door in a flash, wrenching it open and yelling inside. Kurt, get out--

Pain ripped through her in the form of adamantium claws as Wolverine slammed into her. Trent recovered and ducked as Wolverine's next swing sliced the air above her head. Jumping back up, she landed a kick in his solar plexus, throwing him back into the arms of waiting vampires.

Wolverine cursed as he struggled to free himself from these insane fighters. This was the woman who had kidnapped Kurt--he knew it, he could smell it on her! And now he was approaching the bed where Logan could see his friend, barely able to stand. Wolverine felt rage boil inside him when he saw the wounds this vixen had inflicted on Kurt.

Trent rushed toward her bed. Kurt, c'mon, let's go while they're distracted by those humans--

Kurt frowned, and stumbled unsteadily as dizziness threatened to overcome him.

Trent motioned impatiently. I dunno who they are, but a buncha humans broke in and provided a distraction. We have to go now, while the vampires are busy killing them! It's the only chance we'll have!

Kurt's amber eyes widened, and his furry jaw dropped as he realized Trent was talking about the X-men. How can you--we can't just leave them here!

Kurt, they were dead the moment they walked in! Now come on, let's-- her sentence was cut short as Wolverine once again tackled her from behind. Trent tumbled to the ground, hitting her head on the wooden bedpost as she fell. Almost knocked unconscious by her encounter with the heavy bedpost, she didn't realize she was trapped until Wolverine swam into her vision. One hand pinned her down, while the other was raised high, claws ready to deliver death.

Trent brought her knee up between his legs, and when he gasped in pain she wrenched her shoulder from underneath Wolverine's massive arm. Slamming a powerful fist into his jaw, she leapt to her feet as Wolverine toppled off her with a cry. A second punch in his gut found him flying across the room to hit the remains of her bedroom door.

In a flash Trent was on her feet, crushing him against the wall. A feral hiss rushed from her throat, and delicate fangs gleamed in the light. Wolverine felt a tremor of fear shiver through him as he found himself staring into downright inhuman eyes that now gleamed silver.

Trent, no! Trent barely inclined her head towards Kurt's voice, and growled in protest when Kurt jumped between them, pushing her away. He's mein freund! My teammate!

Trent's eyebrows rose incredulously. Your team-

She had no time to finish her inquiry. One vampire leapt at Kurt, and another tackled Wolverine; Trent pivoted, narrowly avoiding being staked by the vampire that had targeted her. Spinning, she stabbed her assailant in the back and turned her attention back to Kurt.

He was sprawled on the ground, unconscious and bleeding. To her horror, Trent saw his foe lower his fangs to pierce her newfound friend's neck.

With a roar, she sprang and ripped the vampire away from his prey, smashing him through the wall and down to the street hundreds of feet below. Gingerly picking up her furry friend, she turned to face the rest of her enemies.

There were three coming at her with murder in their eyes; she couldn't deal with them and protect Kurt. Trent's blue eyes desperately searched the room desperately for a way out, and her gaze locked on Wolverine. He was free at the moment: all the vampires in the room were focused on Trent. Making a silent prayer to the goddesses of her witch mother that this man really was a friend of Kurt's, she took a gamble and tossed her charge into Logan's surprised arms.

Wolverine blinked. The woman had just given his friend to him--and Kurt had called her by name, implying friendship. Who was she? What was she doing with Kurt?

Realizing that the situation was quickly becoming desperate for the X-men in Trent's living room, he decided to leave those questions for later and attend to the problem at hand. Rushing to help his teammates, he was immediately noticed by the enemy. Seeing Kurt in his arms, several vampires immediately shot towards him, and Wolverine made a hard decision fast. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Rogue had just dispatched her enemy and was free; he bolted to the window, broke the glass and tossed his blue friend out, praying that Rogue would understand what he needed her to do. His confidence in her proved right, as the southern belle shot past him, flying out the window to catch her foster brother.

Wolverine turned to face the rest of the team. Cyke! Crawler's safe, we gotta get outta here!

Cyclops threw himself down, narrowly missing being skewered by a stake someone had thrown at him. Couldn't agree with you more, Logan! X-men, let's GO!

A roar came from the bedroom, and two vampires were launched through the door. Trent emerged shortly afterwards, her face and especially neck streaked with blood and sweat. Wolverine thought to himself that he never, ever wanted to see a woman that pissed again in his life.

Throwing a last psionic blast at her foes, Jean leapt out the window, flying down to the Blackbird below. Cyclops allowed himself to feel relieved that she was out of the fight, before focusing completely again on the enemy at hand.

The pause in concentration nearly cost him his life. As his hand went to his visor to fry the nearest vampire, he didn't see another one sneak up behind him. A cold hand wrenched his head back, and another impossibly strong arm pinned the mutant leader's arms behind his back. Scott felt a burst of pain as teeth ripped at his throat, and then everything went black.

Wolverine was at his leader's side in his instant, wrenching the vampire away from Scott's neck and slamming him against the wall. He turned to face the rest of his enemies, roaring animalistic threats as he sliced through his foes. Storm, get him out of here!

To his surprise, Logan found Trent fighting by his side, helping him keep the mad creatures away from Cyclops. The smell of blood had sent them into an even further crazed state, and they seemed to care about nothing but getting to fresh blood.

Wolverine heard a whoosh of wind behind him, and out of the corner of his eye saw Storm fly out the window, cradling Scott in her arms. He and Trent were the only ones left in the room--along with the crazed vampires, of course.

They backed up, fighting their way to the window. Trent snarled, slicing through a vampire's chest with her stake, shoving Wolverine toward the window at the same time. The mighty mutant felt like pouting: they stayed dead when she hit them--whhhiii-eeee?

Trent whipped around, and gave Logan another shove on the rump. Get up... on the sill, she panted. She saw a vampire crouch to attack out of the corner of her eye, and threw a stake into his heart, stupidly turning to face him, giving the enemy at her other side an open opportunity.

Trent cursed as she felt pain slice through her shoulder and chest. She turned to glare at her assailant, slashing at his throat with another stake at the same time. God, the pain--she'd forgotten what being hurt with wood was like. It felt like acid had replaced the blood in her veins!

Holding her shoulder, Trent leapt to the windowsill, upon which Wolverine was crouching. They'd retreated as far back as they could go; the only way out was down. Trent peeked over her shoulder, and winced at the distance to the ground. She could maybe--maybe--survive the fall, but she doubted the man beside her could.

Turning to face her enemies once again, Trent wondered how the hell she was going to get out of this. Suddenly she remembered the spells she'd cast around the perimeter of her apartment when she first rented it, and grinned. She peeked over her shoulder, and noticed a metal rod jutting out from the side of the building a dozen feet down. Ha!

She turned back to face the vampires and laughed. Her right hand made a flinging gesture, dispelling a wave of magic throughout the room, stunning the vampires closest to her and setting off the spells placed throughout the apartment; her left elbow jammed into Wolverine's ribs, sending him stumbling over the edge. Spinning, she dived after him.

Catching him around the chest, her other hand lashed out and caught the metal bar. The spells should be activating right about.... now. She braced herself as the room just a few feet above them exploded, spewing debris, magic and vampires throughout Reno. Trent gritted her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut as the building shook violently, attempting to rip Trent and Wolverine away from their fragile safety.

Pain tore through her and Trent cursed, realizing that the arm holding onto the metal rod, the arm supporting both her and Logan's weight and keeping them both from death, was the one that the vampire had sliced almost completely through just seconds earlier. The muscles in her shoulder screamed, and Trent could almost hear the tendons and veins near the wound snapping from the strain of holding on.

And Wolverine wasn't helping any. He was yowling like a mountain lion and slashing around down there, his claws open and slashing anything they could find--mostly Trent's arms. Will you stop fucking around down there?! Trent yelled. Do you want me to drop you, you moron?!

Wolverine roared in reply. Hehatedheightshehatedheightshehatedheights!!! And the fact that this broad's arm was the only thing keeping him from plummeting downwards was humiliating, to say the least.

Trent bit her lip to keep from screaming as fresh waves of pain assaulted her. Her injured arm and shoulder couldn't take this weight--she wouldn't doubt that her arm would just be ripped from its socket if she had to hold on any longer.

She allowed herself to peek downwards. A black and blue jet was rising towards them, and Trent could feel the minds of Kurt and his teammates,' as he'd called them, inside. Trent hoped they were coming to rescue her and her carry-on; she couldn't hold on much longer, not to mention that she could see the vampires that had survived the explosion running back towards the apartment, intent on killing her.

She could feel the muscles in her arm begin to go numb, and her hand was slipping in blood and sweat. She could feel her skin ripping as her shoulder-wound expanded, almost as if she were stretching a piece of clothing that was too small. As if her seams were ripping.

She couldn't take it any longer. Praying that the people in that jet down there were ready to catch them, she let go.

***

Jean, get us the hell outta here! We've got to grab Logan!

I'm trying, Rogue, I'm used to Scott being awake and helping me!

Ah don't care what the fu-- Storm placed a hand over Rogue's mouth before she could say something she would regret later. Rogue, Jean is doing the best she can, Ororo said calmly. I assure you, we will not leave Logan behind.

Rogue walked away, cracking her knuckles and wringing her hands in frustration. Ah know, it's just--those people up there! They were monsters!

Jean found the button to open the hatch, pressing it at the same time bringing the jet off the ground. Moments later, a very pissed off Wolverine plummeted through the hatch, landing in an undignified pile of limbs on the floor. Trent immediately followed him.

She landed on her feet, immediately clutching her right shoulder and roaring in pain. She stumbled, not realizing that there was blood all over her face or that her mouth was open in a feral, predatory expression, exposing her fangs to everyone in the jet.

The X-men stared, their expressions a mixture of horror, fear and curiosity; except for Wolverine, whose only emotion at the time was anger.

What the hell do you-- he started yelling at the woman who'd saved his life, but stopped when Jean gave him a telepathic order to shut up. Storm, I think you'd better take over flying the jet, she said out loud. I need to take care of Kurt, he looks quite injured. Rogue, do you want to get our... um, guest some bandages?

Rogue swallowed her fear. Sure thing, Jeannie. C'mon, sugah--let's get yer ouchies taken care of.