X-Men: Dark Moon
A FanFic by: Artemis Hunter
Continued... Complications
When a appears with someone speaking, it means the dialogue is in italics.
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Moira followed Becka out of the classroom and out into the villa's main hall. A tall boy rushed past in a blond blur, bumping into Moira as he jogged outdoors.
"Finally!" The boy yelled. "I thought I was gonna kill myself in there!"
"Oh, shut up, Marcus!" Becka demanded back at him. "I guess guys are all the same, mutant or not, huh?"
The new girl smiled accordingly. She could sense that Becka had a slight crush on the boy who had past them, in spite of her barrage on him.
She took a deep breath and risked extending her empathy further into the room. Mostly she felt glimpses of joy and relief from the students rushing around them. Normal teenage hormones were swirled into the mix as Moira noticed two younger boys teasing a group of girls.
A different mood suddenly entered her mind. She turned to the source of the emotion- the staircase heading upstairs. She sensed sadness, loneliness; she began walking towards the stairs until Becka pulled her in the opposite direction.
"You're gonna really like it here, Moira, I just know it. And since we're roomies now, I guess I'm your official tour guide. Come on, I'll introduce you to some of the guys."
Becka hustled her down the marble staircase leading to the backyards. Pausing halfway down, Moira gazed out at the field. The villa grounds sprawled out for several miles in either direction along the coast of Lake Como. It was the middle of the afternoon; the sun beat down as a crowd of students relaxed on the lawn before the beach. The young Asian girl grabbed Moira's wrist and smiled warmly, dragging her further down to the bottom of the stairs.
"Come on, now, don't be shy."
Moira followed Becka appreciatively, but her mind was still focused on the grim presence she had detected earlier. She glanced quickly at the highest floor of the villa, where a dark figure stood at the lone window above. She released Becka's grip on her hand.
"Actually, I'm a little beat, Becka. I think I'm going to just head up to the room for a bit; you know, get some rest before class starts again."
Her self-appointed tour guide smiled warmly. "Alright, Moira. I guess another time then?"
Moira headed cautiously toward the doorway inside. "Definitely."
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Gwendolyn led John out onto the balcony after they had gotten some food in the villa's kitchen. She hugged her arms, basking in the warm sunlight, and smiled as she watched students rough-housing on the lawn. John leaned against the rail, watching her face intently.
"What is it?" She asked, noticing him from the corner of her eye. He was startled for a moment, considering what to respond with.
"So what's your plan exactly; you going to cure me or something?" She knew that wasn't the question he wanted to ask her.
She moved to the railing beside him. "I'm sorry John, but it doesn't work that way. I know that...thing...may not be your more attractive face," Gwen paused for a moment, reevaluating what she'd just said.
John grinned appreciatively, breaking their gaze. She quickly shook off the initial embarrassment and continued.
"But it's still part of who you are. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be."
They stood in silence for a moment, and Gwen found herself studying John's face. In the clear light of day, she saw how young he really was. He was lean and tan, the brilliant sunlight shone through his dress shirt, making it somewhat transparent. His wild, golden eyes were bright and attentive as he watched the students wander the grounds. Heading away from his eyes, she noticed he bore a small tattoo; a ring of sharp triangles leading down from his brow to his upper cheek. His hat had hidden his face so much the previous night; she hadn't noticed his strong features before now.
She quickly stopped herself. What was she thinking? The man had tried to kill her, twice in fact, and she was grading him. She scorned herself, attempting to push him out of her mind. And yet, a thought crept back to her; he had attempted to kill her, but never actually succeeded; he had always stopped himself. She recalled night on the cathedral, the connection there had almost been.
She saw his head suddenly perk up, is ear slightly twitching, leaning towards the side of the villa. She smirked for a moment at John's almost canine instincts, yet his face remained stern.
"Are you expecting company?" he commented, half-consciously staring into space.
"Not that I'm aware of. What's wrong?"
"I hear a car." They made eye contact for a moment as Gwen thought on it. She sprinted back inside toward the front door with John in tow, and thrust it open. Squinting in the sunlight, they both saw a small black car entering the front gate of the grounds about a mile out. John's keen eyes made out a small, gold-fringed flag waving on the antennae behind the car.
"Government employee." He didn't seem to take any interest in the fact. Gwen, on the other hand, began to tense up, gritting her teeth.
"Shit." Gwen rushed back inside, pacing the main hall, yelling at the top of her lungs. "David, Arthur, he's here! Decato's here!"
In a burst of speed, the two men slid into the room from the back lawn, their faces wrought with concern. David peeked out to the front driveway. "What? He's not due till next week!"
Arthur gave a warning glare toward John. "He must've caught wind of our little outing to the city."
John stood in the doorway, still eyeing the car outside, but he could easily sense the tension emanating from the hall. He caught the scorn in Arthur's comment, but forced himself to ignore it. "I give this guy about three minutes before he gets here."
Gwen nodded to the students lounging out on the lawn. "David, get the kids to settle down for a while. No powers until we give the ok."
The man nodded and ran outside to get the students attention. Arthur remained at her side, still glaring at John. "What about him? Decato will have questions."
She ignored Quinn's obvious objection and headed out the door towards the driveway. "He'll be with me." She placed her hand on his arm, urging him outside. "John?"
"Right." He complied eagerly, wondering why this Decato man had caused such a stir.
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The black car slowly pulled up to the parking a few yards from the villa. The driver's door opened and a man in a neatly pressed black suit stepped out: Vincenzo Decato, school board inspector, a thin-set, older Italian man with a spiteful disposition. His lifted his eyes nonchalantly to the roof of the villa, hiding his eyes from the sun as if he were allergic to the light.
John kept close to Gwen as she sauntered over to the car, appearing as casual as possible to not merit suspicion.
"Inspector Decato, we were not expecting you today." She extended her hand to the man. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"
The wiry man shook her hand stiffly with a suspicious eye landing on John.
"Buongiorno, Signora Holmes. In light of recent events, I've decided to advance the date of my inspections." The man answered in obnoxiously perfect English.
Gwen put on a convincing look of confusion. "Recent events? I'm afraid I don't understand."
His eyes narrowed, unimpressed. "I suppose you haven't heard; there was a slight disturbance in Milan last evening. A group of young people gallivanting around the city. Witnesses recognized a silver convertible with a large-muscled man driving." He eyed David's car parked in the open garage.
"You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
Gwen smiled innocently, but John could see she wanted to punch him in the mouth. "I'm afraid not, Inspector. We haven't had an outing to Milan for months. We're all starting to get a bit of cabin fever, in fact."
"Really," His flat voice showed once again that he was unconvinced by Gwendolyn's excuses. He turned suddenly toward John. "And who is this?"
John reached his hand out, smiling quite charmingly, Gwendolyn noticed. "John DiMarco. An old schoolmate of Gwen's. I'm here on a visit for the week."
"American?" the older man commented sharply. "Signora Holmes, you really do have friends everywhere."
She smiled inwardly at his eagerness to help. "Yes, well, I was just giving John a proper tour of the house; I suppose you would like to join us? Two birds with one stone as it were."
Decato ran his hand through his graying, slicked back hair, smiling shrewdly. "Very well, lead the way, Signora."
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Moira stepped carefully up toward the third floor of the villa. As far as she could tell, there weren't any dormitories on the level. The lights on either side of the winding staircase remained unlit; the only light entering came from a handful of open rooms which were no more than storage rooms. She inched down the hall, following her senses to the end room. The door seemed to have been newly painted, but Moira could see scratch marks deep in the wood.
She ran her hand along the markings, her curiosity growing even stronger. Whoever she had sensed, he or she was behind that door.
"Hello?" She whispered into the door. She felt that the melancholy emanating from the room was interrupted by surprise. She heard shuffling from inside as the room's resident stumble to the door.
"Who...who is it?" A young Scottish man's voice answered. The door creaked open to reveal a shadowed figure. Moira craned her neck to catch a better glimpse of the man, smiling kindly.
"My name's Moira, I..."
"The new student? Yes, Gwendolyn told me about you."
"Really? Well I..."
"What are you doing up here?" he interrupted.
"Taking a personal tour, I guess," She answered nervously. "I just wanted to see if there was anything of interest up here."
The man chuckled quietly. "Well I'm afraid you won't find much of interest here, Moira."
She smiled and laughed with him. "Well I don't know about that." She looked into his eyes, trying to get a reading from the man. "What's your name?"
A pause followed. He didn't seem very accustomed to visitors. "Michael. Michael Devlin."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Michael..."
Footsteps sounded through the hall as Gwendolyn's voice chimed in uncharacteristically loud, like a warning. "Well if you notice, Inspector Decato, nothing much has changed up here."
Moira gasped, glancing around for a place to hide. The door behind her creaked open a little further and a strong hand tugged her by the arm into the darkened room. Michael pulled her into a small closet behind the door, placing his hand softly over her mouth.
She tried to pull away, startled from being dragged into the darkness, but calmed down when a shuffling noise came from outside. Shadows appeared under the door as the doorknob turned uneasily. Moira peaked through a crack in the closet door and saw an old man, followed by Gwen and DiMarco, enter the room. Moira glanced up at Michael and nodded, understanding the need for silence. The young man responded by dropping his hand to her shoulder.
The old man silently examined the room. "Well Signora Holmes, one can never be too careful."
"Careful of what exactly, Inspector? This is just an art studio."
At Gwen's comment, Moira glanced around the shadowed room and noticed that the walls were covered in sketches and canvases. She couldn't make out the images on them through the darkness, so she leaned forward a bit to get a closer look. Michael hurriedly pulled her back.
"Not yet." He whispered into her ear, placing his hand back over her mouth.
The inspector glanced at the closet in reaction to the noise, stepping closer. Moira instinctively drew back into Michael's arms, holding her breath. His grip on her shoulders tightened reassuringly.
"I'm afraid classes will be resuming soon, Mr. Decato."
The man's attention was diverted for just long enough to move him away from their hiding place. Both Michael and Moira silently sighed in relief.
"I'm sorry for detaining you from your work, Signora Holmes."
John leaned the door open for both of them as they returned to the hallway. Moira listened intently as the trio's footsteps became fainter, trailing down the staircase. Michael slowly opened the door, letting Moira out into the large room.
She turned around to face the man. He was raggedly clothed; his dark jeans and green hooded sweatshirt were covered by a knee length wool coat. He pulled a wool cap over his dark shaggy hair. She smiled at him, noticing his uncomfortable slouch.
"Thank you, for hiding me back there."
Michael looked up with intense, dark eyes. "I figured Gwen wouldn't want Decato to see you." He smiled gently. "Especially since you're probably the reason he's here."
She nodded, crossing her arms in the draft of the single window beside her. "I suppose I better stay here till he leaves, then."
"Uh...well...I suppose...I mean you don't have to..."
Moira ignored his nervous stumbling and turned to the silhouetted artwork hanging on the walls. "May I?" She pointed to the thick curtain covering the window.
Michael nodded nervously, backing into the shadowy corner away from the light. Noticing and sensing his apprehension, Moira only pulled the curtain open enough to see the paintings on one wall. "Wow. Michael, these are amazing."
The wall was an eclectic collection of pencil sketches, charcoal drawings, and paintings. Her eyes and hand moved around the wall randomly to different pieces: landscapes of the villa grounds in all the seasons, portraits of students and teachers, images of the moonlit Lake Como.
"Are these all yours?"
"Yes." She sensed his surprise at her praise of his work. "Do you really like them?"
She nodded energetically. "They're wonderful. I especially like this one." She pointed to a small sketch of a grotto surrounding a stone fountain.
"That's one of my favorites too." Michael's voice suddenly became lively as he absent mindedly stepped into the light towards the wall.
Moira studied him as she finally got her first good look at the young man. The first thing she could notice in the shadow was his height; the man had to have been at least six and a half feet tall. As soon as he reached the light of the window, however, his mutation became apparent; she saw his face and hands, the only skin visible from under his thick clothing, were a dark blue-gray. The strands of hair peaking out from under his cap were a dark black with a noticeably blue tint.
She was initially shocked at his appearance. But then she recalled his kind demeanor toward her ever since they met. His mutation was obvious, but he was not hideous in any respect; Moira decided he was in fact quite handsome. His face was kind and youthful, with brightness in his eyes. She smirked just as Michael realized that he had stepped into the open. He began backing away in shock, until he saw her face, smiling at him, and his surprise deepened.
"You're not... afraid of me?"
She laughed quietly. "Why would I be afraid?"
"Everyone else is. That's why I stay up here."
She walked up to him, lifting his hand into hers, examining it. "Well, I guess I'm not everyone else, then." Michael hesitantly smiled at her for a moment, and then continued studying the artwork on the walls.
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John followed close behind Gwen and Decato as they headed back down to the inspector's car.
"I'm very sorry that we couldn't help you about that incident, inspector."
Decato's eyes narrowed. "Yes, well, it's alright, Signora. I hope it is alright if I return with any further questions I have?"
"Of course. You're always welcome."
He eyed her cautiously, nodding. "Good. I'll be taking my leave then." He glanced at John, disdain hidden behind his fake smile. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. DiMarco."
John nodded, flashing his charming smile again. "Ditto."
With that, Decato opened the door to his car and drove off, the wheels of the car kicking up dust on the path.
John watched Gwen for a few moments, seeing the anger in her face at the confrontation that had just occurred. She huffed as she turned away from the car.
"The sheer gall of that man! How dare he question us as if we're some kind of ... criminals!"
He laughed, kindly patting her on the shoulder. "What was that all about, anyway?"
His question forced Gwen to calm down to answer. She took deep breath and sighed. "The Milan school board has recently become sponsored by a company called Hammond Industries, headed by its creator, Gabriel Hammond. Have you ever heard of him?" John shook his head silently in response. She nodded, not surprised.
"They're quite prevalent in the field of genetics. Some of the leading scientists in the field of mutation studies are on their payroll."
"What would they want with a school board?"
"They know about us, John, what we are. Hammond and his lackeys would like nothing better than to have every last mutant thrown into a science lab."
"And Decato?" John took one last glimpse at the car trailing dust in the distance.
"Vincenzo Decato would rather see us wiped off the face of the earth." Her tone was venomous.
"Why don't you just get rid of him?" He suggested it as if it were the obvious solution.
Gwen smirked, as if she didn't mind his idea. "We can't just run around killing people we don't agree with! We have to play by their rules. Everything is legalities and contracts with Hammond. All he needs is a legitimate reason to come in here and take us all away."
"And that's Decato's job. To find you unfit to keep the kids?"
"That's our suspicion."
John watched her face, and noticed the obvious exhaustion overcoming her.
"Seems like you've got a lot on your plate to deal with."
She took another long breath, smiling half-heartedly. "You have no idea."
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To be continued...
A FanFic by: Artemis Hunter
Continued... Complications
When a appears with someone speaking, it means the dialogue is in italics.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Moira followed Becka out of the classroom and out into the villa's main hall. A tall boy rushed past in a blond blur, bumping into Moira as he jogged outdoors.
"Finally!" The boy yelled. "I thought I was gonna kill myself in there!"
"Oh, shut up, Marcus!" Becka demanded back at him. "I guess guys are all the same, mutant or not, huh?"
The new girl smiled accordingly. She could sense that Becka had a slight crush on the boy who had past them, in spite of her barrage on him.
She took a deep breath and risked extending her empathy further into the room. Mostly she felt glimpses of joy and relief from the students rushing around them. Normal teenage hormones were swirled into the mix as Moira noticed two younger boys teasing a group of girls.
A different mood suddenly entered her mind. She turned to the source of the emotion- the staircase heading upstairs. She sensed sadness, loneliness; she began walking towards the stairs until Becka pulled her in the opposite direction.
"You're gonna really like it here, Moira, I just know it. And since we're roomies now, I guess I'm your official tour guide. Come on, I'll introduce you to some of the guys."
Becka hustled her down the marble staircase leading to the backyards. Pausing halfway down, Moira gazed out at the field. The villa grounds sprawled out for several miles in either direction along the coast of Lake Como. It was the middle of the afternoon; the sun beat down as a crowd of students relaxed on the lawn before the beach. The young Asian girl grabbed Moira's wrist and smiled warmly, dragging her further down to the bottom of the stairs.
"Come on, now, don't be shy."
Moira followed Becka appreciatively, but her mind was still focused on the grim presence she had detected earlier. She glanced quickly at the highest floor of the villa, where a dark figure stood at the lone window above. She released Becka's grip on her hand.
"Actually, I'm a little beat, Becka. I think I'm going to just head up to the room for a bit; you know, get some rest before class starts again."
Her self-appointed tour guide smiled warmly. "Alright, Moira. I guess another time then?"
Moira headed cautiously toward the doorway inside. "Definitely."
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Gwendolyn led John out onto the balcony after they had gotten some food in the villa's kitchen. She hugged her arms, basking in the warm sunlight, and smiled as she watched students rough-housing on the lawn. John leaned against the rail, watching her face intently.
"What is it?" She asked, noticing him from the corner of her eye. He was startled for a moment, considering what to respond with.
"So what's your plan exactly; you going to cure me or something?" She knew that wasn't the question he wanted to ask her.
She moved to the railing beside him. "I'm sorry John, but it doesn't work that way. I know that...thing...may not be your more attractive face," Gwen paused for a moment, reevaluating what she'd just said.
John grinned appreciatively, breaking their gaze. She quickly shook off the initial embarrassment and continued.
"But it's still part of who you are. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be."
They stood in silence for a moment, and Gwen found herself studying John's face. In the clear light of day, she saw how young he really was. He was lean and tan, the brilliant sunlight shone through his dress shirt, making it somewhat transparent. His wild, golden eyes were bright and attentive as he watched the students wander the grounds. Heading away from his eyes, she noticed he bore a small tattoo; a ring of sharp triangles leading down from his brow to his upper cheek. His hat had hidden his face so much the previous night; she hadn't noticed his strong features before now.
She quickly stopped herself. What was she thinking? The man had tried to kill her, twice in fact, and she was grading him. She scorned herself, attempting to push him out of her mind. And yet, a thought crept back to her; he had attempted to kill her, but never actually succeeded; he had always stopped himself. She recalled night on the cathedral, the connection there had almost been.
She saw his head suddenly perk up, is ear slightly twitching, leaning towards the side of the villa. She smirked for a moment at John's almost canine instincts, yet his face remained stern.
"Are you expecting company?" he commented, half-consciously staring into space.
"Not that I'm aware of. What's wrong?"
"I hear a car." They made eye contact for a moment as Gwen thought on it. She sprinted back inside toward the front door with John in tow, and thrust it open. Squinting in the sunlight, they both saw a small black car entering the front gate of the grounds about a mile out. John's keen eyes made out a small, gold-fringed flag waving on the antennae behind the car.
"Government employee." He didn't seem to take any interest in the fact. Gwen, on the other hand, began to tense up, gritting her teeth.
"Shit." Gwen rushed back inside, pacing the main hall, yelling at the top of her lungs. "David, Arthur, he's here! Decato's here!"
In a burst of speed, the two men slid into the room from the back lawn, their faces wrought with concern. David peeked out to the front driveway. "What? He's not due till next week!"
Arthur gave a warning glare toward John. "He must've caught wind of our little outing to the city."
John stood in the doorway, still eyeing the car outside, but he could easily sense the tension emanating from the hall. He caught the scorn in Arthur's comment, but forced himself to ignore it. "I give this guy about three minutes before he gets here."
Gwen nodded to the students lounging out on the lawn. "David, get the kids to settle down for a while. No powers until we give the ok."
The man nodded and ran outside to get the students attention. Arthur remained at her side, still glaring at John. "What about him? Decato will have questions."
She ignored Quinn's obvious objection and headed out the door towards the driveway. "He'll be with me." She placed her hand on his arm, urging him outside. "John?"
"Right." He complied eagerly, wondering why this Decato man had caused such a stir.
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The black car slowly pulled up to the parking a few yards from the villa. The driver's door opened and a man in a neatly pressed black suit stepped out: Vincenzo Decato, school board inspector, a thin-set, older Italian man with a spiteful disposition. His lifted his eyes nonchalantly to the roof of the villa, hiding his eyes from the sun as if he were allergic to the light.
John kept close to Gwen as she sauntered over to the car, appearing as casual as possible to not merit suspicion.
"Inspector Decato, we were not expecting you today." She extended her hand to the man. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"
The wiry man shook her hand stiffly with a suspicious eye landing on John.
"Buongiorno, Signora Holmes. In light of recent events, I've decided to advance the date of my inspections." The man answered in obnoxiously perfect English.
Gwen put on a convincing look of confusion. "Recent events? I'm afraid I don't understand."
His eyes narrowed, unimpressed. "I suppose you haven't heard; there was a slight disturbance in Milan last evening. A group of young people gallivanting around the city. Witnesses recognized a silver convertible with a large-muscled man driving." He eyed David's car parked in the open garage.
"You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
Gwen smiled innocently, but John could see she wanted to punch him in the mouth. "I'm afraid not, Inspector. We haven't had an outing to Milan for months. We're all starting to get a bit of cabin fever, in fact."
"Really," His flat voice showed once again that he was unconvinced by Gwendolyn's excuses. He turned suddenly toward John. "And who is this?"
John reached his hand out, smiling quite charmingly, Gwendolyn noticed. "John DiMarco. An old schoolmate of Gwen's. I'm here on a visit for the week."
"American?" the older man commented sharply. "Signora Holmes, you really do have friends everywhere."
She smiled inwardly at his eagerness to help. "Yes, well, I was just giving John a proper tour of the house; I suppose you would like to join us? Two birds with one stone as it were."
Decato ran his hand through his graying, slicked back hair, smiling shrewdly. "Very well, lead the way, Signora."
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Moira stepped carefully up toward the third floor of the villa. As far as she could tell, there weren't any dormitories on the level. The lights on either side of the winding staircase remained unlit; the only light entering came from a handful of open rooms which were no more than storage rooms. She inched down the hall, following her senses to the end room. The door seemed to have been newly painted, but Moira could see scratch marks deep in the wood.
She ran her hand along the markings, her curiosity growing even stronger. Whoever she had sensed, he or she was behind that door.
"Hello?" She whispered into the door. She felt that the melancholy emanating from the room was interrupted by surprise. She heard shuffling from inside as the room's resident stumble to the door.
"Who...who is it?" A young Scottish man's voice answered. The door creaked open to reveal a shadowed figure. Moira craned her neck to catch a better glimpse of the man, smiling kindly.
"My name's Moira, I..."
"The new student? Yes, Gwendolyn told me about you."
"Really? Well I..."
"What are you doing up here?" he interrupted.
"Taking a personal tour, I guess," She answered nervously. "I just wanted to see if there was anything of interest up here."
The man chuckled quietly. "Well I'm afraid you won't find much of interest here, Moira."
She smiled and laughed with him. "Well I don't know about that." She looked into his eyes, trying to get a reading from the man. "What's your name?"
A pause followed. He didn't seem very accustomed to visitors. "Michael. Michael Devlin."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Michael..."
Footsteps sounded through the hall as Gwendolyn's voice chimed in uncharacteristically loud, like a warning. "Well if you notice, Inspector Decato, nothing much has changed up here."
Moira gasped, glancing around for a place to hide. The door behind her creaked open a little further and a strong hand tugged her by the arm into the darkened room. Michael pulled her into a small closet behind the door, placing his hand softly over her mouth.
She tried to pull away, startled from being dragged into the darkness, but calmed down when a shuffling noise came from outside. Shadows appeared under the door as the doorknob turned uneasily. Moira peaked through a crack in the closet door and saw an old man, followed by Gwen and DiMarco, enter the room. Moira glanced up at Michael and nodded, understanding the need for silence. The young man responded by dropping his hand to her shoulder.
The old man silently examined the room. "Well Signora Holmes, one can never be too careful."
"Careful of what exactly, Inspector? This is just an art studio."
At Gwen's comment, Moira glanced around the shadowed room and noticed that the walls were covered in sketches and canvases. She couldn't make out the images on them through the darkness, so she leaned forward a bit to get a closer look. Michael hurriedly pulled her back.
"Not yet." He whispered into her ear, placing his hand back over her mouth.
The inspector glanced at the closet in reaction to the noise, stepping closer. Moira instinctively drew back into Michael's arms, holding her breath. His grip on her shoulders tightened reassuringly.
"I'm afraid classes will be resuming soon, Mr. Decato."
The man's attention was diverted for just long enough to move him away from their hiding place. Both Michael and Moira silently sighed in relief.
"I'm sorry for detaining you from your work, Signora Holmes."
John leaned the door open for both of them as they returned to the hallway. Moira listened intently as the trio's footsteps became fainter, trailing down the staircase. Michael slowly opened the door, letting Moira out into the large room.
She turned around to face the man. He was raggedly clothed; his dark jeans and green hooded sweatshirt were covered by a knee length wool coat. He pulled a wool cap over his dark shaggy hair. She smiled at him, noticing his uncomfortable slouch.
"Thank you, for hiding me back there."
Michael looked up with intense, dark eyes. "I figured Gwen wouldn't want Decato to see you." He smiled gently. "Especially since you're probably the reason he's here."
She nodded, crossing her arms in the draft of the single window beside her. "I suppose I better stay here till he leaves, then."
"Uh...well...I suppose...I mean you don't have to..."
Moira ignored his nervous stumbling and turned to the silhouetted artwork hanging on the walls. "May I?" She pointed to the thick curtain covering the window.
Michael nodded nervously, backing into the shadowy corner away from the light. Noticing and sensing his apprehension, Moira only pulled the curtain open enough to see the paintings on one wall. "Wow. Michael, these are amazing."
The wall was an eclectic collection of pencil sketches, charcoal drawings, and paintings. Her eyes and hand moved around the wall randomly to different pieces: landscapes of the villa grounds in all the seasons, portraits of students and teachers, images of the moonlit Lake Como.
"Are these all yours?"
"Yes." She sensed his surprise at her praise of his work. "Do you really like them?"
She nodded energetically. "They're wonderful. I especially like this one." She pointed to a small sketch of a grotto surrounding a stone fountain.
"That's one of my favorites too." Michael's voice suddenly became lively as he absent mindedly stepped into the light towards the wall.
Moira studied him as she finally got her first good look at the young man. The first thing she could notice in the shadow was his height; the man had to have been at least six and a half feet tall. As soon as he reached the light of the window, however, his mutation became apparent; she saw his face and hands, the only skin visible from under his thick clothing, were a dark blue-gray. The strands of hair peaking out from under his cap were a dark black with a noticeably blue tint.
She was initially shocked at his appearance. But then she recalled his kind demeanor toward her ever since they met. His mutation was obvious, but he was not hideous in any respect; Moira decided he was in fact quite handsome. His face was kind and youthful, with brightness in his eyes. She smirked just as Michael realized that he had stepped into the open. He began backing away in shock, until he saw her face, smiling at him, and his surprise deepened.
"You're not... afraid of me?"
She laughed quietly. "Why would I be afraid?"
"Everyone else is. That's why I stay up here."
She walked up to him, lifting his hand into hers, examining it. "Well, I guess I'm not everyone else, then." Michael hesitantly smiled at her for a moment, and then continued studying the artwork on the walls.
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John followed close behind Gwen and Decato as they headed back down to the inspector's car.
"I'm very sorry that we couldn't help you about that incident, inspector."
Decato's eyes narrowed. "Yes, well, it's alright, Signora. I hope it is alright if I return with any further questions I have?"
"Of course. You're always welcome."
He eyed her cautiously, nodding. "Good. I'll be taking my leave then." He glanced at John, disdain hidden behind his fake smile. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. DiMarco."
John nodded, flashing his charming smile again. "Ditto."
With that, Decato opened the door to his car and drove off, the wheels of the car kicking up dust on the path.
John watched Gwen for a few moments, seeing the anger in her face at the confrontation that had just occurred. She huffed as she turned away from the car.
"The sheer gall of that man! How dare he question us as if we're some kind of ... criminals!"
He laughed, kindly patting her on the shoulder. "What was that all about, anyway?"
His question forced Gwen to calm down to answer. She took deep breath and sighed. "The Milan school board has recently become sponsored by a company called Hammond Industries, headed by its creator, Gabriel Hammond. Have you ever heard of him?" John shook his head silently in response. She nodded, not surprised.
"They're quite prevalent in the field of genetics. Some of the leading scientists in the field of mutation studies are on their payroll."
"What would they want with a school board?"
"They know about us, John, what we are. Hammond and his lackeys would like nothing better than to have every last mutant thrown into a science lab."
"And Decato?" John took one last glimpse at the car trailing dust in the distance.
"Vincenzo Decato would rather see us wiped off the face of the earth." Her tone was venomous.
"Why don't you just get rid of him?" He suggested it as if it were the obvious solution.
Gwen smirked, as if she didn't mind his idea. "We can't just run around killing people we don't agree with! We have to play by their rules. Everything is legalities and contracts with Hammond. All he needs is a legitimate reason to come in here and take us all away."
"And that's Decato's job. To find you unfit to keep the kids?"
"That's our suspicion."
John watched her face, and noticed the obvious exhaustion overcoming her.
"Seems like you've got a lot on your plate to deal with."
She took another long breath, smiling half-heartedly. "You have no idea."
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To be continued...