"Get him out of there," Mary Jane managed, breathless with terror. "Illyana!"
"Can't," Illyana said, her eyes hard. "He's grounded. I'm going in." A stepping disk flashed up around her, and Mary Jane fell to her knees, riveted to the view in the scrying pool.
The Soulsword was already whistling down in a mighty swing as the stepping disk deposited Illyana in the middle of the battle. The blade sheared through the cable with a snick, freeing Peter. Peter crashed to the ground and feebly pushed at the cable that was wrapped around his waist, now cut off from the source of its animation.
Illyana squared off with Octavius. "Okay," she said. "You say you know my grandfather. Whatever. You have these ideas about who I am. Fine. Doesn't matter. I'm going to stop you right here." She raised her sword, gripping it in both hands. Letting him make the first move.
"I can feel it in your soul," Octavius said, his face unreadable and his eyes hidden behind the dusty glasses. "The power. And the evil."
"I faced the evil inside me," Illyana said. "It almost destroyed me, but I rose above it. I've been through that, and from now on I am one of the good guys. You missed your chance, Octavius. You should have come last year." He paused, uncertain. She flexed her grip and narrowed her eyes.
"Unclean thing, your death is at hand," she intoned in her best wizard voice.
Two limbs hissed at her; her amulet flared, and one of the cables recoiled from a flash of light as her sword swept out to meet the other, shearing off the frayed end of the cable.
Her eyes glinted with malice as she spun with the sword, backing him off for a moment, then she charged with the blade brandished before her. Nothing could stand before her.
A cable snaked around and caught at her hoof, the finger-long spears of cable strand digging into her fetlock and arresting her progress. She screamed and skidded to a halt, awkward on one hoof. Spinning, she slashed at the cable and severed several feet of it.
She kicked with her punctured hoof to free it of the length of cable, and as she faced Octavius again he jabbed—
The bristled cable punched lightly at her face, and she didn't manage to twist out of the way. The cable smacked into her face, spines of steel punching through her eyeball and eye socket, rocking her head back on her neck as it cracked her skull. She unleashed a scream as she toppled to the ground, the blooded cable hovering over her. She clutched her face as blood poured out between her fingers.
"I'll take that," Octavius said, picking up her soulsword. Then he sputtered as thick web slapped across his face.
He raked at it with his fingers, and when he could see again he glanced around to note Peter Parker, carrying Illyana, swinging up into the air. A stepping disk claimed them both.
"Very well," Octavius said with a shrug as his cables wound around the hissing soulsword. "Tomorrow we finish this." His smile was unsettling as he vanished into the shadows.
xXx
Illyana unsteadily gasped with pain as she sprawled on the cobbles of Limbo. Her hands were pushed against her face. Peter wobbled, then wisely chose to sat down. Mary Jane kept her distance, shocked by all she had seen.
"I'm the world mage," Illyana whispered as she pressed her hands against her mutilated face and eye. "I can heal anything here. Come on. Come on." A whine of pain was in her breath as she quivered, otherwise motionless.
"Is she going to be okay?" Mary Jane asked, fear in her eyes.
"You were watching?" Peter asked in return.
"I was," Mary Jane said. "I'm so glad I never got to watch your other fights."
"Maybe you just don't need to see what's going on," Peter said. "It is dangerous."
"Obviously," Mary Jane said, nodding at Illyana.
Illyana took a deep, shuddering breath. Then she sat up, lowering her gory hands from her face.
She had two eyes, though one of them was thoroughly bloodshot. The punctures in her face were already sealing. Illyana managed a painful smile. "Okay," she said. "Okay, that's better."
Peter let out a sigh of relief. "Not to say you wouldn't look good in an eyepatch, but damn."
"My sword," Illyana murmured, her smile vanishing. "He got my sword. It's tucked into his network." Her jaw tightened. "Awright, dammit, this guy is going down. Tomorrow." She looked Peter in the eye. "It's time to bring in some outside help. Strange or Valeria. This guy warrants it."
"Maybe so," Peter said fiercely, "but I want to do this. Strange and Valeria aren't always going to be there. If I'm going to get married and bring Mary Jane into this," he said with a gesture, "I need to be able to protect her."
"You're not cutting me out of this," Illyana said sternly. "One, because you're not suicidal. Two, because he keeps spouting off about my grandfather. I never knew my grandfather, but this creep is taunting me and I'm going to get to the bottom of it. Failing that, I'll just settle for shutting his fat mouth."
"Right," Peter said, a glint in his eye. "You and me. Crossing the generation gap to kick his ropy butt."
"Deal," Illyana said with a nod.
There was a quiet moment. Mary Jane cleared her throat.
"Well, with that out of the way, can we go home?" she asked.
"Right. Sorry," Illyana said. "See you guys tomorrow." She gestured, and a stepping disk carried Mary Jane and Peter to Mary Jane's apartment.
"Okay," Mary Jane said as they landed in her living room. "Not to deflate your berserk machismo, but what the hell are you thinking? Let Tandy and Tyrone and Strange and this Valeria person and anybody else that wants in on it go take this freak show out. Let Strange snap his fingers and make it all go away. Why do you think you have to do this? Can't you save your next death-defying solo act for after we've been married a week or two?" Her eyes flashed with anger, her face was pale, her breathing fast. Her nails printed half-moons on the flesh of her hands, her fists were so tight.
"You were watching," Peter said. "He plans to kill Aunt May, you, everybody close to me. Then after I've been crippled, he'll kill me. I don't want to trust his defeat to other hands. I mean, Strange is awesome and all. But Tandy and Tyrone were both caught up in something he thought he dealt with in January. No," he said with a shake of his head. "I need to be involved. I need to make sure this ends. And he's not human. He's not alive. I've got to kill it for good if I can. I don't believe in killing," he said quietly, "but if they're vampires then it's different, isn't it."
"Vampires with cable whips that seem more than capable of handing you your ass, Peter," Mary Jane said in a hushed voice. She shook her head. "Maybe all your fights go like that. I don't want to know if that's true. But you seemed a hair's breadth from maiming pretty much the whole fight."
"Sometimes it takes me a few minutes to figure out the style," Peter said uncomfortably.
"You may not get the time," Mary Jane replied.
Peter closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. He opened his eyes.
"Mary Jane," he said evenly, "this is something I've got to do."
She looked into his eyes, then shrugged. "You gotta do what you gotta do, Parker," she said with a small sigh. "Nail him. Whatever. But that doesn't get you out of tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow… morning…" Peter said, his mind working. "Your parents get in at the airport," he said as realization dawned. "That's great. Look, I gotta find Octavius. I can catch up at the rehearsal dinner, right? I need to hunt Octavius during the day. That's when he'll be vulnerable."
"No," Mary Jane said simply. "One of the things you gotta do is go with me to meet my parents. For God's sake, Peter, we're getting married the day after tomorrow and they've never even met you. And not for lack of trying, either. Things are tense enough without you ditching them again now. You need to take a shot at Octavius. Believe me, I understand the need for him to take a fall. But you're getting married to me, too. And I require you to come with me to pick up my parents and spend a little time with them. If you won't bring in outside help, then you'll just have to work around your schedule."
Peter thought that over. "You're right," he sighed. "You're totally right. I'm not always going to be able to drop everything and handle these little threats. I really do need to meet the family, get this stuff ready to go. Illyana can search better than I can anyway."
"Good," Mary Jane said, softening. "I just want to get married, Peter," she said quietly. She tried on a smile. "Just that."
"I know," Peter said, pulling her into a gentle embrace. "Me too. Um… not to interrupt the mood, but do you think you could tape up my ankle?"
"Sure. Right this way, Danger Butt," she said, leading him to the bed.
"We prefer 'spider ghost' if you don't mind," Peter said loftily. He stripped to his underwear, and her eyes lingered over every bruise, every torn contusion, every welt, every gash, every splinter lodged in his skin. She shook her head.
"Peter Parker," she said, "You're a mess. You look like you were in an avalanche."
"He's not gentle," Peter agreed as he lay down. "You know," he added as she put rubbing alcohol on a cotton swab, "this is the best time for this to happen. If I can somehow get this sorted out, then I'll know I've reached some kind of balance. I'll know what I can handle."
"Handle this," she said playfully, bopping him with a pillow.
"Oh God," he said, flinching and recoiling.
"Peter!" she said, discarding the pillow. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't think—"
He rolled over, pulling her into a close embrace and immediately overpowering her. "Hah. Gotcha," he said. "Now, had it been a feather pillow…"
"You want first aid or not," she grinned.
"Let me think it over," he replied, looking into her eyes as they breathed each other's air.
xXx
With the rattling clang and clatter of carelessly manipulated cables, the wearied Octavius returned to the loft. The Owl was waiting for him, pacing back and forth.
"How did it go?" the Owl asked.
"I thrashed Parker and Rasputin's whelps," Octavius said gleefully as he rubbed his hands together. The cables began retracting into his torso.
"How do you know Rathputin's granddaughter if you were defeated in the forties?" the Owl asked.
"You have had too much time on your hands to think things over," Octavius said jovially. "Rasputin was a seer, a prophet. He looked into his own future and he saw his bloodline, he saw a granddaughter that would grow great in sorcery and be tainted with evil. He told me of her when I became a vampire, so I would be watchful."
"Ah," the Owl said with a sage nod.
"Did you get me food?" Octavius asked sternly. The Owl smiled, and led him to the other end of the loft. He opened a door and dragged out three bodybags. One of them began to feebly twitch, and a low moan came from within.
With a satisfied smile, Octavius extended his cables again, and plunged one into each bag. The victims twitched, gasped; one managed a scream. Then the cables kinked and squirmed as they drained blood from their victims.
"Better," Octavius said with a satisfied smile.
"I got you a gift," the Owl said.
Octavius arched an eyebrow. "What sort of gift?" he asked as his cables slowly retracted from the lumpy flatness of the bodybags.
"I brought you a friend of Peter Parker. Tomorrow, if you threaten the girl Parker will give up."
Octavius followed the Owl into the small room, and he looked at the young woman tied to the chair, her hair falling over her face.
"Her name is Gwen Thtathy," the Owl said, "and it would make me feel warm if her killing came upon her."
"That's arranged easily enough," Octavius said with a cruel smile. "I will take her with me. It is time to prepare for tomorrow night…"