Everyone's watching you
Do you keep your eyes down on the ground?
Everything's falling apart,
Do the feelings just keep going round?

Talking is painful here,
Will they always want you to appear?
Because everything's falling apart
So feel me
And feel free

You can't stay Fallen Forever
You can't live with your back to the wall
Why pray when there's nobody out there?
And there's so much time to fall

            ~Fallen, Mesh


CHAPTER 9: ENTROPY, PT. 2

"This isn't right, Logan," Jean hissed as they walked through the halls of the complex toward the Briefing Room. "I'm a telepath; our memories aren't supposed to get scrambled unless something catastrophic happens."

Logan gave her a bemused, sidelong glance. "Somethin' pretty big happened, Jeannie. That was one helluva light show you put on."

"I know…" she sighed, frustrated. "It's just maddening."

"It'll come, darlin', give it time."

They walked in silence for a moment, and then Jean tilted her head at him, a strand of fiery hair falling forward into her face. "Logan… I know it's been seven years for you, but it's been an eye-blink for me… and I can tell, something's different between us. You seem… different somehow."

"Lots o' things're different, darlin'," he said, voice gruff.

She thought for a moment, pressed her lips together, not quite willing to ask, but not quite able to help herself. "Did something happen? Is it… Ororo?"

He stopped walking, turned to look at her, dark eyes veiled. "We split about six years ago."

"Oh. I…"

"Water under the bridge, Jeannie, like a lot o' other things."

Like you and me? she wondered, but didn't dare ask. "What happened?"

"She felt like she was second best. Didn't like it," he said with a simplicity that was somehow graceful despite his terse tone.

"Logan, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said, eyes never wavering from hers. "She made her choice."

She nodded and met his gaze. "What about you? Did you make your choice?"

"A body can get used to anything, given enough time." He shrugged, the gesture rough and unpunctuated by emotion. "Even lovin' someone who don't love you back."

Did he mean Ororo… or did he mean…

She stared into his eyes, feeling that old, undeniable magnetic pull between them.

"Logan," she whispered, and raised one hand, reaching out to touch him.

He caught her hand, placed it gently back down at her side. His expression was torn, pained, but he only shook his head. "Not now, darlin'. Between Magnus, Rogue and Remy, we got enough heartache in this place to fill a dozen Harlequin romances."

She nodded, fingers numb, face hot. Stupid… why had she…?

Magnus… the name echoed in the corridors of her mind, touching on something… something nebulous and undefined.

"Magnus!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "Whatever happened, why I'm here, it has something to do with him."

Logan frowned, squinted up at her from beneath furrowed brows. "What?"

"I… I don't know," she admitted, her face falling. She chewed on her lower lip, trying in vain to remember. It had been so close, just a moment ago…

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

The briefing was painful, but mercifully short. Between discussing Remy and Kitty's current status and the status with the government, there hadn't been a happy face in the entire room.

But then, Rogue thought, when had there ever been?

She stood near the Blackbird, watching the small group of mutants Magnus had selected to go on the mission to investigate the Hellfire Club board the jet. She didn't exactly know why she was here… just a feeling. A need to say goodbye.

But that was silly, wasn't it? He wasn't going to be gone long, and even if he were… well, it shouldn't matter now, should it?

But it did.

Remy was her life… but he didn't even remember her. And the truth was, she still cared for Magnus. You didn't spend seven years side by side with someone in every way, shape and form save lover and not come to care for them. But how much, exactly, did she care? And how much of an effect was it going to have on whatever was to come?

Magnus entered the hangar, eyes registering surprise as he saw her. He walked to where she stood, and she glanced around, making sure the rest of the group had boarded.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he said. His voice was careful, but his eyes… oh, his eyes. It almost made her angry, to see the tenderness in them and the hurt that lurked just beneath.

"Ah wanted to… say goodbye," she said, lifting one shoulder in an uncertain half-shrug. It sounded weak to her ears, and she knew it must have sounded even weaker to him, who had no reason to expect her there.

"Ah… Ah felt like, with you leaving all the sudden in the middle of… everything… Ah," she struggled with the words and glanced down at her feet, suddenly self-conscious. "Ah just wanted to let you know that Ah…" She took a deep breath, forced herself to meet his eyes. "Ah do care about you."

"I know," he said, and gave her a pained smile. "But I also know where your heart lies."

She nodded feeling numb. "He doesn't remember me."

He reached out, and she felt the ghost of a breeze caress her face, his fingers not quite daring. "He will. No one could forget you for very long."

"Ah don't know what's gonna happen," she said, looking up at him with sudden anxiety. "Ah don't know that even if he gets his memory back that things'll ever be like they were. All Ah know is right now Ah feel like Ah'm torn in two, and no matter how much Ah keep tellin' myself Ah should be focusin' on mah own life, you're still here in mah heart. An' Ah know Ah shouldn't be tellin' you all this, but Ah feel like Ah have to let you know so you won't think..." she trailed off and lifted her shoulders, unable to complete the thought.

"That you are a horrible person?" he finished, and gave her a sad smile.

She nodded, her eyes brimming with tears.

"I could never think that," he answered and he was so warm, so sincere and loving despite his obvious pain that she felt her heart rise in her throat.

"You've been the best thing in all of this," she said suddenly, her voice catching. And before she could think to stop herself, she rose on her toes and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Be careful," she said as she drew back, giving him one last, long look. Then she hurried from the room without a backward glance, fearing that if she looked back over her shoulder, she'd do something even more incredibly stupid than what she'd already done.

She didn't see him standing there, fingertips pressed against his lips, eyes mournful and surprised as he watched her go.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

It took him a few minutes to gather himself, to put his emotions back in their proper place before boarding the Blackbird.

Upset. She was just upset and in a moment of high emotion. Don't hold on to hope, you foolish old man, he chided himself.

Piotr and Wanda sat near each other, their despair almost palpable, and Logan navigated the plane, Jean at his side. Madelyne sat near the back of the jet, her face stony and sulking. Magnus had been reluctant to bring them both, but he feared leaving the two red-headed telepaths in the same place for too long without his interference even more than he dreaded the inevitable bickering he would have to endure.

Divided and torn, confused and sad as they all were, and he was the only thing holding this group together right now.

His hand went unconsciously to his temple, and rubbed at the spike of pain there.

He only hoped he had enough strength to keep them together.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

In the Arizona complex, Ororo hesitated outside the door to Remy's room, then slowly pushed it open.

Goddess. Alive and awake, whole before her very eyes. She still could not believe it.

"You not goin' to attack me if I don't remember you, are you chere?" he asked with a semblance of his smirking grin, but she could hear the trepidation that lurked beneath his teasing tone. How difficult this must be for him. Even more difficult than it was for the rest of them.

"Remy… it is so good to see you alive and well, my friend."

"Not dat I'm not happy to see you, chere, tall, dark and beautiful as you are… but do I know you?"

"We were good friends, once."

"Just friends?" he asked, and arched his brows suggestively.

"Yes," she replied with a reluctant smile she couldn't seem to hold back. "Just friends." She thought back to when they'd first met, of their weeks alone together that had suddenly become much more meaningful when she'd been progressed back to her natural age and become a woman again. "But there but for the grace of the Goddess…"

"Too bad for you, chere," he said and dropped her a wink, his confidence returning as he saw that she was not angry. "You don't know what you missin'."

She stifled a laugh. "From what I understand, you do not know what I would be missing."

"Well," he said with a wide grin. "Some t'ings, you just know."

She shook her head and marveled at him. "You haven't changed at all."

"Yeah?" he asked with an insouciant tilt of his head, lazy smile still playing about his lips. "Dat's good to know. But I'm afraid you got de advantage over me, chere. I don't even know your name."

"Ororo," she said, suddenly feeling strange. "Storm to my teammates."

"Dat's pretty," he said with a nod. "Stormy it is, den."

And this time she did chuckle. She couldn't help but indulge him; she had missed him so.

"No. You have not changed one bit, my friend."

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

The great hall was built almost exactly as Magnus remembered it, white marble stretching up into cathedral ceilings and elaborately carved arches. All the X-Men stopped, took a long, breathless look at their surroundings.

Logan gave a low whistle and shifted an unlit cheroot around in his mouth. "Musta cost them a pretty penny to get this place back up to snuff."

"Who has this kind of money?" Wanda wondered, her tone hushed.

"It's exactly like I remember it," Jean said, and shook her head in amazement.

"I guess you would know." Madelyne sniffed and deliberately looked everywhere except Jean.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jean asked as she turned on the woman, red hair flowing around her angry face.

Madelyne shrugged and shot her a nasty grin. "You did spend some time here as the resident Black Queen."

"I wouldn't go throwin' stones, if I were you," Logan said, and quirked a crooked, humorless grin Madelyne's way. "Goblin Queen."

"Several of the X-Men have been members here, myself included," Magnus broke in, heading off the fight before it could get started. "There have been times when the Hellfire Club's goals have aligned with our own, let us not forget."

"I'm so glad to hear you say that," came a voice, soft and teasing, and a moment later, a woman stepped through the wall and phased into existence.

"By the white wolf," Piotr whispered.

"My God," said Magnus, looking her up and down.

"'Round here, they just call me 'my Queen'," Kitty corrected with a wink.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Jean-Luc? Irinee asked, speaking up inside her brother's mind. I didn't get to talk to you before the briefing… are you…?

Don't, he said, turning his face from her as she entered his room. I'm—I'm fine.

She stopped, took in his tear-stained face, and was silent for a long time.

He doesn't remember us, her brother sent after a while, mental voice harsh and angry.

They said he doesn't remember anything. The only reason we know as much as we do is because Madelyne did a psi-scan on him. She can't touch his memory, but she doesn't need to. She can see in his surface thoughts that he can't touch his own memories.

I know! It still isn't fair that we finally get dad back and he doesn't even remember us. Jean-Luc rolled his eyes in anger and set his jaw. At least he has an excuse. He lost his memory… somehow.

Irineé sighed, tried to shut away her frustration with the whole situation. Mom hasn't forgotten about us. Why did you say those things to her?

Because… he dodged his sister's penetrating, emerald eyes and shrugged. Because ever since Dad died… she's been… different. And you know it! He added, his mental voice gaining strength.

She was sad for a long time, Irineé agreed, but she never stopped loving us.

No, Jean-Luc agreed quietly after a moment, his anger fading back a notch. But she did forget about us.

No she didn't. She's just been busy. Trying to do things to make the world better for all of us. She loves us. I feel it like a caress every time she mindlinks with us.

I know she loves us,
Jean-Luc said, and sighed. I just… without dad around… she's always busy or it's always X-Men stuff. Things have never felt right.

Irineé nodded. I know. But it was hard for her, losing dad.

Hard for us, too!

Yeah, but we have each other. You know as well as I do when dad died, mom lost all her support. Magnus filled that empty space he left, a little, but never enough.

And now that Magnus could, now that he finally was, dad's back.
Jean-Luc's mouth curved in a cynical smirk that his father had long ago patented. Funny how life's like that, when you're an X-Man. You never really get what you want; you just get more and more taken away.

Don't be morbid, Irineé said with an exasperated look at her brother.

She paused, reconsidered his face, so like her own, and her expression softened. So much talking since their father's return, so much explaining and guessing. He was just confused. They both were.

I think I'm still in shock, she said, letting the strident tone leave her voice.

Jean-Luc snorted a laugh and wiped an errant tear from his eye. Yeah. Me too

She closed her eyes, her brother's tears of confusion mirrored in her own eyes. Her father's face drifted inside her mind, strange and familiar all at once. Who are you? she wondered quietly, a thousand questions swirling inside her, each one aching as it pulsed in her heart and climbed to her throat. What am I supposed to feel? What am I supposed to do? Cry? Scream? Sulk? Leap for joy? How am I supposed to help mom and Jean-Luc when I'm so scared and confused? You're my Daddy, you're supposed have all the answers.

At least he's not dead because of us, anymore, Jean-Luc said, voice hard and self-deprecating.

Irineé took a deep, shuddering breath. You know better than that. He did what he thought he had to do to save us. He couldn't have known what would happen.

That's what she told herself, practically every day of her life, but late at night, between the drift and dreams, guilt had a way of slipping in like an old friend, curling comfortably around her bones and making its home there. She said it for her brother, to comfort him, but she didn't believe it in her heart.

Jean-Luc shook his head and didn't respond for a long time, and she wondered if he'd sensed her doubt in her own words.

What do we do now? he asked at last.

I don't know, she said and sighed. She moved into the room, sat down next to her brother and took his hand in hers.

But we'll figure it out… together, just like always.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

"Champagne?" the Black Queen asked and turned, snapping the fingers of one leather-gloved hand. A servant dutifully appeared, bottle in hand, and another trailed just behind with a tray of glasses.

"After all," Kitty said, looking at them with a bright smile that could have belonged to a shark or an angel. "This is cause for celebration. The reunion of old friends and all." She paused, looked at Magnus, and blinked. "Magnus, you look… great. You haven't aged a day. In fact, you've de-aged quite a few decades. What's your secret?"

"Katya…" Piotr stepped forward, still looking stunned. "What… what happened to you?"

"Why Piotr, darling, whatever do you mean?" she asked with a smile, taking a champagne flute from one of the servants.

Still off-balance, Piotr seemed to regain some of his footing with her words, his face changing from slack surprise to an expression of anger. "I mean this, Katya. This is not you. You have been gone for seven years without a word, and we come to find you here? Where have you been? What has happened to you? Why did you…" he deflated as the winds of anger left his sails, leaving him weary and defeated. "Why did you leave me?"

"Aw, Piotr. Still carrying a torch? How sweet," she said, and flashed him a smile. "And is that a torch-bearer I see with you?" she asked, craning her head to look at Wanda.

Wanda turned bright red, but Logan spoke before she could even begin to form the words to respond.

"Cute, darlin'. Seems like the years've been worse fer the wear. The Kitty I knew would've never acted like this."

"Logan," Piotr turned to him, his face a sad landscape wrought with desperation. "Please… is it her?"

Logan nodded once, lowering his eyes. "Sorry Petey. Her scent's exactly the same."

"Kitty," Magnus implored, stepping forward to meet her. "You invited us, we came. Surely you had more in mind than tormenting us."

"Of course," she said, moving to a seat at the table. Spreading the length of her black cloak beneath her, she sat, and motioned for the others to do the same. "Join me in a drink?" she asked Magnus as he sat down across from her.

He took the champagne flute she proffered without a word.

"You're a little early for the ball, but oh well. I had a feeling you might decide to show up early, and better we do this now than spoil the party." She set her drink aside and put her elbows down on the table, leaning forward toward him. "I'd prefer to get right down to business, of course, but I can see I'm not going to get anywhere until I've explained all this, am I?"

"Highly unlikely," Magnus agreed.

Piotr had subsided to a chair near his side, and from the corner of his eye, Magnus could see the big man's fingers twitch as they worked nervously at the highly polished, white-lacquered wood. He had feared this would go badly. How bad it would get was still in question.

Kitty paused, as if gathering her thoughts, and for the first time Magnus saw a trace of doubt in her arrogant, cold features.

"It was the day after I'd left the team. I'd gotten a laptop and I was in the woods. I hacked into the government's systems with a wireless network card, and all of the sudden, this… thing comes pouring out of the laptop, through the connection, I guess. It was like nothing I'd ever seen. Liquid metal, could change shape in an instant. It was a robot, but it was alive, too. I tried to phase through it, short circuit its systems, and… well, it was alive. It was using a technology that we hadn't even developed yet, back then, something called nanites. Living, sentient pieces of technology. Phasing through them flash fried my own nervous system…" She paused, shifted in her seat. "But something else happened, something I didn't understand then."

"I was dying, and I called out. Your sister answered, Piotr," she said, glancing toward him.

"Illyana?" he gasped. "She is still…?"

"Alive? Yes." Kitty nodded. "Twisted and damned by the Limbo dimension she rules, but she's alive."

Piotr's head dropped again, and Magnus wondered how many more emotional blows the man could take.

"I was dying, and she saved me. There wasn't time to take me anywhere, so she took me to the only place she knew I could be healed; Limbo. It took a lot more time, magic and technology than she thought it would, but eventually I started to heal. And when I did, I realized that phasing through that robot had changed my body permanently. The nanite technology that powered it had merged with my own atoms, attached to every molecule in my body." She uttered a strange laugh. "I was never in any danger of dying. Given enough time, I would have healed on my own, but my system was in such a state of shock from the sudden change that my recovery was much slower than the robot's would have been."

"What," Magnus asked, narrowing his eyes on her, hoping he wasn't understanding her correctly, "do you mean?"

"I mean," Kitty replied, pulling a glove from her hand and holding it up, palm facing Magnus. "That I made out in the deal." As Magnus watched, her fingers lengthened, stretched long and taper thin, their tips curving into razor-sharp points that glittered with a touch of metal.

The X-Men drew a collective breath, words failing.

"It's not as good as the robot's technology," she said, her face straining with effort. "But then, I only got a small portion of them." Her fingers seemed to waver like a mirage, and then they snapped back into place; normal, feminine fingers flexing as she shook her head and drew a sharp breath.

"It hurts," Magnus said, not asking.

"Like the devil," Kitty agreed with a mirthless grin.

"Katya," Piotr spoke up, his voice shaking, almost pleading. "You could have come back to us."

"Could I?" she asked, staring at her hand. "New technology and few years spent in the hell of Limbo can change a girl."

"Katya. We are X-Men. We are family. And I was… your beloved. We would never have turned our backs on you."

She stared at him for a moment, considering those deep, soulful eyes for long, silent seconds that seemed to last forever. Then she turned away, began pulling the glove back on to her hand. "It doesn't matter now, does it?"

"Of course it does!" Piotr exclaimed. "Katya, I would not turn my back on you even now."

"Really Piotr?" she asked, eyes cutting into him with cold, merciless questing. "Would you cast off your new lover and take me back into your arms, even now?"

"That's not a fair question, darlin'," Logan said, and his expression was not amused.

Magnus turned his head, noted how Jean looked at Logan, how much of an impact his words had had on her, and silently sighed. Yes. That was all they needed now.

"No," Kitty agreed with a slight incline of her head. "But then again, life's not very fair to any of us, is it Logan?" She drew herself up, glove back in place, and set her hands on the table before her. "I'm not coming back to the fold," she said, voice calm and detached, speaking to all of them now. "So you can drop that idea right now. I only asked you here because I have a proposition for you all. One that could prove very lucrative to both of us."

"But Katya, I still do not understand--"

Her eyes snapped back to Piotr, flashing fire now, her face contorted with anger. "I'm done with that life, Piotr. Understand that. I've had enough of the death, the tiny victories that mean nothing, the constant fighting and never gaining an inch of ground. I've had enough of losing all the people and things that I care about. Enough of being hated and hunted for what I am. Xavier had it all wrong—there's no way for mutants and humans to live together in this world. There's not even a way for mutants to live with each other! So go ahead. Ask me to come back to the team so I can watch more people I care about get put in the ground. So I can spend every day of my life wondering if I'm going to be next and half-hoping I will be. Is that the kind of life you want for me?" she demanded.

Piotr's mouth opened and closed, staggered by her vehement words. "But Katya, it is not like that. We have made steps, come farther than we have in years--"

"It's not enough. It never was. You understood that once. And I understand it now."

"I…" Piotr grasped for words for a moment, then slowly closed his mouth, dejected as he withdrew into himself. Everyone at the table shifted, uncomfortable in the silent moment, their hearts breaking for the noble warrior.

"I fear I've been a terrible hostess," Kitty said, rising from her seat and regaining her composure. "And now the mood has been spoiled. I think maybe everything will look better in the morning, don't you?" she asked, her cool, gracious smile returning. "I've had rooms prepared for each of you—more than enough in fact. I expected quite a few more of you," she added, with an odd, secretive smile.

Magnus rose from his seat, placed both hands on the table. "We did not come prepared to stay, Kitty."

"Oh, come on, Mags," she said with a grin. "Rome wasn't built in a day."

"Why do you think we will be interested in any deal you have to offer? The X-Men are not mercenaries. We do not work for money."

"You might, for the right deal," she said with another secretive smile. "My servants will show you to your rooms. I think you'll find them more than adequate." She hesitated a moment, her face working with uncertain emotion, as if she considered saying something more. Then she phased through the floor and was gone.

After a long moment, Magnus turned to the rest of the group. "What say you all?"

Logan shrugged. "Well, you said yerself, our goals line up sometimes. Might be worth listenin' to. And none o' us got anywhere to be."

He looked to Piotr, and much as his own need to return to the complex churned in his chest, he could not deny the man whatever choice he might make.

Fervent hope still burned in the larger man's eyes, and Magnus felt their light resembled nothing so much as a funeral pyre.

"Very well," he said with sinking hope. "We will stay."

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

The room was more than adequate, as Magnus had expected. Nothing less than the best for the members or guests of the Hellfire Club.

He sighed and sat down on the edge of a bed that was large enough to hold five people with room to spare, tossed his helmet onto the night table, and rubbed at his temples.

The headaches were coming with greater frequency and intensity now, but he still hardly gave them a passing thought. With all the stress he had endured lately, it was no wonder that his head ached.

He thought back to the meeting, shook his head. This woman resembled nothing of the spirit of the Kitty Pryde he remembered, and yet, physically, she was exactly the same. Her movements, the cadence of her voice… Jaded, cynical, poisoned by her own losses, twisted by them in heart and mind, she reminded him so much of his younger self that it pained him.

He understood, perhaps more than all the others, the ease of turning away from the world, of shutting out its pain and frail, human fallacies. He understood the loss of hope, the desire to rule the world rather than be tread upon by it. There was power in such belief, and the fires of that solitary rage had fueled his strikes against the world for nearly three decades, burned out his heart and left it a blackened cinder, ashes curling around its edges.

The road back from such hatred was a long and painful one, and despite the fact that he had traveled its twists and turns for the last twelve years, he could not see the way for another to travel it. How many times had he stumbled, as he stumbled even now?

Rogue. Remy. Rage. Hate. Revenge. That road was so much easier, and far more satisfying. None knew that better than he did.

Sometimes, he thought he would trade his current life of pain and understanding for the simpler one of purposeful ignorance.

Is it even so, Magnus? Charles' voice spoke up in his mind.

Caught in a moment of weakness, he pressed his hands to his face and leaned into his knees.

It is, he answered, and felt a tear slip from the corner of one eye. How long since he had cried? How long since the pain of the world had driven him to such weakness? Magda, Rogue, Charles, Kitty, all of those he had failed, all of those he had killed in his time… their faces seemed to rise up out of the void and accuse him with hateful eyes, and he crumpled beneath the weight.

I do not want this. I cannot do this.

"Is it even so?"

It is.

His mind exploded in a bright flash of pain so bright and complete, that for a moment, he could see himself within his mind; a thin, dark silhouette against a red-black sky, one hand raised in a fist that railed at the heavens, the other spread outward, fingers pleading, as if seeking supplication.

When the pain was gone, so was he.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Madelyne curled within the gigantic bed, luxuriating in the feel of silken sheets.

Mmm… this is a life a girl could get used to, she thought, and snuggled her face against a pillow.

She was drowsing, mind lost in the pleasant, bright land between slumber and waking, when a sharp rap sounded at her door.

She sat bolt upright, every nerve suddenly alive and aware, mind already reaching out to see who was there.

What the devil--?

She wrapped a length of sheet around her body and dragged it to the door, pulling the latch open with her mind.

The man stumbled through the threshold, losing his footing as he almost fell into her.

"What the bloody blazes is wrong with you?" she demanded, startled and angry.

And just like that, he regained his feet and stood up straight with suddenness that frightened her.

"Why… nothing at all, my dear," he said with a malicious smile, and laid two fingers alongside her temple.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

"Jean?"

The door fell open and Magnus staggered into her room, nearly falling to his knees.

"Magnus!" the telepath gasped, leaping from her bed. "What is it?"

"My mind... Ever since the body switch, I have been having… terrible headaches," he gasped, struggling to catch his breath. "They get worse… each time. The last one…. knocked me unconscious. I was… hoping you could… help me."

She caught him with her telekinesis as he pitched forward, his consciousness fading, and floated him to the bed.

"Damn," she muttered, biting down on her lower lip as she surveyed him. He sincerely didn't look well, and if the trouble was linked to the body switch…

She pushed the thought from her mind, and seated herself on the bed next to him. No sense in guessing. He'd asked her for help, and it was the least she could do.

She closed her eyes, and the world fell away.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

On the astral plane, everything was breathtaking, sparkling, glittering and glowing. It was almost completely healed of the Shadow King's wounds, and Jean found a sudden thirst she hadn't known existed completely quenched with her arrival there. She'd forgotten how much she loved it…

Sensing something, she turned. Flames leaped and blurred around her astral form, and through them, she saw the tall, dark form of a man, a mirror image of herself standing just behind him.

What--?

Shh, my dear, he sent, sliding up to her and placing a finger over her lips. She was caught, twin wills pressing down on her and holding her immobile as his hands slid down her sides, sending a cold shiver through her form.

You'll spoil the surprise.

She didn't even have time to scream.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Logan was awake the moment he heard footsteps outside his door, and he opened one eye just slightly to view the person who was entering his room.

He sat up, but he didn't have time to utter a word as she leaped on him, mouth crushed against his, sweet, hard and demanding.

His hands tangled in her hair, almost against his will, and then he pulled free, fighting every instinct, every desire.

"Jeannie? For the love o' heaven, darlin', what're you doin'?"

"What you've always wanted me to do," she whispered, voice a warm breath against his lips.

He felt like he was drowning in her, her body so close against his, curves fitting perfectly together, soft and hard, smooth and rough.

She kissed him again and darkness descended.

He was lost.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Kitty ran through the halls of her newly restored home, heart thundering in her chest, bare feet slapping in a steady rhythm against the hard, marble floor.

From hunter to the hunted in mere seconds, she would have phased if she could have fought through her panic long enough to do so.

They were coming. They were too close behind her, their laughter mocking her and echoing in her head, making her moan.

They were—

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

On the other side of the country, Jean-Luc and Irinee sat suddenly bolt-upright in bed, hands shaking, bodies covered in cold, dripping sweat, a dark shadow filling their minds like the reaper itself.