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.
