1
Quade Murphy groaned as the suspect's fist slammed into his face, but held on and resolutely banged the man's head against the moving belt of the baggage sorting machine. The guy thanked him for the effort by punching him in the gut.
Quade headbutted him in the face, then lifted his head distractedly to see where a thump had come from.
The heavy roller went over the suitcase ahead of the struggling men, then landed against the moving belt with a solid thud.
"Oh crap!" Quade grabbed his opponent and rolled off the belt. His head hit the concrete floor about the same time as the suspect landed on top of him.
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"Hey, Quade. Wake up." Cool hands grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to a sitting position, causing his head to ring like a church bell.
He groaned and then bit back a whimper as the effort brought on another ring from his abused skull.
The cool hands touched the back of his head, bringing relief, and he was able to open his eyes. "D' he get away?"
"No. I got him." His partner sat back on her heels, absently tossing pale blue hair back over her shoulder. "You've been watching too much 'Die Hard'."
"At least I didn't let 'im get squashed," he said sourly.
"Detective Nacht?" called a man's voice from somewhere on the other side of the maze of luggage and machinery.
"Over here," she called back, not taking her hands from the back of his head. "I found Detective Murphy. He's going to need medical attention."
Quade heard a radio crackle and squinted blearily at the baby-faced security guard that came to crouch in front of him.
"How is he?" the kid asked.
"He's been worse."
Quade felt everything darkening around the edges. "Kris...you need to find out why he was back here..."
"Uh huh," she said absently, cocking her head.
"Kris?" He tried to focus.
She turned her head the other way, frowning in concentration. "Shh."
He winced at the sound and fell silent, shivering slightly as she moved one hand from the back of his head to his mouth, then watched as she slowly moved her head.
The security guard glanced at him, then started as Kristal got to her feet and began to stalk softly toward a certain green paisley overnight bag that lay on its side next to one of the conveyer belts.
Seeming to nearly stand on her toes, she bent and cocked one slightly pointed ear toward it, then frowned and took a cautious sniff.
Quade let out his breath as she backed away and strode rapidly toward him. "What?"
"Bomb." She stooped and lifted him with a grunt.
He closed his eyes against the vertigo and shoved at her hands. "Let me go, I can walk."
"Stuff it," she responded tersely, pushing the security guard ahead of her as she headed for the door. "And hold still or I'll drop you on your head again."
He fell silent, praying that the timer had a long fuse and that he wasn't going to have to weather another round of teasing for being rescued by his partner.
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Rhianna Schmidt, better known as Kristal Nacht, glanced down quickly as she felt her partner go limp.
"Is he alright?" asked the young security guard anxiously.
Kristal leaned close to hear Quade's breathing and nodded, her pale blue eyes scanning for the medics the kid had called for.
"What's up?" Two uniformed constables hurried up, hands on their sidearms.
"We need to get this place cleared out and a bomb squad in here ASAP," she responded, giving a mental sigh of relief as she saw the stretcher being pushed toward her. "And while you're at it you can deal with the suspect that's handcuffed to the stairs in there."
"Right." The taller cop gave her the hairy eyeball. "Did you see how much time was on the countdown?"
"Monroe told me not to touch anymore bombs after the last time," she said, carefully laying Quade on the gurney and listening as the shorter cop radioed for backup and the bomb team. She paused again to make sure her partner was breathing strongly, then touched her fingertips to the blood that caked his red hair. You better not have given yourself brain damage, she thought as she stepped back.
"Oh yeah." The taller cop allowed himself a slight smirk. "That was some bang, wasn't it?"
Kristal gave him a cool look. "Nearly as big as the one your car made when you ran it into that bus."
"That was you?" The shorter cop paused on his way to the customer service desk. "You never told me that, Ray."
Ray flushed and shot Kristal a dirty look. "Let's start getting everyone moving."
"Sure." The shorter cop continued on his way as Ray walked toward the nearest group of passengers and began to talk to them quietly.
Kristal was only partly aware of them as she watched the EMT wheel her partner away.
"What did he do?" asked another voice at her elbow, and she turned to look into the concerned face of a fellow plainclothesman.
"Fell about six feet and landed on his head with a suspect on top of him." She glanced through the door into the baggage area, glad to see other cops moving around inside. "Where's Jake?"
"Here," said Jacob Holiwell, looking around tensely. "I just skidded out in a puddle of blood back there. Was that Murphy or the suspect?"
"It was Murph," said his partner, looking at Kristal in concern. "You alright?"
"Yeah, Ken, fine," she said absently, starting toward the bomb squad.
"Woah!" He put out a hand to stop her. "Remember what the Chief said about you 'n explosives?"
She scowled and stopped. "Yeah. I'm going to help with crowd control."
"Good idea." He grinned. "Seeing one of you super hero types always calms them down."
Kristal paused just long enough to give him the look she usually reserved for total idiots.
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Things outside were relatively calm as reporters and onlookers pressed against the yellow tape barriers and occasionally tried to duck underneath.
"Uh uh, buddy." Kristal grabbed a guy with a camcorder phone by the back of the pants and dragged him gently back to the line. "Are you trying to get blown into next week?"
She watched the amateur cameraman melt into the crowd, then let her eyes drift toward the mountains that ringed Penticton.
"Hey, luv, ye're a mutant, right?" asked a small man in rumpled army surplus khakis.
She turned to regard him coldly, but he only smiled and leaned against a cruiser.
Then she blinked as his form shifted and a scruffy-looking grey wolf panted at her cheerfully.
"Please clear the area around the police cars." She quirked an eyebrow and turned away to shoot a sneaky reporter a warning look that sent the woman scuttling back under the tape.
"Ye got ever' thin' in hand in there, luv?" The short guy shifted his shoulders to make his clothing sit right, still grinning at her.
She gave him a quizzical look, then blinked again as he tapped a yellow and purple X logo on the chest of his jacket.
"X-Men, luv."
She pointed toward where Monroe's voice ranted and cursed. "Ask him, he's in charge."
"Righteo." He loped in the direction she'd indicated.
Kristal watched him till he disappeared into the crowd, then turned back to her work with a pensive frown.
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She was tired when she finally dragged herself down the outside stairway that led to her basement apartment.
I should probably try to get some sleep tonight, even though I just slept last night.
She paused to look at the answering machine, then threw down her keys and idly wondered how steamed the night desk nurse would get if she called and asked her how Quade was again.
Shaking her head, she took out her gun to lock it up, then set the box on the couch and wandered into the bathroom.
A drink of cold water revived her somewhat and she yawned and shucked off her jacket and shirt, pausing to frown at herself in the mirror.
"I look like a freaking ghost." She brushed her fingers over one snow-white cheek, wondering how loud Monroe would scream if she dyed her hair. "A good-looking ghost," she conceded grudgingly as she glanced down at her trim, athletic figure.
She looked back up at the finely sculpted face in the mirror and stuck out her tongue, then turned and glanced over her shoulder to look at her secret.
They lay curled against her back like unopened flower buds. Two tiny, perfect wings that would never grow large enough to be more than a slight roundness of her shoulders under her shirts.
She stretched them out, feeling the usual aches from holding them still all day, and looked at the soft blue shadows of the light shining through them.
Then she shuddered and closed them quickly, feeling weirded out.
Bath or shower? She contemplated the bathtub as she took off the rest of her clothes, then decided that she didn't feel like Vimming off a bathtub ring.
The water came out of the nozzle like a blast from the arctic and she opened her mouth for another drink as she scrubbed herself with the lufa.
Feeling pleasantly sleepy, she wandered over to what used to be the laundry shut and opened the door. "Hey, Gail?"
"I know," came the apologetic voice of her neighbor and landlady. "The kids left the water running again. I'm sorry."
"Don't sweat it." She let the door swing shut and contemplated the puddle around her feet, thinking about the darker puddle at the airport earlier, then wiped it up and dropped the towel on the pile in the bathroom.
Pulling out a box of Chinese takeout, she opened the lid and put it in the microwave, then scooped up the pile of fliers and junk mail under the mail slot and threw it in the garbage without looking at it. The microwave beeped and she pressed the button to open the door and went to get some clothes on.
Clad in boxers and a tank top, she came back and contemplated the goodness of codfish with corn, broccoli with shitake mushrooms, and the best fried rice in town for a few minutes before giving hurried thanks and grabbing a plastic fork to dig in.
The couch flipped down easily and she curled up on it contentedly, her mind going for a few minutes to the little Cockney werewolf and wishing her mutation had come out like his.
2
Quade opened his eyes and stared foggily at the handful of carnations in a vase on his bedside table. "I hate flowers."
"I know. That's why I got them for you. There's a little plastic stick with a smiling bee on top in there, too."
He squinted and frowned, then blinked as he finally found his partner sitting in the armchair by the window. "I like the bee. What did you do to your hair?"
"You would." She snorted. "I dyed it, what's it look like I did?"
"Can't really see too well yet." He gave up trying to keep her in focus and looked at the bee instead. "What did Monroe think?"
"What do you think Monroe thought?"
He chuckled and shifted slightly, wincing as the movement jiggled the IV needle in the back of his hand. "Did Tronstad and Daley blow anything up?"
"No. They got the bomb defused, then found out that it wasn't put together right to start with. I never realized Daley knew words like that. He seems like such a quiet guy."
"Worse than Monroe?" Quade grinned, picturing the beefy explosive expert's frustration.
"Made Monroe seem like an elementary school teacher." She scootched the chair closer and leaned forward to look at him more closely, though he knew she could pick out a fruitfly ten feet away. "You freaked Jake."
"Jake?" He looked at her in confusion. "How?"
"By leaving your blood all over the floor. He stepped in it." She examined a lock of her newly golden-brown hair with a thoughtful frown.
"Oh." He understood what she was saying and grinned again, closing his eyes.
"You going to sleep?" The chair slid across the floor again.
"Yeah..." He moved cautiously so as not to put pressure on his head or the IV.
"Alright." He heard her get to her feet and adjust her shoulder holster. "I'll see you later. Hurry up and get better so I can get away from that lousy desk."
"Sure...," he murmured, already more than half asleep.
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Kristal coughed and pushed away the coffee cup. "What is that?"
"Chai." The little Philapino plainclothesman at the desk next to hers grinned.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Did Monroe tell you to give me that because I messed up his visible mutant minority?"
Santo Mendoza looked confused. "No. You asked for tea, so I brought you my favorite kind."
She sighed and set her pen down, then got up and went to where the teapot steamed happily next to the coffeemaker.
"Hey, how's our resident marble goddess?" Ray smirked at her over the rim of his '#1 cop' coffee mug.
She looked at him like he'd just grown another head.
He grinned and held up that day's paper, which showed a picture of her working the police line, shirt and jacket marked with blood. The headline read 'Resident Marble Goddess Keeps The Peace'.
Kristal poured her tea and went back to her desk.
"Sheesh," said Ray behind her. "What a &$# ice queen."
"How would you like it if I called you the resident donut belly?" asked his partner.
Kristal set her cup down on the Calgary Tower coaster, her eyes already glued to the case file she'd been reading as an argument broke out by the coffeepot.
"Nacht!" bellowed Monroe.
"Yeah?" she said without looking up.
He grumbled and flopped into the chair on the other side of her desk. "How's Quade?"
She lifted her eyes from the report. "Complaining, but still sleeping a lot."
"Did you get him the flowers?" He twiddled with the miniature toys on the desk, trying to stand the dinosaur pencil topper on Odie's ears.
"Yeah." She dug the change out of her pocket and pushed it toward him. "He didn't like them."
Monroe gave up stacking the toys and grinned. "That's good."
Then he frowned. "What're you doing?"
"Looking at the O'Brien file," she said, resisting the urge to start reading again.
"That kid that disappeared without a trace?" He turned Odie over and tapped his ears on the desktop, scowling thoughtfully.
"Four years ago. Yes. I was wondering if there was a link to that case in Alberta."
"What happened there?" He leaned forward, dark eyes keen.
"Another disappearance." She pulled out the copy she'd had faxed to her that morning. "Caucasian female, twenty one years old. Vanished without a trace while she was hiking a well-traveled trail."
"Name?" He rubbed his chin, staring into space.
"Patrece Cole. Middle-class background with no criminal activity anywhere in the family. No grudges or obsessed coworkers..."
"Any history of X gene-related mutation?"
"None." She resisted the urge to scowl.
"Would've shown up before twenty one, anyway." He sighed and tossed the toy down onto the desk. "Have you found any links?"
"Only the totality of the disappearance." She gathered Odie, Garfield, and the dinosaur and shut them safely in the top drawer. Quade would throw a fit if she lost the things. "The computer pulled up another case in the States while I was cross-referencing. One where the subject vanished right in front of witnesses."
"Another kid?" Monroe turned to bark a string of profanity at the two by the coffeepot, then glanced at Mendoza, who was regarding him wryly. "What?"
The small plainclothesman stood up, displaying a spreading chai stain on the front of his worn denim jacket.
"Oops." Monroe blinked. "I'll get the bill."
"It's okay. It goes in the wash like everything else." Mendoza set his empty cup down and headed for the bathroom.
"No. This one was a costumed criminal," said Kristal. "He vanished nearly two years ago."
"Eh?" Monroe turned to stare at her blankly, then blinked and nodded. "Oh yeah. Bullseye. I still think someone made him disappear on purpose."
Kristal shrugged. "I'd need you to sign the forms to get a copy of that file."
"Yeah. Send them to my desk. I want to see what you can piece together." Monroe stood up with a sigh and counted the money in his hand. "Maybe we can actually find somebody."
"Maybe." Kristal eyed the counting suspiciously.
Monroe offered her the money. "You want to run to Tim Horton's and get me some Timbits and some real coffee?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I know yer not an office girl," he said, still holding it out. "But you're the only one that ever brings me back a whole box of 'bits. And there's enough there to get you something."
She took it with a sigh, then closed the files and locked them in a drawer.
"Don't know why you always have to make hard copies." Monroe frowned, shooting an irritated glower toward the coffeemaker.
"The computer monitor's too bright." She shoved the money into the pocket of her beige cords as she stood, then adjusted her holster. "I see the afterimage for hours."
"Why didn't you say anything?" He looked concerned.
"You never asked." She pulled on the old tan suit jacket that had been hanging over the back of her chair, ignoring the look he gave her. She could hear him bellowing at Ray as she left the room.
3
Kristal frowned into the rearview mirror at the blue sedan that honked at her for stopping at the yellow light, then raised one eyebrow and memorized the license number as it passed her and roared triumphantly through the intersection. She was reaching for the radio to report the incident when the fragrant vibes coming from the cup of mulled cider finally broke through her resolve and she picked it up instead, taking an appreciative whiff before opening her mouth to sip.
Something slammed into the hood of her car.
The cider went flying as she grabbed for her gun, then froze in shock.
Depthless black eyes gazed back at her from the other side of the cracked windshield.
Then a big hand punched through the broken glass and seized the front of her jacket, dragging her out of the car and tossing her aside.
She hit the asphalt rolling and leaped to her feet in time to see a huge black foot crush the unmarked cruiser to scrap.
Kristal's mouth fell open as her eyes followed the leg attached to the foot and she found herself gawking at a fourteen foot tall monster with glowing red eyes and skin as black as tar.
"Are you hurt?" a deep voice demanded.
Still gaping, she turned and came face to face with something out of a guilty Catholic's nightmare.
"No," she said slowly, taking in the being's dark golden skin, long pointed ears, massive black wings, and paw-like feet. "I'm pretty tough... What about you? You hit the car hard enough to..." She realized what she was going to say and blinked. "Crush the engine?"
"I'm good." It...he turned away and poised on his toes, ears perking forward as he scowled thoughtfully at the behemoth, which seemed to be rubbernecking.
Kristal raised an eyebrow as she noticed the tail that ended the mane of long black hair that ran down her unexpected rescuer's back. "Er... What is that thing? And what are you?"
"Djin and Wüste Fee," he responded absently.
"And you crushed my cruiser why?"
"It threw me." He turned those black eyes toward her again.
"Why?"
"I sent fire in its face."
"Why?"
"Because it has my friend." The muscular chest flexed as the huge wings unfurled.
Kristal's eyes snapped upward again and then widened as she caught sight of the dark-haired woman who had just managed to squirm free of the dazed giant's fist. "She's going to jump!"
The blast of wind from the Wüste Fee's liftoff made her stagger sideways a couple of feet. She watched him rocket upward and catch his friend in midair, then yelled and emptied her gun into the djin's leg as it roared and swatted them through the wall of a building.
"Freeze! Police!" Even as she voiced the familiar warcry she knew how stupid it sounded.
The massive head turned toward her and she yanked the other clip out of her pocket, nearly dropping it as it caught on something.
There was a sudden roar and rush of flame and she cried out in pain as bullets spanged away in all directions. Then powerful arms wrapped around her and the fire was muted.
She opened her eyes and stared up into the Wüste Fee's concerned face.
"What?" she managed.
"The fire vill stop soon." He pushed slightly singed hair away from her face, the hair on the back of his wrists clinging to her skin like a caress.
"It breaths fire?" She looked at the melted mess that had been a good gun and threw it down in disgust, flinching as a last bullet shot free.
"Ja." He peered over the shelter of his wings, then glanced down in surprise. "Cold hands."
"Yeah, I know." She pushed against him. "Come on, we have to stop that thing before it kills someone."
"I vill take you to a safe place; to Patrece." He lowered his wings but kept them half furled.
"No!" She shoved away with all her strength, wincing as blisters broke on her hands. "It's my job to protect the people of this city!" She reached for her badge and felt the wallet crumble to ash.
His only reply was to slam into her and roll over and over as the djin took a stomp at them.
She gave an inarticulate growl and slugged him in the jaw as hard as she could, then yelped and shook her hand.
He set her free, face full of respect. "Okay. Vhere are the more city guards?"
"As far from this as possible, I hope," she said, though she could hear sirens in the distance as she stood up.
His brow quirked in confusion. "You don't vant help?"
"They can't help against that thing." She watched the djin bellow in rage at its reflection and put its fist through a window. "They're all normal."
His ears went back in surprise. "Like Patrece?"
It was the second time he'd said the name, and this time it clicked. "Patrece Cole?"
"Ja. And I am Sonneherz." He examined the underside of one wrist, wriggling his thin fingers.
"Detective Kristal Nacht." She scoped the area for weapons, glad to see that everyone had had the brains to clear out.
"Crystal night?" He shot her a look.
"Night of broken glass. Night of broken dreams." She turned away to pick up an unidentified club-shaped piece of broken car, hoping he couldn't hear the catch in her voice.
"You have vings."
She froze, face going totally still. "No."
"Ja," he said puzzledly, touching them with a gentle claw.
"Don't touch me." She moved away from him, pulling off the remains of her shirt and tying it over her chest to prevent any embarrassment. "Now what's that thing's weak point?"
"The jewel on its forehead," he said, still giving her a confused look.
"Okay." She dove out of the way of another gout of flame, then cursed and tried to wave off the helicopter that came and hovered over the djin's head.
Sonneherz launched himself toward the chopper, his spread wings deflecting most of the fire the angry monster sent toward it. Then he went flying as the djin threw another punch.
The helicopter arched away, one of the cops on board sending Kristal a thumbs up as he leaned from the cockpit.
"Detective?" boomed Sonneherz, hovering above her.
She glanced up, scowling. "I'll distract him. You take him down."
"She." He nodded and flapped upward.
"She?" Kristal looked again. "Great, the bride of King Kong."
Shooting a quick but fervent prayer Heavenward, she waited till the djin turned to roar at a distant car horn, then leaped to her feet and charged toward it.
It spun toward her, spewing flame, and she ducked and rolled in the manner prescribed for field drills before bounding to her feet again and continuing forward.
A huge fist swung at her and she dodged, only to be caught broadside by the other one.
She gasped and clung to it, digging her nails into the horny hide as she felt herself lifted into the air.
Struggling for breath and feeling her ribs scream in pain, she raised her head and came eye to flaming eye with her opponent.
It snarled, exposing teeth like serrated fence posts, then shook the hand she hung from.
Kristal gritted her teeth, feeling her secret spread out as she held on with everything she had.
There was a blast of sulfur-smelling wind as the djin gave another roar of rage, then the fingers of its free hand seized her around the waist in a crushing grip.
She cried out, clinging with arms and wings as she twisted and kicked at her attacker. It felt like her guts were being crushed...
Both massive black hands jerked open. There was a steam-whistle howl of agony that drowned out her own scream of pain.
Then she was falling.
Something cradled her. Soft hair brushed her face.
Then darkness stole away her awareness.
4
"Look at this." Ken stared around at the flaming piles of whatever-the-heck-it-was, his stubbly face slightly green from the overpowering sulfur stink. "Jake, how could anyone…?"
"She made it through," said Jake Holiwell firmly, though his eyes were suspiciously bright. "Come on, let's get in there before the PFD shows up and gets in the way."
Ken shot a look over his shoulder toward where the first fire truck was groaning to a halt, then turned and plunged into a clear path that seemed to lead through the rubble.
"Someone over there on that car." Jake breathed into his sleeve, eyes squinting through the heat shimmer.
Ken nodded and switched direction, trying to suppress a cough.
The person ahead of them turned at their approach, revealing the soot-streaked, partially veiled face of a young woman.
"Excuse me," said Ken as they reached her and he automatically flashed his badge. "Have you seen a woman with blue…uh, light brown hair around here anywhere?"
"Do you mean Detective Nacht?" The girl pushed back the roughly woven scarf that had been wrapped around her head and mouth, releasing brown hair that was damp from the heat.
"Yes." Ken nodded, then quirked an eyebrow as he noticed that she was dressed like she'd come off the set of 'Dune'. All that was missing was the loose brown robe.
"My friend brought her into that bus to rest after they destroyed the djin." She looked at them thoughtfully, one corner of her mouth turning up slightly.
"Rest?" Jake frowned in concern and stopped flipping his wallet open and closed. "Is she hurt?"
"Burned. Bruised pretty badly, and I think she has broken ribs." She slid down the back window of the car and crouched on the trunk. "What is today?"
Ken stopped and turned slightly as Jake replied.
The girl's face went wistful. "Nearly a year. Could I use a cell phone later? I need to call my parents."
"Where are you from?" Jake shook out a small flame that had started on his pant leg.
"Edmonton, Alberta, Canada." She gave them a half-smile. "My name is Patrece Cole."
"Cole…." Jake glanced at Ken.
"I bet that's some story," said Ken cautiously, afraid that she'd want to tell it right then, but she only nodded and jumped off the car.
"Come on and see your friend," she said, then calmly walked through a pile of the burning debris.
"I want boots like that." Ken followed, impressed despite his worry for Kristal.
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Kristal moved slightly, feeling the robe Patrece had lent her slide easily over the vinyl of the seats Sonneherz had ripped off the floor of the tipped-over bus to make a bed for her.
"Shh," rumbled his deep voice. "Be still."
"Do you hear the sirens yet?" She thought she did, but her ears were still ringing from the knocking she'd gotten in the fight.
"Yes. They are close." She felt his palm on her blistered forehead. "Are you comfortable?"
"No, but I'm alright." She blinked behind the bandage over her eyes, then closed them with a slight groan.
"Two men are coming." She heard the restless rustling of wings.
"What do they look like?" Kristal pressed one shoulder against the side of her bed, needing the contact to feel grounded.
"Strong. Vone is taller, vith black hair. The other is…shorter? Shorter, vith hair the colour of iron left outside."
"Ken and Jake." She nearly whimpered in relief, then snorted softly as she pictured their faces as they were greeted by a loincloth-clad gargoyle.
She heard Sonneherz move away from her and murmur softly in his own language, then heard Patrece's muted reply.
"Wow!" came Ken's shocked voice.
"He's human," said Patrece defensively.
"Okay," said Ken apologetically. "I just hadn't realized that was wings. Thought you were wearing some kind of cloak."
Then he was standing beside her bed, his breath catching in his throat. "Crap, Kris, you look like hell."
She chuckled without smiling, not eager to break anymore blisters. "Monroe screaming yet?"
"No," he said gruffly. "He's going around looking worried sick."
She swallowed, remembering other times she'd seen that look on the Captain's face. Times when cops had been injured or killed. "I'm going to be okay."
"Yeah." She heard the brave smile in his voice. "So what hurts?"
"Second degree burns, flash-blinded eyes, slight concussion, broken ribs, possible internal injuries, stomped-on ego…." She stopped and quirked a slight grin. "Quade's never gonna let me live this down. Fighting a giant, fire-breathing monkey woman."
"Woman?" came Jake's unbelieving voice from near the opening Sonneherz had torn in the bus roof.
"Yes. It was female," said Patrece. "Not a woman, though. Djin are created weapons, more like robots."
"They smell like hell," said Jake soberly. "I'm glad I signed on with Jesus. If I never see any more fire and brimstone it'll be too soon."
"Be glad we weren't fighting a dragon when we came through that portal." Patrece sounded amused.
"The EMT's should be getting through soon," said Ken, touching Kristal's shoulder gently.
"Yeah." She swallowed and clenched her hands.
"What's wrong?" The alarm in his voice caused the others to stop talking.
"I'm scared," she admitted, her voice a choked whisper.
"Scared?" She heard the frown in the word. "What are you afraid of, Kris?" Then, with alarm. "Can you feel your feet?"
"Not that." She shivered, praying. "Ken, can't you just take me home? I can heal just as well there as I could at the hospital."
"No way," he said firmly.
"Sheesh, Kris, you never hit me as someone who'd be afraid of hospitals," said Jake, who had a well-publicized terror of the places.
"I'm not," she whispered, feeling tears soak into the bandage over her eyes. "I just don't want to go."
"You von't, then," said Sonneherz firmly.
"Stay out of this," Ken told him. "Kris, don't be stupid. You need medical attention."
"But they'll look at me!" she said, crying in earnest now.
"Oh crud," came Jake's dismayed gasp.
"Kris, help me understand what you're worried about," said Ken gently, touching her shoulder again.
Kristal squeezed her eyes shut and prayed harder as Patrece barked something in Sonneherz's language and a scuffling broke out.
"Don't do that," said Jake, sounding exasperated. "It's called assaulting a police officer, and you go to jail for it."
"She doesn't vant to go to a hospital," responded Sonneherz, his voice still a calm rumble.
"Look, get out of the way so I can get to my friend," growled Ken.
"Friends protect those they love," said Sonneherz. "They don't make them cry."
"Sonneherz, things are different here," said Patrece.
"She is like me," said the desert fairy, a hint of sadness coming into his voice. "Ve fought together. Now she is afraid and I can't help her?"
"Like you…?" There was a quick step next to her bed, then a hand gently pushed open the robe and touched her shoulder. "Oh, Kris."
She sniffed and gulped tears, feeling her dreams break and shatter again as Ken lifted her gently to look closer.
"What is it?" asked Jake softly.
"Wings," said Ken. "Pretty little blue wings. Kris, this is nothing to be ashamed of."
"You try living a normal life with superhero groupies following you around!" she snapped.
The bed creaked as he pulled it open and sat next to her, leaning her against him and putting his arms around her.
"Shh." He rocked her gently as she cried. "We'll make sure you see Dobranski; that doctor that does the commercials for X gene awareness. I've heard he's really good with client confidentiality."
"What about his staff?" She hissed through her teeth as more blisters broke and Ken lay her back down, pulling the robe closed again.
"He is his staff. The guy divides into two or three copies. No one'll know your secret, Kris."
She sighed and closed her eyes, hearing Patrece ask if they were going to press charges.
"No," said Jake. "I'd've done worse than catch him by the arm and pull him away. You taking the bus home?"
"No. We'll fly."
"He can lift you?"
"He could lift this bus."
"Kris?" Ken touched her shoulder. "Is that why you changed your name when Monroe first joined the department? To get away from the X fans?"
"Yeah." She heard the sirens now.
"I'm sorry."
"Why? Monroe's the only one in the department, and he's not that bad."
"For not realizing what a pain all that hype is. Jake and I'll make sure it gets toned down."
"Thanks," she murmured, starting to fade out.
"Leave her covered till we get to her doctor," she half-heard Jake say. "It's against her beliefs to have strange guys look at her."
Smiling, she trusted and slept.
Epilogue
"Trying to show me up," muttered Quade without looking away from the computer screen.
"You guys still arguing about that? It's been nearly two weeks," said Mendoza as he sat back with his feet on his desk, sipping chai and holding his youngest son.
"Sure. Why not?" Quade grinned.
"My line." Kristal glanced at him.
He grinned and reached for the baby.
Kristal set her notebook down. "It would've been nice if someone'd let us know Bullseye was back."
"You still messing with classified X-Men stuff?" Monroe stopped on his way to see the little Mendoza to frown at her.
"No." She flipped the book shut and stuck it in her pocket.
"Good girl." He turned away to offer the baby a donut.
Kristal reached for the newspaper, frowning as she saw a disgruntled-looking Wolverine and Sabertooth on the front page. 'Edmonton Branch of X-Men Goes Home After Investigating Exploding Giant.' "It's been two weeks. We need new news."
"We've got a hostage situation over in the Peach on the Beach," called the dispatcher.
"Nacht, you and Murphy take care of that." Monroe triumphantly acquired the sticky-fingered little one.
"Back to the daily grind." Quade grabbed the phone and called for backup units while Kristal shrugged into her jacket and headed for the door.
"Hey, Roy, a hero's work is never done," said Mendoza with a grin.
Quade shot him a look, but then grinned and headed after his partner.
"Yup. Yippee ki yay, muchacho."