CHAPTER 10:
DOWNTIME
Guest Cast: Bella Donna Boudreaux: Madison Pettis
Stahr Howlett: Caylee Corwan
Finding Graydon and his cave weren't easy as she assumed. Cameron took over public appearances, news shows, Jimmy Fallon, and more. While Graydon has time, deep in the shadows, to plan and conspire like the snake he is.
Tired from school and hunting for her brother's ghost, Lyla decided that Saturday was her day off. Of course, she's in charge of Malakai Winters, the thorn in her side. Due to the fact Emma and Sebastian Shaw, the Black Bishop, had a date night. Her time to decompress.
Once again, Lyla sat on Malakai's bed, waiting as patiently as possible while the Princess put on her make-up.
Finally, Malakai stepped out of the bathroom. Her saturated curly hair framed her soft face. Her kind blue eyes flicked up to Lyla, saying something. Lyla didn't hear a single word as she was too busy admiring the strapless dress pressed against each curve of Malaki's body.
She hated how gorgeous Malakai was. Beautiful enough that she couldn't remove her gaze from her.
Each day filled itself with arguments and a few fistfights. Malakai wanted to go out tonight, but she was challenged to keep an eye on the Princess in case danger loomed around. They worked together in search of Graydon.
Going out to a party wasn't her idea of a good time. Her powers made her nervous even though she had control. What if it becomes too much for her to handle? She isn't in the mood to deal with other people's personalities.
Putting her diamond earring in the right ear, Malakai blinked at Lyla, "What?"
"Waitin' for yah," A smirk pulled on the side of her mouth. She finished exploring Malakai's body to get up from the bed. "Here."
She pulled her hand out of her black jean jacket to hand Mali a chrome necklace. The necklace laced itself around her fingers. On the front was a crown for a princess. On the other side, the initials HC represented the Hellfire Club.
Stepping forward, Malakai took the chain, "Why do I need this?"
Lyla shoved her hands back in her pockets, "Yah don't have yah brand yet, and we're goin' out in public."
Malakai said, "Where's your brand?"
"Ah, heal. Ah ain' got a brand." She turned her back to her, "Ah have a ring."
On their way out to the hall, Mali grabbed her white cropped jean jacket, "Yah over dressed," Lyla mumbled.
"You didn't tell me where we are going," Malakai huffed.
"Hurry the fuck up. We're late," Lyla sneered.
She stopped walking and turned her gaze over her shoulder. Malakai stood still, her eyes and mouth wide open; hands fists by her side.
"I don't know who you think you are, talking to—"
She was silenced by Lyla's finger pressed against her full lips, "Ah am sorry," heat rose to her cheeks. Quick, she shoved her hand back in the warmth of her pocket, "We're meetin' up with Uriel at the Underground."
Puzzled, Mali fell in step with Lyla, "Underground?"
"Yeah, now stop askin' questions before Ah start yellin' again."
SOUNDTRACK: Party in my Head by Pain
On the way down a set of graffiti steps, she ran her hand against the brick wall. Her focus is on the bouncer, Guido. LED lights bounced off his bald head straight into her eyes. He started working for the Morlocks, a group of mutants who created a safe space for unwanted mutants, a bit before she left the Inner Circle. She didn't care if he didn't recognize her. Though, when he brought up her mutant mark, she snarled, refusing his request.
For the readers who don't know, a mutant mark is what it sounds like. It's either a tattoo or brand showing those in the community who you are, a mutant. Magneto branded the twins years before they could consent. The Inner Circle asked her to commit to them. She refused. Getting a brand on the back of the neck isn't fun, let alone doing it twice.
She was walking past the giant when he grabbed her wrist and dragged her back.
"Listen here, girly," He got in her face, "show me yur mark or yur ain' gettin' in."
Wanda ripped herself from him, "Touch me again, and I will break your neck." She didn't wait for his response, heading past him thanks to the music hypnotizing her forward. Tonight's the night to let loose. Tomorrow is scheduled for recovery.
At the bar, she smiled at the young bartender, Marrow. The girl joined up with the Morlocks at the age of 10 due to her parent's death.
Gloving her boned hands, Marrow hummed, "pretty packed tonight."
Wanda turned to the far back wall of the club. The DJ set up behind a steel prison door; head banged to the current song pumping throughout the club. As if it were the heart pumping blood through the body.
"Your hunk of a boyfriend and Rogue's are upstairs," Marrow said, pushing the drink toward Wanda.
Of course. What on earth was she thinking?
She wanted time alone, away from the current mess at home. It's her fault for choosing the one club where all mutants visit for downtime and feel accepted. Of course, all the mutants she wanted to avoid were here.
In thanks, Wanda took her dirty martini and headed toward the stairs. The upper level wasn't anything fancy. It was a simple space for mutant royalty, like Magneto's Acolytes, the Brotherhood, and the Inner Circle. She happens to be part of all three.
As she made her way to the table set up, the floor under her feet was a one-way Plexiglas. They could see what was happening below, but those below couldn't see above. Pretty inventive on Calisto's part.
She stopped in her tracks. Smoke came from her ears. Her body was heating against her will.
In his infamous striped blue and white shorts and cropped mesh shirt, some bitch ran her hands over his exposed abs. Her legs draped between his, giggling at something he said, but John didn't mind her as he talked to Remy.
Stahr, Logan's daughter, saw her first and stabbed an elbow into his ribs, "Wanda, Hey!"
John removed the girl from him, greeting Wanda with a smile.
Remy glanced over the couch, waving at her. Beside him sat Bella Donna Boudreaux, the blight of Rogue's existence.
Faking a genuine smile, she stepped around the couch for them to see her. Empty shot glasses and purple powder scatter around the glass coffee table. Wanda frowned. Remy shouldn't allow drugs when John's recovering. Hell, none of them should.
She shoved her way between Bella, the New Orleans Assassins Guild's Princess, and Remy.
"Rogue know you're in town?"
Remy placed his arm over the couch, "We ain' co-dependent of each other."
Wanda sipped her martini, "You know about the school shooting?"
Remy nodded, "Oui."
Wanda said, "And you know she could've lost Tabs today?"
Remy grabbed his beer, "Oui."
"Then you know, she could use your company."
Bella huffed and tossed her wavy hair over her bare shoulder, "Then, why didn't Anna come out?"
Wanda locked eyes with John, "She wasn't in the mood for pretend." Bella opened her up to speak when Wanda continued, "Before you say something stupid, you aren't in their relationship, so stay out of it?"
Lyla mumbled a few curse words as she slammed the car door.
Uriel Worthington leaned his strong shoulder against the brick of the abandoned place. He chewed on a piece of gum. The busy life of the Inner Circle caused Mali's social life to plumate. She and the Dark Prince haven't exchanged two words with one another.
He, Uriel, is an odd aesthetic for the white court of the Circle. Unlike the rest, he prefers black attire. His extensive black wings could play a role. When taking a closer look, the wings' veins are a scarlet red, like the color of blood. His eyes were void of all color, hypnotizing.
Uriel pushed his shaggy black hair from the brim of his eyelashes, "Your little princess has a staring problem."
Mali's gaze traveled from his jean jacket to his eyes. Her cheeks were a rosy pink.
Lyla scoffed, "Ah, know."
They talk about her as if she isn't standing between them.
Ripping her wrist from Lyla's grip, she hugged herself. New York's air is a bit nippy compared to Seattle.
"You have your brand?"
With a blank expression, Mali glanced at Lyla, waiting for her to answer or translate. As if Uriel spoke in a different language.
"He's not talkin' to me," Lyla pulled a piece of gum from her destroyed black jeans.
With a staring problem brought up by Uriel, Mali bit her lip. Her gaze roamed over Lyla. An outfit as simple as destroyed jeans, an oversized black t-shirt, and a deep gray oversized cashmere sweater allowed dirty thoughts to wander her mind.
Lyla readjusted her NY black baseball cap, snorting, "He waitin' on yah to respond."
Mali blinked, then shoved a middle finger in her face.
Her attention focused on Uriel, "No. I—"
Uriel's back greeted her, "I don't care anymore, Princess."
These two are a piece of work.
On their way down the graffiti steps, Mali smiled at the bouncer. A rather large man.
He took her by the wrist, pulling her back into his line of sight.
Close to the loud and hypnotizing music, Mali didn't get to hear his issue or what Lyla said when she stepped up to the large man. Sure, Lyla is as tall as a skyscraper. But this man is not just tall but large in muscular stature.
Mali stood straight up; her face blanked when their hands connected. A modest case of intertwined pinkies. A simple reassurance that Lyla has her back. Eye contact would do, or a whisper. Yet, Lyla narrowed her eyes toward the bouncer and ushered her inside the catacombs.
Maybe she could push her luck and intertwine their hands thoroughly.
She shook her head at the stupid thought.
Once inside, her nose scrunched.
When she thinks of a club, the first that comes to mind is women dressed slutty, dance music, neon lights, and a packed bar. No room for heavy rock and metal.
From behind, Lyla's hand slid down to the small of her back, "There a problem Princess?"
Mali hid her disappointment when Lyla's hand retracted, "No, all good."
Their eyes connected to the upper level of the club. Some members of Lord Magneto stared at them. Her stomach churned.
Uriel stepped on the other side of her, "Here."
Mali glanced at the baggy between Uriel's nimble fingers. An odd shine of purple powder bounced off the lights. Before she could ask what it was, Lyla's slapped it out of her field of view.
"Are yah out of yah mind?!"
"What?" He shrugged, "it seems to work well."
Uriel glanced at the DJ booth where Pyro hung off the bars, bopping up and down. His tongue hung out of his mouth, trying to catch drinks.
Lyla rolled her eyes, "Not for her."
"Fine." Uriel backed off.
SOUNDTRACK: Grind Teeth by Make Them Suffer
Outside, Wanda's back rested against the cool brick wall. A lone cigarette burned halfway to her fingers. She thought she was rid of the habit or addiction. Somehow, addictions have a way of creeping back into your life without warning. Reasons she isn't haven't been too hard on John.
But this isn't about them.
It's about Remy, who stepped beside her with a fresh cigarette between his lips. Drunk? No, not yet she can't smell it on him.
She wished he hadn't followed her out here. Wanda wanted a fun night away from the constant angst in her life. Trouble seems to follow her wherever she goes.
"Whatever you have to say to convince of anything, save it." She mumbled.
He lit his smoke but stopped when a taxi pulled up before them.
Wanda refuses to talk about his relationship. Instead, she found someone else to do it.
Realizing who was in the cab, he cursed her.
She shrugged, "Your love life isn't my business. When she needs me, I'll be inside."
Patting him on the shoulder and blessing him with a hint of prayer, she made her way inside, avoiding the nuclear bomb about to go off.
Wanda couldn't help but laugh. My, how she loves chaos.
She received a text declaring Bella Donna was in town. Unbothered and unimportant, she ignored it. The New Orleans Guilds never stay in New Orleans. Bella donna paying to New York wasn't her concern until Wanda mentioned Remy and Satan's spawn went to the Underground together. Typically, Rogue isn't the jealous type since Cody. Only one person can bring to such a side in her, and that's the devil's daughter, Bella Donna Boudreaux.
Sneaky and manipulative. Since Rogue entered the picture, the marriage deal has been off the table forever. Bella donna didn't care. She will do anything to get Remy back under her influence. She was not going to happen, not on her watch.
"Chere!" Remy shouted. She wasn't sure if it was out of excitement or surprise for getting caught up.
Thanks to her black platform boots, she reached his eyes sight without craning her neck. She poked a harsh finger into his pec, "Don't yah chere me Cajun!"
A hint of joy washed over his dangerous crimson on-onyx back eyes. He loved their arguments because the make-up sex was mind-boggling. It goes like, fight, the make-up, she forgets why they were angry in the first place, and then they go back to business as usual.
Not this time.
He seems to forget one factor, Bella Donna Boudreaux.
"Ah, see yah in town."
Remy put his dark smoke in his pocket, "I had a job at one of the museums downtown." He ran a hand through his hair, "Thought I'd come here and say bonjour to Cal and the gang."
She crossed her arms, not believing his story, but she let him talk.
Once he was finished, she hummed, "uh-huh. What 'bout Bella?"
He lazily shrugged, "Guild business."
Speaking of guild business, Bella walked outside, hips swaying. Not in the mood after today to cause a scene. Rogue forced herself not to bash the girl's head against the brick wall.
"Rogue!" Bella bounced over, "Wasn't expectin' y' Cherie."
Rogue's nostrils flared but kept it together: "Heard the club was lively t'night, thought Ah'd come and see for me."
"Oh," slithering beside Remy, Bella said, "Y' powers ain' a hindrance for y'?"
Rogue's glare snapped to Remy, who looked elsewhere.
The only way the bitch could know about her powers and her improvement had to come from Remy. The night's question is, how much do they talk about her behind her back?
"My powers are fine; thanks for the concerns, shugah." Rogue gave her a taut smile.
Bouncing on her tippy-toes, Bella kissed Remy on the cheek, then waved down a taxi, "I must go; papa needs me back in N'Orleans tomorrow."
Out of sight and mind, Rogue turned to Remy, "Ah, don't wanna hear the damned excuses. When yah see her, keep my name out yah mouth."
She shoved past him.
He chased after her, "Chere, Anna, it ain' like that."
Down the stairs, she showed her Brotherhood brand hidden behind her ear. Guido let her in, and Remy's chase continued. Catching her wrist, he twirled her to look at him.
"It ain' what y' think it is."
Rogue shook her head, "Ah can't tell yah who to see and meet with; we learned that ain' healthy for us." She took a deep breath, then sighed it out by saying, "Ah thought yah had the decency to tell me so Ah can mentally prepare. But Ah had to hear it from somewhere else's lips."
"Anna…"
She slipped out of his touch, "Ah ain' in the mood to argue. T'night, respect my wishes by leavin' me be."
Before he could say more, she disappeared into the crowd.
"It's alright, mate, she'll come around tomorrow," John said, handing Remy a drink.
Stahr lay on Lyla's lap. Her head bopped to the current heartbeat of the music pumping throughout the room. Lyla's foot tapped along, mouthing the words to the song. Both in complete bliss and peace. She wondered if they took the purple substance Uriel tried handing off to her earlier.
Mali doesn't understand.
Who goes to a club to sit and listen to Rock music?
That's what a concert's for, no?
"Does she always have a staring problem?" Stahr's voice, though rough, was pure and sexy. Mali could get lost in her words with ease. She, Stahr, is fastidious when speaking. She only speaks when necessary and benefits her.
Guess she has a type reader.
Lyla glanced at her, "What?"
Mali slumped into the couch, feeling like Lyla was a broken record. Constantly asking her what or why. Short and to the point. Like Stahr.
"I don't understand. Why do you attend this club when you want entertainment?" She started, "You haven't gotten up to dance."
Uriel, out of nowhere, pushed himself beside her. His hair was no longer curly, thanks to the pool of sweat slipping down his forehead. A blush crept to her ears upon noticing he was missing his jacket and shirt.
Though, it disappeared when he opened his mouth, "What are ya complain' bout now, Princess?" He asked lazily, near slurring.
"She doesn't like the music selection," Stahr stated.
"Then change it; management works for us."
Lyla pushed off the couch, stretching her back, "Come on."
Mali blinked.
"come on, or don't yah wanna dance?" Lyla mumbled.
Did Lyla ask her to dance? Were they all high? Or was she?
"Y-you're gonna dance with me?"
Stahr snorted, "Lyla doesn't dance." Sitting up, she tilts her head to the side, "Do ya know how to dance?"
Lyla was to respond when Stahr shook her head, "You know what? I think I am in the same boat as her. Let's go."
The three of them, in shock, asked, "You will?"
"Oddly enough, I am in the mood to dance."
Stahr shrugged off her leather jacket. Her back and shoulder muscles shined under the anointed white lights strobing around the room. Mali couldn't help but stare. Are all of Lyla's friends hot, or is she just wishing they were?
"Ya starin' again," Stahr whistled to get Mali's attention.
With an embarrassing chirp, Mali looked away. She followed Stahr down the back stairs toward the DJ booth when she asked, "Are all of Lyla's friends hot?"
A ghost of a smirk appeared on Stahr's lips, "I don't really pay attention. Why? Tryin' to ask one of them out?"
Mali hasn't thought about dating since her arrival in New York. Father said dating is nothing but a distraction from your goals. She's starting to understand what he meant. The gods built each member of the Inner Circle like a Roman statue.
"No, not really."
"Well, if you are, I'd suggest you learn to be bold, or the Circle will eat you whole." She dipped behind the door leading to the DJ booth, but Mali stayed on the other side. She didn't want to offend the lovely DJ.
The music changes broth new life and energy to the place. As the lights were brighter, more people crowded the dance floor, shouting and dancing, not just bopping their heads and swaying. A few moments elapsed, and Stahr reached through the door and grabbed hold of her hand.
SOUNDTRACK: I Was Made for Lovin' You by Oliver Heldens
Would you look at that reader? Malakai had a good idea for once.
The room exploded with life. Nearly everyone was on the dance floor, having the time of their lives. The drugs and alcohol could be a little indicator, but Calisto doesn't seem to mind the music change.
Speaking of the White Princess, she was the center of attention, as if a spotlight were on her. Like she was the main character in a movie. Being in her little world, she didn't notice some random guy slither his way behind her—their movements in time with one another.
Stahr leaned over to Malakai, whispering something Lyla couldn't make out.
Her eyes, Mali's, flicked over Lyla. A mischievous grin crawled on her face. Her small hands grabbed onto the guy's, wrapping them around her torso as she buried herself against him.
Lyla's grip on the railing tightened.
Why does she care?
Malakai Winters is a thorn in her side. A pesky mosquito constantly buzzed in her ear. An ant under her boots. So, why does it bother her some random guy overstepped and danced with her—the Princess?
"Conquest for the night?"
It was only a matter of time before Rogue showed face. Wanda snitched. Rogue, the jealous type, couldn't handle the business between two guilds. Making everything about herself, she didn't think it through. Remy never goes out of his way to see Bella Donna Boudreaux. Their plans were annulled. Done. Rogue's dramatic and insecure. Plain and simple.
Grow up, she said to herself.
"No, not even close." Malakai didn't seem like any girl she'd sleep with. It's not like she's fragile or couldn't handle the rejection. Lyla couldn't do such a thing to her. Why? Still trying to figure it out, reader.
Using her forearm to lean on, Rogue glanced down at Malakai, "She's cute."
Lyla nodded, "She is."
"So, what are yah waitin' for?"
Heat burned in her chest like anger, "Emma."
Shaking her head with her brows furrowed, Rogue asked, "What do yah mean?"
"She's the white Princess. Emma told me to train her."
Rogue snorted, "Hasn't stopped yah before, or do yah remember Chloe?"
Lyla mumbled a yes.
Chloe-Ashley Lindell.
A cheerleader back in her hometown and one of the popular girls in school. Well, she struggled in math and couldn't cheer if she didn't get her grade up. Desperate, she came to Lyla asking for a tutor. Of course, Lyla said yes, since she was paying. What shocked the hell out of her was the fact they had slept with each other more than once. How it happened, she wasn't sure but didn't complain. It was a good time and the only time she enjoyed school. Chloe told her about her powers and what she could do and told her cheer friends all about it. Let's say, reader, she was a fan amongst the ladies by the end of the first year.
Tired of the fake trip down memory lane, Lyla crossed her arms, "what do yah want, Anna-Marie?"
Lyla isn't in the mood to play sister. That's Wanda's 24/7 hour job.
"Can we not have a normal conversation?"
Lyla gave her a pointed look, unfazed by the manipulation.
"Is Gambit cheatin' on me?"
See, wasn't that easier than pretending?
"How should Ah know? Ain' yah his girlfriend?"
Rogue's glance moved to her feet as she rubbed her gloveless hands.
She was a bit harsh earlier. Lyla understands why Rogue's insecure. Her powers. After Cody, she told herself she wouldn't get close to anyone else. Afraid of herself and what she could do. Remy wiggled his way in, but she was nervous he'd leave. Even now, with her powers under her control.
Lyla's powers are a bit similar, understand? Yes, she and Rogue have their issues, plenty. One thing is for sure; she won't bring up the tragic night in a fight. One, she's afraid of how far Rogue would go in rage. Two, because Lyla hits the brink of insanity when she touches someone and gets their personalities.
"Not that Ah knows of," Lyla said with a shrug.
Silence fell between them when Rogue asked, "why don't we talk like real sisters?"
Lyla tilts her head back, laughing hysterically. She noticed Rogue's face was severe.
"Yah serious?"
Rogue nodded.
"Because sister, everythin' is about yah!"
Lyla's face flared red with anger, "Kurt was adopted. He wasn't a factor. Graydon is a major disappointment. And Ah, remind our mother of Victor. Which leaves yah."
"That ain' my fault."
"Yes, is it!" Lyla shouted. "Yah left me while Ah was stuck at home with an abusive brother."
"He wasn't—"
She wasn't going to argue. There's no point. Rogue's ideas of home life are different than hers. Did they have it rough? Yes, of course. Rogue had friends who helped her through her struggles while Lyla was beaten because of her brother's frustration at home.
"Don't. ah, ain' in the excuses yah have prepared for him." Lyla breathed, "Ah have orders by the Black King to find and take out Graydon. Suppose yah want to kill me. But Ah have a job to do."
Her back turned to Rogue, but she said, "Ah wish we could be true sisters, but there's too much damage. Good night, Anna."
Lyla found Stahr at the bar and whispered in her ear, "When y'all done, can yah bring Malakai back to the house?"
"Leavin'?"
Their eyes met. in another lifetime; she would have pursued Stahr harder. Their lives went in different directions. Plus, the company she keeps is a no go for Lyla.
"Rogue and Wanda ruined my night."
"Figured, yeah, I'll take the princess home. I think she likes you."
One piece of advice she will take from Rogue, talk to Malakai. See if they could at least be more than work partners. Then go with the flow.
Right now, she must find Gray before Rogue. She won't allow it. She can't have them making more excuses for him. For mutant kind and her sanity.
A side note, I hope all the music I add to the story helps bring you in.