Chapter 7

"Stay behind me." Logan quickly scanned the hallway and, seeing no one, unsheathed one set of claws and turned the key in the lock of my motel room door. I kept my eyes and nose trained on the dimly lit corridor, as a sudden rush of apprehension made me wonder WHY I had thought this was a good idea.

I had been adamant with Professor Xavier about doing my gig at the Barley Pop Pub tonight. I wasn't going to let this Magneto character keep me from singing, from doing the only thing that kept me from cashing my chips in and giving up on life. Xavier had been equally adamant about the danger in which I was placing myself. The argument had gone on for several minutes, both verbally and mentally, until the Professor relented, realizing he had met someone that was as stubborn and bull-headed as the Wolverine. When he advised that I at least have one of the X-men go with me, there really had been no question as to who would be my escort.

I had been just as stubborn about getting my stuff out of my motel room before we headed to the bar, so here we were, Logan and I, trying to retrieve my meager belongings without running into trouble. As I would quickly learn, trouble seemed to follow this guy like an over eager dog.

"They're here," Logan grunted, and before I could say, "Who?" He shoved me back against the wall with one arm and aimed a ferocious kick at the flimsy plywood door. Splinters flew everywhere as he charged into the room, roaring. I heard the sounds of a scuffle, and muttered expletives as whoever "they" were tried to fend off Wolverine's attack. Oooh, he was pissed. I peeled myself off the wall and stumbled into the room, only to be met with a blue (BLUE?) foot to my midsection. My breath woofed out of me, and I doubled over, noting that the blue foot was connected to an equally blue leg. An arm, obviously belonging to my cyanotic assailant, snaked around my throat and pulled me upright. The sight that met my eyes boggled my already befuddled mind.

Logan was hovering about three feet off the floor, spread-eagled, like he was tethered to an invisible torture rack. A rather distinguished looking man with silver hair stood by the window, one arm raised offhandedly in Logan's direction. "You never learn, do you?" the older man scoffed, making Logan growl low in his throat.

"Magneto." I knew this was the madman the Professor had warned me about. Seeing how easily he could render Wolverine helpless simultaneously scared and infuriated me. My voice came out rough and angry, surprising even me. "What the hell do you want with me?"

"Ah, my reputation precedes me," Magneto bowed mockingly in my direction. "My dear, I was hoping to convince you to join my cause. Charles really is very selfish. What does he need with two adamantium-laced assassins?"

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Eric Lensherr, a.k.a. Magneto, was a master of psychological manipulation, without the help of any mutation. He prided himself on the fact that, with just a few well-chosen words, he was able to influence someone's thoughts and actions for whatever purpose he, Lensherr, desired.

He could see that his comment, aimed mostly at the young lady, was having just the effect he wished. Confusion and self-doubt flashed in Vixen's eyes, despite the show of bravado she made, and she had stopped struggling in Mystique's grip. "What are you talking about?" the angry young mutant growled, her eyes darting to Wolverine constantly, as if for support.

Magneto clucked his tongue in mock sympathy. "Charles is still such an optimist. He's hoping that you will figure things out on your own, poor girl. But as Wolverine can attest, the truth about your past is very slow in surfacing without help. Do you ever wonder who gave you those claws, or what you were intended to do with them?"

Vixen became very still, her expression wary. "The Professor said he'd help me," she spoke with conviction, "and I know he meant it." Magneto could see fierce anger slowly overcoming the confusion on Brianna's face. "And I also know that you are a snake and prey on people's insecurities for your own purpose. If you thought you could sway me that easily, you sure picked the wrong mutant, bub." Her last words were spoken with anger worthy of Wolverine himself. Vixen's nostrils flared and her eyes flashed dangerously. Too late, Magneto realized that he had underestimated this young woman. With a self-satisfied, wild grin, Brianna unsheathed her full set of claws, driving all six deadly adamantium blades into Mystique's thighs. The shapeshifter, who had relaxed her hold on Brianna, dropped to the floor screaming in pain. Vixen lunged at Magneto, roaring, only to be brought up short by a wave of Lensherr's hand. He smiled, convinced that he now had complete control over both Vixen and Wolverine. He was wrong.

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I could feel the anger growing, being fed by Logan's rage and frustration as well. Once again, that surge of power built up inside me but this time I welcomed it. Energy coursed up from my gut, filling my mind with flashes of black and red. I let loose with a primal scream and physically felt the power bursting from my psyche. Magneto was catapulted backward into the wall as if he had been hit with an invisible mortar shell. Logan fell to the floor, freed from the magnetic field, but still buffeted by my psychic battering ram. I too, collapsed, the drain of energy finally ending the onslaught of anger. Dazed, I sat staring at Magneto's crumpled form until Logan approached and helped me to my feet. He was completely amazed by and absurdly proud of what I had just done. "Well, THAT was different," I commented dryly, and Logan snorted laughter through his nose.

"You are something else, darlin'," he spoke warmly, and without warning, bent his head to capture my lips in a brief, but intense kiss. Logan's touch was so electrifying, I literally felt the hair standing up on my arms.

"Whoa," I breathed in wonder as our lips parted. We stood looking at each other for a long moment, then I shook my head, trying to clear the haze in my brain. I strode quickly to the closet to collect my duffel bags, and Logan and I beat a hasty retreat before the cops showed up. As we made our way down the back stairway to where his motorcycle was parked, I ruminated on the sparks that had flown when we kissed and the emotions that had flooded my mind. I had definitely felt...love, whether or not Logan realized it.