“Piotr…when did it happen?”
“Eh?”
“When did you first…y’know? Change? Go all shiny?”
“Oh. Hm.” He crunched the last of his sticky ice cream cone and licked his fingers. “I was around your age. Seems so long ago…”
Sure. Rub it in that you’re so much older than me, and so gorgeous. Fink. Why couldn’t I be nineteen??
“Were you scared? Did it hurt?”
“Yes. And no. It felt strange. I just tingled all over and felt hot, maybe even a bit dizzy. Then, every muscle in my body just tensed up; I felt myself ‘hardening.’ I can describe it.”
“Did your mom and dad mind?”
“Da. They don’t understand it. My gift had to be kept a secret. They would’ve been ostracized for having me as a son, and possibly hurt. And I couldn’t risk harm to my little snowflake.” Kitty stiffened.
Please tell me that isn’t a pet name for his girlfriend.
“Yeah. Heh. Guess not.” Kitty let the spoon slide around to the other side of the empty sundae glass.
“I couldn’t live with the thought of her being afraid of me. It hurts too much.”
“Awww. I’m not afraid of you, Piotr.”
“You’re thirteen. She’s six. It’s not quite the same.” Kitty brightened, even though she was confused.
“Six?”
“Illyana. My baby sister.” He untucked his billfold from his pocket and opened it, handing it across the table.
A remarkably pretty child with towhead blonde hair down her back and her brother’s dark blue eyes peered back at her, causing Kitty to grin.
“She’s sweet.”
“She watched Star Wars with me once and said I looked like C3-PO.”
“*snort.* She broke into giggles. Piotr indignantly snatched back his wallet and stuffed it in his pocket.
“Brat.” At least Kitty felt better.
“It just feels weird. Being a mutant… man, can I even say that out loud?”
“Perhaps not too loud,” Piotr agreed.
Several yards away, a sedately dressed woman focused on them intently while a cup of sorbet sat melting and forgotten in front of her. Her lips twitched at their words.
“It’s already too late, freak,” she murmured. She reached into her purse and unfolded her tiny cell phone. She autodialed the number and lifted it to her lips.
“Now,” she ordered calmly.
The sniper on the rooftop drew Piotr into his sights and fired.
Piotr felt the sharp, sudden prick between his shoulder blades before everything went horribly wrong.
“PIOTR!”
*
“Astonishing,” Henry murmured as he adjusted the leads below Jean’s collarbones.
“What?” Moira inquired. She’d changed into her work clothes and lab coat and joined him in the infirmary while Sean wisely occupied himself elsewhere in the house.
“Her EEG shows activity…it’s just not normal activity. Or not what you and I think of as normal.”
“Be blunt, Hank,” she snapped. Moira smoothed back a lock of Jean’s beautiful red hair from her brow.
“She’s not responding to stimulus, not any that we provide. No signals to her nervous system; we’re helping her breathe,” he pointed out. “But she’s in there. Our Jeannie’s in there.”
“Poor colleen. She has no reason tae come back to us, now, does she? Scott was her everything.”
“I know that,” he agreed sadly. “But as the other people in her life who love her, we need to find a way to bring her back. Give her new reasons. And if not that, then give her closure of some kind. She’ll need us more than ever once she’s awake.” He didn’t say “if.” Henry McCoy didn’t believe in if.
Moira continued to stroke her hair. “What on earth are ye doin’ in there, Jean?”
Deep within her psyche, Jean huddled in the dark. Brooding. Thinking.
Searching…
*
Kitty lost track of how long she’d been running. Her lungs and soles burned as she scuttled down the subway steps.
“She’s slick,” Anne remarked as their car skidded to a halt. “Out,” she barked to her associate, unlocking the passenger side with a sharp click. “Track her. Don’t’ be afraid to use force. Or to take her down.”
“She’s just a kid, for cripes’ sake!”
“She’s a mutie. And the best way to wipe out a pest is to catch them while they’re young and stomp them out, before they learn to fight back.” She held up a small remote. “This is your mousetrap. I have one built into the GPS here. Take this.”
“What is it?”
“That quack in the wheelchair called the one we bugged at the school Cerebro. Call this Cerebro Light. Just take it and go, already.”
Her skin felt clammy as Kitty phased through the turnstile and bolted down the corridor. The odors of the tunnel assailed her, making her wish she hadn’t eaten so eagerly.
“Why do they want me?” she moaned. “Oh, my God, Piotr! What’d they do to you?”
She’d wanted to stay with him. She’d shaken him by the shoulder, trying to wake him up. The patrons of the café stared and approached them in concern.
“Easy, sweetheart, what happened?” Their server had hovered earlier while he waited to give them their bill, but now he hovered over her protectively, kneeling by the prone man before her.
His eyes rolled open dully as he helped Kitty turn him. “Katya,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Please be all right! Oh, God, Piotr, you were shot!”
“He’s not bleeding…what the hell is this thing?” Their server reached out and tugged on the tiny object sticking out of his back. “Is this…some kind of arrow, or something?”
“Tired…” Piotr complained through dry lips.
“We’ve got to get you home!”
“Katya…no. YOU get home!”
“What!”
“Go. NOW! You can’t stay here!”
“I can’t leave you!”
“I’ll be all right. But I can barely move, and whoever did this…” his words were cut off by a spate of coughing.
“Who DID do this?” the server demanded, staring at them for answers.
“Never mind,” she snapped. “Look…here!” She dug into her purse and tossed a handful of dollar bills at him before she bolted.
“HEY!” The server cursed her departure and scowled down at the barely conscious man. Another dine and dash, he figured, but why was the big guy just laying around like that? He was about to ask him exactly that, but he’d passed out again.
Kitty ducked inside the third car of the train, which was so crowded with commuters that they didn’t notice when she phased through them. She fought to catch her breath as she sank into the seat.
She spied the map of the subway route on the wall and scanned it. “Shoot!” she muttered; her heart sank. She wasn’t on the correct train back to Westchester. She’d need to ride ten stops to catch the southbound, and even then there was a chance she’d be out in the open long enough for those people to find her.
“There she is. Move in.”
The man sitting beside her stared at her; she offered him a shaky smile.
“FREEZE, MUTIE!”
“What the hell?” her neighbor muttered. Cold shock washed over Kitty. The word “Freeze!” galvanized the other passengers into action, some ducking in their seats, and many making their way to the exits at the ends of the car. That left Kitty open and vulnerable.
“Please, what are you doing? Why are you following me? I didn’t do anything to you!”
“You live,” her pursuer shrugged. “That’s enough.” He cocked his pistol and aimed it straight at her heart.
She phased instinctively. The bullet passed harmlessly through her and punctured the wall of the car. The roar of the rails and the other passengers’ screams of panic filled Kitty’s ears and made her pulse throb.
There was only one way out.
She stayed phased and leapt through the wall.
“Bitch!” her assailant hissed. “She’s on the move. We’ve made contact. Target’s losing steam, won’t be long before termination, copy.” He jerked the cord for the buzzer and the train stopped moments later. Commuters poured out into the tunnel and the men slipped away in pursuit.
Kitty limped as quickly as her twisted ankle would allow and headed for the subway escalator. She tripped and stumbled her way up, thankful it would save her a few steps. Her side cramped from her uneven strides, but she couldn’t afford to stop.
She emerged onto the subway platform outside. The air was chilly enough to burn her lungs; night had already fallen and she worried about being out and alone so late.
“There she is!”
“Cripes! Leave me alone!” she cried. BLAM! She sobbed and ducked, forgetting in her haste to phase.
BLAM! Fire seemed to rip through her arm as the bullet nicked her. “AAHH!”
“We’ve almost got her.” She saw that there were three men chasing her, emerging through the stairwells and bearing down on her with their guns. They were dressed in flak jackets and hunter green uniforms with an insignia that she couldn’t read.
“Please don’t hurt me!” she cried.
“Save your breath, kiddo.”
“He’s right, child.” She looked overhead where the voice seemed to come from. The owner’s tones were calm and soothing. “There’s no point in trying to reason with the ignorant and misinformed.”
It was a man, old enough to be Kitty’s grandfather, dressed in a long coat in a garish shade of magenta. He wore a gleaming helmet that wrapped protectively around the sides of his face and shielded the back of his neck. He hovered in mid-air. His silver eyes shone with intelligence but made her blood run cold.
“Another mutie! GET HIM!”
“With those?” He extended his hand. “Don’t make me laugh.” He gestured toward their guns and made a tugging motion with his closed fist.
Their pistols were jerked from their grasp. “Holee!!”
“So now you choose to pray,” the new mutant sighed. Without a thought, he yanked the chain link fence out from its posts. Every one of the men chasing Kitty froze, limbs held immobile. Looks of terror twisted their faces at their sudden inability to control their bodies.
The stranger manipulated the fence, molding it like clay. Within minutes, the men were bound and tethered to the platform wall.
“I won’t ask why you were chasing this young lady. I know why, and I know who you are.”
“That makes one of us,” Kitty murmured. The man peered down at her and smiled.
“That’s enough from the peanut gallery, child.” He turned back to the man whose bullet had nicked her. “You like shooting at children?”
“She’s no child, and you’re no man! You’re spawned from Hell!” He spat at him.
“No. I’ve been through hell and back. Let me assure you it hasn’t improved my demeanor. I don’t take it lightly when someone threatens a fellow mutant.” He tightened their bonds, and they writhed in panic. “Tell me where to find your employer. Now.”
“We’ll die first! We’d die for the cause!”
“If you insist.”
“No! Wait!” Kitty tugged on his sleeve. “Please, don’t. You can’t.”
“I can, child, and I’d be well within my rights. And tell me, why be so quick to defend the same men who just tried to kill you?”
“Because…I’m tired of watching people get hurt and die.” Her face implored him. “Please?” The stranger tutted, then sighed.
“Lucky for you gentlemen I’m a soft touch.”
That didn’t mean he didn’t have a sense of humor. He shifted them, dangling them upside down in metal cocoons, mouths gagged.
“Don’t mean to leave you hanging, but my young companion and I have business elsewhere. Godspeed.”
*
“Any progress, Henry?”
“I’m afraid not.” He crossed the lab and seated himself at the control panel. His furred paws began moving at the keyboard faster than Moira would have given him credit for.
“What are you doing?”
“Consulting the med files on Jean. The Professor kept meticulous notes.” He toggled through each frame of data and reviewed the 3-D holographic display of her body for abnormalities. “Odd.”
“What?”
“The system’s running slowly…” The screen brought up a prompt:
[System resources running at 99.5%. Would you like to close down programs running in the background?]
“Background program? That’s ridiculous,” Henry insisted. Moira frowned as he backed out of the database and began searching the hard drive. He typed in vague search terms and growled in his throat at the results.
“Could it be a bug?”
“A virus? Perhaps.”
The screen beeped ominously and flashed another prompt.
[External hardware failure. Check connection and try again.]
“That doesn’t sound right,” Moira insisted.
“Time to peek under the hood.” Henry was already up, moving the console out from the wall. “Toolbox, please.” She handed it to him and watched him open up the cover protecting the circuits. Henry hummed to himself as he worked. Moira sighed and poured herself another cup of coffee. It was her third.
“Everything looks…oh.” He fumbled with a tiny plug that resembled a jump drive. “Why is this here? Charles never said he used a backup drive before.”
“He doesn’t,” Moira argued.
“Then what’s this?” The object blinked at him, its tiny blue light flickering when Henry pressed a small button that ejected it.
“That’s not a drive,” Moira told him as he handed it out to her. Henry stood and dusted himself off.
“How can you be sure?”
“It looks wrong. That light.” Both doctors examined it carefully atop a light table. “And look.” She probed it with a pair of pincers.
Behind them, the screen flashed again. The console made an odd whirring sound.
“What on earth…?”
[Transmission Interrupted. Data transfer connection terminated.]
“Transfer?” Moira cried. Henry felt himself pale beneath his fur.
“Oh, my stars and garters. We’ve been breached.”
Just then the phone trilled across the room.
“Med lab?” Moira barked into the handset. Her fingers were shaking.
“It’s Logan and Kurt.”
“Where the devil have ye been, lad!”
“Finding answers.”
“Well, we need ye both here, I’ve answers enough here at the house! Someone’s had us under surveillance! Cerebro’s been bugged!”
“Shit,” he muttered. “But I’ve gotta hand it to ya, darlin’, mine’s better than yours.”
“Explain yuirself!”
“Charley, ‘Ro and Scooter are alive.”
*
“This is nuts. You can’t just walk around in that…what are you wearing, anyway?”
“A uniform, my dear, like any other soldier fighting for a cause.”
“So who’s side are you on?”
“Mutantkind’s.”
“Are you one of the good guys?” They were hidden in an alley where he’d dimmed the lights.
“I’ll let you decide. You seem like a bright girl. What’s your name?”
“Kit…I mean, Kate. Kate Pryde.”
“Nice to meet you, Kate Pryde. My name’s Erik. Erik Lensherr.”
“So, you’re a mutant, and you wear a uniform when you fight.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t you have a codename of some sort? I mean, the only mutants I’ve ever met wearing uniforms, not like yours, but still, you get the idea…they all have codenames.”
“Give Kate a gold star. My powers speak for themselves, but I also answer to Magneto.”
Panic gripped Kitty and her intake of breath was sharp. Her words were dumbstruck.
“I’ve seen you on the news.”
“And?”
“You’re a bad guy.”
“It depends on how you look at it.”
“You sank a sub.”
“Point taken. Here. Sit.”
Kitty’s stomach was nauseous with fear but she did as she was told. She was tired, weak, and he hadn’t made any gestures of violence toward her. Yet.
“Let’s tie that arm up, shall we?” He reached for a garbage can lid. With a loud snap, he broke off the handle. Slowly he shaped it, flattening it and re-weaving its fibers into a paper-thin mesh. “This will function as a bandage until you return to your family.”
“They’re in Deerfield,” she admitted. “I’m here in New York for school. A special school for the gifted.”
“I can imagine.” She seemed precocious for her years, something he acknowledged easily enough.
But she was a mutant.
“What brings you into the city by yourself at this time of night?”
“We were attacked…oh, my gosh, PIOTR!”
“Who?”
“He’s my friend, I had to leave him behind! They knocked him out, or worse! They shot him with something and he told me to get away.” Her brown eyes filled with tears. “He was just trying to make me feel better after my teacher got killed.” She was surprised when he reached for her upper arm and held her immobile.
“Who’s your teacher?”
“You’re hurting me!”
“Who, Kate?”
“He’s a professor. Professor Xavier. He has this school in Westchester…” her voice trailed off as he closed his eyes, jaws working as he digested her words. He released her and gave her a gentle pat.
“Kate, if something has indeed happened to your teacher, it matters a great deal to me.”
“It was all over the news. They’re car crashed. My friend Ororo and her friend, Scott, were in the wreck. They called us from the hospital to tell us what happened and to let us know they had the bodies in the morgue!”
“They may indeed have believed they have the bodies of your teacher and friends in their possession, Kate, but someone may have wanted you to believe that, and took the extra steps necessary to complete their ruse.” Despite his words, Kitty noticed his faraway look and wondered what he planned to do next. She wanted to take comfort in his theory, but she wasn’t convinced.
*
“There he is. Five miles north. My readings on Piotr are weak.”
“Good enough. Thanks, furball.”
“You’re welcome,” Henry grumbled, too distracted to take umbrage.
“What about the young colleen?” Moira reminded them both. Logan’s voice was staticky on the other end of the comm. link.
“I’m the best at what I do. Trackin’ people down is one of those things, darlin’. I’ll find the kid and bring her back, safe and sound.” Somehow, Moira knew the child was in good hands. Sean’s soft, reassuring grip on her shoulder told her that she was, too.
“We’ve got three of the team out in the field. That’s a start,” Henry sighed. “I hated to take Cerebro offline, but at least now I have an idea of whose keeping us under surveillance.”
“Ye’ve tracked the signal?” Sean inquired.
“Uh-huh. Downtown. Here’s the irony.”
“What’s that, boyo?”
“It’s in the same vicinity of the television station. One-mile radius.” Henry opened another screen and brought up a topographical map of the city blocks. “There was a church rebuilt from an old movie theater.”
“Might be helpful if we knew who owned it. But that’s where the signal’s coming from?”
“Yes. What we need to know now is how much information do they have? How many mutants in our databanks have they targeted in the meantime?” Sean paled.
“Can’t we check the location’s address and cross-reference it with businesses in the area?” Moira was impatient as she checked on Jean again. Her charge was still unconscious, but slightly agitated, fingers twitching and features twisted in discomfort.
“Let your fingers do the walking,” Henry agreed as his flew over the keys. “And…bingo.”
“Who is it?” Sean leaned in and scanned the screen. His face went blank as Henry read the words they saw aloud.
“The fellowship there calls itself the Friends of Humanity. Owned and operated by a Reverend William Stryker.”
*
“They’re here. How’d you know they’d show up?”
“A little birdie told me,” Anne quipped. She sighed and lit a cigarette, not caring that her partner hated the smell. It was her car.
She was in full uniform instead of her street clothes, proudly sporting the white Friends of Humanity insignia on her snug leather jacket. Her black jumpsuit was woven out of a thin, comfortable blend of Nomex and Kevlar. They watched the progress of the three mutants as they parked their Rolls-Royce across the street, two blocks down. Anne’s surveillance cam zeroed in on the Wolverine.
“That’s the one we need to watch out for. He’s older than the rest of them and more experienced.”
“Doesn’t look that impressive. Ain’t much to him.”
“There’s a lot more to him than meets the eye. Do your homework, read his file, genius.”
“Is he a telepath like the old dude?” Anne frowned.
“No. Why?”
“Why’s he coming for us right now, looking loaded for bear?”
She saw their approach too late. Logan was headed in their direction with a determined look on his face. Through the lens of her camera, she saw his eyes. Feral. Focused.
Angry. He wasn’t looking directly into her face, but he might as well have been.
“Things just got interesting,” she murmured. “Go.” Her partner frowned.
“What?”
“GO!” She punched the locks on the car and reached over, shoving him out the door.
They had to keep these X-Men busy. The Reverend was counting on her.
*
The voice was speaking to Charles again, whispering in his ear. It was soft and soothing, comforting to him in the darkness.
Images assaulted his mind. Failures. Pain.
Failed us. Betrayed us. You, Professor…
No. I meant well, I wanted the best for you. For all of you. Please understand. I never meant to hurt any of you, you’re like my children!
Wasn’t enough. You sent us down the wrong path. Because you’re evil, Charles. Look what evil you have wrought…
Please, don’t leave me alone! Don’t go, I’m begging you. Everyone leaves me!
The end will be here for you soon…
Voices mocked him, eerily familiar and in chorus. There were two conscious presences in his mind with him, male and female. Mocking him.
Hurting him.
The soothing voice intervened.
Are you ready to be saved, Charles?
Light penetrated the darkness, and it took the shape of a man, beckoning to him.
Please. Don’t let them take me. It hurts!
They can’t hurt you if you denounce them. They’re sinful and will only bring you to ruin. Do you repent, Charles? Do you admit you are a sinner?
Yes.
Will you follow the righteous, narrow path to redemption?
Yes. Charles felt the images weakening in his mind and some of the pain dissolved, but there was still a clamor of thought around him, trying to hold onto him…the psychic presence was strangling him. The darkness didn’t want to let him go.
“It’s working, Phillip.”
“I told you it would, Reverend.”
“I doubt anything until I see evidence of its worth. You’ve done well, I’m impressed.”
“He feels the pain those two are projecting. He blames them for it, even though we’re the ones providing the stimulus. Your hypnotic suggestion is doing the rest.”
“Psychic feedback,” William chuckled. “Brilliant.”
“I think the experiment was a success.”
William crossed the room and picked up the phone on his desk. “Betsy? Contact the Senator and let him know that the conference tonight is set for seven o’clock.”
He’d booked the church to the rafters. He had more parishioners arriving than Billy Graham’s crusade. His word would be spread far and wide. God’s word.
Humanity was his gift to humans, not mutants. And tonight, the strongest mind of their kind would lead them like goats into the furnace.
Ororo and Scott were succumbing to the darkness around them. Loss was overwhelming Ororo.
Kitten would be devastated if she knew what had happened to them; the child must be frantic. Panic gripped her when she realized that she was vulnerable now. Miles away from her parents, and out of the Professor’s capable supervision.
They’d go after her next…
KITTY!
William looked amused as he heard the lone name choked into the tiny mic in the tank.
“Feisty little thing,aren’t you? Don’t worry, sugar pie, we’ll take good care of the brat. Anne’s been babysitting her for me. It’s almost nap time for her.” He wasn’t bothered in the least by Anne’s recent report that they’d lost the girl but were still in pursuit, and still keeping watch over the other students at the school.
Ororo projected her anguish into the darkness. On the Reverend’s cue, Phillip increased the dose of narcotics and amplified the sonar signal sending their deafening assault on Ororo and Scott’s nervous systems.
Scott cried out into the tank’s mic, muffled by the fluids.
JEAN!
*
She heard him.
And the presence in her soul heard him, screeching a lonely, keening cry of warning.
The host vessel that harbored her was weak and recovering; she would have to do this alone. The life of the man they both loved was at stake.
*
“We had those assholes on the run.” Matt sat rapt as Logan puffed on his Marlboro. He poured his elderly charge a glass of iced water from the plastic pitcher. Logan took it gratefully and took a few short swallows, wetting his whistle.
“How did you find them?”
“Good question. That church looked like about ten buildings within ten city blocks except for the sign. They actually kept the original movie marquee out on the street. But the kicker was the storm that kicked up outta nowhere. Ya ever seen a hurricane or a tornado, kid?”
“Only on TV.”
“The eye of the storm was directly above the friggin’ building, lookin’ like it was gonna swallow the whole place up. Ya’ve never seen that many people about ta piss their pants.” Almost on cue, Nurse Kinney fetched him away to change a bed. Matt moved as quickly as he could, asked the resident if they needed anything else, and returned to Mr. Howlett before he could contemplate a nap. He was sleeping for longer periods, these days.
“What happened? With the storm?”
“Ororo was givin’ us a sign. A trail of bread crumbs. That’s my ‘Ro.” His smile turned soft.
*
Denounce evil and be saved. The light enveloped Charles, its voice booming and filling his soul with joy.
Yes. I will.
Psychic energy emitted from the tank, feeding itself into the ones in the chamber. Phillip saw the change in readings and turned off the narcotic feed and the collar dampening Charles’ powers.
The effect was immediate. Ororo and Scott’s bodies writhed and jerked, splashing in the tanks. Looks of horror suffused their features. William turned up the intercom in the chamber and let their screams fill the air, finally given full voice.
“Music to my ears.” It was their death song. Phillip looked grim. He was the only member of the Reverend’s fellowship who had the stomach needed for this job, but it still had its drawbacks.
“Our guest needs a fresh change of clothes. Let’s make him comfortable. And presentable.”
“How about the other two?”
“Tell housekeeping to take out the trash. Get rid of the bodies. Be creative.” The other three muties they’d disposed of made excellent decoys for the crash. William liked to be resourceful; waste not, want not.
It felt good to cut something.
Logan was beyond reasoning. Piotr and Kurt refused to believe it, but they should have saved their breath.
“Either help me or get outta the fuckin’ way,” he warned them. Piotr sighed.
He brought down his shining steel fist and crushed the hood of the car speeding down upon them. Kurt bamfed free of the rain of shattered glass and metal shrapnel.
“Fine,” Logan told him. “Least ya know we’re on the same page.”
The operatives were throwing their all at the lone members of team but were still being used to mop the floor.
Kurt teleported from one man to another, snatching away their weapons and leaving them defenseless for Logan and Piotr to take care of. He left one of them suspended from a railing, dangling by his gun belt three stories up.
“My way’s better,” Logan grumbled, but he was impressed.
“Nein. This way, we’ll get more information, mein freund.” He bamfed back to his prisoner and clung to the adjoining face of the building, taunting him. Below, Piotr and Logan continued to make short work of the operatives.
Logan held one of them pinned to the ruined trunk of the car. “Tell me who sent ya after us, asshole!”
“I already know who,” announced a smooth voice behind him. Logan’s claws anchored the man against the trunk, puncturing the shoulders of his jacket and keeping his shoulders hunched up around his ears. He looked about ready to lose bladder control as Logan stared him down, canines showing and a wicked gleam in his eye. He barely spared a look over his shoulder, not wanting the distraction.
“WOLVERINE! Aw, man, am I glad to see you!”
“KATYA!” Piotr bellowed. The man dangling by the collar from Piotr’s large fist promptly crashed to the ground. Before he could run away, Kurt bamfed after him, materialized before him and knocked him out cold.
Kitty ran for Piotr and threw herself at him; he caught her as gently as his steel form would allow. She whimpered into his shirt.
“I was so scared.”
“You were very brave, Katya.”
“Don’t leave me again, okay?”
“I promise.”
“I presume this child belongs to you, then?” her guardian purred. Kurt and Piotr watched enthralled as he floated gracefully to the ground.
“Who the fuck are you?” Logan growled.
“A mutant, like you. A soldier as well, for mutant rights.”
“A terrorist,” Kurt corrected him. “You’re Magneto.” The older man smiled and saluted him.
“You sound like a fellow countryman.” His accent was similar to Kurt’s.
“Austria.”
“I lost family in Austria. Due to my being a mutant.”
“So have I.”
“Then we no doubt have many things in common.”
“Nein,” he shrugged. “I don’t believe we do.” His haunting yellow eyes followed Erik’s movements carefully, even warily as he removed his unusual helmet and tucked it under his arm.
“Guys…this is Magneto. You can call him Erik. He helped me.” Kitty’s introduction was cautious, even meek. Logan’s hackles went up.
“I’m going to help you find your teacher. Charles is my colleague.”
“What if we don’t want yer help, bub? If yer who ya say ya are, who says we can trust you?”
“Who said the X-Men could trust you, Wolverine?” Logan’s dark eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Yer not supposed ta know my name.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’d be surprised to know the lengths to which the right people with the right connections will go to know more about you and your gifts, my friend. And your past.”
“What the fuck are ya goin’ on about, bub!”
“That’s a tale for another day. I want to find Charles.”
“He isn’t the only one missing that we’re worried about.” Peter reverted to his human form and kept Kitty tucked safely against his chest. She was shivering, and it worried him. Logan had filled him in on his findings from the morgue and the crash site.
“Then we can’t dawdle. Come.”
Before they could move, a sharp, freezing wind picked up, howling through the streets. The sky darkened and brought clouds rolling across it in a thick shroud, blocking out all the light.
“That doesn’t look good,” Kurt muttered. Erik stood rooted to the spot, impressed.
“This isn’t natural,” he remarked.
“Sure ain’t. It’s Storm.” He felt it in his bones. It felt like her. The change in weather sent his senses on high alert and made his hair stand on end. He felt the sudden drop in temperature and unease cloaking him the way it did when lightning was pending over the horizon.
She didn’t disappoint him. An enormous black funnel opened above the church several blocks away, right where Henry told them they’d find it. Long, jagged streaks of silvery lightning illuminated the dark clouds. The resounding thunder rocked the ground beneath their feet. Hope rocked him, strengthening him.
“Then let’s not keep her waiting,” Erik suggested.
All Logan knew was that she was in deep trouble. That knowledge nipped at his heels as they sped toward the church. Erik took matters into his own hands and engulfed them in a magnetic field, hauling them into the sky. If the X-Men were disconcerted, they didn’t show it.
Anne slipped away unnoticed. She fished the tiny mobile from her jacket pocket, but as she dialed the Reverend’s private number, her fingers shook.
“They’re right on our doorstep.”
“I won’t tolerate failures from my flock. You know that.”
“I haven’t failed you yet, Reverend. I swear it.”
“Then why are you wasting time contacting me now?”
“Reverend…you don’t understand. The X-Men aren’t acting alone. Magneto has joined them.”
On the other end of the line, William paled. His fingers tightened around the handset and he broke out in a rash of cold sweat.
“Reverend?” She grew unsettled at his prolonged silence.
“You know what’s at stake.”
“Yes!”
“Take him down. I don’t care how.”
“Reverend-“
“We can lose everything we’ve worked for.”
“I’ve followed you,” she reminded him coldly. “I gave up my life, my family, to follow you and spread your word, because it was righteous. Please don’t doubt me, William.”
“Don’t give me cause. Magneto, and Magneto alone, can tip the balance and ruin everything.”
“He’s a mutant, we’ve killed mutants!” she argued as she huddled in the alley.
“He’s their self-appointed Messiah. An Anti-Christ, more accurately, but they know of him, and they will follow him in great numbers unless we strike tonight. Like Xavier, he’s powerful, and he knows the workings of Cerebro.”
“How can he?”
“He helped Charles build it.” Anne was speechless.
“He’s not a psi. He can’t operate it?”
“No. But he can stop it. Or worse, sweet pea, he can get through to Charles himself. I can’t allow that.”
“They don’t know what’s happening at the rally.”
“Then it’s up to you to make sure they never find out.”
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