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The wind whistled through Jubilee’s ears, and she almost missed Warren’s soft chuckle as she whooped with less inhibited laughter.

“This is frickin’ GREAT!”

“I’m glad!” he shouted back. “Beats watching movie reruns on the Spike channel, huh?” Jubilee’s stomach had dropped into her shoes a while back, but she felt her heart shift itself into her tonsils as Warren dipped through the air at ridiculous, blinding speed, careening over the empty memorial garden. Tears of excitement leaked from her eyes, hastened by the wind tearing at them as they continued their madcap flight.

She’d been minding her own business, standing on the balcony on the second floor.

“Penny for ‘em?” Jubilee spun on him, startled enough at hearing a voice overhead from this high up. She shielded her eyes against the midday sun and her breath caught when it shot threads of gold through Warren’s blond hair and outlined his wings in snowy brilliance. He hovered aloft, grinning at her with more mischief than a guy that pretty should be allowed. It was bad enough that her heart did that little skipping thing that made her look at her shoes instead of at his face…boy was fiiiiiiiiiiiine.

“Your dad’s pretty loaded. You can afford more than that,” she accused, falling back on sarcasm as he usual mechanism to avoid dorky simpering. It had worked so far, before.

Didn’t help this time…

“My dad’s loaded. Doesn’t mean I am.” His eyes held a note of hurt in their robin’s egg blue depths. “I’m not like him, y’know.”

“Yeah.” She cringed at her lack of sensitivity. “Sorry.”

“S’okay. Whatcha doin’?”

“Hangin’ out. Tryin’ ta think.”

“Don’t strain yourself.”

“Har-de-har. Stay up dreaming that one up, Fly Boy?”

“Yup. Got circles under my eyes, cantcha tell?” Of course she couldn’t. He was perfect.

“Almost puts Spuds McKenzie t’shame. Hey, War, are ya just gonna hover like that all day?”

“Nope.”

“Kay. So…what are you-AAAAIIIIYYIIIIYIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!” Her breath was stolen from her lungs on a shriek that neighboring dogs could hear for miles. Faster than she could say “Holy shit!” Warren swooped down and grabbed her under the armpits, scooping her and clasping her back against his chest. They bounced through the air, Jubilee shrieking like a siren the whole way. Warren laughed as her voice ululated with the momentum and wing sweeps.

“Ican’tbelievethisareyououtofyourmindIcan’tbelieveitI’MFLYING!!!!!”

“Yup,” he agreed.

“ME!”

“Yup. We covered that,” he called back, feeling Jubilee’s pulse pound against his neck as he leaned his cheek against hers. She smelled good, and she felt soft and light as a feather. She had a death grip on his arms, which he gradually shifted until he was holding her around her ribcage. She thought rollerblading was wicked, but this…shoot. She’d never blade again. Nothing could top this. They cleared the trees in the surrounding woods, getting a perfect “bird’s eye view” of the perimeter.

“You’re something, you know that?”

“I don’t mind if you tell me again,” he admitted. She heard a wistful note in his voice, and she turned to face him, staring at him with curious brown eyes. She looked precious and beautiful to him in that moment, with her lips slightly parted and her cheeks flushed from the wind.

“You’re really something, Warren,” she obliged.

“Jubes…”

“Kiss me. Please.”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded, right before his lips descended upon hers, light and sweet. Jubilee’s heart was slamming in her chest, this time from the reality of Warren’s touch, up in the clear sky, like something out of the dreams that made her wake up with a smile right before she realized that they were just that. Dreams.

This totally rocked out loud. Her palm released its grips on his forearm and crept up to stroke his smooth cheek. It was over too soon.

The screeching of tires roused them from the embrace like a bucket of cold water. Someone was burning rubber outside the front gate of the school.

“That’s not anyone we know,” Warren muttered, squinting his eyes at the unfamiliar sedan. Nearly three-quarters of a mile out, a sedan with a dented roof was speeding along, hugging the edge of the road.

“The Professor has a lot of cars,” Jubilee reasoned.

“That one’s missing its windshield.”

“Crap. That’s not good.”

“Whoever they are, they’re headed this way…” His voice drifted off, and Jubilee felt his muscles stiffen as he held onto her more tightly, almost protectively, making her yelp in surprise.

“Whatsamatter, War?”

“He’s not alone.” Warren’s vision picked up the small, zooming speck that was gradually growing bigger the closer it approached. A lone figure on a motorcycle. Mr. Logan hadn’t taken Mr. Summers’ bike into town today. And the last time Warren had checked, Mr. Logan didn’t have a penchant for dark purple leather.

“That definitely isn’t good.”

“I’m taking you back to the house.”

“Like heck you are! Where the heck d’ya think you’re going?”

“I can head off the bike before she gets to the campus. We can’t let her get in through the gate if she’s hostile,” he reasoned.

“You weren’t here the last time anyone hostile got in through the gate. They just barged in through the back door without so much as a by-your-leave.” Jubilee shivered as she remembered the cold drafts of air whistling through the corridors after Stryker’s men roused everyone from a sound sleep after busting in through the walls with guns and searchlights. Remembering Terry’s screams made her ears hurt just thinking about it. At least having Dani as a roomie guaranteed she wouldn’t bust an ear drum if she had a nightmare. “You’re not going down there without me,” she carped.

“Jubes…”

“Get that thought outta yer head right now, Fly Boy!”

“I’m not letting anything happen to you,” he grumbled.

“Maybe I’M not letting anything happen to me,” she suggested. “Same goes for you, pal,” she added. She knew Warren was great at evasive maneuvers and aerial attacks just from their Danger Room sessions, but hand-to-hand combat was his weakest area. Miss Munroe was still working with him on that, reminding him that she, too, sometimes became overconfident in her ability to fly. It wouldn’t help if she was taken down by someone who shot her out of the sky.

Warren’s heart pounded the closer they came to the ground. He was perhaps a yard from touching down before Jubilee wriggled free from his arms, slippery as an eel.

“Jubee…shit! Don’t do that!” he hissed. “Get back here!”

“Nothing doing.” She was already giving off sparks of energy, charging her fireworks up and letting them dance on her fingertips. The car was careening toward the gate.

“That gate’s been fortified since the last time anything big and nasty plowed through it,” she called to Warren. “No way he’s getting in.” Despite her confident reassurances, she still gathered more energy, creating a Roman candle-sized flare in her palm. Warren flew overhead, circling above her, waiting for the first sign that he would need to pull her away.

Neither of them counted on the possibility that Stryker would have a gun. A wicked looking .48 pointed out from the driver-side window and aimed for the security box, blasting the intercom and keypad to bits. Sparks and wires spewed from the console, and the gates swung wide open.

“Crap,” Jubilee squeaked.

“Nononononothisisn’thappeningthisISN’Thappening!” Warren chanted to himself. He watched Jubilee pull back her hands, gathering up more energy, and she let fly with a sparkler as big as a basketball, hurling it at Stryker’s car. It exploded as it struck the grill, making the car swerve slightly, but he was still hurtling the direct path to the house, and bearing down on Jubilee, gun raised.

“NO! JUBES! DUCK!” Warren bellowed, eyes wide as he darted out, grabbing Jubilee and knocking her out of the car’s path. She felt the air smacked out of her lungs as he caught her and rolled onto the gravel.

“Ow,” she muttered from beneath him. His wings were a flurry of rumpled feathers. “Not one of my better landings. Or yours.”

“Ya think?” Warren griped. “Shoot.”

“What?”

“HEADS UP!” The motorcycle bore down on them this time, not pausing for so much as a millisecond. Warren reminded himself that the stranger needed both hands to steer the bike, which was every bit as souped up as Mr. Summers,’ until she relieved him of that assumption. She didn’t reach for a gun.

She raised her hand and leaned into the face of the find, and her fingers extended into foot-long, shining talons.

“Good time to fly us outta here, War!” He hadn’t released his hold on Jubilee yet, and she found herself yanked unsteadily to her feet and half-dragged as Warren took a running leap and thrust them both back up into the air.

“We’ve gotta tell Mr. Logan!”

“He’ll have a clue in a minute!” Jubilee’s thoughts raced. They had to warn Dani and Sam and Sage, and find Miss Munroe…all of the younger kids needed to be protected. And Jimmy…

“Jimmy!” she hissed aloud.

“What?”

“Jimmy! We’ve gotta hide him away!”

“They aren’t here to take him ““

“No, no! Not that! His powers, goofball! If anyone’s gotta get out here and stop these two nutjobs, they’ll need their powers! Jimmy’ll shut them off like a switch!” The light went on in his blue eyes as he weighed her words. He flew them over to the back entrance of the kitchen, and they burst through the door in a huff.

“Where the hell were you two?!” Logan snarled at them. “GO! NOW! Danger Room. Grab any of the kids ya find on yer way and stay there.”

“There’s someone outside…” Jubilee began breathlessly.

“Ya should’ve been inside by now. Hank already told me. Get yer butts downstairs. And take the stairs. If anything knocks out the power, I don’t wantcha stuck in the elevator and trapped where we can’t get to ya. Hurry,” he barked.

“Yessir,” they promised in unison, dashing down the hall to the back stairs.

Upstairs, Jean was strangely calm. She’d obeyed Hank’s terse command to assist the students out of the upper level, shooing them downstairs and making sure no stragglers remained in their dormitories or attempted to be brave. The corridor was echoingly empty. She reassured everyone that she would be fine when they begged her to come downstairs with them. Peter eyed her curiously before she beckoned for him to accompany them inside the Danger Room, which was now their makeshift bunker.

Soon it would be their coffin. She smiled serenely, humming an old Grace Slick song that her father had loved.

William’s voice had drifted in and out of her consciousness all afternoon. His voice was closer now, as were his thoughts. They were rife with panic and rage.

Eve. The time is now. Go. Go to Cerebro. Death has climbed in through our windows, Eve, and has entered our fortresses. Man’s fortresses, Jean. Mutants are walking, breathing Death to humankind. You know what to do. His voice became strident, urgent. His thoughts were a rambling jumble of determination rising above the clamor of the students’ fear and mental cries.

More visions of flames and destruction reared up in her mind. She embraced it, wanting to fling the doors wide to let in the maelstrom.

Ororo’s thoughts were growing closer, too. She was outside, and Jean was suddenly aware of a tickle of fading arousal when she felt the brush of the weather witch’s emotions. A quick scan of Ororo’s nervous system told her all that she needed to know, and some things that she didn’t. Logan’s touch was all over her body. Jean sensed it. After all, she would know. She felt the burning kisses and rasp of his stubble against tingling skin, hearing his heated, desperate words as though he had growled them in her ear.

So they finally gave in, she mused. Well, bully for them. She squelched the tiny, insistent voice that urged her to be happy for her oldest friend and sister who had found happiness with the feral loner. His passion was overwhelming as it was addictive. The Phoenix thrived on passion, and she thoroughly resented anyone who got in the way of her having her fill. She loved Scott. She would always love him. But she craved the heady danger and challenge of taming the Beast inside the man with a scorching thirst.

In the meantime, she could save him for last. She had students to kill. The chip in her neck pulsed and itched abominably, and she continued to rub her nape, finding no surcease.

More rage tickled the fringes of her mind. Yuriko. More passion, more bloodlust. Intoxicated by it, Jean drifted downstairs as though in a trance, and she shut off the claxons with a mere thought on her way into the foyer.

“Heads up, Jeannie! Where’s One-Eye?”

“Here,” Scott called out, bringing up the rear from the kitchen. “Two hostiles, according to mansion security monitors.”

“We know these hostiles,” Logan quipped impatiently. “Both of ‘em shoulda been dead.”

“So what else is new?” Scott jibed back. Logan gave him a measuring look with a raised eyebrow.

“Good point.” Score one for One-Eye.

“We don’t have Kurt on point to ‘port anyone out if we have to use any fire power,” Scott considered. “Peter’s watching the kids. Where’s Storm?”

“Here,” she called out. Logan grunted in surprise when he noticed that she had already slipped into her uniform. He suppressed his disappointment that she wasn’t charmingly disheveled or flushed with passion anymore before moving onto the crisis at hand. Silently Ororo met his gaze, nodding to him with the unspoken promise that a serious talk was around the corner.

Outside, Stryker was still driving like a demon. He’d wrested the laptop from the backseat and flipped it open. It slid back and forth across the passenger seat as he jammed the microphone one-handed into the port.

“Go to Cerebro, Jean. Find the mutants,” he cried. “Crush them. Kill them before it’s too late!”

He could have sworn he heard her light chuckle in his thoughts before she replied.

All right, William.

He had more immediate problems at hand. William heard the gunning of the motorcycle’s engine over his head as he veered toward the garage…

VVVRRAAAAAAAMMPP! SKAAAASSSSH! The bike bounced with the impact of a landing that would have made Evel Knievel blush with envy, miraculously staying intact. He recognized it as a prototype of a combat cycle that Oyama Heavy Industries was developing on the side as part of its weaponry project; the wheel wells gleamed with the telltale platinum hue of adamantium. Unbreakable, unstoppable, and handled by a vengeance-obsessed psychopath with self-repairing nannites. My cup runneth over.

Now all he needed was the Wolverine staring him down and promising to shish kebob him, and his day would be complete. Then again…

All he needed was to draw him out. Then Yuriko would be too distracted to pay him any heed. That would buy him some time to push Jean those last few steps toward fulfilling his mission.

Yuriko sneered at him beneath the protective visor of the obsidian helmet. Her long hair rippled on the breeze, flying out behind her in a sable banner as she stared him down. She revved the engine with a twist of her wrists, enjoying the growl of the beast as she straddled it, waiting for Stryker to make the first “ possibly his last “ move.

William tossed the tiny mike aside before clapping the laptop shut. He held the steering wheel in a death grip and slammed his foot on the gas pedal. He knew the Wolverine thrived on violence, was drawn to it like flies to honey. The car hurtled forward as he prepared to mow Yuriko down. She never so much as flinched. The bike roared to life as they engaged in a game of chicken. The bike went airborne again, but this time, she reached down and extended her talons, tearing through the roof of the car like it was a tin can. Fire rippled across William’s cheek and the top of his ear as she grazed him, drawing blood that ran warm and sticky down his trench coat.

The scent of blood and crunching metal brought Logan running, with Hank, Scott and Ororo hot on his heels. He took cold comfort in the closure and relief that he felt that he wasn’t going crazy back at Alkali after all: Stryker and Deathstrike were both alive. The former was currently skidding into the side of the garage. The passenger side of the car crumpled and folded like an accordion, and Logan was almost impressed with Stryker’s stamina as he jerked open the door and staggered out, never losing a step as he drew his .48. Who did he think he was gonna hurt with that pea shooter? Then it dawned on him…

“STORM! Get airborne! NOW!” She didn’t need to be told twice. Her eyes were already glowing an arctic blue as she threw herself into the air. Her winds carried the sound of Stryker’s curses to her as she threw off his aim. Just try it, she challenged him, throwing her arms wide and summoning lightning to dance over her palms. The drafts tossed her hair with abandon as her eyes shifted to the eerie white that signaled that her power was fully activated and live. The round cracked free from the chamber, but Ororo darted out of its path. SNIKT! SNIKT! Logan’s six claws sprang free from their moorings.

Don’t make Logan smack a bitch, growled the Beast in his head. His nostrils flared as he made his way toward Stryker. He ignored the gunning of the fully loaded chopper rearing up behind him.

“Don’t get too comfortable with that thing. Might hafta take it away from ya if ya point it at her again,” Logan rumbled. He couldn’t be blamed if Stryker’s hand got in the way when he did.

“I might take exception to it myself,” Hank agreed. “Didn’t your mother teach you never to aim dangerous things at people, sir?”

“You aren’t people,” Stryker accused. He leveled his gun at the blue behemoth in front of him, snarling back as Hank bared his fangs at him.

ZZZZAAAMMM! His hand vibrated as Scott’s optic beams knocked the firearm from his grip, sending aftershocks up the length of his forearm. He shook his hand limply, cursing again at the discomfort.

“You won’t catch me napping again, buddy,” Scott promised. His lips were a tight seam of defiance as he remembered the burning in the back of his neck when he woke up at Alkali in the darkened compound. Stryker made him attack the woman he loved more than his life. Yep, he’d enjoy handing his ass to him, even if he had to stand in line behind Logan to do it.

“I already have,” he promised, revealing nothing of his Trojan horse making her way to the sub-basement complex.

Downstairs, Peter was attempting to calm the clamor in the Danger Room as the students peppered him with questions and complaints.

“I wanna go home,” Weezie whined. “We were supposed to be safe here!”

“You are, if you stay down here,” Peter explained, close to the end of his tether.

“Don’t let them get me again!” Jimmy begged.

“We won’t,” Bobby promised. Marie reached out and tugged Jimmy backwards into her arms, hugging him fearlessly, to comfort herself as much as him. His eyes searched the room, giving him pause and making his brows draw together. “We’re missing some people,” he announced.

“What?” Marie’s head snapped up.

“The upper floor’s already clear,” Peter reasoned, but his pulse was already pounding in his neck, and Marie saw the terror written on his face.

“Not everyone’s here,” Kitty corrected him. “Dani and Sam are missing.”

“Boszhe moi!” Peter didn’t need this. Sam he wasn’t as worried about, with his near invulnerability when he was blasting, but he could be careless. They all had been, back when he first arrived as a new student himself. He’d thought himself unstoppable, until he’d met the Juggernaut, Magneto, and seen Logan’s claws slice through a steel tank. Dani, on the other hand, had to rely on the power of people’s inner demons and darkest fears. People like Stryker probably faced down those demons every day. People like Deathstrike probably had none to begin with.

~*~

“Ah never shoulda let ya talk me into this, gal,” Sam muttered.

“Ssshhh. Hush up, Guthrie, they’ll hear us!” From their vantage point on the eave of the roof, crouched down to avoid being sighted, the two teens prayed and cringed in response to the scene unfolding below them. Logan and Deathstrike seemed to be having a jousting match, except Logan wasn’t mounted. Yuriko was a purple blur as she sped past, bringing her claws level with Logan’s heart. He whipped himself inches shy of her plunging them into his chest, but she raked his flesh, releasing a gout of blood that stained his shirt and stung like a mother. She donutted the bike in a perfect three-quarter circle as she made another pass. Hank had other ideas. His furry fist shot out, and he clotheslined her off the bike in a move that made Logan decide Blue was his new hero. Stryker dodged the half-ton of runaway machinery, skidding through the grass. His nose was bloodied as he face-planted, raising his eyes to his adversaries to assess their next move.

The mansion was strangely silent. All of the mutant brats were out of sight now…then he remembered that some of them knew how to fly. He scanned the sky until a flash of red caught his eye near the roof. He caught the edge of a red plaid flannel shirt just past the edge of the wide chimney. Bingo. The visor-clad pup had relieved him of his .48, but he always packed a spare. He reached into his pocket and extracted the tranq gun, already loaded with several darts. It released a staccato “PTTTOOO!” as he aimed for the edge of the chimney, overcorrecting a bit to adjust for wind shear. He heard a youthful and feminine voice cry out.

“AAAAAHHH!”

“DANI?!?” A slender, dark-skinned girl collapsed and tumbled from the roof.

“Goddess!” Ororo swore, summoning wind to cushion her fall, but Sam was already on it, charged up and blasting himself faster than Dani could fall. His legs became a smoking jet of pressure as he flung his fists in front of him to aim his descent. Only a few seconds…had to make all of ‘em count…

“CRIPES!” The save was too narrow for anyone’s comfort. Just when Dani expected to kiss the lawn, Sam caught her in his arms, grunting with the impact and added burden of her weight.

“Don’t…weigh that much…bub,” she murmured. “Ow.”

“Ah wuzn’t gonna say anything, gal,” he assured her.

“Sure…you weren’t,” she rasped, staring woozily at him. She clawed at the dart stuck in her shoulder. “Sucker burns something fierce.”

“Ya don’t look so good, Dani.”

“Didn’t put on my makeup todaayyyyy…” Her dark eyes rolled back before drifting shut. Her jaw and her limbs went suddenly slack.

“Aw, gal, don’t do that, yer scarin’ me! Dani! Wake up, y’hear!”

“Get her outta here, Guthrie!” Logan roared. “Take her inside! Grab Jeannie ta take care of her!” Sam flew back around to the hangar, intending to go inside through the basement entrance outside and drop Dani off. If they needed him, he couldn’t afford to be locked up inside the Danger Room with everyone else. He’d have re-thought that logic if he had remained there long enough to hear Warren’s account of trying to do the very same thing only minutes ago.

“Are ya pleased with yerself, Stryker, attacking children? Thought ya were a soldier, pledged ta protect yer country,” Logan snarled.

“I’m protecting my country from mutant scum like you,” he reasoned, holding his hands up in resignation. “You don’t deserve to wear those, mutie,” he sneered, nodding to Logan’s dog tags.

“How dare you think you can decide whose worthy to protect this great land,” Hank growled. “The Department of Homeland Security pays my salary, Stryker. I’ve played golf with the President.” He added with a rare streak of smart-assedness, “and he pisses bigger than you.” Logan almost choked on the laugh that rippled up from his ribs. Even Scott was smirking.

“Hellooooooo…remember me?” purred a voice behind them. Ororo pivoted from her perch a few feet up in the air, only to find herself buffeted and knocked to the ground. Her back slammed into the grass as Deathstrike tackled her.

“RO!”

“We didn’t get to chat the last time we met,” Yuriko drawled, straddling Ororo’s ribs and squeezing her knees around them in a viselike clamp while she aimed her claws toward her throat. She feinted and jabbed while her prey struggled, pinning her with desperate brown eyes that dilated as she managed to fend her off, buying what time that she could for her teammates to assist her. She parried Deathstrike’s jabs with blocks that Logan had taught her, criss-crossing each blow with efficient opposition. Yuriko’s talons nicked her cheek, and a tear of blood trickled down her caramel skin. Yuriko couldn’t want to cause more damage. It was nothing personal. She just wanted to tear apart the Wolverine and take anyone he cared about with her.

Don’t let this one loose. She nearly froze me to death the last time, Jason reminded her gently. She’s mean. Ororo caught the faint pause in her movements as she stared off for a moment, as if listening to a voice in the background.

“You’re not here alone, are you?” Ororo suggested.

“I can take you out by myself.”

“You can try.” Her chocolate brown eyes shifted to a blinding white that made Yuriko’s stomach clench in anticipation, right before Ororo called down the fury of Mother Nature. Lightning zeroed in and struck home, sizzling through every molecule of Yuriko’s body. Her body spasmed and jerked. Unaffected by the charge, Ororo shook her off, rolling her off and tossing her aside. She struggled to her feet and wiped her cheek. Yuriko looked up, meeting her gaze, and to Ororo’s horror, before her very eyes, the scratches and burn marks and singed hair began to knit themselves back together like magic.

“Great,” Ororo muttered.

“For me,” Yuriko winked, grinning as mischievously as Logan would during their workout sessions. She didn’t have time to gloat. Logan lunged for her once he saw that Ororo was separated from her attacker before tackling Yuriko and raining a hail of punches into any inch of her that was left unprotected.

“Stay away from my girl,” he hissed, copping a line from Scott that seemed to fit the moment.

“Oh-ho! Really?” He realized his mistake the moment the words were out of her mouth. Shit. He forgot rule number one: Never let ‘em know who’s close to you. Yuriko blocked the plunge of his claws into her neck with a swift parry, bringing the flat of her palm between his fingers in true Three Stooges fashion. It would have made him laugh if he wasn’t determined to take her out before she could hurt anyone else. He struggled to disengage his claws from hers, locked as they were in a tangle of metal and cybernetically enhanced flesh. She took the opportunity to tear at his vitals while he was at a disadvantage.

“YEEARRGGH!”

“Ooooo. Did that hurt?” She gave him her best Betty Boop pout.

Scott and Hank were advancing on Stryker. Scott poised his hand on his visor’s release trigger, staring him down.

“Did you really think we’d just let you waltz back in here after what happened?”

“I’m more of a two-step man, actually,” he mused. “You really don’t have any clue, do you? You’re helpless without that esteemed Professor of yours, aren’t you? He did the thinking for this entire school of miscreants, didn’t he?”

“Shut up, you bastard,” Scott hissed.

“Make me. Better yet, you might want to listen to what I have to say. You think I’m just now returning to finish what I started?” He tightened his grip on the tranquilizer gun, alternating possible targets by aiming it first at Hank, then Scott, then back again. “Who’s to say I don’t have my eyes and ears? My reach is long. And so is God’s,” he mocked. “I’ve known every move that you’ve made for weeks. Every time you’ve headed into town. What you ate for breakfast today. What time of the night you balance your checkbook or put out the trash. Might wanna be more careful with that image inducer, Dr. McCoy, it tends to go on the fritz when you touch anyone. Can’t interrupt its field without the integrity of the holograph being damaged.” He laughed at the look of consternation that crossed Hank’s features. A chill ran down his spine at the realization that he’d somehow planted a leak in the mansion the night that they went out, leaving the children vulnerable.

“Damn,” he muttered.

“The nerve of you, anyway. Pretending to be human. A devil in lamb’s clothing, McCoy, that’s all you are. Don’t you know that I was inspired at first by your research with mutant genetics? I waited for years, man, YEARS for someone to deliver me of the burden of having a mutant for a son. Someone to lift the blight of living in fear of what my child could do to me or to anyone that I loved. Now I’m alone, my wife is dead, and I had to take drastic measures with my son, he was a demon seed and a liability. His existence went against everything that I stand for and that God created.”

“God created your son,” Hank argued. “Get that through your thick skull. You’re moving backwards while the world keeps on spinning.”

“Backwards,” he snorted. “Spoken like a liberal AND a demon. You call your mutations the next logical step in evolution. McCoy, each new generation of humanity believes it has made strides over the last as it embraces new sins and slights to God’s will. That isn’t progress. That’s just a speedier trip down Satan’s crooked path.” He shook his head in pity, relishing Hank’s scowl.

“You want new sin?” Scott shrugged. He blew Stryker off his feet with a scarlet blast from his visor, his jaw clenched at Stryker’s words. “Fine, then. Get ready to put up or shut up. Turn the other cheek, you sonofabitch!”

“Whoa,” Hank grated out. “Scott…easy, lad…”

“Back off, Blue!” he snarled.

“Right. Backing off. I’ll…just be over…never mind.” He’d had enough of Stryker’s rants, but was glad he had monologued most of his agenda in the process. He needed to head back inside, shooting back to Ororo, “Storm, don’t let anyone get in!”

“Henry!”

“Stay! I have something to take care of! Peter needs me!” She trusted him enough not to argue. She turned back to Logan, who was holding his own against Deathstrike, but not without significant damage. Watching him heal from each slice did nothing to alleviate the terror of watching her tear into him. It was like watching two rival pack wolves snarling and lunging for each other’s throats, teeth bared and slavering, both unwilling to back down until the other submitted or lay dead.

The latter wasn’t an option she could allow.

“Don’t think her going out the way ya came in, toots,” Logan promised her. She feinted and lunged, drawing blood again. His collarbone leaked ichor that drenched his shirt. He consoled himself that he didn’t like that shirt much, anyway. He retaliated by sweeping her leg and dropping her on her sweet ass. Niiiiiiice. She had the nerve to look stunned. They rolled over and over across the lawn.

“Logan…”

“BUSY,” he grated out. “Help Scooter!” She obeyed, turning to check Scott’s progress. Stryker was down, staring in a daze up at Scott from his vantage point against the trunk of a tall oak.

“You made me hurt my fiancée,” Scott informed him coldly. “Not a smart move.”

“Made my day. Anything to save the world from one more mutant breeder,” Stryker grimaced.

“Your wife was one, as I recall. I met your son. He takes after his pop. Bends the truth as he sees fit. Except he just creates illusions. You lie through your teeth.”

“Don’t call that abomination my son.” Stryker reached for his dart gun again, lifting it to squeeze off another round.” A pinpoint-accurate beam zapped it from his hand, and Scott made a halting motion with his own.

“Go ahead, try it. I can keep this up all day.”

“Won’t be necessary. I’m old, not helpless.” Stryker struggled back onto his feet, crouching into a stance that Logan would have admired. “Come on. Come and get me.”

“Don’t let him goad you, Cyclops,” Ororo reminded him. “Hit him again.”

“I’ve been waiting too long for this,” he shot back, ignoring her.

Men!

The two men grappled like titans, dealing blows like they were playing cards. Scott was younger, lean, had the height advantage and was combat-trained since his late teens. Stryker was an old Army dog before he abandoned his uniform for the robes of a minister. He was wily, pissed off, and hardened by his troops and later, his crusade that turned his back on him.

Stryker let Scott begin swinging before he snuck in a jab to his chin. “WHOULLFF!”

“Didn’t tickle, did it?” He punched him in the kidneys, grinning with blood-coated teeth. “Here, have another.”

“Bastard!” Ororo cried. She needed some space…anything for a clear shot. They left her no opportunity. She sighed. Time to do things the old-fashioned way. She calmly picked up a fist-sized rock from the ground and made her way over to the tumbling pair of combatants.

“Oh, William?” she clucked cheerfully.

“Wuh-“ BONK! Ororo pasted him right between the eyes, bending back the bridge of his glasses. He tumbled off of Scott’s chest from where he knelt, delivering blow after blow. Scott stared up at Ororo, still stunned.

“Shit, remind me not to make you mad.”

“Demon seed, my behind. Breeders. Not human?”

“I get it. Geez…ow.” He rubbed his jaw. “Whaddawedo with him?”

“What do you think?” She picked up his discarded tranquilizer gun and aimed it at his unprotected backside. THWIPP!”

“That’s gonna hurt in the morning.”

“I’m letting him wake up. He should be thankful.” It wasn’t enough. She was in the mood to kill him once she saw Dani fall off the roof. She’d grown fond of their late night talks over tea and her youthful enthusiasm. If Stryker thought he was going to harm one hair of her cute little head, he had another ‘think’ coming. Stryker’s body gave one last twitch before he lay still.

Logan’s roar of pain snapped them both to attention. Yuriko was feeding him his lunch, clapping her feet around his neck as he flipped her over his head. She gave her feet a quick snap, flinging him in a clean arc through the air. The air whooshed out of his lungs as he bounced up from the ground, landing on his shoulders. He got up and cracked his neck to pop the joints back into place before turning back to her.

“That all ya got?”

“Nope.” Her face was draped in disgust at the lameness of the question.

“Good.” She came at him again before he could even catch his breath.

“This isn’t good,” Scott muttered.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Go inside.”

“What!”

“Go. Hank headed inside for a reason. Stryker’s little laundry list of our comings and goings should have been our first clue that he’s someone, or something, planted inside the house. We’ve gotta figure out what.”

“Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I already know.” She turned to face him, her face wreathed in sympathy. “You go. Logan needs me.” She swallowed harshly. “Jean needs you.”

“Jean…”

“GO! NOW, Scott!” She socked him when his shock at her words rooted him to the ground. He grunted in agreement before he took off like a shot. He headed straight for the hangar, going in the same way that Sam had gone with Dani.

He passed them in the infirmary. Jean was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Miss Grey?” Scott demanded. Dani was lying on the stretcher with Sam hovering protectively over her, banding her arm with a thick pad and a roll of gauze. Her shirt sleeve was shredded, but she was coming around.

“Dunno, teach. I couldn’t find her when I checked the Danger Room. Ah came here t’take care o’ my gal here, she was pretty roughed up. Pete’s still keepin’ watch on everybody else. Ah can’t hear her in mah head.”

“Can’t hear who?”

“Miss Grey. Normally Ah hear her every now and again when Ah call out ta her with mah thoughts, but she’s not reachin’ back ta me. It’s like she just up an’ disappeared.”

“Oh, no.”

“Whatsamatter, Mr. Summers?”

“There’s only one room in the house that would completely shut her off like that. Stay here,” he snapped.

“Shouldn’t we head back to the Danger Room, sir?”

“No. Here’s fine for the moment. It might be better if we’re not all in one place.” With that, he took off again, letting the doors swing open after him in his haste.

“That didn’t sound good,” Dani groaned beside him.

“Sure didn’t,” he agreed, staring down at her and stroking back a lock of her hair. She gripped his other hand that gripped her good arm, covering it with her warmth. She was petrified that this might be the last time they were able to be together like this.

Things were about to get worse.

The infirmary disappeared, replaced by the cold shadows of the trees surrounding her parents’ ranch in the Rockies. Dani found herself alone, standing outside on the porch. Something felt very, very wrong.

“SAM?” she cried out. A low growl and a scuffling of paws on the ground made her spin around to face the threat. She reached for her father’s hunting rifle, drawing it and cocking the trigger.

“Don’t come any closer,” she warned.

“Dani,” Sam murmured. “What are ya yellin’ about?” She’d edged away from him, stumbling off of the cot and backing into the corner.

She didn’t see him. Couldn’t hear him. All she could see were glowing red predator’s eyes and gleaming teeth in a velvety carpet of dark fur, lumbering out of the darkness, straight for her.

“NO!” It was the bear that killed her parents. And he was hungry. “YOU WON’T GET ME!”

“Cripes!”

Caught in the grip of her nightmare, Dani aimed the rifle. Her psychic probe darted out for the first mind that she found. Sam trembled as he was plunged headlong back into the Kentucky coalmines. The walls of the tunnel quivered and cracked all around him as the ground shook beneath his feet. All he could hear were his friends crying out for help. He couldn’t reach them all. He just grabbed hands and arms as he could and felt his legs burning up. He pushed himself toward the light and took off like a shot…

Dani and Sam lay there in the infirmary in a daze, semi-catatonic. If Scott had remained behind long enough, he would have realized that Dani’s illusions weren’t at play this time.

Jason sat back in the van parked a few kilometers from the school’s front gates and allowed himself a smile from his palsied lips. So many new toys to play with.

Logan was giving Yuriko’s cybernetics a run for their money, cursing every time she healed herself, three times faster than his own healing factor could handle when he was at full strength. She looked fresh as a daisy. In the meantime, his clothes were shredded, he was bathed in sweat, and he silently fumed to himself “Wouldja just DIE already, damn it!” Ororo, once again, refused to listen to him. She was right there beside him, giving Yuriko hell. Her uniform had seen better days, more ventilated with slash marks and tears, but thankfully her skin wasn’t weeping blood. Not yet. Yuriko was working on it.

“You won’t be so pretty when I’m done with you.”

“Awww. I’m more than a pretty face,” Ororo complained, giving a false moue of disappointment. It wasn’t nice to be underestimated like that. Logan and Ororo drove her backward, and Ororo called lightning to her hands again, randomly shocking her when she doubled back. It only stunned her. Her nannite net was already repairing her systems and compensating for the current.

“We ain’t getting anywhere doin’ this,” Logan hissed.

“Got any ideas?”

“I can help with that,” piped a voice that Ororo was outraged to hear by her elbow. “Hi, ‘Ro.”

“Get back in the house, Kitten! You don’t belong out here!”

“No less than you do.” Yuriko smiled as she watched the tiny slip of a girl phase up out of the ground behind the two X-Men.

“You’re letting the children fight your battles for you now?”

“Hey, I’m on sabbatical, and don’t call me a kid.”

“Fine, then. I’ll call you dead.”

“As if. Didn’t anyone tell you? I can phase,” she bragged.

“You can’t stay that way forever,” Yuriko pointed out.

“I can if it’s my normal state.” Yuriko’s smile faltered as Kitty turned up the wattage on hers. “And by the way…I have this funny effect on electrical systems and computer equipment. This might hurt a little.” With that, she took a running leap and dove through Yuriko’s torso.

“AAAAAAAGGGGGGH!” Yuriko spasmed and seized before she collapsed onto the ground. She writhed in pain, and Logan and Ororo watched with a mixture of relief and nausea as her body began to unravel itself. Wounds that had healed only moments ago reopened themselves, streaking her flesh with red stripes and ragged ruptures. Her eyes were flickering…the same glazed look came over them that Logan had witnessed when she’d collapsed into the tank at the Alkali complex. Sparks and filaments of circuitry flew free from her limbs and neck as she continued to convulse.

“Not…fair.”

“Life ain’t fair, darlin’,” Logan drawled.

“You can’t…let that bastard…live. Look what he did to me. To Jason.”

“He ain’t in no shape ta hurt his kid anymore. Besides, Jason’s dead,” Logan pointed out.

“Silly man,” she huffed, flecks of blood spraying from her lips as she scoffed up at him. She turned her head as though hearing someone whispering in her ear. “You were right, Jason. Foolish, aren’t they? And so…easy…to play wiiiiiiith…” Her voice tapered off as her head listed lifelessly to the side. Logan’s hackles went up as he felt her spirit leave her. She smelled dead. Ororo was still stunned.

“You okay, Kitten?”

“Better than she is,” she sniffed, nodding to Yuriko. Ororo hated to see her so hard, at so young of an age, but she respected everything that Kitty had become under their tutelage and admired the strong woman that she had become. They scrambled back inside. Logan made a mental note to come back and dispose of the bodies at the earliest opportunity. He didn’t want to the kids to see the wreck that they made of the garage and Ororo’s garden in the morning.

Inside the mansion, Scott was bolting down the corridor toward Cerebro. He knelt by the scanner and punched some numbers into the keypad.

[Access Denied. User not found.]

“What the…JEAN! Let me in! Don’t do this!” He banged on the door until his fists began to smart throb, but she ignored him.

Inside the chamber, Jean sat at the console, pondering the events that brought her here, at this moment. She remembered lots of metal. A tank. Drifting somewhere with no sound, except for the occasional strains of a symphony that occasionally haunted her. Rachmaninoff, perhaps?

She also remembered a conversation that she had with Logan and Scott after Charles had been struck down. She’d just finished cleansing Cerebro’s module of the virus that Mystique had used to flood and poison its mainframe. Logan had been impatient and decided to ask the question that wouldn’t leave her alone:

”Have you ever…”

“Used Cerebro? No. For someone like me, it’s…”

“Dangerous,” Scott finished for her.

For someone like me… What had she been thinking? She laughed out loud at the memory. Magneto had been right; she could do anything now. She’d taken the Professor apart like a child disassembling a tower of Legos. Scott had been so simpering and afraid, completely naïve to the power she held at her fingertips. Always so controlled and careful, she mused. He’d never risk anyone’s safety, so he’d worn those stupid goggles. He’d learned to ignore the stares. He should have shown them what was behind door number one.

She eyed the gleaming chrome helmet and stroked it lovingly. “Hello, old friend. Miss me?”

Outside, Scott was leaning his forehead against the cold metal, making up his mind over his next course of action. He couldn’t delay. He searched for Jean’s mindtouch and came up empty. “Damn it, Jean, I’m coming in!” He stood back a few paces and zapped the security pad, sending sparks flying. One more piece of equipment they would have to repair by week’s end.

He nudged the doors open and barreled inside. Jean already wore the helmet, and she turned at his quick steps.

“Hello, lover.” Her green eyes were warm but calculating.

“Take that off, Jean.”

“No.” The walls began to shift and hum as the plates realigned themselves. Jean opened up the channels and began to align her mind with the energy coursing through the unit. “Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

“Only with you,” he insisted. “You know that. You’ve always known that.”

“Have I? I’m not who you think.”

“You’re the woman I love. You accepted my proposal. You’re wearing my ring. You read people’s minds. You’re a redhead. Yup. I have pretty good clue.”

“It’s just window dressing,” she assured him. “Outer trappings. A clever ruse. This isn’t my life. This isn’t my home. And I’m not your girl.” Her eyes suddenly went black, the irises surround by a ring of flame that rivaled a solar eclipse. “I’m the Phoenix. Reborn. But not the old-fashioned way. I was made.”

“What?” He stood incredulous and flummoxed, clenching his fists.

“I burned this out this morning. Handy little gadget.” She held out her palm, and Scott saw the tiny, charred disc of metal and circuitry. “It’s a neurotransmitter. It’s also a homing device that tracks my every step. It also functions as a surveillance tool of everywhere that I go. I was a bug. Even I wasn’t sure of it at first.” She laughed at the thought. “Stryker’s a real kick in the pants. Crafty, y’know? He lifted Hank’s plans for it when he was still living here full-time, researching somethings for the Professor. Charles always thought he would need a means of controlling my power in the worst case scenario that the psychic blocks that he placed in my mind wouldn’t be enough.”

“That’s not true…”

“Oh, yes. You just assumed that Charles wanted the best for us, didn’t you? Jean did.” Tension shot through his limbs as an icy chill ran up his spine.

“You are Jean.”

“No. Jean’s a tiny part of me. I’m like her…essence. A shadow. More of an afterthought. You know, Scott, back when Logan took her out of the game…all of that energy had to go somewhere.” She smiled, then pealed off a full-bodied laugh that made her shoulders shake. She wiped a tear from her eye. “Ta-da!” she finished with a flourish.

The sound of pounding feet striking steel resonated down the hall behind him. His lips were pursed as he met her gaze. Logan and Ororo came up behind him, panting.

“Hank’s on his way,” Logan informed him.

“Both of you, get out,” he barked.

“Nuh-uh.”

“In your dreams,” Ororo added. She nodded to Jean. “Hello, sister.”

“Don’t lie. You knew. I claim no part of you. You’re nothing to me.”

“To Jean, I was a friend. Even part of her family. *In the name of the love that we shared, stop this,” she ordered.

“In the name of the love that we shared, Ororo…I will weep over your grave.* You did over mine. Hell, you even helped send me there.”

“I didn’t want to!”

“Not my problem.” Cerebro hummed, and Jean turned her back on them without another thought.

“Is she kidding?” Logan quipped.

“No. She’s going to kill us all, just for starters,” Scott replied.

“Scooter…”

“Don’t call me Scooter.”

Images of mutants across the globe appeared before them, dancing holograms of people and flashing red lights illuminating the silvery walls of the chamber. Their voices rose in a din and echoed around them.

“Stop it, Jeannie!”

“Make me,” she flounced, glancing back over her shoulder at Logan. Logan’s claws extended themselves from their housings.

He barreled backwards, pinned to the wall and rendered completely immobile. He jerked ineffectually, enraged at his helplessness.

“Nice try. Your turn, Ororo.” Ororo’s eyes were already glowing white. She channeled her lightning through her outstretched hand, aiming for the helmet.

Jean through up a wall of telekinetic force and let the energy ricochet back to her, taking her down in a blast that made the air around them sizzle.

“ORORO!” Scott stared at the woman that he thought he loved. “How could you?”

“She abandoned me. You all did. I did what I had to do. Like I am now. No one’s going to control me again. If you take me down, I’ll take everyone else down with me.”

“Not quite,” Hank rumbled behind them. “Scott, heads up!” He tossed a slender band of flexible material at him, which he caught deftly.

“That won’t work on me,” she hissed. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you coming, Hank!”

“Pity. I wanted to surprise you,” he shrugged.

“I hate surprises,” she warned him.

“Too bad, sweetheart.” Scott threw the band aloft and propelled it at her with a blast of his eye beams. The band slapped itself into place around her forehead. She staggered back as the Cerebro helmet was knocked from its perch. She collapsed to her knees, holding her head in pain.

“What…did you…do to me?”

“Mnemonic scrambler. Tossed it together while I was writing my master’s thesis,” he mumbled. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

Burning pain ripped through every molecule of her body. The psychic backlash made Hank, Scott and Ororo bleed from their ears and noses. Logan was barely holding it together, but he finally dropped onto the ramp after Jean released him.

“You can’t do this to me!”

“You’re giving us no choice.”

“I’m the Phoenix! You’re nothing but sinners! You’re NOTHING!” Her powers were momentarily disrupted, so she attacked them with her words.

“Jean never would have said that,” Ororo tossed back. “You’re not her. She never would have hurt us like this. She never would have walked all over the people who loved her.”

“You…didn’t love me…enough,” she sobbed. She reached out, attempting to fling Ororo back with her teke, but Ororo held fast, and the scrambled headband glowed with energy.

“I loved you with all I had,” Scott reminded her. “If that isn’t enough, nothing else ever will be. Stop this.”

“I…I won’t.”

“Then I will.” He lifted his trembling hand and released the trigger on his visor. His beams poured forth in a flood of scarlet, striking her squarely in the chest.

“AAAAAGGGGH!”

“Ororo…”

“I know what to do, brother,” she answered grimly. She added her lightning to the barrage of energy, sending all of her determination and sorrow along with it. This impostor who wore her friend’s face and threatened the children that Ororo had sworn to protect couldn’t be allowed to carry out Stryker’s bloody mission any longer. Jean was thrown back against the console, staggered beneath the onslaught of energy.

“Jeannie…” Logan whispered.

“Jean…” Hank cried, a tear slipping out, streaking through his blue fur. The plates and panels of the chamber flew about in haphazardly as Jean gave up her telekinetic control of the room. She released a final tortured cry before she lay still. Ororo retracted her lightning just as Scott replaced his visor over his eyes. They were both numb.

Hank was the first person to stumble forward. “Is she…?”

“Almost,” Scott murmured. “I can still feel her. She’s letting me. Jean’s letting me,” he emphasized. “Her thoughts are weak, but it’s her.”

“Not the Phoenix,” Ororo added needlessly. Scott nudged Hank aside as he made his way over to her crumpled form.

Her chest heaved with her last ragged breaths. “S-Scott…” she coughed roughly. “Don’t…leave me.”

“I never could, baby,” he moaned. “I couldn’t let her hurt anyone else. She was too dangerous.”

“Yes. She was. Scott? When I was lost…when Stryker had me…I knew I had to get back to you. The Phoenix…she felt everything for you that I felt. Maybe even more strongly. She was a creature of passion.”

“I know.”

“Don’t be angry with yourself. I love you, Scott.”

“I love you. Forever. I don’t want to be without you.”

“And one day, you won’t. But that time isn’t now.” She peered over his shoulder at Ororo’s hesitant approach. “Ororo?”

“Yes, sister?” Tears were rolling freely down her cheeks.

“You did what you had to do. And it was enough. Then, and now. Don’t blame yourself. Come here.” She beckoned to her, and Ororo reached for her limp, cold hand. “Love him. Love Logan like he needs to be loved. He’ll quit running once you stop pushing him away. Promise me.”

“I promise you, sister.” She lifted Jean’s hand to her quivering lips and kissed it, inhaling the scent of her skin one last time as she cradled it against her wet cheek.

When she looked up to face Logan, he was already gone.


Outside the mansion, Logan stalked his way back toward the wreckage. The bike was still in once piece. Stryker’s car was totaled. He stared over at Yuriko’s body. Not so much as a twitch, but not dead yet, either. So far, so good. Then he remembered something that Hank had briefed him on when he went back inside. The bike was satellite-linked to another vehicle in the vicinity, sending out signals to someone watching the mansion. They had thought it was Stryker. His instincts told him otherwise. He began running and made his way out through the gates. He followed the tire tracks from Stryker’s initial entry, looking for signs of another vehicle. His search brought him back another kilometer, where he noticed more tire tracks, deeper this time, that ran into the forest. He found a black van that he didn’t recognize, and smelled a familiar scent coming from it.

Jason.

He jerked open the back latch and hauled the doors open. Two security guards whipped around and found themselves staring down a face only found in their worst nightmares.

“Boo!” He made short work of them, hauling them out and knocking them out cold with adamantium-laced fists. He stared at Jason long and hard.

“There ain’t much in broad daylight that makes me scared,” he warned him. “I wouldn’t try anything if I were you, bub.” The ruined face stared back at him, and Logan sensed fear at first, then acceptance. Then his hackled went up again.

They weren’t alone. He felt the prick of a tranquilizer dart bury itself in the nape of his neck.

“Thank you, Wolverine, for leading me to my son so I can finish him off!” William crowed triumphantly. Logan staggered forward, lurching until he sprawled over Jason’s lap, nearly knocking him out of his wheelchair. He heard the young man grunt helplessly beneath his bulk, but felt no other fight from him.

Protect me. He’ll hurt me again. Logan stared up into the eyes that weren’t as empty as they had been back at Alkali. The twisted face pleaded with him. Yuriko’s gone. She can’t protect from him. Kill me, if you have to. Don’t let him have me.

“I hear ya.”

“Move away from him that abortion,” Stryker commanded.

“Yer a minister, Stryker. Ya have no right ta call yerself a shepherd of any flock, when ya treat yer own kid like this,” Logan chided him. He was dizzy but attempting to shake off the sedative.

“He was the tool of the Lord’s lesson for me. Nothing more.”

“Can’t be too careless with yer tools. Not like ya were with me.” Logan spun and whipped out his hand, impaling Stryker without hesitation. His eyes grew wide as saucers as he peered down at Logan’s fist. His heart stuttered.

“No…why? Could have…given you…your past. He’s…nothing. Mutant garbage…”

“Look who’s talking. Only garbage I see around here is you. I’m taking ya out to the curb. No way in hell yer bringing this shit to my front door again, asshole!” He twisted his fist, plowing up through this ribs. “Ya won’t hurt my kids. They’re geeks, but they’re MY geeks.” Stryker choked on his blood, uttering one last, gurgling rattle before he dropped, sliding off of Wolverine’s claws.

*Note: I cribbed a quote from the Dark Phoenix Saga. So sue me, I wish they had used it in the movie.





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