The Vengeful Soul: Part Two

by Kerri G.

Logan pulled the rented van up to the end of the track and parked. He glanced into the back seat at Ororo and Hank. They were both asleep. The flight had been long, even though they had taken one of Frost Enterprises private jets. The rental van had been waiting for them, but the last leg of the journey had been the longest. Damn woman lived in the middle of nowhere.

Bishop stepped out of the passenger side and stretched. He hadn't been able to contact Charlotte. He hoped she'd notice they were out here and let them in. He wouldn't have come at all, but Storm insisted. He couldn't say no to her.

Logan joined him outside. "How long ya think she'll make us wait?" He lit a cigar.

"I'm thinking maybe forever," Charlotte's voice floated from behind them. "Yeah, forever definitely has possibilities. Or maybe just through the first snowfall. Might make some interesting snowmen. You got a reason to be here? Not one of you have been invited."

The men turned around. She approached them slowly, a 12 inch black metal dagger in her hand, late afternoon sunshine glinting off the lethal double edges of its length. She held it low and ready, as if she knew how to use it, *had* used it in the past. She glanced in the window at the sleeping couple. "There's nothing for you here. Go away." She turned angry, glowing eyes on Logan.

Logan had learned a lot about body language over the years. Hers told him she was furious, killing furious. He remembered that look, too. Every muscle in her body was coiled tight and ready to spring. Oh, yeah, she had Gambit here and she was protecting him. It wouldn't take much to set her off now.

"We came to help with Gambit," Bishop told her.

She wasn't impressed and looked it.

The rookie was intimidated by her. Logan took over the explanation. "We've been lookin' for Gambit, even went to find him. We couldn' stay at the mansion, Cyclops ain' wantin' us around cause we took up for him."

"I know what happened. I spoke to Emma and she told me you were coming. I'm still not inclined to extend an invitation."

Ororo sat up and rubbed her eyes, spotting the three out the window. She opened the door to get out. "Remy, is he...."

"He's alive, no thanks to his *family.*" Charlotte didn't turn around to face the other woman, but her contempt echoed loud and clear.

"Please, we must see him," Ororo reached for Charlotte's shoulder to find herself blocked by a shimmering energy field that instantly surrounded the smaller woman.

"I still haven't heard a good reason why I should allow you in my home. Hell, I haven't heard a good reason why I shouldn't fry you all where you stand." And pray for buzzards.

Ororo dropped her hand, not knowing what to say to that. Logan's eyes narrowed at the threat, it was a threat, but Bishop didn't react.

"Please," the large man asked quietly, a word that didn't cross his tongue often.

Charlotte took a deep breath and released it slowly. Logan watched her fight for control in fascination. "Okay, for now. I make no promises that you will be staying. Get back in the van." She slid the knife into the sheath on her thigh and walked to the end the the dirt road. At the very edge she stepped in between two trees...and disappeared from view.

Bishop climbed into the driver's seat, Ororo in the passenger side, and followed her in.

<Come on,> an impatient voice chimed in Logan's head. <You going to stand there all day?>

He moved through the trees to find her waiting for him on the other side. When he caught up to her she turned her back to him, continuing up a long gravel road. Trees lined either side for nearly a quarter mile, then opened up to a wide view of the valley, a small lake at the far end. Ahead was a large two-story house. The van pulled up to the front steps. Ororo flew out of the van and up the stairs, Hank following her.

"What was that?" he asked, looking back at the road.

"Security shields. Covers the whole area. I like my privacy from uninvited guests."

He let that one go by. "How is he?"

"How do you think he is? He's sick, half conscious, and willing himself to die." The words tasted bitter, her anger singing out loud and clear in every syllable. "Bishop tell everyone he was here?"

"No, Hank figured it out. To be honest, it was a relief." There was no trace of the warm, playful woman he'd spent a weekend with in New York the month before.

"Right." Her tone told him exactly what she thought of that.

"Ya got it wrong. We went after him soon as we found out what happened, Storm an' me. Didn't find nothin', though."

"He would have been dead by then." She started up the stairs. "No smoking inside."

She found them in the guest room, Ororo sitting by Remy on the bed, clasping his hand. Hank was checking his vitals, examining his hands and feet. Gambit's eyes were slit, his cracked and swollen lips slightly parted. Talking hurt, but his eyes spoke volumes. He was happy to see his friend. Turning away, she bumped into Bishop in the hall.

"Thank you for going after him," he said.

"There shouldn't have been a reason for *anyone* to go after him," she snapped. "He shouldn't have been left there." She brushed by him and entered the kitchen.

"Yer preachin' to the converted, darlin'," Logan remarked behind her.

To their surprise, she backed down. "I know. I've been without a sparring partner for more than a week, temper gets the best of me." She pulled open the fridge. "Beer?" Starting a fight wouldn't help now. Maybe later after the anger receded some and she was in no danger of actually killing someone.

Logan nodded his agreement. She handed him a bottle, then looked up at Bishop. She could still explode at any moment, he noted. He shook his head. "I'll patrol." He left them quickly.

"Patrol? Must be his way of saying 'I'm outta here'. One of these days I'm going to get into that boy's head," she mused, "if I get brave enough." She opened a soda. "Now what?"

"What?"

"You four left the team. Now what are you going to do?"

He shrugged. "Don' know. Emma wants us to come to the school an' help train the kids."

"Good idea. Isn't that what Xavier's school started out to be? Doesn't seem like that's going on much anymore."

"It ain't. We knew that when Cyke demanded we choose between the team an' Gumbo. Thought Gumbo was part of the team. Shouldn't be a choice."

"Damn," she breathed. She put her soda back in the fridge. "I need a real drink."

He followed her into the library, where she opened a wall cabinet to reveal a small bar. She pulled out a bottle of whiskey and poured a healthy glass.

He could smell the age of the liquor. "Darlin', ya been holdin' out on the good stuff."

"Watch it, buddy, and show some respect, this stuff's older than you are." She swallowed. "You want a glass?"

He nodded. She poured him one and then took a seat on the couch, kicking off her boots and folding her feet under her. He sat at the other end.

He closed his eyes and let the liquor slide down his throat. This was good. She had expensive tastes, but they were tastes a man could appreciate.

They sat there in a comfortable silence, each occupied with their own thoughts. He looked over at her to find her eyes closed. Sleep made her look even younger than she already did, even with the knife still strapped to her leg. Certainly too young to be drinking. He reached over for her glass before she spilled it, pouring the rest into his. Can't let the good stuff go to waste.

Hank poked his head into the room, then let his jaw drop as he noticed what Logan didn't, the sheer size of the library and the floor-to-ceiling shelves full of books. The room itself must have taken up more than half of the usable downstairs space. He moved into the room to peruse some of the titles. There were rare first editions of the classics, titles in every subject, even shelves of penny dreadfuls and dime novels that were popular in the last century. "Oh, my."

Logan gestured at him to be quiet, nodding to the sleep woman. Hank mimed his agreement, then motioned him outside the room.

He took a moment to ease her down on the sofa so she stretched full length. He considered taking the knife, but decided against it. She'd wake up and try to put it through his heart. Might be fun to try later. She did say she needed a combat partner.

"How's Gumbo?" Logan asked.

"Frankly, he's in better condition than I expected, given the circumstances of his ill-health. She's taken excellent care of him. It couldn't have been easy for her," Hank sat at the eating bar in the kitchen. "His blankets show signs of scorching, he apparently didn't have control of his power while unconscious. He's lucid enough at the moment, but his fever is still very high." He looked thoughtful. "I would dearly love to know how she counteracted the effects of frostbite. I don't suppose she'll tell me."

"No wonder she's sleepin'," Logan said. She was completely exhausted. "What do we do now?"

"I would like to have access to my medical lab, but as that is not a possibility at the present time, we simply care for him the best way we know. She is well stocked with the more common prescription medicines." He'd taken a peek in the small room off the kitchen and found her pharmacy and first aid supplies. Some were very familiar to him, most were not. There were many bottles labeled in an unrecognized language, many packets of dried plants. She didn't just recommend sources of folk medicine to him, she practiced the concept.

"What if he really needs to go back?"

"Then we will deal with that situation at that time," Hank said firmly. "Either back to the Snow Valley school or the mansion. I am unable to fathom Cyclops's position in this matter, but I cannot believe the professor would deny Gambit medical treatment."

"That's when Xavier comes back," Logan reminded him. "Till then, Cyke's runnin' things an' he ain' bein' reasonable." Maybe he'd get to help Cyclops's see reason. Maybe.

[next part]

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