Angel tossed her cloak into the hamper to be washed and undid the clasp on her bracelet. Watching the flickering light catching on it she sighed, and wiped a finger across the surface of the charms. There was blood on some of them and she didn’t want to leave it there.

“Doc should be done soon.” Piotr said as he unlocked a plain looking cherry-wood door and pulled out a tall bottle of whiskey. “Drink?”

“Just coffee.” Angel sank into the sofa and leaned her head against the back, her eyes staring at the ceiling. She barely felt the slow glide of a tear as it slid down her cheek and soaked into her hair, instead she blinked at the lights above her and prayed that the rest of her team would be able to find the location.

“What are some people such bastards?” She asked as Piotr handed her a cup of coffee.

“Because they get off on inflicting pain. The boys’ll get the information we need and those kids’ll be okay. We’ll send ‘em somewhere safe, somewhere they can heal.”

“Vancouver?” Rolling her head to the side she stared at him as he leaned his head against his fist, his elbow braced on the back of the couch. “Whitehorse?”

“You think they should stay together?”

“Yes.”

“Whitehorse. It’s the most out of the way place we’ve got.”

“Wonder how I’m gonna get ‘em up there?” She mused sipping on her coffee. “I’ve got to find a way of transporting them via air but I don’t have the cash right now. Not until after that social coming up next month.”

“What about the money from that bitch?” Piotr pulled out a wad of cash. “There’s nearly two grand here. And I’m sure if you were to look in her bag there’d be more. She had nine girls in her stable.”

“Okay, okay so we find out how much she had. We can use that and I’ll get one of the northern enforcers to meet them. Who would be a good mentor for them? I don’t want to dump them there without someone familiar to…”

“What about Daemon’s sister? She’s been looking for a position within the company. She could take over the group sessions at the Klondike House.”

“She’d do well.” Angel shifted tiredly. “I never thought kicking ass would make me so tired.”

Piotr smiled and moved a lock of hair away from her face. “Come on, a hot shower will do you a world of good then it’s into bed for you.”

“What about you?”

“As long as I’m back at the mansion by eight who cares, right?” He grinned at her and tugged her gently into a standing position. Tonight had taken a lot out of both of them; dealing with sick, twisted critters like those they’d killed tonight only made their resolve stronger. As he undressed he watched Angel stripping and sighed, he was beginning to doubt his devotion to Xavier.

There were more important missions out there, babies that were being abused, being sold into slavery for an adult’s pleasure and he wondered if they were any less deserving than those that Charles helped.




Rogue glanced up from her book and watched Logan stalk into their room, a dark, twisted look upon his face. Setting the thick paperback aside she tilted her head slightly before rising to follow him into the bathroom.

“Everything okay, sugah?”

A grunt was her only response and she leaned against the door jam, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “Logan, if you guys missed the pick-up…”

“We didn’t.” Logan snarled throwing his leather jacket across the room, anger in every movement. “We had to wait for a crowd to leave to get to the kids.”

“A crowd?” Rogue straightened, unease creeping within her. “Were you attacked? What happened? Did you get hurt?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. Just heard a conversation I wish I hadn’t.” Logan turned to face her, pain in his eyes. “There was a group of people there over a child. Seems there’s quite the child sex ring out there.”

Rogue paled, her stomach rolling in revulsion. “Oh God, Logan. Who would do something…”

“They beat them to death, Marie. It was like they ran into a brick wall. Left him hanging there in that warehouse with a crude message carved into his face.” Logan sank down onto the toilet seat, his gaze steady, anger and disgust competing with the dark depths. “I don’t think even Creed could have been that vicious.”

“Logan, it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have stopped them…”

“I didn’t want to.” The rough admission cost him, taking some of his control away, revealing the pain that ran deeper than he’d ever believed. “I wanted to help them. I wanted to carve him into little pieces. He bought a seven year old little girl.”

“Do Jean and Scott know this?”

“No. They got the kids and got outta there. I stayed for a few more minutes, just long enough to find out what had happened.”

“Well we’ll just have to get Charles to look into it. Perhaps he can…”

Logan stared at the shower for a moment before rising to his feet and stripping ruthlessly. “I’ll handle it myself.”

“Logan you can’t do it by yourself.”

With a pained smile he stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain into place. First thing in the morning he was going to track a certain mutant he knew, and he was going to find out what he had been doing down on the docks. He’d find out everything, and then he’d deal out a bit of justice…Wolverine style.



Rolling over to smack the alarm clock Piotr blinked groggily and glanced at the still sleeping figure next to him. The intricate designs of her tattoos were obvious in the morning light flooding through the window. Reaching out he traced over them softly, a pained look upon his face.

Each inch, each curve of the line was an indication of another soul lost to her. She took the loss of one of her angels personally. He could still remember the night they’d met, the pain, the loss in her eyes as she told him what had brought her to that downtown bar. He remembered sitting on the floor in front of her couch and drinking themselves into oblivion in an effort to drown out the sense of failure.

“Mmm, is it time to get up already?”

“No, go back to sleep, Angel.” He whispered kissing her gently before sliding out of bed.

As quietly as possible, Piotr dressed in jeans, a t-shirt and his hikers before grabbing his jean jacket. With a soft smile he left Angel tangled in the blankets and slipped out of the loft. Hurrying down the stairs he slipped into the side door of the shelter and grinned.

A multitude of kids were hurrying about, some dressed, and others still in their pajamas as they scrambled for breakfast. He watched as a couple of the newer kids took their eggs and pancakes to a corner to eat and sighed.

“They’ll come around, boss.”

“They always do.” He replied glancing at the tall, thin woman with graying hair who stood next to him. “How are the kids that came in last night?”

“Still sleeping. Ain’t one of ‘em that doesn’t have bruises, cuts, scars.”

“Ages?”

“Ain’t one of ‘em that’s hit puberty.”

“What’s Doc say?”

“Time and care.” She smiled softly. “You know the routine.”

“Yeah.” Piotr shook his head. “Angel’s still sleeping and I’ve got to head back. If anyone asks, I’ll be here tonight.”

“And what about…?”

“No one needs to know anything. We’ll keep ‘em safe. Don’t forget to make sure that everyone attends their group today. Moira and a couple of the other girls skipped out last week.”

“Angel found a therapist for this shelter?”

Piotr shrugged. “They’re all therapists. They just don’t know it. I’m off, see you tonight.”

Dorine nodded and watched him slip through the crowd of girls. Most of the girls followed him with their eyes; several followed him to the door, a look of confused trust upon their faces. He was big, dangerous, and yet they’d never seen him be anything other than respectful and caring toward them.

“What happened last night?”

“Nothing, my dear. Come on. If everyone’s finished their breakfasts, you all have group in thirty minutes and you had all better be there. Angel doesn’t need anymore worries right now.” Dorine turned the young girl away from the door, her eyes staying on it for a fraction of a second longer.

Amid groans of protest the girls she got them going, before heading to the infirmary. She had nine girls to check up on and preparations to make for their trip to another safe house.
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