It always happened at night.
The darkness of the Promenade, littered with napkins and empty cups, remnants of the crowd that had loitered and lingered in the over priced shops on their way to the beach, came with a stillness all it's own.
Halfway peaceful, soothing to Jared Jenkins, the night security watchman, and of course, utterly terrifying. As a child, he had always been afraid of the dark, like most children most likely were. As a night watchman, he had long since outgrown it, holding a baton and a gun that thankfully hadn't been put to use in his three months of service to do anything than to chase homeless pedestrians from the promenade's surrounding areas. Mostly he left them alone. They had no place to go, they were hurting no one, and here, at least they had a decent place to sleep.
A safe place to sleep.
He whistled lightly, flipping out the baton and twirling it in distraction, rolling it in his fingers thoughtfully. It looked like a quiet night, and he was more than fine with that.
When the sounds of footsteps running toward him broke him out of his peaceful state, he was more annoyed than frightened.
When he heard the shouts that came with it, terrified and loud, he was more uneasy that scared.
But when he turned the corner and found what he did, he became utterly terrified.
His hand grappled feebly for his gun, the shaking of his fingers making it awkward and almost impossible.
"CORDY!"
"ANGEL!"
The figures moved quickly, the growls and groans that accompanied the fighting barely visible in the pale moonlight.
Two men, both tall and dark, one in what appeared to be black leather, the other dressed in denim, fighting off other... things... while they simultaneously seemed to be having conversations with two women who were fighting other .... things and each other.
"OW! That hurt, BITCH!"
"Rogue! Are you going to take that from her?"
"LOGAN, shut the hell up until you finish your guys, THEN talk to me."
One of the woman, taller and more slender, was struck in the face by the... thing... and she fell back, causing one man to growl.
"CORDY!"
Jared swallowed, easing toward them slowly, gun finally out and in ready position. With fumbling fingers, he managed to cock it.
It took him several hoarse tries before he managed to say anything anyone could hear.
"Ss...stt... STOP! POLICE! PUT YOUR HANDS UP!"
He didn't know if he expected immediate compliance, but he certainly didn't expect the ...things... to come after him. Panicking he shot, bringing two down, before the others were on him.
He was disarmed, and the gun was leveled on him and suddenly his leg was on fire. His head slammed against the pavement, and he cried out in pain, an aching splinter in his head as his eyes opened groggily to watch as the two men were both shot at, bringing them down momentarily, just enough time for the both women to be grabbed, the one with the shorter hair still unconscious, the one with the white streak putting up her share of a fight before she had the gun leveled in her face.
She gave no more fight after that.
The one she had called Logan took longer to rise. The one in leather was up in almost a second, screaming after them, running as fast as he could after the car that they streaked away in. The other man was up a few seconds later.
He wasn't sure, he could have imagined it, but it appeared the claws seemed to shoot out of his knuckles before followed the taller man, running as fast as he could.
Jared swallowed, feeling his heart pounding, reaching for his radio, managing to rasp into it that he needed back up, before letting it fall with a clatter next to him, and letting the darkness take him.
Angel, the vampire with the soul, sprinted as far as he could, but as fast as he was, he couldn't keep up.
With a frustrated growl, he could only watch helplessly as the van with Cordelia in it got farther and farther away.
His throat was dry and he was gasping despite the fact he needed no air and he largely suspected it had something to do with the incredible lump in his throat.
Cordy was gone. They took Cordelia. Cordelia was in trouble.
WHY was Cordelia in trouble?
He swallowed, pacing in the night as he looked into the distance, trying to put away the blind panic, clenching his fists to keep from looking for anything to kill as the demon in him grumbled, growled at him in anger for letting his best friend get taken.
It was his fault. He had left her to fend for herself, and although she could usually DO that, HE was the fighter, he was the champion, and now she as in trouble and he had to find her and if anything happened to her-
Okay... okay... calm down... calm down. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on something soothing.
Didn't quite work. Cordelia nursing his wounds was immediately what came to mind but of course she was the reason for his rage and-
Okay, not working. He continued to pace. Think... think...
Wesley. Call Wesley... call Gunn...
He never realized how badly his fingers were shaking until he almost dropped the cellphone Cordelia had given him twice, trying desperately to punch in the numbers.
He almost had the phone number dialed in when he was immediately plowed into from behind.
He grunted, taken completely by surprise, on his back to find the same guy he had been fighting in the alley straddling him, metal claws protruding from his knuckles and held directly at his throat.
Angel was too stunned to do anything but blink for two seconds.
"Where the hell is she?" the dark man growled.
Immediately Angel bucked his hips upwards, sending the guy sprawling over him, getting to his feet, wincing at the wound in his chest.
Angel rolled to his feet, balance spread evenly, on the balls of his feet, tensely waiting as his mind reeled.
This was virgin territory. Looked human... smelled human... but something was... off. Could have been the claws.
"Weren't you just SHOT a few seconds ago?" he voiced
The dark man with the whiskers glowered at him, and it struck Angel that he probably was not one for pretension.
The girl had called him Logan... and Wolverine. Wolverine?!
"Where'd they take her?"
"That is the universal question right now, buddy."
"I'm not your buddy," Wolverine/Logan growled.
Oh geez. Angel felt an annoyance surge in his chest as his eyes glanced down the road where Cordelia disappeared.
"You want a claw in your stomach? No? Then tell me where they took her."
Angel snorted. "You think if I knew I'd be standing here talking to you? I've got a missing friend to find so if you don't MIND-" He attempted to push past him, but the Wolverine guy held him, the claws now pricking at his chest.
Angel felt a growl shudder through him, one that he knew sounded quite dangerous, but the man didn't back off.
"I'm warning you," he snarled. "Back off."
The guy sniffed at the air, both hands now at his chest, the claws poised to rip though him. "You're not human," he glowered with realization. "Not a mutant. What the hell?"
"Hey! Who knew! Good job smart ass, now get the hell away from me." Angel glared right back.
Wolverine growled and suddenly Angel's eyes widened when the hands shot forward. He barely managed to move before one of the claws skimmed his side.
Immediately the anger ripped right through him, and Angel lost patience.
"You know," he growled, popping his neck as he glared, the demon face sliding over his features. "I HATE when people stab me."
Tall, dark and rude barely had time to blink before Angel lunged.
The fight was pretty much even. The guy was pompous, but he knew how to fight, thought before he jumped in, and he smelled human...
Could Angel kill a human?
Aww hell, why not?
He snapped a hand across his face and received a kick in his stomach in return, making him reel back, landing with a thud against the warehouse door.
"I don't have time for this," he growled.
"Where the hell is she?" Rude Claw Guy said, shaking the clawed hands at him. "You working for the Brotherhood bub? Didn't your buddy Sabretooth tell you what happens when you mess with Wolverine?"
"Sabretooth?" Angel repeated. "Wolverine? What the hell are you from, like a zoo?" Claw guy lunged and Angel grit his teeth, blocking the blow before landing one of his own. His fist smashed against the ribcage
OW. Did that metal go around his insides too?
He jumped, landing a swinging back kick that got the guy on the face before landing in a face off with him.
He really didn't have time for this.
"All right," he managed through the fanged teeth. "How about you put those things away and I'll put the teeth away and we discuss this like the civilized beasts I know we are, huh?"
"Where the hell is she?" the guy growled right back, words so full of anger and emotion he ended up spitting in his eyes. "HUH?! Where the hell is she?"
"I just told you I DON'T know!" Angel's yellow eyes glowed as he snapped, indicating his loss of patience. "But obviously you're missing a girl here and I'm down a seer. Seems to me this is a situation here that would bear a bit further scrutiny before we - can you NOT try to swipe at me?" he snapped in exasperation, ducking away from the swinging claws. "What part of the whole truce thing did you not get?!"
"I don't care about a fucking truce, I care about finding Rogue!"
"And I care about finding Cordelia, okay? So give those things a rest before they rust because we could do this all night and that's not going to do us ANY good."
Logan seethed, but apparently Angel's words seemed to make sense, because the hand with claws wavered slightly before finally coming down, the claws slipping back in with a sheathing sound.
Angel sighed, the hands coming down. Thick headed broody jerk.
"Who the hell are you?" the guy whispered in barely controlled rage, the wild eyes telling of the panic of losing the girl they had found him with. .
Angel went over to pick up the cellphone that was lying on the ground, flipping it open, letting the demon face slide off to take the form of his human one. "I'm Angel."
The first realization was a simple one: she was freezing.
Her body, previously seemingly disconnected from her mind and it's hazy state, suddenly plummeted down with reality, and she felt the dead weight of it come to her with a groan.
She was lying on solid cement, and Cordelia Chase, no matter how many times she said she was USED to poverty, really would never get used to that. The Princess and the Pea had nothing on her.
"Hey," a low, husky drawl cut through the silence, but all Cordelia could concentrate on, hand rising to her temples to feel the small bump on the top of her forehead was the aching pain she should have been used to by now. "You okay?"
Cordelia opened her eyes slightly, letting what dimness there was around her seep into her vision. There was a dull, resounding ache in her body, in her head, and she barely understood the words that were being said to her until a strong, hand - abnormally strong, she noted. Conan the Barbarian strong - took her by the shoulder and shook her once more.
"Hey. Wake up there, sugar. Last thing we need is you getting a concussion."
She grimaced, blinking once, twice, three times before she was finally able to rise on her elbows, finally able to look at her cellmate in the eyes.
"Well concussions are one thing I'm used to. It's never a party unless you wanna die from head trauma," she remarked tiredly, voice dripping with sarcasm as she finally inspected her surroundings, propping herself up on one elbow. She blinked, shaking her head slightly, pulling the light blonde bangs away from her face as she squinted through the darkness. "Where the hell are we?" Her head turned as she leaned toward her cellmate. And who are you?"
The young woman cocked a perfectly arched eyebrow, the dark smudge of dirt on her face accenting the movement, before she said in a voice tinged with a Southern accent that was faded from time, "Doncha remember?"
"Uh... not really no." Cordelia narrowed her eyes slightly, grimacing as she fought the throb that was beating like a hammer in her head, finally able to give the stranger a good look. Well, as good as one could get in the less than suitable lighting. It was impossible to tell what age she was. Her features couldn't have possible made her more than twenty, but her eyes... They were dark, vivid with intensity and very, very expressive. Cordelia once remembered Kate, in a fit of spell induced sensitivity, once remark that Angel had eyes of an Old Soul. That would have pegged this girl perfectly. She had an old soul... adding years to a face that couldn't possibly be any older than she was. Funnily enough, that wasn't the most striking part of her. Her hair was luminous and dark, with the exception of one white streak that ran from her bangs, framing her face with some sort of silver halo-ish effect. Interesting fashion choice, going all white. But it worked on her.
All in all, not a face Cordelia Chase would be likely too forget. Not for long anyway, and when she turned her head to inspect the walls, the profile triggered the memory.
"Oh, God. The vision! You're the girl in the-"
"I'm Rogue, yeah. Remember?"
Oh boy did she. The vision came so fast she had lost her footing, her head almost slamming against the ground before the hands of the vampire slid around her and jerked her up, pulling her against his hard body, holding her close as she dimly heard him crying out for help. She stumbled, fell, her eyes unseeing as she saw this particular girl crying softly, felt the absolute pain, the horror, and the aching wound in her stomach, the blood seeping from her. She felt the horror at the man with the claws, his features convulsed in a frightening snarl as he came forward, launching himself at her, heard her crying out in a frightened voice no-
"The chick you almost got killed?" Rogue continued in a dry, bitter drawl.
Oh, yeah. That. Not their greatest shining moment, true enough. Once again Cordelia made a point to try and find a way to kick the PTB's asses for their incredibly stupid vagueness.
"Well how the hell were we supposed to know he was a good guy! Do you have any idea how SCARY he is?"
That, surprisingly, earned her a smile, one that spoke of mischievous wit and humor. Oh great. She got stuck with one of THOSE. "Like that guy of yours is any less freaky?" The drawl at the end of her voice softened the comment some, but Cordelia, ever the champion of her mostly undeserving and broody undead boss, was still quite ready to defend him, mouth opening to issue one of her trademark retorts when she suddenly winced, falling back to the floor, causing the Rogue chick's face to morph into one of worry, catching her with that amazing strength that seemed so unnatural and settling her head on her thighs.
"Kay you gotta watch yourself. They shook you up pretty bad."
Cordelia took a ragged breath, biting down on her lips, eyes roving around the dark cell where they were confined, breathing hard until she was able to take control of herself.
"What happened?" she finally demanded, and Rogue sighed, sliding a hand through those white bangs of hers.
Rogue sighed, looking around the cell room one more time, helping Cordelia sit up as she shrugged. "Ah have no idea. But I know who's behind it.. saw him as we were brought in."
"Who?"
"Magneto."
"Magneto? What's a Magneto?"
Rogue managed a smirk before venturing into a worried frown. "He tried to kill me once in an effort to make everyone on the earth a mutant."
"Oh."
"Yeah. It was pretty bad."
"I bet." Cordelia cocked her head, her voice almost small as she asked uncertainly. "Is that what you are? A mutant?"
Rogue's eyes flipped to hers as her face became cautiously guarded. "Yes. Got a problem with that?"
"Are you kidding? My boss is a vampire with a soul," she said, as if that explained everything.
Rogue cocked another eyebrow, and finally just shrugged, leaning back against the wall. "Well I guess we wait until Logan gets the team to come get us."
Cordelia didn't even bother to ask who 'the team' was. Her mind was still splintered in pain, and she took a good gulp, attempting to clear her head.
More than likely she was bait to bring Angel here.
God she HATED being bait.
Her breath was a bit unsteady and her head still throbbed as she whispered, "Angel when this is over you SO owe me."
Dr. Jean Grey studied the lap top screen with growing unease, her mouth pursed and eyes narrowed in concentration.
This was definitely new. With a confused shake of her head, she straightened, poising her palms on the keys and typing, tapping the mouse and letting the search engine continue her work.
"Jean it is two o'clock in the morning," A voice interrupted the stillness, and Jean jumped slightly, startled by the sudden intrusion as Storm flipped on the light striding into the room to put down a pile of books, sorting through them flippantly. "Shouldn't you be resting? You have a long day tomorrow."
Jean shrugged, resting her chin on her palm as she offered her dark-skinned friend a tired smile. "I could tell you the same thing."
Ororo Munroe conceded with a slight grin. "I am not giving the presentation."
"True." Jean sighed, massaging at the back of her neck as she stretched out her back, leaning back against the chair. "It's just... this research is... amazing."
"Oh?" Ororo seemed distracted, palms sliding over a leather bound volume that was shedding dust. "Hmmm."
Jean looked over. "What?"
"This book came in mixed up with the others. It is not something we ordered."
"Let me see?" Ororo nodded, holding up the book. Jean focused her concentration, and the book floated easily into her hands, followed quickly by Ororo, who pulled up a chair and sat down next to her.
Jean studied the etching on the cover. It was tattered and torn, obviously old.
"Hmmm."
Ororo smiled, patting her on the shoulder before she stood. "I should have known it would interest you."
Jean shrugged, conceding with a smile as she put the book to the side.
"I am going to bed."
"Kay, night. I'll go to bed soon. The flight back to the school tomorrow will take all night and I don't want to get back to the school jet lagged. Have Logan and Rogue come back yet?"
"I have not looked," Ororo said, a frown emerging on her face. "Would you like me to check?"
"No, no, that's all right. I'll check in on them later. The last time some one startled Logan in his sleep she got impaled. I'd rather that not happen to you."
Storm grinned. "That was over three years ago, Jean."
"Yes well.. what was that about you can't teach old Wolverine's new tricks?"
Storm chuckled, striding to the door.
Jean frowned, looking back to the screen. "Do you believe in demons, Storm?" she asked suddenly.
The wind goddess paused in the doorway, hand poised to close the door behind her. Her features were curious as she responded, "Pardon?"
"You know," Jean continued. "Demons. Vampires. Creatures of the night?"
Storm's eyes darkened in mirth. "I believe that if mutants exist, then other beings may certainly exist. May I ask what brought on this question?"
Jean flushed slightly, shrugging as waving a perfectly manicured hand to her computer. "It's just... I was doing some last minute research, statistics and facts for the conference tomorrow and I stumbled on this-" She turned the laptop screen so that Ororo could look closer.
It was a demonology search engine. Jean had typed in vampires and hit a slew of information.
"The meticulous research dedicated to this is amazing,'" she continued, as Ororo leaned forward, pushing the scroll button down to wade through the entries. "Scholarly and... the MYTHS, the urban legends! Like this one, here!" She clicked on one entry. "Talks about a vampire with a soul, who helps people."
"Interesting," Ororo said, scrolling down. "A seer?" she said after a minute.
"You caught that to?" Jean shook her head. "It's just... fascinating... and kind of scary that people would dedicated so much time on ... this."
Ororo smiled, once again moving toward the door. "Like you've been doing all night?"
That earned her another sheepish grin from Jean. "Good night, Jean."
"Night, Storm."
She crossed her arms, looking over the entries, reaching over to click on another link when the phone rang.
Her eyes were still on the words as she reached over and picked up the hotel phone, holding it to her ear.
"This is Jean Grey."
Upon hearing the voice, her eyes immediately jerked away from the monitor. "Logan?! What's- No- ... Okay. Are you- Okay." She slammed down the receiver, darting toward the door. "STORM!"
Immediately Ororo was back in the doorway, sliding on a robe over her night gown. "What is it?"
"We have to call the mansion," Jean said, already dialing. "Something's happened to Rogue."
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Remember the whole "not too distant" future thing? Let's disregard that for now. We'll just say that the not too distant future is now, at least a year from now, in Angel's time. Spoilers for the first X-Men movie and up through the second season finale of AtS.