The X-Men saw him as soon as they ran down the Blackbird’s opened hatch, Nightcrawler standing grimly beside him. The Wolverine’s face was blackened with fury, his chest heaving with the effort to hold back his rage. He was dressed in uniform, his fingers twitching.
“Yer wasting time, Chuck,” he growled through clenched teeth when the professor stopped in front of him. He eyed Cyclops accusingly. The X-Men leader met his heated glare steadily, silently accepting responsibility for what had happened hours earlier in Washington. Storm squeezed Cyclops arm in passing, disagreeing on his take of things during their flight back, but recognizing that arguing the point now would do nothing to get Anna back. That was all that mattered.
Professor Xavier had already rushed down the hallway to the large room where Cerebro was situated. The rest of the X-Men geared up and began refueling the jet, each avoiding the enraged feral who remained standing in the middle of the hangar, all of them well aware that the Wolverine was barely in control.
They raced back to the Blackbird and had just finished strapping themselves into their seats when Charles Xavier contacted them telepathically.
~ She is in Natchez, Mississippi. I am sending you the co-ordinates and I’m imparting a visual of the building she is in. Hurry X-Men. ~
The students watched from their dorm windows as the sleek black jet rose up from underneath the opened basket ball court, hovering momentarily, its rockets gathering power before streaking across the cloudless, late afternoon sky.
St. John Allerdyce was looking up at Anna Marie, lying unconscious on the bed in what used to be her old bedroom. “Who would have thought Rogue was a member of the original Brotherhood?” he wondered out loud.
He was sitting on floor, the clicking of his lighter making the only other sound in the small room. The silence was grating on his nerves. “All this time, I thought I was the bad seed in Xavier’s high school of misfits, meanwhile, Rogue was the full blown weed.” Pyro laughed, nimbly jumping to his feet to stand over his former friend.
“I always knew there was something about her.” His eyes took on an appreciative gleam, taking in Rogue’s curvaceous form. Mystique frowned in annoyance from where she was sitting at the foot of the bed.
“My daughter is no weed, Allerdyce.”
He shrugged, turning his attention to small pretty woman with the short dark hair, who, in his opinion, suited the blond wig more. Melanie, also known as Blindspot, had her hands on both sides of Anna Marie’s face, her own tense with concentration as she sorted through the memories she was encountering. Spiral was standing by the window, her eyes fixated outside, watching.
Pyro was getting antsy from the lack of conversation. “Does Magneto know?”
Mystique pointedly ignored him, but the slender man continued, trying to wrap his head around what he had just learned. “Can you imagine how different things would have been if Rogue stayed in the Brotherhood?” He shook his head. “That was some ugly business at the Statue of Liberty a few years back, she still has that funky white stripe in her hair. I remember Rogue really hating you.” He laughed, flicking open his lighter again. “That’s going to make for some awkward conversation around the family dinner table, mommy dearest. God, I can’t wait for her to wake up.”
The narrowing of Mystique’s yellow eyes gave the only indication that his words affected her. She kept her eyes focused on Anna Marie.
Spiral turned to Pyro, flexing her many arms. “Let’s go wait outside,” she suggested, growing annoyed herself at his constant prattling. He lifted his hands, palms up, to illustrate no foul before leaving with the transporter, smiling. This was the most excitement he’s had in a long time and it was only going to get better in the next few hours.
Reaching out with a gloved hand to hold her foster daughter’s hand, Mystique’s eyes flickered between blue and yellow. No, Erik had no idea about Rogue, having joined Mystique’s Brotherhood of Mutants after Anna Marie had run away. She could care less about what his reaction would be. His abandonment of her after she temporarily lost her powers from getting shot with the cure removed any sense of loyalty she had to the man who she hoped lived the rest of his natural days in the plastic prison that now held him.
Mystique's thoughts turned to the betrayal that cut her deeper. Destiny had never told her of the premonition she had of Anna Marie's death at the hands of the Brotherhood. After the incident with Ms Marvel, Destiny convinced Blindspot to remove memories from both Mystique and Anna Marie, leaving her foster daughter with nothing but the memories of them as Irene Adler and Raven Darkholme - their civilian forms - and Mystique with no memory at all of her beloved foster daugher. Destiny had passed away years ago, taking what she had done to the grave, little realizing that her premonition had almost come true anyway.
Her heart icing over the ache, Mystique eyes rested on the young woman working on Anna Marie. She had used Blindspot as well, having her remove Anna Marie’s memories repeatedly each time Mystique forced her foster daughter to use her mutation. It had been unavoidable; Melanie’s particular mutation didn’t take skill and knowledge from her victim, whereas Anna Marie’s did. Anna Marie was so young, Mystique was sure, given time, she would have stopped protesting and agreed with the Brotherhood’s goal of achieving mutant supremacy over baseline humans. But she had been forced to run away, almost straight into the clutches of those X-Men fools.
Learning that the Wolverine had a son was almost as shocking as the discovery that she herself had a daughter. It was sheer luck that Daken had met Melanie at an art auction in Brussels where he had enslaved her under his pheromonal influence to gain access to her wealth. In time, Blindspot exposed her mutation and long standing secret to him in a misguided attempt to impress her new lover and now, here he was, using the information to his advantage.
Mystique took the place of Spiral at the window and peered outside, asking Blindspot in a cutting voice, “Have you discovered any information in regards to the mutant that Daken wants to locate?
Melanie shook her head, frowning. “Anna Marie has no memories of her. There’s nothing here. Nothing at all.”
“That’s impossible. That mutant’s been delivering children to the X-Men Academies over the past two years, many to Anna Marie’s location in Mississippi specifically. There must be something, a name at least.”
Blindspot bit back a sharp retort. “There is nothing. No images whatsoever of a golden angel-like creature that Daken’s so desperate to find.” Melanie felt fear stab into her, thinking of him and fell silent. He was going to be upset. She looked down at Anna Marie, face softening. At least she was back in her life.
Mystique looked towards her, agitated. “Have you not accessed Anna Marie’s memories of the past fifteen years?”
A shadow crossed over Melanie’s face, the savage jealousy that had taken hold of her earlier returning in a hot rush. Yes, she had accessed Anna Marie’s memories – that was her particular mutation after all; stealing and implanting people’s memories at will - but what she had seen infuriated her.
Anna Marie was able to touch.
Melanie had always thought that her immunity to Anna Marie's mutation would have led to her younger friend falling in love with her. When Destiny asked her to remove all memory of her from Anna Marie's mind, she had comforted herself with the belief that Anna Marie would always remain untouchable and unloved. The famous Anina’s reputation of being a cold, heartless woman had supported that belief. But now, Melanie knew different. The images of Anna Marie touching and being touched stabbed at Blindspot’s heart, enraging her, taunting her. And a special hatred for the Wolverine began to develop deep within her.
“Keep looking, Blindspot. We don’t know how much time we have before they locate us.”
Daken assessed the unconscious figure lying on the bed. Learning that she had nothing to offer in terms of locating the mutant his employer wanted found was disappointing, but he learned long ago that patience was always awarded. His flight back to Japan was leaving in an hour, but he wanted to see her, this famous Anina who used to be an X-Man. Like his father.
He reached out to grab some of the startling white hair that framed her face, glowing almost, against the darkness of the remaining locks that flowed around it. The Mohawk haired man twirled the strands around and around his finger until he touched her smooth forehead. He tugged, and her head shifted, but otherwise, she did nothing. Aware of Blindspot watching his every move from the far corner of the room, he climbed onto the small bed and placed a leg on either side of the beautiful woman, sitting back on his feet.
“I can see why you want her, Melanie,” he told her, tilting his head as he took in the shape of the woman beneath him. Curious, he focused and allowed his arousal to surround them, smiling when a small moan escaped her full lips. Blindspot’s startled gasp behind him made him smile further.
“Well, well. Unlike Mystique, this piece of tastiness reacts to me just fine.” He unsheathed one of his claws. Daken plucked off the buttons of her shirt, exposing the black lacy bra underneath, and with a decisive downward slash, cut away her skirt, revealing the matching panties. His eyes narrowed, blood rushing through him in reaction to more of her body being exposed for his perusal.
“Come here, Melanie.”
Melanie approached him, afraid for her, afraid for Anna Marie. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, flipping it over his shoulder to fall to the middle of his powerfully muscled bare back, the expression on his handsome face patient, almost kind. He gently patted the spot on the bed beside Anna Marie’s head and she sat down, docile, eyes downcast as they always were whenever she was near him. But then, she couldn’t help herself, Melanie’s eyes looked up and took in Anna Marie’s body, feeling heat pool between her legs.
Daken’s laughter made her ears burn.
He began to rub himself, his erection clearly visible against the tight black leather pants he wore. Retracting his claw, he laid his open hand on Anna Marie’s throat, squeezing it as though he intended to choke her. Fascinated, Daken saw that she began to breathe deeper, dragging in his scent deep into her lungs, heating up beneath him. Daken lowered his hand to her breast, curling away the lace of her bra so that the full, rounded flesh filled heavily into his palm. At his touch, she arched her back and he growled instinctively.
“Get out.”
Melanie hesitated, fear and anger battling within her. She wanted to be the only one to touch Anna Marie, but at the same time, she wanted Daken to touch only her. Her conflicting emotions made her hesitate too long and he snarled. Daken only had eyes for the woman on the bed, mesmerized. He ran a thumb over the beaded tip of her breast, his growl deepening when Anna Marie responded by spreading open her legs. His breathing shallowed.
“I said, get OUT!”
Blindspot jumped and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Daken was barely aware of the sound, eyes fixated on the woman who was now gyrating under him, making sounds that told him that she was on fire, the heady aroma of her own thick arousal grabbing hold of him.
“Who are you?” he asked in a whisper, running his hands along her thighs, wishing she would open her eyes. She began to growl; fingers digging into the bed and he felt the feral in him respond. He impatiently pulled his pants past his hips and wrapped a hand around himself, hissing in relief as his fingers ran over his engorged length. He grabbed her legs roughly and threw them over his shoulders, positioning himself to bury himself inside the submissive female beneath him, consumed with lust.
“Get off my daughter!” Daken felt himself be pulled away and thrown against the wall, causing all six of his claws to spring forward as he faced the enraged morphing mutant.
Mystique had transformed into him, sprouting her own version of his claws, and held them up against his throat, a murderous glint in her still yellow eyes. With a roar, he spun her around and pinned her up against the wall, momentarily unsettled by the eerie mirror image of himself.
“I can kill you!” he reminded her viciously, his thwarted desire pressing against the hard abdomen of the exact duplicate of himself.
Mystique was well aware that she was seconds from being gutted, but she was more afraid for her daughter, lying on the bed, half ravished. Knowing him, she looked down at his lips and said in a perfect cadence of his own voice, “I am sure you and I can come up with an alternate option for entertainment, Daken.”
Breathing hard, he kept his eyes on her. The feral in him demanded that he return to the responsive female laying on the bed, but suddenly, his mouth was captured by its twin, his body pressed up against a body identical to his own. Another fire raced through him. This was interesting.
“I like your style, Mystique.” He wrapped her/his hand around himself and stroked downwards, before biting into her/his neck. Laughing softly, she/he backed out of the room to lead him out into the hallway where the door to Mystique’s bedroom slammed shut behind them. Watching her/him take him deeply into her/his mouth, Daken smiled. This would be a pleasant enough diversion before he left. With a grunt, he focused on the ministrations of the mutant kneeling before him.
Out in the hallway, Melanie shook with fury. This was going all wrong. Silently, Melanie re-entered Anna Marie’s room, tenderly pulling up the bed sheet to cover her.
Blindspot knew what she had to do.