The Vengeful Soul: Part Five

by Kerri G.

Remy's fever shot up to a dangerous level that night. He thrashed in his bed, despite the mind link Charlotte forced on him. Bishop and Logan held him down while Hank tried to cool him off with ice. The remedies they'd tried weren't working with his physiology. They repeatedly bathed him in the melted-snow water of the lake, but to no avail.

"If only we were back in my lab," Hank gritted between his teeth. A hospital would be the next choice. Maybe with an extra bed for him, the hangover was killing him. He'd never take another drink as long as he lived unless he poured it himself. Maybe bottled it himself, too.

"It'd take too long to get him back," Logan said.

"Hank, if you can get him quiet enough for the trip, I'll take him back," Charlotte said. She sat in a chair behind the bed they'd pulled out from the wall. She had both hands on Remy's head, trying to ever so gently force her will on his rampaging mind without damaging him. It was all she could do to keep him from charging the bed itself.

"I don't know how you kept him quiet up to now," Hank wondered aloud.

"I crawled in bed with him and held him close," Charlotte answered absently, concentrating on her task. "Calms most men down pretty quick. Works for snoring, too."

Remy's eyes rolled open and fixated on Ororo next to him. "Stormy, it's s'hot."

"We are going to take you to the med lab," Storm told him, wiping his face with a cold towel. "You must be quiet."

He nodded as though he understood her words, glassy eyes glowing red and black.

"Storm, call the mansion, please, and tell them we're on our way," Hank wrapped the sheet around Remy's naked body. The heat poured off him in waves. He coughed weakly, unable to get air into his lungs.

"What arrival time should I tell them? Should they send the Blackbird?"

"Tell them about 5 minutes, no bird," Charlotte answered.

Storm's eyes widened, but she disappeared to the kitchen.

Charlotte used a few precious minutes and gave his mind one last careful push, then let go. Hank lifted him up.

Bishop took Remy from Hank. "I am more accustomed to the transfer," he explained briefly. Logan gave them both an inquiring look. He didn't like secrets, and Bishop was turning out to have more than his fair share.

Storm set the phone back down as they passed her. "Jean said all clear. Scott is not currently on the estate. She will be waiting for us. "

Charlotte led the way to the gate room, stopping briefly to strap on the weapon she'd worn to greet them on the road. She disabled the bio-lock to let them in.

"We can't all go. Maybe someone will stay behind?"

Every face looked at her in harsh determination. She let out a sigh. No one wanted to cooperate at all. She was fast regretting the impulse that let them stay.

She wrapped a homing belt around Bishop's thick upper arm and motioned him onto the gate platform. Hank joined them along with Storm. They were gone in a flash of light.

"Darlin', ya got a lot of explainin' to do," Logan drawled.

She fastened another homing belt around her waist. "Sez you and what army, babe?" She grinned at him. The prospect of a fight lit her eyes from the inside.

He grinned back, then swept her up in his arms, kissing her hard, and carried her to the gate.

When she broke the kiss and opened her eyes, they were on the mansion grounds. Hank and Bishop were disappearing through the front door with Remy, Storm and Jean right behind them.

Charlotte pulled away and ran after them.

Hank had Remy on the examination table, attaching sensors and turning the equipment on. Even his headache seemed to subside a bit inside his familiar environment. Now he didn't feel so helpless.

Charlotte pushed past Bishop and the women, putting a hand on Remy's forehead. "He's charging," she said shortly, taking both his hands in hers, absorbing the energy. The Cajun fought her, squeezing her fingers in his stronger grip, but she held on, drawing the power from him.

Hank prepared a hypodermic and injected the patient. He went limp, his hold on her hands slackened.

She released him and flexed her fingers, wincing a little. "That hurt." She brushed his hair off his face with a tender gesture. "Anything I can do, Hank?"

"Not now."

"Okay. I'd better step outside and fire this charge before I do something foolish." She turned around and came face to face with Warren. "Too late."

Warren stood at the doorway, a heavy scowl on his face. "Is he-"

"No, he's still alive. Sorry about that." Charlotte's voice cut through the sudden tension. One hand rested on the hilt of her dagger. "You here to finish the job?"

"Maybe I will."

"Maybe you'll deal with me." The air crackled around her with suppressed fury. She looked happy at the challenge, hungry for it.

Bishop jerked Charlotte up and over his shoulder, catching her unawares, and carried her out of the lab and down the hall, her curses ringing in his ears. He took the elevator down one floor to the Danger room. He slipped her knife from its sheath, tossed her inside and ducked out of the way, the doors locking automatically behind him. She must have jumped after him, he heard her body hit the doors.

In the control room he looked down at her yelling at him. From past experience he knew carrying around the extra energy was causing her to behave aggressively. At least she was yelling. It was when she stopped she got dangerous. Warren presented a convenient, eager target.

"What's goin' on?" Logan entered behind him. He'd got there in time to hear her berate Bishop all the way down the hall.

"Trying to avoid trouble," Bishop muttered. "She took a charge from Gambit, it's making her crazy. She's got to let it out. Any suggestions on a fight program?"

"I'll go in," Logan said, his eyes lighting up. "Just give us a little privacy." He'd been wanting to see her fight since yesterday morning when he found her practicing. Wanted to see how good she really was.

Bishop waited until Logan entered the Danger room, hearing her scream in a multitude of languages, then the sound of a body hitting the floor. He engaged the privacy protocols and left them to it.

"What did you do with her?" Hank asked when he returned to the med lab. Warren had been ordered to leave, mumbling words about traitors.

"She is occupied in releasing the charge. She has a tendency to become more aggressive when she has a surplus of energy, particularly in an emotional situation."

Betsy joined the group gathered around the bed. "Will he be all right?" Warren glared at them from the doorway, but knew better than to try anything with the women around. Not on a bet would he tempt the fury of an X-woman. Not when each one of the three surrounding the murderer's bed could take him apart and reassemble him in new and interesting ways.

"Yes. Charlotte kept him alive this long, we're not going to lose him now."

"She seems very passionate about his safety," Betsy commented.

"She does appear to be very overprotective of Remy," Hank mused. "Why is that, Bishop?"

"She has her reasons." Her odd notions of family.

Charlotte fell back, panting hard, from a blow to her mid-section, barely avoiding the full impact. Logan was pulling his punches, she thought irritably, her eyes narrowing. Time to change the tune, maybe show him some Indian wrestling, the old-fashioned Quapoan way. Just like Raven taught her. Cover and attack.

She heard Raven's voice in her head. 'When hard pressed in battle, confuse your enemy.'

Logan watched her move to her feet, fluid, graceful. She'd been running on pure heat and adrenaline for the last hour, striking wildly, but fairly accurately. She had moves and techniques that he'd never seen before. She made him struggle at this, work at not seriously hurting her. He wondered if she brought the same intensity to everything she did. He certainly hoped so.

Then her scent changed, the way she moved changed. The look in her eyes focused on him for the first time and not her anger. She began chanting softly, he could barely hear the sounds of the words.

Instead of leaping for him, she circled around him, moving like she did in the forest at home. Almost like he was her prey. It suddenly tickled him to be the one hunted. Kicked his libido up a few thousand notches, too, the female predator inside her emerging.

Charlotte automatically noted the change in his attitude, the aggressive male coming into heat in response to her unspoken invitation. In a few steps, she shielded her herself. A few more and she disappeared from his view, using the magic to hide completely, the medallion glowing hotly against her skin before it too was gone. Confuse, cover and attack.

He could still feel her, she couldn't hide from his senses. The air around them thickened, he could almost hear the rough purr in her breathing before that was gone as well.

A soft touch stroked his lower lip. He snapped at it, growling. More touches, the side of his face, his chest, across his ribs and stomach, hip and thigh, senses that were already heightened in the fight now sparked into passion. He made a grab for her and missed, the momentum taking him forward in a roll.

Logan jumped back to his feet, remembering belatedly Thomas once saying she didn't fight fair. Two could play this game, *if* he could ignore the clamoring of his body long enough to act out his part. He stood still, feet planted apart, head lowered and shoulders hunched slightly. He waited. He didn't have long to wait.

A hand traced a line from his ear down his chest to the waistband of his pants. His muscles tensed, but he didn't move. His shirt was pulled free, the buttons popping off. Then her hands caressed his skin. He still couldn't see her, but he felt her. He closed his eyes, they weren't much help at the moment, and tried opening his mind to seek hers out.

The psychic feedback slammed into him hard, his whole body jerking back with the force of her emotions whiplashing through his soul, hitting the wall and sliding down to rest on the floor. He gritted his teeth against the wave of lust that encompassed him, a distinct 'alien' feel to it. Then he realized it was her bloodlust he felt, bloodlust that had altered into intense sexual hunger, wholly feminine and unfamiliar to him.

She lost her cover at the sudden release of emotion, becoming visible as she fell back from him. With the release and the resulting explosion of her senses, she could do nothing more than lie on the floor and struggle to bring herself back under control, her breathing ragged and harsh.

After long minutes spent in comparative silence, the sounds of labored breathing surrounding them, Charlotte slowly moved herself into a sitting position. She looked at Logan looking at her and offered a half smile. "Next time we try this with swords, 'kay?"

He found it in him to chuckle at her hopeful words. "Nah. Next time we do this," he crawled over to straddle her body between his arms and legs, forcing her back down, "we'll do it in a more private place, darlin'." He leaned down to cover her mouth with his, kissing her thoroughly. She didn't bother to agree or disagree, just wind her arms around his neck and returned his embrace. Too bad it wasn't more private.

Charlotte strode back into the lab in her disheveled state, ignoring the looks the others gave her. She'd taken Logan's shirt to cover the rips and tears he'd put in hers. Hank's eyes roamed over her several times before he cleared his throat.

"I take it you managed to release the extra energy?" he asked wryly.

"Yeah," she answered offhandedly. "You should see the other guy." She brushed her hand over Remy's forehead. "He's cooler, resting easier. When will he be ready to travel, Doctor?"

Bishop stood scowling in the doorway, but he handed over her knife at a level look from her. She resheathed it, giving him a warning glare, telling him without a word what would happen the next time he took her weapon.

"Isn't that Logan's shirt?" Jean asked. Charlotte turned her gaze on the redhead. "What I meant to say was that the professor will be here tomorrow. If you would stay the night, we can get all this straightened out." Jean was embarrassed at the personal question that came out of her mouth. It was none of her business.

"I think it is a good idea," Storm added.

"Fine, you stay. I'm taking Remy back as soon as he's fit to move."

"You cannot do that," Storm told her, slight commanding tone to her voice.

"The hell I can't." A hand on her weapon indicated her willingness to put Ororo to the test. "This team already threw him out and I found him. Makes him my responsibility." And she thought that fight released all her stomp 'em urges. She found one more inside just aching to get out and crash on someone getting in her way.

"Why are you so attached to him," Jean asked Charlotte. She got the sense of something else here, something beyond the ordinary consideration one might expect from a relative stranger.

"It's personal. Family business."

[next part]

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