Siren Song

Part Three

“Dangerous Games”

By Helen J. Lake

I paced in the small area in front of the waiting chairs in the office of my former employment. The hardest thing was to pretend that I hadn’t been there before, and that I wasn’t at all familiar with the secretaries and student assistants behind the large desk. I made a show of looking at the club bulletin board, which hung on the far wall.

“Um, hon?” Logan said in an uncertain voice. “Why don’t you sit down before you wear a hole in the linoleum?”

One of the teens at the desk snickered. I knew her—Brandy Walker, head cheerleader and all around snot. I smiled at her and sat beside Logan.

“What do you suppose is keeping him?” I asked, pitching my voice so that only Logan could hear.

“Relax,” he breathed. “We were early.”

I sighed, leaning back. I was mildly surprise to encounter Logan’s arm behind me. He patted my shoulder and smiled at me when I looked over at him. It was strange how I felt so comfortable, and yet so terrified of the situation, at the same time.

“Morning ladies,” Shelton called as he walked in. He saw us and allowed some surprise to show. “My goodness you are prompt.”

“Anxious…” I said with a tight smile.

He leaned on the desk and winked at the old secretary. Rose hmphed at him and handed him the sign-in sheet. When he finished writing his name with a flourish, he stood patiently as the gray-haired woman went to the principal’s office door. She knocked and opened it, telling him we were ready.

“Ah, Detective,” Sarge said, shaking Shelton’s hand solidly. Sarge—a nickname, since he was rumored to have been in the military, his real name was Benson—glanced at us. “Let’s get this over with.”

We went to my old classroom, passing yellow police tape to get to it. Once inside, everyone silently took in the damage. I felt my knees go a little weak and was grateful when Logan took my elbow discretely.

“Oh God,” I whispered.

The room was in shambles. All of the windows were blown out—thankfully not in, where the shards would have injured the students. Desks, mostly in pieces, were strewn about on the floor. The large teacher’s desk was intact in the center of perfection—where I had been standing was untouched and normal. Where I’d been writing on the chalkboard was still there, though someone had checked for fingerprints, it seemed.

“At first, we were afraid it was a bomb,” Sarge—Benson—said. “But no explosives were found.”

Shelton nodded in agreement. As they began to talk about what they’d found and suspected, I walked further in. Logan stuck close, in case I lost it, I knew. I gave him a grateful smile, wishing I could holler at him to back off. I opened one of the small desk drawers, finding my datebook and a small photo album. I took them out and placed them on top of the desk. The framed photo of Brad and myself caught my eye and I picked it up.

“Great looking couple,” Logan said softly.

I wiped the tears that ran down my cheeks, wondering where they’d come from. I put the photo with the other items and turned to the center drawer. A stack of papers—announcements and flyers I’d received as a teacher—looked promising. I flipped through them slowly.

“Latin club, Cheerleader tryouts,” I said out loud. “Promising New Future?” I pulled the brightly colored sheet out and glanced towards Benson, who was now looking at me. “What’s that?”

“A new club at the school,” he said easily, hands held behind himself tightly. “It’s a business club of some sort.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Was Annie involved in it?”

God, it feels weird referring to myself in third person.

He cleared his throat. “No, she wasn’t. It’s one of those national clubs with a branch in every school, run by the student body.”

I stared at the flyer, seeing that all the words on it really said nothing. “Get to know your neighbors. Knowledge is power. Overcome the odds.” I looked up at him. “What kind of business were they studying?”

For the first time since I’d know him, Sarge looked uncomfortable. “I…haven’t been able to attend a meeting myself.”

Logan spoke up. “But all clubs have to be cleared through you, right? So, you should know all about it already.”

Sarge nearly fidgeted. “It was cleared directly by the school board.”

A lightbulb went on in my head. Sarge had been forced to allow a club he knew nothing about to form. He wouldn’t be able to help us much, I gathered.

Sliding the flyer back into the stack, I sighed. “There’s so much we don’t know about her life…”

“Well, that’s what we’re here for,” Logan said. He was playing his part to the hilt, sounding encouraging and caring. I almost didn’t recognize him.

“I suppose,” I allowed, smiling at him.

I bent and opened the lower drawer. Some personal things were tossed in there: feminine items, an extra sweater and some aspirin. I brought those out too, trying not to laugh as Logan turned colors at the box of tampons. I reached to close the drawer when something flashed in the back corner. Logan saw it too and looked at me. His eyes slid to the side to indicate the others and I nodded slightly.

“Mr. Benson,” I said, wiping at my eyes again. “Can you show me the ladies’ room?”

“Of course,” he replied.

I followed him to the restroom and went inside, assuring him I couldn’t find my way back so he’d stay. I took my time and washed my hands far more thoroughly than I needed to, then dried them within an inch of their lives. I even paused to slather on some lotion and reapply some lipstick. Ten minutes after we left the classroom, I emerged and smiled brightly at the annoyed looking principal. He said nothing about the length of time I’d been gone, and we returned to the classroom.

“Oh,” I sighed dramatically. “I don’t like it in here.”

“Just a little while longer, dear,” Logan said. He had his hand in his pocket. I met his eyes and he smiled. “Mr. Benson, do you know where we can get a box to carry all of this?”

“I can get a box from the custodian,” he replied, leaving us alone.

I counted to ten, then rushed to Logan. “What was it?”

“A bug,” Shelton said. “It’s a simple kind, but it had a counter on it. I think it was set up to record any kind of cell phone calls made from this room.”

I frowned, and looked at Logan. He pulled his hand out and held it up to me. The device was half crushed.

“I deactivated it,” he announced, sounding pleased with himself.

“Did you damage the tape?” I snapped, annoyed.

“It’s not that kind of device,” Shelton added. “It merely transmits to a recording device, counting how many conversations it’s sent.”

“How many did it get?”

“Not many, only eight,” Logan said.

I shrugged. “That could be months of recording. I rarely used my phone here at school.”

Logan stuffed it back into his pocket. “Here he comes,” he mumbled.

“Here we are, Mr. Cirsei,” Benson said, giving him a filing box.

Logan set it on the desk and I began to place things into it carefully. My mind went through all of the cell phone conversations I’d had in this classroom. All of them had been with Brad, I knew…had I given something away in those innocent calls that made someone come after us?

We left the classroom as Shelton prodded Benson for more information about me. Logan carried the box under one arm.

“Annie was a good girl,” Benson said. “That’s why her job is still being held for her, in the hopes that she’ll come back soon.”

“You would take her back, after she skipped town?” Logan asked.

“What if she never comes back?” I added.

Benson shrugged. “Her position is to be left available for her to come back at any time.”

He had tensed up again. I knew it was pushing it, but I had to know.

“Was that your idea?”

Flinching under his sudden gaze, I heard him growl, “No.”

“It sounds like someone at the Board of Education is calling the shots,” Shelton said.

Benson snorted, but looked almost relieved to grouse to someone. “They seem to think that I’m expendable. Every time I question a decision they’re enforcing, they remind me that my contract is up at the end of this school year.”

I looked at him sharply. “You mean they’re threatening your job if you don’t cooperate? Isn’t that extortion?”

“Call it what you want,” he replied as we walked down the large hall. “I was told to take their ‘suggestions’ or not…and if I didn’t, to start looking for another job. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t just salute and ask how high.” He paused and gave me a sideways look. “But they made sure I knew they were serious.”

“What do you mean?” I asked gently, wondering how much he was willing to say.

“Let’s just say that I have a new dog,” he stated, eyes steely.

I gasped, fighting the horror and disgust I felt inside. Shuddering, I fell back to walk beside Logan. He took my hand and squeezed it gently as Shelton moved up to speak to Benson. Part of me listened to them, but the rest of me was longing to go straight to the Board and demand to know what the hell was going on.

Benson walked us to the main doors. He suddenly looked much older than he was as he stood stiffly. I took a good look at him, wondering if he had known how much I had respected him as a teacher.

Too late to tell him, I suppose.

“Thank you for your help,” Shelton said, shaking Benson’s hand.

We turned to leave, but I couldn’t without pausing. “One more thing, Mr. Benson,” I said softly, looking up at him. “Who on the Board is pushing you?”

He refused to meet my eyes and stared straight ahead. His jaw worked overtime and I thought he wasn’t going to answer. I started to go.

“Jenkins,” he hissed. I turned back, gazing up at the strong man before me. “God help me,” he added and marched away.

Thinking of Kurt, I made a cross in the air, hoping somehow my old boss would be protected.

We climbed into the car and sat in silence for a moment. My box was on the front passenger seat beside Shelton. After a beat, he looked at me in the rear-view mirror.

“What was that last thing before you came out?” he asked.

I swallowed and met his gaze. “I asked him who on the Board was harassing him. He gave me a name. Jenkins.”

Shelton nodded thoughtfully. “I hope he realizes what kind of danger he’s in.”

Remembering the haunted look in his eyes as he’d turned away, I closed my eyes. “He does…”

Since it was early in the day, I wanted to go to the Board of Education directly. Shelton vetoed that idea and suggested that Logan and I go to my old apartment and gather some things. I remembered what Charles had said about me going to my apartment.

“Charles believed that the apartment was under surveillance,” I said. “We have evidence that I was being spied on at school, why not home?”

Shelton nodded thoughtfully. “If you maintain your assumed identities, it shouldn’t be a problem, right? It would be expected that a family member or two would stop by…”

“Keep Logan with you at all times.”

I jumped, truly startled at Charles’ message. I shook my head and resisted the urge to clutch my chest dramatically.

You’ve been keeping tabs on me this whole time? I asked.

“Someone else is watching. Be careful.”

I’m not helpless, you know.

“Logan is fully trained.”

You worry too much.

“Yes. Do not give me further reasons to do so.”

Spoilsport.

“Charles says it’s okay to go to my apartment, as long as you’re with me,” I told Logan. He tilted his head at me, but nodded.

Shelton glanced at me in the mirror again. “It’s weird. I could tell you were broadcasting, but I couldn’t hear it. Like knowing a radio is playing somewhere in the house, but not being able to tell where.”

I smiled. “I suppose I should behave myself. Big Brother is watching.”

I was sitting on the couch, head tilted back and trying hard not to cry.

We’d gotten to my old apartment, talking to the super, who gave us a key. Once we’d gotten inside, Logan looked around and sniffed delicately.

“Four scents,” he informed me in a soft voice. His lips didn’t move. “Y—uh, Annie, and three men.”

“One would be Brad,” I declared, equally quiet, trying to copy his lack of lip-movement. “Another could be the super…maybe the fourth is Shelton? He could have been here to check for foul-play.”

Logan looked at me skeptically. “And didn’t mention it to us?”

“Okay, I don’t know.”

Then we’d walked further into the apartment and I was assaulted by memories. I could see Brad cooking in the kitchen…us dancing in the living room to our favorite song…him showing me a few of his martial moves. It hurt the further I walked. I had to sit down, calm myself.

Which is where I was as Logan stalked around. I took several deep breaths, banished the overwhelming emotions, and tried to ignore the way everything reminded me of Brad.

“Okay, hon,” he said loudly, in case we were being monitored. “Let’s get some of her things and get out of here. It’s creepy in here.”

I nodded, rising and peering around. I looked in the bookcases and on the coffee table, realizing that a few things were gone. I made mental notes of this, and kept looking.

“Want any photos off of the wall?” Logan asked.

His eyes were on the largest frame behind me, the one with a bunch of different sized and shaped mattes inside. Something made me take a step closer. Then I saw it: a slight reflection of light on the top of the frame.

“Maybe just the big one,” I agreed, taking it down. “Oh no!” I cried, allowing it to slide out of my hand at an angle. It flipped around and landed right on the corner that held the mini-camera. I heard a satisfying crunch.

“Let me see,” Logan said, pretending to be worried about the frame. He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Why don’t you check the kitchen?”

I sighed as if my emotions were getting the better of me again, and went into the small kitchen. I stood in the middle, letting myself feel the room the way it was supposed to be. Nothing seemed out of sorts in there, until I noticed that the small aloe vera plant was just a bit too far away from the usual spot.

“Poor thing,” I said, taking the water pitcher and pouring a generous amount into the soil. I spotted a few sparks and carefully plucked the tiny camera from inside of the plant. I slid it into my pocket and went out to join Logan.

“Bedroom?” I suggested.

“I’ll let you cover that,” he said. “I’ll check out the bathroom. I looked in the closet. Unless there’s some coats you want…”

I sighed. “Maybe.”

I went into the bedroom I had once shared with my fiancé. It was worse in here—the memories—and I wished for a moment that Logan had taken the bedroom.

He was probably afraid of finding something naughty.

“Alright, Annie,” I said aloud. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

I went to the dresser, lightly touching the knick-knacks and bottles of perfume. Turning, I took stock of the room, trying to figure out where I would place a hidden camera. Somewhere you could see as much of the room as possible…

I let my eyes slide around the room slowly, waiting for something to pop out at me. The furthest corner was the only area in the room that was dark, even with the lights on. Deciding that would be the spot, I casually moved around the room. I pretended to be looking at the books in the shelves directly below the chosen corner.

If I were a spy, how would I get that camera up there?

The desk beside me held the answer. On it was the tablet of paper I used for phone messages. I could see a slight impression on it. Glancing at the phone, I picked up the receiver.

“I wonder…” I muttered; making sure the show was worth it. I dialed the generic number for retrieving voice mails—one that most of the city used.

“You have three unheard voice mails,” the monotone voice told me.

“Bingo,” I replied, grabbing a pencil and propping my hand to write on the suspect tablet.

“First message: Hey Annie, pick up.” I froze when I heard Brad’s voice. “Guess you’re already gone. Sorry about leaving early this morning, I nearly forgot about a meeting at the dojo. Listen, I wanna go out for a nice dinner tonight. I’m going to pick up my tux at the drycleaners, so be ready to get fancy. Love ya.”

My chest had closed up on itself, but I forced my finger to save the message. I wrote on the paper: “Brad, dinner”.

“Next message: Miss Cirsei, this is the school calling to check on you. After the incident yesterday, we were worried about you. Please call back so that we know you’re okay.”

“Hmm,” I mumbled, writing down “school; Mr. Benson”. I chose to save the message and waited.

“Last Message: We know. End of messages.”

I nearly dropped the pencil. I made a dramatic face—frowning and looking as confused as possible. On the paper, I wrote: “?”. I saved it too and hung up. Carrying the pad, I tapped it on the palm of my hand and looked around. Logan appeared in the doorway.

“Nothing in there,” Logan said. “What do you have?”

“Voice mail messages,” I said. “I jotted down who and what they were.”

He leaned close as if to peer at my scribblings. “Anything?” he breathed.

“Bookcase, dark corner,” I replied in the same way.

“What’s that last one all about?” he said louder.

“I don’t know.” I watched him glance around the room. “They didn’t identify themselves. Just said ‘we know’.”

“They know? They know what?”

I shrugged at him, wondering how he was going to get to the camera without being overt. An idea occurred to me and I decided to use it.

“AAAH!” I exclaimed, causing him to jump and whirl around. I pointed at the wall above the bookcase. “A spider!”

I shuddered visibly and moved to the opposite corner. Wrapping my arms around myself, I whimpered.

“Don’t worry, honey,” Logan said in a macho-man voice. “I’ll get it for you. Wow. Big one too.”

“Don’t admire it! Kill it!” I demanded, remembering how a fellow teacher had reacted when she’d seen a spider in her classroom.

Logan looked around for something to squash the “spider” with. He finally spotted a pool stick in the corner. It was one of those “why do we have that?” items that Brad had kept around. Ignoring that memory, I tried to make myself smaller out of fear.

“Relax,” Logan cooed, taking aim with the fat end of the cue stick. “I’ll get him…hold still fella…”

He slammed the tip into the camera, twice, and grinned at me. I watched him grab a tissue from the nearby box, step onto the desk and collect what was left of the camera as if it was a smear of spider. He rolled it into a ball, then stuffed it into his pocket. I realized there may be more than one camera or listening device in the room.

For a moment, we just looked at each other. I shuddered once more, only half acting this time, and shuffled towards the night table on my side of the bed. I pulled it open and removed a large hardback book. The cover informed everyone that it was a collection of classical literature, but I knew better. Not willing to show Logan what the book really was until we were in a secure place, I looked at him over my shoulder.

“I guess that’s it…” I announced. “I…there’s nothing else.”

He opened the closet door, rummaging through some of the clothes there. “You sure you don’t want anything from in here?”

I came to stand beside him. He withdrew a black dress I would have worn to the dinner with Brad, had it occurred. Holding it up, he whistled.

“Annie had nice taste,” he said. He glanced at me, then indicated the closet. “And there’s some shoeboxes up top.”

I looked up there, as if I was contemplating the boxes and things. After a second, I noticed that the miscellaneous items beside the boxes were not in their usual neat stacks. “You know…I wonder if there are actually shoes in them.”

I knew that our winter gear was in those boxes—ski boots and things. Logan shrugged, replacing the dress. He reached up and pulled a box down, snagging it on the things next to it. Scarves and gloves fell into a pile.

“Oops,” he said, opening the box. “Boots.”

I stepped closer, making sure to step on the pile on the floor. I felt something snap beneath me. “Oh, well…they’re nice.”

He snorted and put the box back. I bent to collect the pile, feeling the shattered camera inside my favorite hat. I gave it a good look, deciding to play it safe.

“Didn’t we send this to her for Christmas a few years back?” I asked. I had actually received it from Jean back in high school.

“I don’t know, hon,” he replied, shutting the closet doors. “You pick out the gifts for my relatives.”

I smirked at him. He was far too good at this act. “I want this for myself, then…If she ever comes back, I can give it to her all over again.”

“We found a total of four cameras,” I said to Shelton, dumping the pieces on the table in front of him. “These jerks are just…” I was at a loss for words, so I just growled menacingly.

Logan’s eyes were wide. “Calm down, Annie!” he exclaimed. “Or you might just get me excited!”

I snarled at him and stalked away to glare out the window. I clutched the large literature book to my chest, almost forgetting I had it. I watched the two men’s reflections.

“Four…” Shelton said. “And they’re all the same kind of transmitters.” He held up a piece. “I’ve seen this type before…they only have a range of 100 yards. That means the recording device is probably in the same building.”

“Does that mean you can find it?” Logan asked.

“With all of the electronics out there, it’s getting harder and harder to pinpoint these things,” the detective said. “But, if my science guy can figure out the frequency, it will be much easier.” He stood and collected the pieces. “I’ll get these to him right away. Why don’t you two try to relax?”

I turned to look at him. “Aren’t you going to tell us what you found out?”

He hesitated and I instantly knew it wasn’t good news. “I did a little snooping, nothing too big so that word wouldn’t get back to him. Jenkins is a mystery. He just appeared out of nowhere, got himself elected to the school board, and ever since, he’s been slowly gaining power.”

“But?” Logan prodded.

“But, he hasn’t done anything overt. Nothing I can use to get a warrant to search him house or anything. Yet.”

“Good thing I don’t need a warrant,” Logan growled, cracking his knuckles.

“Logan,” I said, shaking my head sharply. “I don’t want to cause extra trouble for the police. I just want whoever is behind this to be stopped. The legal way.” I ignored his frown and met Shelton’s eyes. “There’s little chance that this Jenkins is the one running the so-called national club.”

He nodded. “My thoughts, too. Either Jenkins is a big player within the group, or he’s just their puppet.”

I considered that as he left the apartment. I could feel Logan’s eyes on me. Feeling a bit self-conscious, I dropped onto the large sofa, placing the book to the side.

“God, I need a drink,” I moaned, rubbing my forehead.

Logan grunted. “I was just thinking the same thing. I think I’ll run down to the store and get some things. Want anything specific?”

“Mmm…” I sighed. “How about cookie dough?”

He chuckled. “Lock the door behind me, don’t answer the phone, don’t do anything.”

Lifting my head, I glared at him. “Yes, Mother.”

He snorted and left. Rising, I made sure the door was securely locked before I returned to the couch. I let my hand fall on the cover of the book, not quite ready to open it up. I got a chill, suddenly. My eyes went to the window and I saw it was locked.

Charles?

“I’m here, Annie.”

Am I alone? I mean…I think my imagination is running wild…

A pause. “I shall use Cerebro to make sure.”

How long will that take?

He sounded amused. “I am already using Cerebro to track the progress of others, it will be only a moment.”

Oh. Good. I swallowed nervously, eyes searching every inch of the room.

“You are safe, Annie.” He paused again. “Why isn’t Logan with you? I told you to keep him with you at all times.”

Did I ever follow your instructions to the letter?

He laughed mentally. “Indeed not. But he is there to make you feel safe. He left and you immediately were scared and worried. I think that is a sign that I knew what I was asking of you.”

Touché, Charles.

“Calm, Annie. Logan is nearly done and is…he is now leaving the store.”

Thank you, Charles. For being there.

“Always, Annie.”

I counted to one hundred before I heard Logan’s footsteps outside the door.

“It’s me, hon,” he called.

I peered at him through the peephole anyway, then unlocked the door and ushered him in. He shut the door and locked it again.

“Look what I found!” he said proudly, holding up a tube of cookie dough. “I don’t know why you want to bake at a time like this…”

I snatched it out of his hand. “It’s not for baking, it’s for eating!”

He stared in amusement as I tore into the package, taking a large bite off of the end. Shaking his head, he took the bag into the kitchen. I listened to him rummaging around as I chewed. Charles was right, I suddenly felt much better having him around. I paused, waiting for Charles to proclaim “I told you so”. He didn’t, though I swear I felt him laugh again.

“Here,” Logan said, placing a glass in my hand.

I peered at the amber liquid, then sniffed it. “Scotch?”

“Neat,” he replied. “Unless you want ice.”

“No,” I mumbled, sipping it. “This is fine.”

We drank (and I munched) for a moment in silence. Then his eyes fell on the large book.

“So, what’s up with the fake book?”

I nearly swallowed without chewing. “How did you know it was fake?”

“Didn’t smell right,” he explained.

“Hmph,” I retorted. I put the glass on the coffee table and hefted the book. Finding the catch along the spine, I released the lock and opened to the center. A hollowed out area met my eyes. Inside was a diary and a small stack of photos.

“Your diary?” He looked dismayed. “Why would you hide it like that? Afraid Brad might find it?”

I took the diary and held it between my palms. “Actually, yes.”

That gave him pause and he stared at me. “Well?”

I cleared my throat. “I started this diary when I was in the hospital, right after my parents died. On the day I found out I was a mutant. Charles gave it to me, saying that it was good to write things out and express myself…”

“So it’s got all your mutant secrets, huh?”

“More than that, Logan. It chronicles every step, from the glass shattering in my grief in the ICU, to the day I had Charles put that psi-lock on my powers.” I turned the book over and over in my hands. “I had to bring it with me…Jean said I should leave it, or people might find it and find out what I am…”

“What about the pictures?”

I smiled, taking the stack from the hollow area. I flipped through them, letting the smile spread across my face.

“These are from my eighteenth birthday party…Jean threw such a bash…” My voice faded away as I lost myself in the memories.

“I cannot believe you are going to wear a bikini!” Jean said, shaking her head in envy. “We’re not supposed to…”

“Oh, Jean,” I huffed, checking my reflection in the full-length mirror. “You worry too much.” I decided I liked the way my tail was free to move. “Besides, do you really think Charles is going to throw me out of the school two weeks before graduation?”

She considered that. “Maybe not. But he won’t be happy.”

I wore the bikini and had a wonderful time in the pool. The boys actually paid attention to me, and I let them for once. I had to endure a fifteen minute lecture from Charles when it was all over, but it was worth it.

“Hello? Annie?”

I yanked myself back to the present. “Oh, sorry. I was just remembering the party.”

He stared at me. “I know. I could…see it, or hear it or something…”

“What?” I exclaimed. “I shouldn’t be able to broadcast…I better talk to Charles.”

But Charles beat me to it.

“It’s alright, Annie. Your powers are attempting to reassert themselves. I have allowed them to regenerate to this point.”

But why?

“Like a muscle, if you do not use it, it will atrophy.”

I could lose my power?

“The ability to control it.”

I swallowed nervously. How long will I be broadcasting?

“Until morning. You may want to keep your mind on innocent things.”

I blushed at the tone in his mind-voice. What if someone else hears?

“I am keeping it contained to a small area. No one but Logan will be able to hear anything you broadcast. Not all of your thoughts will be projected, Annie, only ones with emotional reactions attached.”

Great.

“Goodnight, Annie.”

“Crap,” I groaned.

“I gotta listen to you all night?” Logan asked, looking shaken.

Rubbing my temples, I sighed. “I’m sorry, really I am. Not even I want to hear my thoughts sometimes.”

We remained silent for a few minutes. I ate some more of the cookie dough, flipping through the rest of the pictures. Logan seemed intrigued as my thoughts appeared in his mind as I remembered more.

“I’m sorry, Scott.”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. Well, his sunglasses were aimed away from me anyway. I could always tell when he was looking at me, and right now, he wasn’t.

“Breaking up with me, I can understand,” he said finally. “But how could you do this to Jean?”

Anger flared and I let him feel it, watching him flinch. My tail whipped through the air behind me. “I’m not doing this to hurt her, Scott! I love her more than I love anyone in this world, except maybe Charles. I want to go away to school, I want to experience a dorm, classes in a normal environment…”

“In a world where you can’t be yourself,” he retorted. He faced me. “Look at you, Annie. You don’t even realize how much of yourself you will have to hide.”

“Some fur? A tail I can hardly control? Claws?” I snorted. “How are these things worth keeping around?”

He stepped closer, making me look up at him. “Because they are a part of you.” He shook his head and moved away again. “Jean’s right. You see yourself as less than human, instead of more. We’re all humans, Annie, just some of us have abilities that others don’t. You seem to think you’re not as worthy to be human—”

STOP.

I gasped, shaking at the intensity of the scene. At the time, I’d been so angry, so horribly wrong…now I felt nothing but shame and embarrassment. Especially since Logan was experiencing it all too.

“It’s like a strange movie…” he whispered.

Blushing, I stood and went to the kitchen to put the cookie dough into the fridge. I tried to keep my thoughts to myself as I pushed the thoughts of Scott and Jean away.

“So,” Logan said, appearing in the small open doorway. He leaned with his shoulder against the wall, giving me an odd look. “Did Jean know you and Scott had a fight before you left?”

I closed my eyes. “I don’t know if he ever told her. She may have known anyway; she knew me too well.” I shrugged. “I’m sorry, Logan. I wish I could stop this, control it somehow.”

“Are you trying?”

Slamming the fridge door shut, I whirled around to glare at him. “What the hell do you think I’m doing? You think I want the whole world to know what’s going on in my head? You think I…”

I couldn’t continue. Suddenly I was very, very tired. Logan didn’t seem to mind that I’d stop in the middle of my diatribe.

“You didn’t really answer my question, ya know,” he pointed out.

Sighing, I went to move past him. He didn’t budge and the doorway wasn’t large enough for me to squeeze by. I glared up at him.

“I like you better when you look like yourself,” he announced suddenly.

Moving slowly, he reached around me and pulled the small emitter out of my back pocket. I let him turn it off and set it on the counter. I shivered, feeling very exposed to the world.

“Now,” he said as if he was a teacher speaking to a student. “Try to change your image.”

Crossing my arms, I decided to humor him. I drew myself inward, gathering the image in my mind. The kitchen faded to a series of shadows and Logan blurred. When I saw the image clearly, I reversed it and pushed it outward. This took only a few seconds of time. In theory, I would look like the image to anyone nearby.

“Good,” he murmured. “Push a little harder, Annie…I can still see your tail.”

I grunted, sweat breaking out across my brow with the effort. I added a layer to the image, hiding more of my real body.

“Almost there,” he urged.

It was gone. I felt myself falling and Logan’s arms enveloped me easily. He shifted and picked me up. I could feel my head lolling and my consciousness was fading fast.

“Guess that was a bit too much,” he mumbled. “Time for bed.”

I dreamt of a hall of mirrors, like those in a circus. In the reflections, I was squashed and portly, tall and scrawny, or in a zigzag pattern. I ran through them, trying to find the exit.

Finally, there was a door. I yanked it open, but freedom was not on the other side. An arsenal of cameras and guns were aimed at me.

“Freak!” voices cried as one. “Dirty mutant!”

I tried to turn back, but the door was closed. The mob was getting closer as I fought with the knob. Finally, it came open and I ran in, slamming it behind me.

I was in a pitch black room, with a single spotlight aimed at a lone full-length mirror. Walking slowly, I went to it. I reached up with one hand, tilting the frame downward until I could see myself.

The reflection was Jean.

“Why can’t you just be who you are?” she asked, her eyes blank and faded like a corpse.

I stepped back, shaking my head and finding that my voice was gone.

“You had a gift and you used it to hide,” she accused. Her voice echoed in the large room, coming from every direction. “You couldn’t even tell the man you loved what you were!”

Dropping to my knees, I began to sob silently.

“Annie,” Logan said, shaking my shoulder.

“No!” I shrieked, sitting up suddenly.

“Damn!” Logan cried.

His exclamation caught my attention and I realized he was across the room now. Gathering himself from a pile on the floor, he approached me warily.

“Oh, God, Logan, I’m sorry!” I blurted.

He cracked his neck. “That was some trick.”

“It…it was the telekinesis,” I tried to explain. “I never could control it very well.”

He made a face. “Look, you were having a nightmare.”

I shuddered. “Yeah, I know.”

He was silent. I looked down at the blanket over my legs and wondered how I’d gotten there.

“I tossed ya into bed,” he said, answering the question. “I took off your shoes, don’t worry.”

I shifted, frowning. “And my jeans?”

He grinned. “Oh, right. Those too. Nice panties.”

A pillow bounced off of his chest. I hadn’t picked it up.

“Hey, you’re getting better at that!”

I was as surprised as he was. “Guess so.” I yawned.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to sleep then,” he said, turning.

“Wait!” I cried. I was suddenly very wary about trying to sleep. “Will you stay?”

I waited for the cracks about getting him into bed. Instead, he moved to the overstuffed armchair and moved the pillows around.

“This will do,” he stated.

I felt reassured with him in the room and shimmied under the blanket. I lay on my side, facing him. He dropped into the chair and arranged himself, tossing one leg over the arm of the chair. He sighed heavily and looked at me.

“G’night.”

“Thank you, Logan,” I whispered, yawning again.

“No problem.”

I drifted into sleep quickly.

Large red eyes stared at me.

“We know.”

“Who are you?!” I demanded.

“We know.”

Shivering, I woke up and rolled over, hoping the nightmares would stop eventually. Seeing the full moon, I scooted closer to the window to peer at it.

This is almost like the view I had at our apartment…

I tried to fight it, but the tears seemed unavoidable. Turning my face into the pillow, I muffled the sniffles and soft sobs. Or so I thought.

The bedsprings squeaked and I was jostled as a body moved up behind me.

“Logan?” I said, turning my head to look at him.

“Shh,” he shushed me, stretching out. His arms moved to embrace me from behind as he spooned me. “Just go to sleep.” I was far too tense to go to sleep, and he seemed to notice. “I promise I’m not going to try anything, Annie. I just want you to be able to rest. I figured you could use a friend, and some warmth.”

His arms were around my waist, a safe distance from touching anything indecent. He had even arranged the blankets to that they were between us. I was immensely comforted by the support. Sighing deeply, I allowed myself to relax into his chest and go to sleep once more.

It was still dark when I woke up, and Logan was gone. He hadn’t been gone long, since the bed was still warm. I stretched and acknowledged that I needed to use the bathroom. Rising from the comfortable bed, I padded to the door, which was open a bit.

An arm crossed my path, blocking me from leaving the bedroom. Logan put a finger across his lips and pushed me back. He glanced around, then followed, shutting the door silently.

“Get dressed,” he breathed. “There’s someone in the apartment.”

My eyes went wider as I realized that there was an intruder. I started pulling on my jeans and slipped into my shoes.

Oh God…the diary, pictures and image projector…

He nodded at me, then pulled the book and projector out of his back pockets. I heaved a silent sigh of relief, glad he had the foresight to bring those with him. I took the projector and turned it on, feeling myself fade into the background as the new image took over. The diary I slid into my bag over my shoulder. Logan was at the window, looking at the balcony.

Is there a way out?

He shook his head. Pantomiming, he made it clear that the height would kill me. Somehow, I knew he could survive it.

How well can you catch?

His eyes burned as he shook his head fiercely.

If you jump down, I can drop into your arms.

Shaking his head again, he snuck back to the door. He had one ear pressed against it.

How did they get past the security alarms? Charles has this placed fully stocked…

He didn’t reply as he searched for another way. I went to the balcony and gave the moon a thoughtful look.

If we can’t go down…what about up?

I felt his presence at my shoulder. Shrugging, I opened the door and stepped out into the night air. Putting my back to the street below, I peered up at the wall. We were two floors from the rooftop, and there was no fire escape.

Oh no, I suddenly realized. What if they can hear my thoughts?

He shook his head. “Would have been here by now,” he whispered.

I guess he took my suggestion seriously, because he suddenly began to feel around on the bricks, looking for hand and footholds.

“Two bricks, near the door.”

Charles’ voice had a calming effect on me and I nodded. Logan seemed to sense what I was doing; he moved out of the way. Pressing the two bricks indicated by Charles, I watched as a forcefield dropped and a ladder appeared. It led to the ground. Logan gestured in an “after you” manner.

“Annie, I am muting your thoughts to anyone but myself and Logan until you are safe. I have agents on the way.”

Climbing down the ladder proved to be reminiscent of the tree-game with Ororo. I dropped to the alley’s ground and moved to allow Logan room.

“There is a button on the last rung.”

I slid my fingers along the rung until I felt a bump, and pressed it. The ladder’s forcefield hid it from view once more.

“Come on,” Logan declared, grabbing my hand. He ran to the well-lit street and I saw that dawn was making itself known as traffic increased. For a long while, we half-jogged away from the apartment. When we were in a relatively crowded area, our pace slowed.

“How?” I huffed. “How did they find us?”

Logan shook his head, annoyingly not gasping for breath like I was. He breathed deeper, but otherwise was fine. “They must have followed us from the other apartment.”

I froze in place, not caring that people had to go around me. “But, Logan…that means they could have followed Shelton.”

He growled under his breath. “I know. We’re heading for his place.” He scowled. “Wish I had One-Eye’s bike.”

I rushed to catch up with him. “Scott lets you use his motorcycle?”

He snorted. “I use it.”

It was my turn to snort. “I think I understand the first time I saw you now.”

We walked until my feet began to scream in agony. Again, Logan seemed none the worse for wear, whereas I wanted to put my feet into the nearest tub of cool water.

“Okay, we’ll take a cab from here,” he announced.

“Now? Why couldn’t we have started in one?”

“This is a better trail, ending in the middle of nowhere, not near anything we should want to go to.”

I grunted and let him hail a cab. I shifted from foot to foot, longing to shed my shoes. Once we had a taxicab, we grew quieter. The driver seemed uninterested in us, or our silence. I concentrated on remaining calm, fearful of what we’d find at Shelton’s house.

It seemed like hours before we pulled up to a pleasant intersection on the outskirts of the city. Logan paid the cab-driver and watched him drive away. His eyes swept up and down the street, reminding me of an animal on the hunt.

“Okay, it’s down this street,” he said.

“How do you know?” I asked, wondering where he got this information.

He shrugged as we walked. “The Professor.”

“Oh,” I replied. “And we’re playing it safe by not letting the cabbie see which house we go to?”

“You’re catching on.”

Suddenly he stopped walking and began to sniff the air. I waited, watching him carefully. His fists were clenched and I knew it took all of his will not to unsheathe his claws.

“Something’s not right,” he muttered, staring at a cream-colored house across the street with green trim. He sniffed again, eyes widening. “Gas leak!”

Before I could reply, he began to run towards the house. Wishing I could sense others, I followed him frantically.

“The Sheltons are unconscious. Get them out quickly!”

I knew that Logan had heard him too. Roaring, Logan broke the door down and we raced inside. With a panicked thought, I made the windows throughout the house open, hoping fresh air would help.

“Two children in the same room, left. Master bedroom, right.”

“I’ll get the kids!” I cried.

I went left and Logan went right. I found a pair of small girls, both under the age of six it seemed. Gathering them both into my arms, I headed for the door. Logan appeared with Shelton under one arm, and his wife over the opposite shoulder. We nodded at each other and made our way to the front door.

“Away,” Logan panted. “Gotta get further.”

We went all the way to the sidewalk near the end of the grass in the large yard. Logan put the parents down, and helped me get the kids to the ground without much jostling. Shelton was mumbling under his breath.

“Go,” Logan said, touching my arm. “Go to the neighbor and call 911.”

I nodded, running to the next house. The sky was brightening in the early morning light as I rang the doorbell and knocked urgently. After what seemed like forever, the door opened a crack.

“Go away!” an old woman griped. “I saw you and your friend breaking into that house. I’ve already called the police.”

“Ma’am!” I interrupted. “There’s a gas leak in their house! We need to call 911!” She just stared at me from just beneath the chain lock. “We’re friends with Detective Shelton! We just saved him and his family from the gas, but they need medical attention! Please!”

I didn’t mean to, but I think some of my frantic worry was passed to her. She slammed the door open and stepped back, pointing.

“There’s a phone in the kitchen!”

I made the call and rushed to thank the woman. She shook her head at me, refusing to accept my hand.

“Go on, get out,” she groused.

I wondered when the last time she’d had someone in her house may have been. Her gaudy housecoat hadn’t been much to look at, but I hardly noticed as I ran to join Logan.

“Shelton’s coming around a bit. The Missus, too,” he stated. His eyes went to the children. “The kids aren’t reacting…”

I dropped to my knees, checking the children for pulses and breathing. I realized I should have done that before running to call for 911.

“I checked them all,” Logan said in answer to my worry. “But the kids haven’t changed.”

“Mmm,” I mumbled, leaning to listen to the older child’s breathing. It was raspy and low, but there. The younger one was pale and limp. Her pulse was weak and erratic. I was terrified as I felt it stop and start again. “Come on, guys…” I urged the ambulance. The pulse stopped again, and didn’t start. “No!”

Logan was at my side. “You know CPR?”

I nodded. Calling on the training I’d been through, I began to do the breathing and careful compressions on her breastbone. Part of me knew that Logan was keeping track of the other little girl and her parents. I fell into the pattern, concentrating on counting and being gentle with the small body.

“Pearl?” Shelton croaked, shifting.

I ignored him and kept working on his daughter as Logan helped him sit up and explained what had happened. I heard Shelton curse loudly when he spotted me at work. I was growing weary and dizzy. In the distance, I heard the sirens.

Breaths…compressions…breaths…compressions…

All of a sudden the little girl coughed and her eyes flew open. She coughed a few more times, and began to wail. I collapsed back onto my butt as Shelton gathered her into his embrace, crying unabashedly into her hair. My arms and lungs ached, but I’d never felt anything better.

Two ambulances, two fire trucks, and a series of police cars came screeching to a halt in the street. Men went running into the house, trying to trace the gas leak. Everything was in a haze to me and I feared that I’d been exposed to the gas too long. Logan was speaking to an EMT and suddenly I felt an oxygen mask being slipped over my face.

“No,” I grunted. “Help them…”

“We are,” a young man with a kind face told me. “But you deserve help too.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” I groused.

The young EMT just smiled at me and took my pulse. Logan crouched next to me, eyeing my face.

“She okay?” he asked.

“Oh, Logan, I didn’t know you cared…” I muttered, feeling better as the oxygen filled my lungs.

“She’ll be fine in a minute. The oxygen should help.”

“What about them?” I asked, watching Shelton as he was examined. His eyes were on his family, also being checked, and I could see how he wanted to grab them and hold them close.

“They’ll be okay too,” Mr. FreshFace EMT said. “But they’ll be taken to the hospital before we give them a clean bill of health.” He gave us both an intense look, full of awe. “You saved their lives by running in there…”

I shook my head and lowered my gaze.

“Like hell!” Shelton exploded.

Without asking permission, I yanked the oxygen mask off and tossed it at the kid and stood. Logan followed me to where Shelton was being helped into the back of the nearest ambulance. A police officer was talking to him.

“…my friends and they would never do that!” Shelton was saying.

“Shelton?” I said, pitching my voice over the hustle and bustle of the paramedics and firemen working around us.

“Courtney!” he called. I blinked, then remembered that was my undercover name. “Officer Gordon was just trying to tell me how you must have been involved in this.”

I looked at the officer, who was scuffing his shoe against the pavement in embarrassment. The tips of his ears were red and he looked scared of contradicting the detective.

“Well, he’s right,” I said, catching Shelton by surprise. “Whoever was after Annie, is after us now. They were in our apartment, snooping around. We got away without a confrontation, and realized they may have followed you home. Once we got here, we realized that you were not asleep, and were unconscious. So, you see, we are involved.”

Shelton and the officer gaped as Logan coughed gruffly. I could tell he was annoyed that I’d said that much in front of the officer, but our innocence needed to be proven. Shelton gave us both a look-over.

“How can I thank you…” he murmured. His eyes were misting up.

“Don’t even try to, sir,” I replied. “I’m so sorry you’ve been attacked in this way…”

“Oh God,” Logan huffed in annoyance. “Hey, kid, tell us what you found out inside, huh?”

Gordon startled and grabbed a fireman walking past. “Got a second to tell us what you found?”

The fireman, who’s brightly colored uniform shone in the morning light, nodded. “Someone turned off the pilot light and put the gas on full blast.”

“Sabotaged?” Gordon asked.

“Yeah, we know it wasn’t an accident. There’s some strange things about it all. No footprints or any smudging of the dust and dirt around the area. It’s like a ghost did it all.”

A chill ran down my spine. My mind was whirling with possibilities.

Not a ghost. A telekinetic.

“An intriguing idea, Annie. I shall investigate.”

“We need to get them to the hospital now,” a paramedic announced. We stepped back and let him close the doors. Gordon shifted his feet a few times.

“Would, uh, would you like a lift to the hospital?” he asked.

I smiled at him. “Yes, please!”

On to Part Four…