Drops of Crimson: Searching

[ladydeathfaerie]

Title: Drops of Crimson: Searching

Chapter Six: Revelations
Fandoms: a mash up of the Mutant Sues, the movie Sues, the Supervillainesses, and probably anyone else i can think of tossing in for good measure
Characters: various from the different universes
Rating: going with a pretty strong NC-17 here. seriously.
Warning: violence, sex, language, possibly other things. we'll know when we get there
Disclaimer: i do not own anyone from the Marvel universe. nor do i own anyone from other universe. Dare is mine, but you don't want her. honestly. girl's a mess. oh, Mystery is mine, too. you don't want her, either. she's moody. Rose belongs to nanaeanaven i swear i'm not making any money from this. i just do what the sick voices inside my head tell me to. i write purely for my enjoyment. and possibly the comments. please don't sue, harass, or bother me. i have no money to pay you, but i do have a really nasty temper. and i know some good cuss words.

Author's Note: so, its like this. Drops of Crimson: Hunted was only supposed to be a one shot type thing. but i started writing and the bunnies kept twitching their noses and suddenly i was staring down the snout of a plot dragon. and... welp! here we are! is anyone really surprised by this? nobody? didn't think so. hopefully this won't be super long. you know. by my standards...

Summary: "Why didn't you tell me? I'd never have involved you in this mess if I'd known"

Drops of Crimson - The Index

Clint glanced over his shoulder to ensure he was alone. It wasn't unheard of for Dare to creep up on him when he wasn't expecting it. She had an uncanny habit of showing up without making a sound and he was at a loss as to how she did it. Especially since he knew that she generally made noise when she walked. But there was no one lingering in the darkened corners of Tony's private study. He was all by himself, which was just the way he wanted it. Certain that she wasn't going to just pop up out of thin air, he returned his attention to the screen before him. With a few keystrokes, he had Tony's personal search engine opened and ready to go.

He put in his first search item: "Unexplained New York state fires."

It took less time than the blink of an eye for the computer to come back with a massive amount of search results. He frowned and entered in a few words to refine his results. "Unexplained New York state fires involving motels."

That one cut down on possible results quite a bit. Clint considered whether or not to try and refine it more, then keyed in one more qualifier. "Unexplained New York state fires involving motels between five and ten years old."

He'd barely hit enter when his results popped up. There were very few of them. Tony's search engine was so much better than anything the commercial companies had to offer. Mostly because it was geared to work in much the same way Tony's brain did. Clint didn't use it very often, but after his conversation with Dare the other night, things she'd told him had been nagging at him and he was determined to see if he could find some answers. It was so infrequent that she spoke of her life before meeting him. He thought it was understandable that he was curious about the woman he'd welcomed into his home and his bed and even his heart.

Clint considered each result carefully before clicking his first link. It was obvious by the time he'd hit the fourth paragraph that this wasn't the right fire. He clicked back to the results and moved on to the next link. Another dead end. He moved on to the third. And the fourth. And the fifth.

It wasn't until he started reading the tenth article that he felt like he'd finally found the one he was looking for. In it, the reporter spoke of the devastating fire that had swept through a small, out of the way, family owned motel located on the edges of a small Pennsylvania town. Fire fighters had been called the moment someone had spied the flames. By the time they'd arrived, the entire complex was engulfed in a roaring fire and the only thing they could do was train their hoses on it and put it out.

It wasn't until the next day that they'd found a few corpses in the charred ruins. One body had been that of the owner, found in one of the rooms. Fire fighters speculated, based on a few items they'd found near the corpse, that he'd died trying to fight the flames. Another room gave up a pair of bodies, those of an older couple just passing through on their way to a family reunion in Maine. One last body was found, belonging to a local high school boy.

Clint frowned and sat back. Dare'd mentioned something about a boy hurting her. He was pretty sure she hadn't used the right word, though. He felt confident, based on what she had and hadn't said, that the boy had raped her. He didn't know exactly what had happened, but he felt it was a safe bet that she'd used the flames to protect herself. The boy must have told her that he'd only gone out with her on a bet or some stupid teenage shit like that. She'd even mentioned there had been a bet and he'd gotten the idea that she hadn't been very popular in school. No doubt finding out that the boy had used her for monetary gain had made her mad. If her temper had been anything like it was now, Clint had no problem believing that she'd been upset and hurt when she'd started the fire. He wondered if she knew about the boy's death. Something told him she didn't. He was pretty sure that she'd be wearing another scar if she did.

The article continued on and talked about each person who had died. It told of the owner, a local man well known around town. He'd left behind two young sons and a grieving widow. He'd helped coach the little league team and he liked to ensure his neighbors didn't want for anything. He'd apparently been well liked by his neighbors. The older couple were close to retirement and had been on their way to their family reunion from South Carolina. They'd decided to stop in at the motel for a night of rest before covering the second half of the trip. They had a son and a daughter, both married with their own children. The husband had worked as a broker and his wife had been a real estate agent. People in their sleepy South Carolina community had been shocked and saddened by their deaths.

A good chunk of the article had been dedicated to the boy, a young man named Matt Finley who had been described as popular in school. He'd been on the football team and he'd also been on the school's debate team. His parents and sisters had been shocked by his death. His friends had spoken of how he enjoyed playing sports and spending time with his friends. A girl identified as his girlfriend had gone on and on about what a wonderful person he'd been and how she simply couldn't understand how it had happened.

The rest of the reporter's piece discussed the efforts to discover how the fire had started. It said that the authorities had been baffled because they'd found no evidence of an accelerant. A thorough investigation of the wiring hadn't gotten them anything, either. Investigators had been able to narrow down where the fire had started, but hadn't been able to figure out the how or the why. It came as no surprise to read that Matt Finley had been found in the room where the fire had begun. An anonymous source suggested that Finley and his friends might have been to blame for the fire, but the tone of the article suggested the notion had been dismissed.

There wasn't one mention of Dare in the article, but Clint wasn't surprised by that. The boy's friends would never had mentioned her being there because then they would have been forced to explain how they knew and why the two had been at the motel. It would have made everyone look bad and shattered the illusions his family and his girlfriend had had about the boy.

Another glance over his shoulder showed him he was still alone, so he enacted another search. It would be easier to get the results on this search, even if it wasn't technically legal. Tony had set up his program with lots of neat little accessories. One of which allowed it to dig into police files for requested information. It didn't take the computer long to locate the photos from the fire. Clint spent several long minutes simply staring at them, trying to make sense of what the film had captured. All he could see were burnt and charred building materials. Piles of blackened, soot stained debris. Bodies.

He closed the search out and considered what he'd read. He was more than positive that Dare had been telling the truth when she'd said she'd lost her temper and set the flames loose. He didn't think she'd meant to hurt anyone that night. She'd just been angry and hurt and confused. And it had been an automatic reaction. Which left him wondering about her actions since his encounter with LeBeau.

Clint pulled up a fresh search page and started a search for any and all news Tony's program could find about Xavier's famed all-girl team. The results were substantial, running back several years to when Clint was certain Dare was still a teenaged high school student. The very first entry was from a long past Christmas Eve. Dare and her team had gone out in the dead of night, in the freezing cold, to deal with a fire that would have claimed half a dozen lives or more. The building had been abandoned and the victims had been homeless. Authorities had been late to arrive to the scene because they'd apparently been stretched thin that holiday season.

Clint frowned as something sparked in his memory. Clicking a few links included in the report told him exactly why the fire sparked a memory. He remembered that Christmas season well. There had been quite a few fires set that year. Sometimes three or four a night. Big enough to leave fire houses scrambling to cover each event. Many people had died because the first responders had been spread thin and had been unable to make it to each fire. The dead had pretty much all been homeless, nothing but mothers and children with no place else to go. The worst had been Christmas Eve. But, through some miracle, the purple X-team had managed to not only save the half dozen or more homeless at this one location, but they'd also caught the firebug responsible for the fires in the first place.

The purple team's first official outing and they'd proved themselves to be honest to God heroes.

Clint systematically clicked open each entry his search had found. Many of the events described within involved fire in some way, shape, or form. Each and every one of them proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that the purple team was comprised of real heroes. He read each of them closely, taking note that some of them included people with first hand knowledge of the event, and every single witness had stated plainly that they likely would have lost their lives if not for the actions of Dare's team.

Of course the last entry was the mission that had taken the team to Canada. The one that had seen Dare staying behind to help with a forest fire. The team had gone to help deal with a dangerous confrontation between a group of bigoted humans and a small village of Indigenous people protecting a young teen who had just come into their power. The teen just happened to be one of their own. Of course the 'normal' people had been harassing and terrorizing the others, and the event had led to someone getting hurt. The authorities either hadn't been able to calm the confrontation or they hadn't cared to bother trying. Clint had his suspicions as to which one it was.

Some how, the purple team had ended up in the middle. Either someone had called Xavier for help or he'd sensed the trouble and sent them to put an end to the growing violence. There was no mention of what had seen the girls heading there. But they'd gone and they'd stepped between a growing crowd of violence prone humans and the Indigenous people they'd targeted. And, somehow, they'd managed to convince the humans to leave. There report mentioned only a few people injured. There was nothing about anyone being killed.

Clint sat back in his chair and considered what he'd read. Every single one of those reports spoke about the kind of women that made up the purple team. They were principled, courageous, heroic, and generous. They'd helped anyone who'd needed it, without question. Regardless of the kind of trouble it could have brought to their feet. And they'd done it without complaint, time and time again. Not a single one of them even suggested that the purple team was on the brink of going rogue. And not a one of them pointed toward Dare using her powers for anything other than helping people. That certainly fit with the personality if the woman he knew.

He considered what he'd learned. He supposed it was entirely possible that Dare was off the rails. It wouldn't be the first time a person had been pushed over the edge by the events in their life. She'd suffered quite a few terrible things. But he'd never gotten the sad, suffering victim vibe off her. Sad, yes. Suffering, yes. But not in a way that would see her going out and intentionally doing harm to others. She wasn't seeking revenge from the world for some wrong done to her. She was seeking revenge from one specific person. For what had been done to Logan. The man she loved. For what had been done to him.

No. Not for the man she loved. For the man she'd loved. It hit Clint straight in the gut right then that he was now the man she loved. Oh, he knew that she would always love Logan. But because she'd been forced to kill him, he was a past love. A lost love. Clint was her present love. And she wanted LeBeau to pay for touching him as much as she wanted him to pay for touching Logan. For making her kill Logan.

The enormity of the whole situation slammed him upside the head with all the force of Thor swinging Mjölnir at an enemy and he was suddenly very short of breath. She loved him. She hadn't said it in so many words, but she did. She loved him. And he loved her in return. Probably stupid on his part to fall for someone so young. To fall for someone who so obviously had so many issues. Not that he didn't have his own, but that was another matter.

The fact of the matter was he'd done the unthinkable and he'd let himself develop feelings for someone who should be in a relationship with someone nearer her age. It wasn't like it was difficult for him to fall for a pretty face. It was easy for him to lose his heart. But Dare...

It was suddenly that much more important that she curtail her hunt for LeBeau. That she stay safe. That he drive the man's presence from his body. Because he had to protect her. He had to keep her at his side. Anything else was unthinkable

~*~*~*~*~

It was obvious the pictures he'd seen had been taken long before the plague started. In those pictures, he'd seen a large, welcoming building hidden behind a brick wall with scrolling iron gates. He'd seen trees and plants and flowers and green. He'd even seen some images of people in the yard, laughing and smiling. He'd seen what had looked like a home. Now, staring up at it from across the street, he saw reinforced walls and reinforced gates. He saw spikes riding atop the wall all the way around. He saw a lack of trees. He saw shutters over the windows. He saw defenses every where he looked. He saw no sign of life.

This was no longer a home. This was a fortress.

It was his third night of observation. He supposed he could call it a stake out. It fit what he was doing. But he considered it observing. He was just watching. Getting the lay of the land. Not waiting for anything in particular to happen. Not looking for anyone special. Just... watching. And seeing a whole lot of nothing. It was frustrating, but he was a patient man. Had to be to do his job. Exacting helped, too. But patience was the most important part.

Ever since his encounter in the alley, and then the unexpected meeting with a shady government agency, he'd been doing research. Biding his time. Waiting for the right moment. It had been hard to do the research because he was relatively certain that his new friends within the government would be keeping an eye out for particular searches. It was good that he had alternate methods of finding out the things he needed to know. He'd made phone calls, sent encrypted emails, stepped into libraries. Slowly, so very slowly, he'd pulled together enough information to paint him a picture that was bright and vivid and detailed.

Of course, he hadn't done any of that until he'd been certain he hadn't been followed. Upon leaving the facility he'd been taken to, the first course of action had been to check his weapons. Any of his property that the shady government agency had confiscated had gotten a good once over. It had taken a while, but he was pretty sure he'd found every single bug they'd planted. After that, he'd meandered around the city for hours until he'd felt it was safe to go back to his hotel room. So far, he'd seen nothing to suggest that they were tailing him. All in all, from the moment he'd left his government friends behind up until this very moment, sitting in front of a large home dressed like a fortress, nearly a week had passed. And he was still no closer to his goal.

To be honest, he was ready to give up. There had been little to no activity at the fortress home, nothing to suggest that anyone even lived there. He hadn't seen anyone come or go. No deliveries had been made. Not even a mail truck had stopped. In the daylight hours he'd been out front, no one had given it a second glance. At night... There was no one to give it a second glance. No one was on the street at night. Tonight was no different. The sun was starting to set and foot traffic was pretty much non-existent. He should probably take that as his cue and go. Head back to his rental and call this whole thing a lost cause. He'd known it was a long shot before he'd even gotten started.

He'd just put his hand on the key, still slotted into the ignition, when a knock on the passenger side window actually startled him. Well aware that he couldn't reach for his gun on the off chance it was someone harmless, or even a police officer, he didn't bother taking his hands off the steering wheel before turning to see who was there. He was more than a little surprised to find the girl from that night staring at him through the glass. She looked really annoyed. He dropped his hands and used one to hit the button that lowered the window. "How many nights do you plan on sitting out here?" she asked him, a touch of the annoyance on her face easy to hear in her words.

"I was just about to call it quits," he admitted.

She stared at him a moment, then stood straight and let her gaze shift around the area. "You might as well come inside," she said. There was something in her voice that saw him reaching under his jacket to undo the strap keeping his gun secured in its holster. Her focus returned to him and she let him see her frown. "Follow me."

He tugged the keys from the ignition and pocketed them before climbing from the vehicle. He hit the locks a second before shutting the door, then broke into a brisk walk to catch up to the girl. She was already on the other side of the street when he did so, already on her way around the corner. He took note of the fact that she didn't even stop to see if anything was awaiting her around the corner. The recklessness of youth. He took the space of a breath to ensure that she wasn't leading him into a trap, then went around the corner to find she was stopped before the gates. And her annoyance had ratcheted up a notch.

He didn't let it rattle him. When he stood even with her, she waved her hand through the air. The action saw a holographic image of a keypad spring to life and the girl tapped in a code as if it were a real, solid thing. He heard the electronic sound of the gate unlocking. She pushed on one of the metal panels, opening it just far enough for a single person to slip through. She shot him a look over her shoulder. "Walk where I walk."

A moment later, he was standing next to her inside the gate. She shot him the hairy eyeball, then made quick work of closing and locking the gate. She started forward, leaving him to trail behind her. There was little by way of plant life in the yard, a few trees near the walls, a sprawling expanse of grass, and not much else. He knew it for what it was, a nicely carpeted mine field. So he paid close attention to where the girl put her feet and didn't relax until they stood before the front doors. She cast a glance over her shoulder, at him and at the yard behind him, then opened the front door and stepped inside.

There weren't many lights on, the entry hall almost completely dark. The girl closed the door behind them and turned the lock, then set off deeper in the shadows. He followed behind her, one hand absently resting on the butt of his gun under his jacket. It occurred to him now, when he was moving deeper into the interior of a veritable fortress, that this could be a trap and he might very possibly be in danger. Maybe he shouldn't have been quite so anxious to meet up with the girl.

She turned into a doorway that was well lit, casting a rectangle of mellow yellow across the darkened hallway. He followed her to find that they were in an expensively appointed kitchen. It was filled with state of the art appliances, richly stained wooden cabinets, a set of table and chairs that matched the cabinets, a tiled floor, and a white wallpaper printed with small shapes in an array of colors. It was also filled with a group of people who looked almost as unhappy as the girl did.

He knew the names of the two men staring at him. The blonde looked relaxed, but he could see the hidden tension. He didn't think it was all because there was a stranger in the house. The other man, the dark headed one, seemed perfectly at ease. But that didn't mean anything. The two women who were there were unknown to him. One looked unassuming and absolutely not dangerous. The other one, this one sporting two tone hair, was watching him so closely that he felt she'd do something if he blinked the wrong way.

The girl moved to stand by the blonde, almost but not quite touching him. "You've been watching the place for the past few days. You want to tell us why you're hanging around?" The girl's tone of voice told him it wasn't actually a question and he'd better answer her if he knew what was good for him. Given what he knew of her, he absolutely knew what was good for him.

"I've been looking for you," he told her. She tipped her head to the side just a bit.

"For me?" she returned. There was a world of disbelief in her voice.

"For you," he confirmed. He hadn't relaxed the hold he had on his gun, but no one seemed to have noticed.

"Funny. You don't even know me," the girl responded, crossing her arms over her chest. Unlike the pictures he'd seen of her, and the night he'd met her, she wasn't in all black. She wore an over-sized t-shirt and a pair of leggings that were both grey. Must have been laundry day.

"I know a good deal about you, Miss Scott," he replied. Tension slid up the girl's spine and into her shoulders. He watched her hands ball into fists under her elbows and a few wisps of hair started to float near her cheek. Interesting. "More importantly, the government knows a good deal about you. And they're looking for you."

The girl stared at him a moment. He noticed a few more strands of hair began floating. "Why would the government be looking for me?"

"They've taken notice of your fires, Miss Scott. And they think you're the solution to the world's problems."

She stared at him for all of two seconds before she laughed aloud, clearly amused. "The government is looking for me because they think they can use me to stop the vampire plague? Isn't that just fucking hilarious?"

"It really isn't, Dare," the blonde at her side said. His words prompted her to turn toward him. The look on her face softened and she reached out to lay a hand on his arm.

"You worry too much, old man. They'll never put their hands on me. I promise you," she offered. Her words did little to pacify the man. She might have said more, but the woman with the two tone hair shattered the moment with what sounded suspiciously like a snort. All eyes turned her way.

"Fuck them. They are not going to use you as their weapon. I'll blow every last one of them off the face of the planet," she decreed. The girl offered her a smile.

"I appreciate that you care, Mystery. But they'll never get their hands on me," the girl promised a second time. She turned back to him, her posture a little more relaxed than it had been. And her hair had stopped floating, which he took to be a very good sign. "How do you know the government is trying to get their hands on me."

"They asked me about you. In fact, they almost did get hold of you. The other night. In the alley," he reminded her.

She cracked a smile at him that said he was much stupider than he looked. "Why do you think I left when I did? You think I didn't know that there were armed government agents creeping up behind you? They were hoping that our conversation would give them the edge they needed. Unfortunately for them, it did no such thing. Did they at least tell you who they were? I'd like to know what agency I should be avoiding." The girl's voice made it sound like she thought it was nothing more than a game.

"No. And I had no luck finding out. None of my contacts could get me much information," he replied.

"Sounds like S.H.I.E.L.D. They take the protection of the world very seriously and like to stick their noses in where they don't belong," the dark headed man said, sounding very sure of himself. His glance slid toward the girl. "It isn't a good thing that Nick Fury has his sights set on you, Dare. He will use you in whatever way he can to get what he wants. And he won't care if he uses you up in the process. If SHIELD grabs you, there won't be any coming out."

He watched Dare give the man a look. "I didn't know you cared, Stark."

"That's a conversation for another time," the man responded, then turned his attention back to him. Stark gave what appeared to be the man's version of a once over before pressing on. "How is it you spoke with S.H.I.E.L.D. and walked away without a tail a mile long? They're not known for letting go so easily."

"I'm well aware of how groups like that operate. I spent a good two hours going over every last bit of my equipment that they so graciously held for me while they kept me waiting and then asked me questions. Anything I was uncertain of got left behind."

Tony Stark, one of the richest and smartest men on the planet, gave him a long look before nodding his head, seemingly satisfied. "So you met S.H.I.E.L.D., found out they want to use Dare as their own personal fire starter, managed to slip their tail, and then found her so you could warn her. Why do I find that hard to believe? It feels like there's more to the story than that."

"There is," he confirmed. His gaze slid back to where Dare stood. She was watching him with a faint gleam in her eye. He couldn't tell what it was, but instinct suggested it wasn't anything good. "I came to offer my assistance."

A single brow rose at that, then the girl was breaking away from her position to move closer. He waited as she circled him slowly, something of a predatory feel to her actions. When she finally faced him again, she gave him a dead-eyed stare. "I don't need your help."

"We can all use help, Miss Scott," he replied steadily.

"I don't need help," she said, voice tight. There was a hint of a sneer in her tone. Just enough to let him know she was losing her temper. "I don't even know you."

"My name is Edward," he told her.

She shook her head at him. "Never heard of you."

"Vampires tend to call me Death," he added evenly. She gave him a blank look at that.

"Not ringing a bell." She glanced him up and down. When her gaze came up to his face, she made sure he saw that she was under whelmed with what she saw. "Again. I don't need your help."

"I've been hunting vampires, and other things, much longer than anyone in this room. I know how they think. You don't," he informed them. "In case you've forgotten, vampires have been in this country for a while now. And they have been granted the same rights as you and I."

His words were cut off by another eloquent snort from the woman named Mystery. The look she shot him when he turned her way suggested she found him mildly amusing. "Maybe like you and Barton and Stark. Not me. Not Dare. Don't put us in the same class as the undead. They have more rights."

Edward inclined his head at the reminder that people like Dare were still viewed with suspicion. "Fair enough. The point I was making, though, is you've opened yourself up to a metric fuckton of trouble. You've been torching vampires indiscriminately. They're considered people. You can die for your actions."

Dare shrugged a shoulder. "Any vampires that may have died in my fires were never anything other than evil and corrupt. Also, there are no vampire corpses. They all die when flames hit them. No body, no victim."

"That may be. But you can't prove it without hard evidence. Your word won't mean anything," he told her. "And that doesn't even cover the corpses you've been leaving behind."

"Blood whores?" she spat the two words out like they were poison sat on her tongue. "Death is a kindness for blood whores. Better than a life addicted to that shit. After some time, they're not even really human anymore."

There was such hatred in her words. Edward pondered it a moment, then let his gaze slide toward the blonde in the background. Clint Barton, also known as the superhero Hawkeye, looked like your ordinary guy. There was an open expression on his face. Only it wasn't really open. It was a cleverly crafted look to keep people from seeing what was going on behind it. There was a tension in his shoulders that he didn't bother to hide. One that hadn't been there a few moments ago. Curious.

"Blood whores are still people in the eyes of the law," Edward reminded her, deciding to see what he'd get if he pushed the topic a little further.

"The law knows fuck all about what happens to blood whores," Dare snarled. Her hair was again floating and her hands were once more fisted at her sides. "They're little more than junkies who live for their next fix. They stop being human the minute the transformation is complete. Death is preferable to what a vampire has in store for them."

"That isn't your call to make," he said impassively.

The girl would have lunged at him, but for the hand that Barton had laid on her arm. Mystery stood with hands held up with fingers spread and palms his way, suggesting she was on the defensive for some reason. And the other woman, the one who had looked completely not dangerous, was between him and Dare. And there were... vines? There were vines between them. He shifted, attempted to go around them. The vines moved with him. He stepped back when one of them reached out toward his wrist.

"Quit trying to goad her into anything. No one here can survive her fire. And all you really had to do was ask to get the answers you wanted is ask a few questions. There was no reason for you to be a dick." The previously not dangerous woman was glaring at him, and while she didn't outwardly look like she could menace a chocolate bar, there was something in her stance, in her face, that told him he didn't want to mess with her.

Edward adjusted his assessment of the woman. There was anger and passion in her eyes that suggested he'd hit a sore spot with her, as well.

"Rose," Barton said. There was something like resignation in his voice. "Its okay."

"No, it isn't. He has no right to come in here and rile us up with stupid statements. Its obvious he doesn't know anything about what a blood whore is," she snapped. Her gaze never left his face. She knew. He could see in her eyes that she knew. And he could see that it was something that haunted her.

"Then tell me," he invited.

She gave him a look that told him she saw through his pathetic attempt. Her posture didn't change. And the vines inched closer. "They're junkies. Addicts that need a fix of blood. They can't live without their fix. It burns like fire in their veins and drives them mad. They're totally dependent upon that fix and the vampire it comes from. They lose all sense of self. They lose everything. All they want is the blood. And they'll do anything to get it. Even murder their best friend. Dare's right. They stop being human the minute the vampire finishes the transformation. Death is a kindness."

Edward noticed that she had one hand clasped around the opposite wrist, fingers pressing to it tightly. And there was a tightness around her eyes that suggested she knew far better than she liked just what she was talking about. "Rose?" Dare asked softly. He glanced the pyro's way to see that a look of concern and worry had softened the girl's face. She was staring at Rose with wide eyes and a touch of disbelief in her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me? I'd never have involved you in this mess if I'd known."

"Its my burden to carry," Rose said, some emotion lingering at the back of her voice. Her gaze, however, never left his face. "And I chose to help you because I wanted to. I know exactly what Clint is going through and if I can help make it easier for him, I will."

"Is the vampire dead?" Dare asked, nothing to hear in her voice.

"Not yet," Rose told her, giving a faint shake of her head. Edward thought it was more because she'd had problems with that part than a visual negative for the other girl.

"I'll kill them for you," Dare told her. Nothing had changed in her posture or her tone. But he could hear fire licking at each of the words she said, as if it was normal for her to threaten to kill someone. Maybe, given the way the world had gone screwy, it was. "No one fucks with my family."

Rose didn't look at the girl. Her attention remained focused on him. Edward watched as one of the vines broke from the pack to inch forward and poke him, rather forcefully, in the chest. "Don't ever talk to me about what a blood whore is and isn't ever again." There was a threat and a promise in her words that he had no problems believing. He gave a tip of his head to let her know that he'd heard her.

Tension crackled in the air for several more seconds before it shattered with the sound of a laconic drawl. "Really, Rose? Vines in my kitchen? Is that absolutely necessary?"

Every eye turned to Stark to find him giving the dark haired woman a faintly amused look. She shook her head at him, then the vines were shrinking away until it looked as if they'd never been. Rose turned and stalked from the kitchen without another word. Stark started forward, but Dare's hand shot out to stop him. "Mystery," she said, her attention on the other woman in the room.

"I'll take care of her. You'll be okay here?" Mystery asked, her gaze flicking toward him. Edward gave her his best harmless look.

"I'll be okay. I've got this. Go." Mystery shot him a look that promised a world of pain if he hurt anyone else, then she sashayed from the room as if she was attempting to entice every one in the kitchen into her leather trousers. When she was gone, Edward gave his attention back to the three people remaining in the kitchen with him.

Dare watched him with narrowed eyes before one hand motioned toward the door to the kitchen, as if to suggest he could leave. "You've said your piece. Now you can leave. As you can see, I've got enough help here. I don't need you to hunt with me. I don't need you to watch my back. No one is going to grab me. I can take care of myself."

~*~*~*~*~

Dare frowned at the man and wished she'd gone with her first instincts and just set his ass on fire. She wanted him gone. She didn't need him to tell her that there were people out there looking for her. And she didn't need him hunting with her. She could watch her back far better than he could. His presence here had put a crimp in her plans for the evening. Which made her cranky. All she wanted to do was go down to the gym and spar with Clint. Or maybe with Stark. She owed him an ass kicking for his trickery.

"There's more you should know," Edward began, only to be cut off by the chime of his cell. She watched as he reached into his pocket and fetched the sleek phone out of it. A glance at the screen saw him frowning. Which was odd, because it was the first hint of emotion he'd shown since he'd stepped foot in the mansion. Holding up a finger to let them know he wasn't done with his reason for visiting, he hit the button to answer the call and put the phone to his ear. "What is it?" he asked.

Whatever the person on the other end of the phone said obviously upset him because the frown intensified. "You know I'm working and I told you before I left that I'd contact you when I could. I've been busy."

Another silence filled the room as he listened to his caller speak. The frown tightened a bit. "There's no reason to... " he began, but broke off in frustration as the other person obviously spoke over him. "Are you insane? You need to stay in St. Louis and keep an eye on things there. I can handle it here."

Another silence filled the room and the man's expression got darker. "You're an idiot," he snapped. "You should have stayed... I don't have time for this. I'll deal with you later. I've got some things to take care of here but rest assured that we will have this out when I'm done here."

The man went silent again and the look on his face became even more upset. "You brought him with? What the hell?" There was another pause before the man muttered something unpleasant under his breath and disconnected the call. When he looked up from tucking his phone into his pocket, his face was back to pleasantly blank. It was so good that Dare wouldn't have believed he'd just been pissed if she hadn't witnessed it for herself.

"Problems?"

"Headstrong idiots," he said, putting a touch of inflection into his voice. Dare had to bite back the grin that wanted to come. She almost wanted to meet the headstrong idiot that had put the look of disgust on his face and annoyance in his voice. "I seem to be running into a lot of them lately," he muttered. It was a stage whisper type thing, letting her know he'd meant for her to hear it. She took no offense, merely crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look.

"You said there was more. Get on with it. I've got a date with Clint and a training mat," she told him, making sure he could hear in her voice that she was done being nice. He dipped his head and moved to settle on one of the stools pulled up to the island. His actions brought a frown, prompting Dare to move to the fridge and tug out a beer. She grabbed two more, one for Clint and one for Stark, and handed them out, then took the seat across from their unwanted visitor. He gave the appearance of not being put out by being excluded from the drinks.

"You know that vampires have been living among us for some time now. Legal citizens of the country. With all the rights that title entails." He didn't bother making it a question. Dare tipped her head at him. Everyone knew about the addition of vampires to the world. They'd had to study the stupid laws and rulings back at Xavier's. Too many people she'd gone to school with had been enamored of the idea of living with vampires.

"They've pretty much kept to themselves. Barely cause trouble. And when they do, its dealt with quickly. Efficiently," Stark said, moving to join them. Clint did the same, settling onto the stool next to Dare. She took comfort in his presence, the heat that came off his body. She noticed that Stark didn't take a seat but remained standing, positioning himself between Dare and their visitor. She pondered it a moment, then pushed it aside to focus on the matter at hand. "The government put a system in place. Licensed vampire executioners. They get the orders and go hunting."

"They were eventually given Federal Marshal status. Not enough of them to cover the country. Having marshal status makes crossing state lines easier," their guest told them.

"How fortunate for you," Dare replied. For a moment, she got the impression that he was surprised she'd figured out that he was a fed. Then the brief glimmer of surprise was gone and his face was once again a bland mask.

"With executioners in place, the vampire community has been pretty quiet. Not many problems with them. And, more often than not, any problems that do arise are dealt with internally. We're a last straw type thing," the man explained. Though his words were for everyone, his attention never shifted from Dare's face. She wasn't sure why he thought she was interested in this stuff. It was nothing to do with her. She wasn't hunting vampires. She was hunting a vampire. Once he was dead, she was out of the hunting business.

"And?" she asked, making sure he knew just how bored she was by this whole deal.

"This whole vampire uprising thing is making their lives difficult," he told her.

Dare's gaze went as flat as her lips as she stared at him. "Right."

"Whether you chose to believe me or not, there are good vampires in this world. And they do not like the things that are happening anymore than you or I. What's going on now, with vampires sweeping like a plague across the world, killing people indiscriminately... That isn't anything they want. Its bad PR. And no one will survive, mortal or vampire, if these bad vampires aren't brought to heel."

"Good vampires. Bad vampires," Dare snorted. "Sounds like a steaming pile of horse shit to me,"

The man across from her sent her a look that suggested he thought she was being stupid. Yeah, she got that a lot. Most of the people who thought it were no longer living to think it. "Doesn't it strike you as odd that vampires lived in this country for some time without making and trouble then, all of a sudden, there are vampires running wild? Hunting anyone and anything they can get their hands on? That busload of children at the start of it all? The vampires I know were repulsed by it. They don't like that kind of attention. They don't condone that kind of behavior. They want these other vampires dead as much as you do."

"What happened?" Stark asked, drawing the man's attention his way. "If the vampires don't generally don't engage in this kind of behavior, what happened? Why do we now have vampires going after anything that moves?"

"Because some government somewhere thought that they could use whatever it is that creates a vampire, whatever infection or bacterial strain or whatever you want to call it, as a weapon to create an unstoppable soldier."

Clint put his beer bottle down on the island counter with a distinct thud. Dare didn't have to look at him to know that he was tense, that he was confused. That he was angry. "You're telling me that the things I've been killing out on the streets are some kind of undead abomination? The result of a science experiment gone wrong?"

The man calling himself Edward nodded his head. "That's exactly what I'm telling you. Any vampire you run across that's attacking people without provocation, that's trying to turn them into a blood whore, that's doing anything that would endanger lives, is the result of someone's science experiment run amok."

"I call bullshit," Dare said, voice soft and full of pain. "Absolute bullshit. There's no such thing as a good vampire. No such fucking thing."

"Dare," Clint put his hand on her arm. "Baby."

"No! I refuse to believe it! Because that means..." she snarled, then broke off with a soft sob.

"Whether you choose to believe me or not, its true," Edward told her. His expression suggested that maybe he felt some regret for making her feel like shit. She didn't buy it, anymore than she bought that there were good and bad vampires.

"Get out. Get the fuck out. Right now," she snarled at him, hair starting to stir against her neck. She shoved the stool back and slid out of it, moving to face off with the man. Clint was there to stop her, stepping between her and the other blonde. "Get out."

The man looked at her, seemingly unconcerned with how close he was to having his chestnuts roasted on an open fire. "I understand that this is hard to accept. If it helps prove what I've said is true, I can introduce you to one of the good ones."

~*~*~*~*~

He stared at the deck on the table with a wary eye. One hand itched to turn over the first card, but he stayed the urge. It had been a very long time since he'd attempted to read the cards. A voice in his head kept telling him to walk past, that he had no business picking up any of those cards. That they were nothing but trouble. But something in his soul demanded he make use of them. Something told him that he could use them to get what he wanted. Everything he wanted.

Slowly, as if the cards would bite him, he laid his hand on the back of the top card. The plastic coating felt slick against his skin and it slid easily when he took it off the deck. He turned it slowly, laid it face up on the table before him. And stared. The image before him was of a man and a woman, one on either side of the card. Between them was a larger figure. The Lovers.

He stared at the couple. In the male figure, he saw himself. In the female figure, he saw Dare. Could it be a sign? Or was it simply what he wanted to see? Morgan had begged him time and again to bring Dare back to them. He'd promised he would. Truth be told, he hadn't been trying very hard. Each fire she'd set had told him in no uncertain terms that she wanted him dead. That she would never forgive him for what he'd done to her. He'd put his plans to bring her into the fold on the back burner. Because he knew that the anger she felt would never fade. He knew her well enough to know that she didn't forget. She didn't forgive. And she didn't let go of her anger. It burned inside of her just as brightly as her flames did when they ate at a building. At a body.

She would never willingly come to him.

Oh, there was the plan she had concocted. They'd already implemented it. And, to some degree, he knew it worked. But he knew Dare better than she did. And he knew, no matter what tricks they used to try and draw her to their side, Dare would fight it. Dare would kick and claw and scratch and burn everything in her path just to stay away. She'd never willingly give in, no matter what they did to her.

The cards called to him, begging him to turn another one over. He let his fingers draw a second card from the top of the deck. Turned it over as slowly as the first one. Stared down at it. His fingers turned over another. And another. And soon, he understood what it was he was seeing. The cards were telling him where to find her. They were telling him how he could take her from Barton and bring her back to his side. They were giving him a gift he'd long thought lost.

A slow smile spread across his face. Once upon a time, he'd been able to use the cards to find answers. To see things that had not yet come to pass. He'd thought the talent lost. Events in his life had seen the ability taken from him. He'd never thought that his rebirth as a vampire would bring the talent back to him. But here it was. A gift of foresight. The tarot sang to him in a way cards hadn't done in years. He turned another and another over. Heard what it was they were telling him.

He should have known that Barton wouldn't have abandoned Avengers mansion. He should have known that he could find Dare there. The archer never had had much imagination. Remy had to wonder why it was that Dare had latched onto the idiot. What did Barton have that he didn't? Besides a heartbeat, that was. Remy couldn't figure that one out. Of course, it wasn't important.

Not anymore.

He said a word of thanks to whatever power it was that had returned his ability to use the cards to see. It was a talent he could put to use in his personal mission. He would have them all back. He would. It was the promise he'd made to himself when he'd found Morgan at the school, petrified and trying desperately to hold her own against the tide of vampires that had overrun Xavier's mansion. He felt no shame in having tricked her to his side. By the time she'd realized that something was wrong, it had been too late. Not even Faye had been able to stop him. He'd made Morgan his right then and there. Then he'd vowed to bring them all under his control

Remy didn't like answering to anyone. And, as it stood, he had to answer to someone even more blood thirsty than himself. That was the reason why he'd made the plans he had. He knew, if he could bring every single member of the purple team under his control, he could throw off the yoke of servitude he'd been forced to wear. He and the girls could destroy the woman who held him under her heel. And then, they could take over the world.

Of course, he'd have to find the rest of the girls before he could put his plan into motion. But that wasn't a concern at the moment. Right now, his focus had to be on Dare. It was going to take careful planning and no small amount of luck to bring her to his side. The dreams would help. A reminder of what she could have once again if only she submitted to him. But the dreams weren't enough. The girl burned with anger and hatred, nurtured the feelings as if they were her children. As if she could sustain herself on them. Perhaps she could. Perhaps the anger helped feed the flames. And she had good reason to hate him.

He'd sent Logan after her, had turned him and forced him to track down the girl he loved in order to turn her. Remy had thought that the man was completely under his thrall. He'd apparently been wrong. He suspected the man's healing factor had asserted itself and was attempting to right the changes that had been made to him. An unfortunate happening. Regrettable, really. But not the end of the world. Still, using Logan against Dare had turned her anger against Remy, even if she hadn't known at the time that he'd been responsible.

But that had changed when he'd taken Barton. He should have killed the fool instead of trying to bind Hawkeye to his side. He'd been filled with confidence. And hunger. He hadn't counted on the fact that Barton held affection for Dare. Nor had he considered that she might hold the same affection for the man in return. That had been his biggest mistake. And now Dare was hunting him across the city, burning everything and everyone in her path in an attempt to call him out so she could finish him once and for all.

She might have succeeded, too. But the cards had answered a call he'd never even realized he'd made. And now he had hope. Hope and a plan.

Remy turned his gaze to the window and stared out at the city spread out around the lair. Lights blazed in some places. Darkness ruled in others. He considered going out and looking for her, but something told him he would have no luck this evening. There had been no new fires in a few days. Someone had suggested she'd given up her hunt. Remy had laughed at them. They knew nothing of Dare if they thought she'd give up so easily.

No. He was sure she was laying low, biding her time. Making plans. Dreaming of all the ways she could end his life for him. Let her. Let her think she could destroy him. Let her grow cocky and sloppy. When that happened, he'd find her. And he'd take her. He'd make her his.

Then he'd start working on his plan to take over the world.

~*~*~*~*~

She stared into the darkness and frowned. Sweat itched at her brow and down her spine. Between her breasts. The dreams were coming with more frequency. None of it made any sense to her. The faces were in shadows, though she felt like she should know who they were. The events were clear. Someone, a man, was hunting an unsuspecting woman. But that was all she really knew. All she really understood.

Her dreams now switched between two themes. Fires that burned high and bright, the flames crackling as they ate at wood. Cackling as they consumed flesh and blood. Or darkened rooms filled with the sounds of skin moving against satin. Slapping against skin. Of sighs and moans and gasps. There were cries of ecstasy that left her flushed and heated and in need. Then came the screams of terror. And the flashes of pain. And the faint touch of evil that stained her soul with darkness.

She woke from each dream with sweat running down her skin and her muscles quivering from fear. She hated it, because she couldn't decipher what they meant. Who was the woman in the dreams, the one she knew was in great danger? Who was the man who hunted the woman, the one who was filled with gentle love one moment and dark lust the next? She felt as if she should know who they were, but she couldn't find their faces or their names.

The door cracked open, bringing her gaze up to the spot where Grandfather's face peered through the gap. She could already read the sadness in his gaze, thought she could see so little of his face and the expression he wore. When he saw she was awake, he pushed the door wide and took a single step into the room with her. "More dreams, Granddaughter?" he asked softly, though she knew he knew the answer.

"Dreams. Or nightmares. I don't know which is which anymore. I don't know anything. The same people haunt my sleep and I can't remember who they are."

He stared at her a moment before heaving a sigh. The look in his eyes was hard to read in the shadows, but she saw something in them. Some spark of light, almost like a flash of lightning. Then he straightened his shoulders and years seemed to fall off of them. He stepped further into the room and looked her in the eye. "Come with me, Granddaughter. I think it is time we talked."

She frowned, confusion wrinkling her brow. There was something in his voice that she couldn't place. It sounded like age, but not like the age of a man who had lived a long life. It was a different kind of age. Almost an ageless kind of age. Throwing back the covers, she rose from the bed and followed Grandfather out into the darkness of the small house.

Something had changed. It was on the air around her, in the atmosphere. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something had definitely changed. A case of nerves hit her then, sending a desire to run through the forest rushing through her. In fact, if she let herself concentrate for too long, she swore she could feel leaves crackling beneath her feet. Twigs snapping as she stepped on them. The wind brushing against her cheeks, carrying on it the scent of fresh blossoms and fear and prey.

That feeling saw her halting in her tracks. Grandfather stopped. Turned to face her. Again she saw the flash of lightning in his eyes. His smile, when it came, seemed timeless and full of understanding. "Come, Daughter," he said gently. There was weight and age and timelessness in his voice. "We have much to discuss. Once we are finished, if you still desire, you may roam the hills and plains if you so desire it. But it is time you started pulling the threads back together so that you may reweave the fabric of your life."

Reweave the fabric of her life. What did he mean by that? What was going on here? Nothing made sense. Nothing at all. And instinct told her that it would still make no sense after their conversation. In fact, she was certain it would all get worse before it got any better.

~*~*~*~*~

"I don't need a babysitter, Stark," the girl said, a touch of peevishness in her voice. Clint hadn't wanted her to go out, but she'd been determined to go. So Tony had offered to trail after her and ensure she didn't get into too much trouble.

"I'm not babysitting. I'm hunting. Might as well go along with you. Two heads are better than one," he told her, voice cheerful.

"I don't need a babysitter," she repeated. There was a touch of heat and anger in her voice this time. Then she came to a halt and turned to glare at him. "How do you plan on hunting without weapons? Without some kind of protection. Without anything."

"I have everything I need," he informed her. It took nothing more than a thought to activate the nanotech he'd developed in order to have the suit with him at all times. In a matter of seconds, Tony was encased in the familiar red and gold of the Iron Man suit, the face mask left up so that his companion could see his face. She didn't look very impressed.

"I'm under whelmed," she replied. She turned away from him without another word and continued on her way. Her way happened to be down a darkened alley. He followed after her, wondering what game she was playing at. How did she plan on fighting vampires in a dark alley without being able to see them. It wasn't like she had sensors or anything to tell her where they were hiding. He was better equipped for hunting than she was.

"You're going to get yourself killed." He made sure she heard the displeasure in his voice.

She said nothing to that, but he was sure he heard a snort.

"You can't see where you're going," he reminded her. "You might be a natural weapon, but you can't fight them if you can't find them."

"And you're so much better at that than I am?" the girl asked. There was a distinct sneer in her voice.

"My suit is capable of sensing any and all possible threats," he reminded her. That statement was met with another snort.

"You rely too much on technology, Stark," she shot back.

"Technology is going to help keep you safe," he said, doing his best to keep the girl from sending his temper through the roof. She could try the patience of a saint. He had the sneaking suspicion that that was one of the things Clint was attracted to. Didn't that just figure.

"You wouldn't survive ten minutes on the street without me here to save your ass," the girl snapped.

"A vampire can't bite through the suit," he informed her, making sure his tone held a healthy dose of "DUH!" in it. There was another snort in answer to his comment and he swore he could hear her eyes rolling in their sockets. But she didn't say anything else, simply moved deeper into the alley. Without any care or concern for her well being. Tony muttered a curse under his breath and dropped the face plate. In an instant, the heads up display was feeding him information from outside the suit.

He watched Dare move forward ahead of him, her steps slow and purposeful. Her posture said she was relaxed. Monitors said her heart rate was normal, as was her breathing. For someone who was certain he couldn't handle himself on the streets, she sure seemed like she wasn't terribly concerned about herself and the target she presented. Watching how she simply strolled down the middle of the alley as if there weren't blood thirsty vampires out there trying to hurt her, he could understand why Clint worried about her as he did. The girl was insane.

Tony turned his attention to the readings the suit was feeding him. There were only a few, small signatures in the alley. Likely cats or rats or something to the effect. Nothing he need worry about. Nothing that would hurt the girl in front of him. Still. That was no reason for her to be so blasé about the whole thing. The truth was, there were vampires out there who apparently wanted to get their hands on her. And she acted like he shouldn't be there with her when she didn't even have basic armor on to protect her.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he asked her. If the mechanical sound of his voice filtering through the face plate bothered her, she didn't let it show. Not even a flicker of her heartbeat. Tony didn't understand it. The files he'd compiled over the years had pointed to a girl with nerves of jello. She should have jumped. And yet, she was as calm and steady as when she'd walked out the door of the mansion. Who was this girl? There was something about her that his files hadn't covered, because he refused to believe his research hadn't been thorough. Or that it was wrong. There was something very not right about her.

He was about to speak again when intense heat seeped through the suit at his back. It was followed by high pitched screaming. Tony spun to find that there were several figures engulfed in flames who had obviously been trying to sneak up behind him. Their screams were inhuman and he was able to see fangs in their open mouths.

In only moments, the burning figures dropped to the ground and the banshee wails they'd been giving off died out. A quick scan showed no signs of life. He turned to Dare to find that she had two more vampires caged by flames. But she wasn't paying attention to them. She was looking right at him.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she mocked, throwing his words back in his face. He glanced from her to the vampires. And frowned at the lack of vital signs. When he looked back at Dare, she closed one outspread hand into a fist. The flames caging the vampires behind her roared higher and tightened in on themselves until the creatures caught inside of them went up in flames, their screams of agony echoing painfully up and down the alley.

When the bodies dropped and the flames died out, Dare brought her gaze to his face. He saw nothing. No expression on her face or in her eyes. Not even a tightness to her lips to hint at what she was feeling.

"I don't need a baby sitter," she shot at him, then turned away and disappeared into the darkness of the alley.

Well, shit.