[Chapter 15]

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[A/N] Sorry for the late update! Homework and studying has really consumed a lot of my time lately. So, here's my challenge/gift to you: Vengeance is at 85 votes, just 15 away from hitting one hundred. If this chapter alone gets at least 15 votes to make Vengeance hit the 100 vote mark, I will do a double update sometime Sunday. But wait, there's more! If Vengeance gets more than 110 votes by the end of Friday, I will do the double update sometime on Saturday. For me to update on Saturday you can vote on any chapter, but for the update on Sunday you can only vote for this chapter.
Think you're up to the challenge? Thanks for the continued support; comments and votes are very appreciated! Now, onto the story!
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[Quinn]

    Stunned silence permeated the room and hung there, cloaking everyone like a thick, woolen blanket. Clint stared at me, bewildered and shocked. He had now noticed the arrow sticking to my dagger, and his eyes flicked between my face and the arrow.

    I turned to the window, reveling in the astonished look Barton now had, wanting to see what the rest of the teams' expressions were.

    My eyes locked with those of Captain America. Blue, so deep it pulled me in, captured me, locked my gaze with his.

    Almost bluer than Sophia's had been.

    With a sharp intake of breath, I broke our eye contact with each other, looking away like nothing had happened. What the hell was that, Quinn? I scolded myself. Focus!

    The door to the observation room opened, and the rest of the Avengers and Coulson filtered into the arena. The only ones who didn't looked extremely shocked were Romanoff and Coulson, the former with her trademark stoic expression and the latter still looking as casual and mild as possible, like this kind of thing happened all of the time in his line of work. Maybe it did.

    "So, it seems that you won the round." Coulson commented nonchalantly, tapping away at the tablet in his hands.

    "Never mind the fact that the Phantom just spontaneously took off her hood, and revealed her face for the very first time." Tony remarked, having gotten over his shock and was now back to his sarcastic self. "You're more fun than I thought you would be." He said, roguishly winking.

    "You- I heard-" Clint stuttered for a second, trying to find the words to express what he wanted to say. "Are you a mutant?" He asked me pointblank.

    "What is this 'mutant' you speak of, Sir Barton?" Thor inquired.

    "Someone who was born with a natural genetic mutation that gives them special powers; for example, the members of the X-Men." Coulson informed.

    "Thank you, Son of Coul." Thor said to the agent, then he turned to me. "Are you indeed, in fact, a 'mutant' like Clint believes?"

    "What would make you think that?" I asked Agent Barton, raising an eyebrow and twirling a dagger in my fingers. Dang it, he must have heard my wings.

    "Well," he began, a slight accusatory note in his voice, "I heard a rustling, and then I was hit by a gust of air. One moment you were in front of me, the next behind me. No normal person can move that fast."

    Everyone's focus was on me now, waiting for my answer. Stark's eyebrows were raised slightly and there was a knowing glint in his eye, as if he had figured something out.

    I quietly sighed to myself. Yes, I knew that sometime I was going to have to show them my face. If I hadn't, Fury definitely would've found a way to make me take off my hood or kept bugging me until I did. At least it would keep him off of my trail for a little bit, distract him from finding out the complete truth about me. Even though I had hoped to postpone the revealing of my wings, it had to happen sometime.

    I had resigned myself to the fact that I had to at least cooperate with S.H.I.E.L.D for a little bit until I could get some information about my father. The truth was I had hit a wall in my investigating, and there were so many demons prowling the city these nights that I had no time to interrogate someone, knowing that if I wasted even a second of my time it would result in the death of an innocent person and the strengthening of whatever plans Corvus had for the Irritum Animam, which he wasn't going to store in a closet like some toy he didn't want to play with anymore.

    "I'm guessing that Fury's watching this?" I chuckled dryly, eyeing several hidden cameras tucked in the corners of the room.

    "Actually, yes. He has been the whole time." Coulson stated, not wasting any time with a useless lie. At least he was honest, even about unhonest things.

    "Well, then I better not keep him waiting." My eyes slid around the room before I spoke again, taking in the expectant faces. "No, I'm not a mutant. But I'm not normal, so I don't really know what I am."

    "Then let's see them." Tony interjected, an excited and curious gleam in his dark brown eyes. So, Tony Stark the genius had put the pieces together and had figured it out. I was honestly surprised he hadn't said anything the second he'd realized it.

    "Them?" Thor boomed, confused.

    Slightly smirking, I opened my wings, feeling the muscles in my back expand as they extended, the smooth, dark feathers gleaming.

    There was an air of awe that hung in the room as everyone took in the sight of my wings, which weren't open all of the way but enough to be hanging several feet from my sides. Tony slowly circled me, taking in every detail.

 "Your jacket- how does that work? Your wings can go through it but the material instantly closes when you pull in your wings." Tony looked like an excited little kid at Christmas, who had just laid eyes on the present he had been hoping for all year long. "Another one of Lucius's designs, I'm guessing?"

    I nodded, watching him warily as he still walked circles around me, quietly scrutinizing and gathering data.

    "I suppose your wingspan is around ten feet when fully extended?" Dr. Banner asked me, observing me with eyes full of uninhibited wonder and interest.

    "I've never measured, but that sounds about right."

    "Your wings, are they always out and folded against your back?"

    "No, they can go all the way into my back. Don't ask how, I'm not exactly sure."

    My wings weren't always out and pressed tightly against my back- they actually retracted all the way into me, folding somewhere behind my shoulder blades. I had no idea how it worked; when my wings were all the way in all I could feel was the smooth skin of my back but still be able to feel the pressure of my wings behind my shoulder blades. Something I'll never understand fully, perhaps.

    I was starting to feel uncomfortable under everyone's combined gazes; I was used to asking all of the questions and being unseen, not the one being interrogated and examined.

    Thor seemed slightly confused and wonderstruck, but on the other hand Barton and Romanoff seemed almost unaffected, their trained, carefully blank expressions not cracking. Captain America looked as if he was still in shock, but his expression was slightly unreadable. Coulson's face hadn't changed at all, giving nothing away.

    "You said you weren't a mutant, so what are you?" Romanoff asked, a hint of suspicion lacing her tone. 

    "Human. And no, I won't tell you how I got my wings." I replied curtly, knowing the question she was implying.

    Coulson moved and pressed a hand to his ear, nodding and saying "Thank you, Jenkins." before turning to me. "I was just told that it was reported that Fury's heading this way, and he doesn't look too happy."

    "Does he ever?" Tony wisecracked.

    Director Fury stormed into the room, stalking to position himself in front of me.

    "So, the Phantom finally decides to throw me a bone and show her face? Not to mention the sudden surprise." He paced around me slowly, his shoes clicking on the floor. "What I want to know is, why now? Why choose this moment?" Stopping, he looked me directly in my eyes, his stony glare demanding answers.

    "You're trying to intimidate me." I stated, smirking. "Doesn't it frustrate you that it isn't working?"

    Fury and I stood there in silence, each staring the other evenly in the eyes, unwavering.

    "Tomorrow night there will be a gala held for city officials, meaning that the Fycon City Council will be attending. Vermont himself won't be in attendance, but Howard Krale, a council member and a suspected member of the League, will be there." The director announced to the room at large, but still kept his eyes trained on mine; a silent stare down.

    "Two people are going to go undercover into the gala and find Krale to interrogate him. Originally, I was going to send in Agent Romanoff and Captain Rogers, but since the Phantom has chosen such an opportune time to show her face, she and Cap will be our informants. More information will be given later."

    I bristled, but I didn't show it, the battle of wits between me and the director of S.H.I.E.L.D still continuing. Fury's sending me to a party? His way of getting back at me, knowing that I prefer to do the whole stalk-and-interrogate-on-the-spot routine, not go undercover to get information. Maybe I could stay in the corner of the room and watch from there and not have to get involved in the middle of the party or interact with anyone.

    With a smug glint in his eye and a slight smirk on his face, Fury strolled out of the room.

    "It's formal wear only- so don't forget to dress up! Oh, and did I forget to mention that you two are going as dates? You may want to bring your dancing shoes!" He called over his shoulder mockingly.

    Captain America and I both froze, him blushing slightly as we sent identical half-startled and half-horrified glances at each other.

    I hate Fury.

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