If Yesterday Was Tomorrow [ X-Men ]

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Are you sure?" asked Victor in Spanish.

"Si," answered the girl. "She was not anywhere in this city. If she was, none of us know about it. We would've have noticed a shapeshifter."

"Gracias," Victor thanked. The girl nodded before going back to her duties as a little mutant boy pulled her away, talking about some guys attacking their base.

Victor turned to Azazel, who had been patiently waiting in silence during the whole conversation.

"She's not here," Victor quickly mentioned. Azazel swore for a good five seconds.

"We'll find her," assured Victor with what he wished to be a hopeful tone. Azazel looked down, passing a hand in his hair. His eyes were darkened by the dark circles under his eyelids. When was the last night where he'd been able to sleep properly?

"Time's running out," Azazel whispered under his breath. Victor grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"We'll find her," he repeated, "we cleared up most of the places she could've gone to. It's only a matter of time before we find Mystique."

Azazel looked away, slipping his hand away from his grip. Victor bit his lip. He was starting to get irritated and tired. He tried his best to cheer his best friend up, but it was hard when their search had gotten no result for over six months. Mystique had disappeared. She was a master of disguise, that was for sure, but every mutant gang in all the countries they'd visited had not seen her, which was quite the feat: they all had their eyes open for every mutant in their territory.

"Let's go back," proposed Victor before Azazel fell deeper into hopelessness. "It's getting late. We'll continue tomorrow."

Azazel didn't answer, but still put his hand on Victor's shoulder. They teleported away. They appeared in the Hellfire Club's headquarters, where they lived most of the time where they weren't traveling all over the world. Emma supported their search, but had concentrated her work on rebuilding the Hellfire Club's reputation and relations with American politicians. Because of her hard work and efforts, the Club was now even more influential than when Shaw was running it.

Emma had this irresistible charisma and assurance that assured her respect and obedience. Even the humans working for them were subjugated by her beauty and elegance first, before falling for her intelligence. She was more than a pretty face, and most of their workers enjoyed working for a femme fatale. Of course, only a few knew of the fact that Emma, Azazel and Victor were mutants, but those would not betray them. Because if they did, Emma would make sure that their life would become a literal hell.

Victor was surprised by Emma's absence. Usually, she waited for them to enjoy a daily evening drink as they (mostly Victor and Emma) chatted about their days. She loved those moments, because it chased away the loneliness in her heart that appeared every time that Azazel and Victor disappeared each morning in search of a ghost. She'd never miss it, even if she had to stay up later. As she'd missed their meeting in the morning, Victor was sure that she'd at least show up in the evening.

"Where's Emma?" asked Victor to no one in particular. Azazel didn't answer and slumped on the couch. He closed his eyes tiredly.

Victor grimaced. Azazel had not been doing well lately. He wished with all his heart that they would find Mystique quickly enough. And that Azazel would stop agonizing over the fact that he'd lost her that doomed night in Germany. It wasn't his fault: it was Erik that had driven her away in the end. But now, she was lost, and so was the kid, and Azazel was driven mad by the possibility that something might have happened to them.