Playing With Fire (EDITING)

Murderous Megan

"What do you mean gone?" Megan nearly shouted. "He can't just be gone!"

"Well, he is! There's no trace of him," Han replied.

"Of course he left no trace." Kitty and Doug seemed to be the only calm ones among us. "He's Loki- he's a sorcerer and a conniving, power-thirsty, thorn in the backside," she hissed.

Megan's eyes were darker than usual and her wings flitted erratically, keeping her a few inches above the leaves. The fingers clutching her dagger were white at the knuckle, her pink braid slapped around in the breeze from her wings, and every now and then she would release this type of feral growl. Overall, she appeared murderous. "Oh I'll give his backside something to complain about, trust me. He'll be in so much pain-"

"Ugh, you sound like my mom," Doug moaned. He pitched up his voice to mock that of a woman's. "Douglas Ramsey, don't you make me count to three! If I get to three, I'll spank you so hard you won't sit for a week!"

Kurt and Han laughed with their heads thrown back and their worries briefly forgotten. Even Kitty and I laughed. Megan barely cracked a smile.

"Lighten up," Kurt admonished Megan. "It's not like he was worth anything."

With a thud and a thwang, her dagger embedded itself in the tree half an inch to the right of Kurt's ear. "Maybe not to you!"

"Oh don't tell me," Kurt began.

"Since Asgard," Doug supplied.

Megan looked angrily between them, unsure whose throat to slit first.

Han stood with both hands spread. "It doesn't matter anymore. We'll continue with the plan, and once we get far enough, Megan can teleport us to the town, and we'll finish on foot from there. Until then, let's pack up and go."

His orders were obeyed and soon we were on our way. Through my thick leather jacket, the biting wind raised goosebumps on my arms. Kitty, Megan, and I had been wise to tie our hair back, but Doug's hair whipped around his face. The trees above us bent to threaten us with shaking branches and gnarled limbs like scolding fingers. No sunlight peeped through the low, stifling clouds. As we walked, the world took on a more menacing appearance.

"So," Kurt began, attempting a brave tone.

He was hushed by Han's calloused hand landing over his mouth. "No one speak," he hissed.

I felt it too- the feeling of being watched. As if eyes bored through your flesh and bone into your thoughts and inner meanings. Quite an unnerving experience.... one I knew all too well.

"Let's take a break," Doug suggested quietly.

"He's right," I agreed. "We're just paranoid."

Even though I had searched the woods multiple times for any humanoid tendrils of thought and returned empty, that didn't mean the presence wasn't there. Minds could be easily camouflaged according to Xavier. Next time, I would scour more thoroughly.

"Lyrica! Keep up!" Kitty tugged me along and I lost my bullet train of focused thoughts. "Who are you thinking about?"

"No one. Not a person. An idea."

"An idea about who?"

"Mon Papére," I answered.

She was quick to speed her steps and begin a different conversation with Megan ahead of me. What was so bad about thinking? It seemed all anyone else ever did nowadays was act first and think after, but plans needed meditation. You had to see every twist and curve and loophole, every trap and pitfall, every minute detail and pressure point to have a deep-seated confidence, a profound surety, in your actions.