Mirror, Mirror

Mirror Mirror Chapter Ten
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… So…gonna dress up for Samhain? ;) InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: It’s coming, really. It’s around here somewhere… Morgan: *gloke* Readers/Reviewers: There might not be an update Sunday because of things going on Saturday. Just a head’s up. J In the meantime, thank you muchly for reading/reviewing! It keeps the ducks happy.


“GET OFF ME!”
“NO!” Rahne tightened her grip on Amara, her dual nature lending strength to an already strong musculature. “Not till ye calm yerself!”
Amara fell silent, letting her powers simmer just beneath the surface of her control. She knew her skin was warming—she felt the glow from deep inside her seeping through her pores, golden like the sun as Rahne’s grip held, unwavering. A hiss of discomfort escaped the Scottish girl, however, and Amara smiled bitterly, amping up her powers a bit. “Let me go,” she said calmly, “and I’ll stop.”
Rahne snarled, an animal sound far removed from her human voice. “Calm down or I’ll bite your pretty neck,” she growled. She could feel Amara hesitate, unsure whether or not the threat was serious. Rahne’s fingers curled, her nails thickening and lengthening as her hands squeezed the Nova Roman’s arms. After a few tense seconds, Amara’s skin cooled rapidly and she went limp in Rahne’s grasp.
“Amara,” Storm’s calm voice broke over them like a wave, “Rahne will release you in a moment. When she does, you will sit calmly on the settee and tell me the reason for your…fit.” She gave Rahne a significant look, warning her not to let go just yet. “And then we will discuss rational responses to anger.”
Amara closed her eyes and waited, counting her breaths until Rahne released her slowly, first loosening her grip, her legs unwrapping and her arms relaxing, then stepping back out of arm’s reach. The Nova Roman opened her eyes and fixed Storm with a dark gaze that was devoid of any emotion save for anger. “I wish to stand.” Her voice was flat but not without affect. Rather, it was pure rage that drove her words.
“Then stand,” the older woman conceded. Storm folded her arms across her middle and leaned back against the desk in the study, her platinum brows drawn together in displeasure. “Now what is the reason for your childish behavior, Amara?”
The young woman paused, seeming to weigh her words before she spoke them. Finally, she spat them out like they carried a repugnant taste, letting them fall hard and fast on listening ears. “Lance has decided to vindicate my dishonor by going into town. Someone,” she paused, glaring at thin air as she pictured the tattle tale, “decided that it was in my best interest to reveal that bit of my personal shame.”
“Amara,” Storm said softly, torn between hurt for the girl’s need to hide behind a shield of hard disdain and anger at her for being so tempestuous, “Lance cares about you. All of us do. That is why this person told him about your run in at the bookstore. It was not to hurt you…”
“Storm,” Amara cut her off tersely, her eyes narrowing, “the people who gave me problems were Friends of Humanity.”
Rahne let out a rough breath, tugging her pigtails back into submission. “Are ye sure, Amara? They were likely just assholes who wanted to rough up a strange girl who looked to be an out of towner…”
“Unfortunately, Bayville is not free from racism,” Storm put in as gently as she could. Her eyes swept over Amara’s olive complexion, her ears marking the soft accent that was so easy to miss unless it was new to you.
Amara gritted her teeth and counted to six before giving up on keeping her temper entirely. “Hide your head like those great big birds. I don’t care. But I know they were in that group and Lance is walking into something terrible and dragging everyone with him. You people cannot let others suffer for their own mistakes! You have to rush in after them and clean up their mess!”
“Yes,” Rahne snapped, “and where would you be without that?”
“I wouldn’t be here,” Amara replied shortly, pushing past the now completely human-appearing teenager. “I’d be at peace!”


Kurt’s tail lashed from side to side as he watched Remy pacing in the dark. He had been called from his room by the clatter of pebbles against the window only to find the prodigal Cajun prowling beneath the massive old oak tree like some sort of caged animal, his coattails flapping angrily behind him with each sharp turn. “Remy,” he finally sighed, an edge of nervous fear in his voice, “please tell me why you’re here.”
“It’s…” he paused and shook his head, abandoning those words for others. “Jubilation…she okay?”
“Ja,” Kurt replied quickly, sitting up straight on his chosen branch, his palms suddenly clammy. “What have you heard?”
“Rien.” Remy made a sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating a everyone hidden within the mansion’s walls. “No one but jus’ a few know where I been. An’ Jubilee, she ain’t returnin’ letters or answerin’ calls. I was worried she… she gone back to L.A.” He shrugged helplessly and fixed Kurt with a baleful, demonically red gaze in the dark. “She okay?”
“Ja,” Kurt nodded, his throat parched. “She’s okay. She…misses you.” He dropped from the tree to stand before Remy and part of him hissed a reminder that this other man was a trained killer, meant to slip through shadows and leave death silently in his wake. _Klappe, _ Kurt ordered the less than helpful part of his mind. Swallowing again, this time wincing as it made his throat ache, he said slowly, “Remy, I don’t think you should run off without seeing her.”
“Oui, I know… mais… where is she?” He raked his fingers through uncharacteristically messy hair, glancing about the dark as if he could see Jubilee hiding amongst the landscaping. “She here tonight?”
“Ja, she’s here. She’s in her room, I think.” Kurt rubbed his lips with shaking fingers, not quite able to meet Remy’s intense gaze.
“Problem, mon ami?”
“Nein… I just…” He trailed off and shook his head.
“Kitty?”
“Ja,” Kurt seized on part of the reason for his upset. “Kitty.”
Remy nodded. “I’ll come to ya after I see Jubes an’ we can talk, d’accord?”
“That,” Kurt breathed as Remy disappeared around the side of the house, “is what I’m afraid of.”