Devourer of Sins

DEVOURER OF SINS CHAPTER THIRTY ONE (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply


A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, you never struck me as an eclipse! LOL ...Maybe Ted can train Billy and Joaquin to bring tea...so far, they just manage to point me in the direction of the kitchen when I ask... InterNutter, TC and Maxwell Pink are superspiffygroovy for archiving. Masses of pixies to do your every whim are being sent your way now... Readers/Reviewers: The Platypi have been subdued...no one's talking, but I found some fur around the perimeter of the compound....It looks suspiciously cat-like...

Jean felt numb all over and for a brief moment, panicked. Then realization sank in and she felt silly-_Snow. I'm face-down in snow. Smart, Grey. Really freakin' smart... _ Her head rang a carillon of pain as she staggered to her feet, the full knowledge of what had happened first and foremost in her mind. She still could not pick up signs of life inside the mansion, but she knew that, somehow, her friends were alive within. _Okay...scanning hurts. We'll have to do this the old fashioned way... _ Crunching through the fresh snow and frozen grass, feeling like her brain was sloshing in her skull, Jean made her way carefully up the icy steps and tried the front door, shoving hard with her shoulder after her failed first attempt. Giving it a savage, frustrated kick, she fought the urge to yell at the piece of wood and instead took a deep breath. _It's inanimate, Jean. Yelling at it will only make you feel better. It won't accomplish anything. _ "Stupid fucking door!" she yelled after a moment. _There. Don't you feel better? Yes. Did the door open? No. Shut up, self. Around the side...Stop talking to yourself...People are going to think you're crazy. What people? Damn it, stop it! _ She knew she was babbling out of fear but still stemmed the flow, trudging around the side of the house to the garage. She tried to lift the door mentally and failed, the metal not giving one whit. _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. That last one was just for me...1 _ Closing her eyes to calm herself, she moved onward, heading towards the old service entry near the laundry room. _Locked. Since when did we start locking all these damned doors? _ Cursing whoever was on a safety kick all of a sudden, Jean knew what had to come next. She moved further along the back of the house, coming to a large window overlooking the small terrace set up as an outdoor sitting area. _The Professor can take it out of my savings... _ A quick look around told her there was nothing reasonably heavy to loft at the window. _ I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this_... With numb fingers (_where the Hell did my gloves go? _ ) Jean hurriedly untied one boot and slid it off her stocking and sock clad foot. Hopping in place, trying to maintain balance, she said a silent prayer to whoever was listening that this would work and threw her heavy boot as hard as she could at the window, the one, she realized as the footwear left her hand, that graced the wall of the Professor's downstairs study. _Shit...he's gonna kill me... _ The sound of glass shattering sounded preternaturally loud in the still night air, making Jean cringe and duck down, hiding from anyone who may have heard the break-in. She waited a full five minutes before rising, her bootless foot numb as her fingers and her face reddened from the increasing wind. _Hell of a night for a storm... _ Still half-crouched, she made her way to the broken window and found her boot just inside, within arm's reach. She used it to knock more glass out of the way and let herself in carefully, hissing as shards of glass found their way inside her sock. _Mind over matter, babe...suck it up... _ Jean put her boot back on but did not tie it, limping as the glass ground into her sole with each step.
The room flooded with light at the audible click of the switch and Jean swayed woozily, her eyes taking a moment to get used to the brightness. Papers, she noticed immediately, were everywhere. The room smelled strongly of something organic, musky and raw with a faint floral tinge to it. _Where have I smelled that before? _ She closed her eyes and cleared her mind, letting the image come to her. _Those orchids...those weird glowing things...how the Hell... _ Jean backed against the wall out of reflex, realization and fear overcoming her in one fell swoop. _That crazy bitch followed us here...She wanted Kitty and Kurt for some reason and now she's here... _ Jean knew now why she could not pick up on any thoughts or use her telekinesis-she was blocked as she had been at the Templo de la Muerte, blocked by someone stronger than herself, stronger than even the Professor, she realized with a sickening mental thud, something catching her eye and drawing her forward at the same time. _His chair...he can't go anywhere without it...Oh, God... _ Jean proceeded to tear the room apart, looking under the desk, behind furniture, even going so far as to pry open the crawl space in the wall, popping the nails long painted over by Logan that held the door shut in order to peer into the darkness and find nothing. _Where did the Professor go? _ "Help me," she whispered aloud to no one. "Help me...please?" A shuffling noise near the door made her dive for cover, rolling behind the low sofa and tucking her knees under her chin, trying to become as small as possible. The door swung open virtually soundlessly, whoever was entering pausing before entering. _The light...fuck...the light wasn't on when I came in...damn it... _ Shaking now, unsure of anything, Jean edged forward slowly, flattening out to peer under the edge of the couch, trying to see who had entered within the one bare inch of space between the furniture and the floor. _Boots...men's boots... _ The feet paused directly in front of the sofa and Jean felt her bones become liquid and hot with fear.
"What the Hell are you doing on the floor, Red?"
"Logan!" Jean launched herself from the floor and at Logan so fast that the man was sure she had flown.
"Where's everyone, kid?" Logan gently disentangled himself from her desperate grip and looked around the room, noticing not only thsarrsarray but also the wheelchair. _Don't know if I want to know. _
"I don't know!" She related the incident with Kurt and Kitty as they returned from their late night walk and Logan sighed roughly. "What is it?"
All around them, distantly but clearly, a steady thudding set up, heavy and vibrating through the entire house. "Jean, we've got ourselves on hell of a problem..."

Storm held Itzli tightly by the upper arm. She had unbound his legs but kept his wrists and hands tied together behind his back. "I do not trust you. You're of the same stock as your...third gens, as you call them. I have seen the damage inflicted on Kitty by one of you..."
"That wasn't me...Tlazolteotl is rogue...she's gone crazy!" Itzli's voice had taken on a whining tone and was making Storm's teeth grate.
"How can she go mad if she's not human?" Storm was creeping through the rec room towards the foyer, Itzli in tow, as Logan checked the downstairs rooms for signs of life. It had been decided that she would check upstairs first and they would meet in the kitchen before going as a group to the lower levels.
Itzli sighed and rolled his eyes only to wince when Storm pinched the flesh of his bicep roughly. "She's third gen and part organic. She's not human and never was, but she's got sentience. She's thinking for herself...that's why the Deus Project was abandoned. The later gens were ten times more dangerous than any mt alt alive..."
"Keep getting me angry and I think you'll beg to differ," Storm bit out. They were gaining the stairs and she pushed him ahead of her, keeping one hand on Itzli at all times, even though he had shown no sign of running yet.
"The third gens...ever see _Terminator _ ?"
"Yes...unfortunately," she sighed. After a second, she added, "You watch movies?"
"Us first gens, when we became...useless...they had to keep us busy somehow. We were put into a giant dormitory and farmed out for parts when the second and third gens needed them. Mostly, we watched movies all day." Itzli shrugged. "The third gens developed a mind of their own, deviating from the set parameters and...expounding on direction."
"What direction would that be?" Storm peered into Scott's room and paused, seeing signs of a struggle. _Bright Lady help us... _
"It depended on the sector. Some were strictly black ops, high security stuff-political assassinations, military coups... Some were grunts, soldiers being perfected for mass production, an army of late gens. Some, though..." Itzli cringed, trying to pull away before saying, "some were made to destroy mutantkind. Cleanse the human race of impurities... Protect norms from contamination and preserve...preserve humanity."
Storm froze and drew herself up to her full height, eyes crackling with electric rage. "Preserve humanity?"
"I didn't make it up! Don't hurt me!"
Whatever she was going to say was cut off with the onset of vibrations, crashing noises, shaking the floor beneath their feet. Itzli whimpered in Storm's grasp. "It's her," he said softly, "she's here..."

Kurt was very happy. Kitty lay before him, propped on her elbows and smiling with the lazy ease of one entirely content. She was clothed but he was quickly changing that fact, tugging on first one shoe, then the other, her socks flying to join the sneakers. With gentle fingers, he caressed her insteps and smiled widely when she giggled, throwing her head back to expose the smooth column of her throat in the process. Kurt purred, pleased with even the minimal progress he was making and slid his hands up her calves, bare beneath her shorts. "You have the most lovely legs," he said, edging slowly between them, her ankles the knees parting to allow him closer. Kitty did not speak but rather smiled encouragement, her demeanor asking for more, and he happily complied. He ran his hands over her rounded hips, his tail snaking along the inside of her thighs as he did so. Kurt loved how soft her skin felt, how warm it was to his touch and how Kitty seemed to respond to even the smallest caress with a sigh, melting against him even in public. She bit her lip as his hands found their way under her t shirt, kneading and stroking her skin, memorizing the feel of the swell of her stomach, the planes of her ribs and the indentation of her navel under his touch. Her eyes drifted closed and he leaned forward then, kissing first one corner of her mouth, then the other, nibbling her lower lip to beg entry. Kitty's tongue darted out to lick his lip and Kurt closed his mouth over it, each vying for dominance of the embrace and neither truly wanting to win. Somewhere, just on the very edge of his hearing, he heard voices but when he pulled away to look and see if anyone was coming, they were alone. Kitty pulled his face back to hers gently, arching against him in the process. Kurt could feel her wet heat against his arousal, her hips grinding against his in a slow undulation, making him bite back a groan of desire. They kissed again, Kitty moving from his mouth to his neck, nipping and sucking on his throat as he pushed her bra up, uncovering her breasts. He rolled her stiffening nipples between his thumb and finger and Kitty sighed, murmuring against him and driving him onward. Her shorts were gone, he noticed, and did not care how it had happened. Nor did he care, he reflected, how his pants went missing as well. He slid into her easily, her warmth around him like so much liquid silk, making him grunt with the effort not to drive into her and slake his burgeoning passion. Kitty arched again, rocking her hips to start a rhythm and Kurt fell to with enthusiasm. Her soft cries and moans made him half crazed with the need to control himself and he was verging on losing even the last vestige of that when she der ner nails into his back, one hand between his shoulders and one at the base of his tail, which was joining his length between her legs, stroking the bud of desire there and making her move faster. A thudding noise intruded on his enjoyment, breaking his attention away from the dream-come-true that he was experiencing, making him stop mid-thrust. "What the Hell is that?" The sound was louder, closer and far more frightening than when it first began.
"Kitty!" a familiar voice cried out.
Kurt shook his head and saw that she was gone and he was alone _What the Hell... _ "Katzchen?" His throat hurt and his voice sounded weak in his own ears. The bed, he noticed, was also gone. He was on the floor. Instead of his familiar walls, it was the edge of the lab table. _I knew it was too good to be true... _ Realization flooded his brain. He shook himself, driving away the last vestiges of the drug-induced sleep as his body kicked into gear once more. "Katzchen!" he cried, louder now and stronger. His frantic eyes found her at last, near the door, crouched on the counter. The door shattered inward in one breath and Kurt cried out sharply. Kitty did not seem to hear him. She was leaping through the air at the woman storming into the lab, screaming invectives at her as blood coursed afresh from beneath her bandages.
1 Dennis Miller moment...