Chapter 214: Start of Something New (I)

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Next morning.

Dante stirred awake to a rustle that didn’t belong to Gwen. Before even opening his eyes, he knew who it was from the way the atmosphere changed. Natasha’s Spirit of Vengeance had come uninvited first thing in the morning.

He went to sit up and discovered he couldn’t. Both of his shoulders had been webbed to the mattress. The culprit was curled against his side with one arm slung across his chest and one knee planted on his abdomen, sleeping without a care in the world.

’Still doing things in her sleep.’

He tore the webs with his hands and gently pushed her knee away before eying the burning skull hovering by the bedside. "Here for intel?"

The Spirit had promised him the whereabouts of the other Widows, which was crucial for the operation.

"What else would I be here for?"

"Whoa, somebody’s in a mood this morning." He put on a shirt with a smile. "Were the pillows not warm enough all night, or is it something else? Oh, wait. I forgot you can’t sleep in a bed."

Her fiery eyes stared at him. If she was in Natasha’s body, that intense stare might have qualified as a Penance Stare.

He pushed the blanket back up over Gwen’s shoulder, then reached for his phone on the nightstand. His memory was almost perfect, but there wasn’t a point in taking a chance. If Anna had been here, he’d have passed the job to her without thinking twice.

’I miss her a bit.’

He was still upset that the Anna side of Raven Darkh?lme might be gone once she woke up.

"What are you doing?"

He tilted his head. "Taking notes?"

The Spirit huffed and turned around, showing a USB drive stuck to her skull. "Here is your data."

He grabbed the drive with telekinesis. "Isn’t Natasha in a containment cell? Where did she get this?"

"She is still a SHIELD Agent. That gives her privileges normal prisoners cannot have."

"I see."

He plugged the drive in his phone. Emma’s gifted phone had way too many useless features. The drive had only a folder containing fourteen files. He scrolled through the files then gave the Spirit a wide-eyed stare.

"Fourteen locations?"

Fourteen houses spread across New York, housing a hundred and two Widows.

"The Red Room was huge in their glory days," the Spirit responded calmly. "The Russian government funded them. They had hundreds of agents under them. Natasha only managed to save a portion."

"Aren’t you an informed demon?"

She did what was closest to an eyeroll a burning skull could perform. "What? Getting cold feet now? Can Death’s beloved not accomplish such a measly task?"

Fourteen was four more than his initial assumptions. He ran the roster in his head. Psylocke, Emma, Gwen, Felicia, Laura, Jean, Ororo, Piotr, Illyana, Lady Loki, and himself. Candra and Gambit could be counted as his people now. Emma had to stay behind and keep everyone coordinated, so he needed two more bodies.

’I can call Hela. The other person...’

He raised an eyebrow, brushing over the list of reliable, competent individuals in his mind. The Hellions couldn’t be included. They were talented and eager to prove themselves, but they were also teenagers. A joint operation on this scale had no tolerance of failure.

’Looks like I have to bring her back.’

He really wanted her to have a peaceful vacation before her first university year swamped her with stress, but he no longer had that luxury.

He smiled at the Spirit, who was still staring at him. "Don’t worry about me. Focus on preparing yourself for three months of slavery."

"Call off the deal," she grunted. "Natasha is your lover now. You do not need another incentive to help her."

He ran his hand along the thick ridges of her skull. The bright flames fanned out, nearly licking the ceiling.

"You little—"

"Miss, you’re an ancient demon. You have to honor your words."

The deal had been simple when they struck it right after Natasha was arrested. He would save Natasha, and in exchange he would receive three months of the Spirit’s assistance. The Spirit had negotiated on assumption that Natasha and him would never be close again, which he had also believed at that moment.

However, circumstances changed, and he and Natasha got back together. The result was he would get double the return on one deal—Natasha as his lover and the Spirit as his helper. The Spirit’s rage was entirely from the fact that she had gotten impatient and desperate. If she had waited, she wouldn’t have gotten Natasha out without being someone’s servant for three months.

"Why is the lover of a cosmic entity such a petty man?"

He chuckled. "If you make a habit of taking advantage of others, don’t be surprised when others take advantage of you."

"When did—"

"Norman facility when you took control."

The Spirit fell quiet. She had gotten greedy and forced him to make a desperate teleport into Asgard. Without her doing that, Odin would’ve been alive and well and ruling Asgard.

"Oh, and tell Natasha not to stress herself. In three hours, she’ll be standing next to me."

The Spirit bashed his hand away and gave a grudging nod. "Don’t let your guard down. Fury keeps contingencies for situations like these."

"I’m not careless." He glanced at his sleeping girlfriend. "Sometimes."

Then again, he had left everyone to fight their own battles so they could gain experience and improve, and every one of them had come through it splendidly. The only misfortune was that Gwen drew the short straw and had to fight the only individual fully capable of neutralizing her, which he half-suspected had been the world itself attempting to correct her trajectory and shepherd her back toward the heroic path.

’It’s not happening.’

What she had done yesterday completely solidified her position as more than just a Spider-Totem.

***

Some time later.

Dante leaned back against the reception desk with his arms crossed and watched the street through the glass doors. At precisely seven o’clock, a limousine slowed down outside. Psylocke stepped out of the driver’s seat and walked around the vehicle to open the rear door like it had become her habit.

Emma stepped out, holding Sharon in her arms. She was dressed to the nines, white turtleneck, matching shortskirt, and a long white overcoat with a fur collar draped over her shoulders. The sunglasses were most certainly there to conceal her emotional state, but he admitted they looked good on her.

Psylocke shut the car door and followed Emma inside.

Sharon’s face lit up like it always did whenever she spotted him. But what happened next caught him off-guard. Sharon narrowed her eyes, giving him the cat equivalent of an annoyed frown.

’What...?’

Death’s bright chuckle directly reached his ears. "Sharon is quite amusing."

"Good morning," Psylocke said. "Are we late?"

"Morning. And no, you’re on time. I hope it wasn’t too bothersome," he said, prompting a soft smile and a headshake from Psylocke. "We’ll start when everyone is here."

"I’m good at waiting." Emma’s words seemed like a jab at him, which they probably were. It seemed Psylocke’s confession last night had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. Emma was determined to make him feel the weight of his decision without saying anything directly to his face.

He reached for Sharon, who instinctively extended her paws to him with a cheerful mewl. Emma scratched Sharon’s back, and his adopted daughter’s entire demeanor changed. She showed that annoyed expression again. Emma smiled and rubbed her face against Sharon, making her turn and burying her face in the fur of her collar.

"Sharon... what happened?"

"She is sleepy." Emma turned around and walked over to sit on the lobby metal chairs. "Psy, can you fetch Sharon’s snacks from the car?"

Psylocke shot him a look of pure helplessness. It seemed she had tried to work for some kind of peace, but Emma had declined. Instead, Emma had convinced Sharon into joining a campaign of psychological warfare, the first step of which was torturing his heart with a distant attitude. Despite how little time they had spent together, their psychological attack stung him like a dagger in his chest.

’I’ll deal with them later.’

The elevator chimed, signaling the arrival of his next teammate. Illyana walked out of the elevator, her hair looking like a bit of a disaster, real bedhead. She had skipped a shower, which to be fair, she had already done at night.

"Morning, everyone," she said, waving at him while yawning. She went around and plopped down onto the reception desk with her back against him. "This weather feels like home... and not in a good way."

Dante nudged her back with his elbow. "I could fix that for you with Biokinesis, you know."

She was one of the few allies he hadn’t touched with his Biokinesis, well, apart from that time he had rescued her from Belasco. Her body was completely unmodified. He wondered what type of genetic potential was sitting inside her. It might turn out to be something absurd on the order of Psylocke’s abilities, or it might be purely cosmetic, the way Felicia’s claws were. They looked marvelous, and they were sharp, but they were as dangerous as a dagger.

"No, it’s fine." Illyana stretched her arms over her head, popping her shoulders, before she leaned against his back. "It’s alright to be sleepy every once in a while... reminds me that I’m still a human, not a monster."

"If you’re a monster, then I’m a walking disaster."

She chuckled. "You kind of are, if we are to believe triple J."

"Fuck that guy," he grumbled, getting another laugh out of Illyana. "They’re here."

Ororo and Jean came down the stairs next, neither of them looking remotely inconvenienced to be up early.

Jean gave him a nod and went straight over to sit beside Emma. Unlike him, Jean was greeted with a warm and friendly smile. Sharon also easily moved into Jean’s arms and began licking her face.

He let out a sigh. ’This is unfair.’

Ororo stopped beside him with raised eyebrows. "Did you and Emma fight?"

"No... why’d you think that?"

"She is over there," Ororo said, pointing at Emma over her shoulder. "You two are in the same room, yet she isn’t clinging onto you."

"I wouldn’t call it a fight. She made her decision... It was for the best."

Ororo gave a humming nod. "Never been in love with anyone, so I can’t help either side... just don’t hurt each other."

"I’m trying my best."

He turned to the elevator as it opened again. The elevator opened on Candra’s brilliant smile, which was a stark contrast to the two people behind her. Remy looked like he’d have preferred to be standing inside an active volcano than this elevator. Bella Donna stood with her arms folded, staring at the back of her ex-husband’s head with more hatred than JJJ had for Spideys.

Remy brushed past Candra and made a beeline to Dante. He slid down to sit on the floor with his back against the desk.

"Bon Dieu (Good god), that woman terrifies me," he muttered. "Can’t believe I stood up and made vows to her, all those years ago."

Dante laughed and squeezed his shoulder over his coat. "Thanks for coming."

"Heh. I’m on your payroll now, ain’t I? Man gotta do the work he’s getting paid for."

That wasn’t the whole truth. Remy LeBeau’s presence had very little to do with wages and a great deal to do with two other things, as far as Dante understood.

The first was this paranoia Nathaniel had stuffed in his head. The man was afraid of blowing up and causing destruction. Here, Dante would be able to contain Remy.

The second reason had to do with the woman following Candra. This was Remy’s best chance to repair his relationship with Bella Donna and get rid of the guilt weighing on his heart.

Dante smiled. "The woman we’re rescuing today, she told me ’Hate means she still feels something’. Sit her down for a talk and ask for her forgiveness. It’ll take time, but I’m sure you’ll win her back."

Remy was on his feet in an instant, staring at him. "You’re right, mon ami. Love and hate ain’t two different cards. They are the same, just turned over. Watch this."

Remy pulled out a card from his coat and flicked it across the lobby. The card curved around in a long boomerang arc, allowing him to catch it between his fingers. The back of the card showed a heart with a dagger driven through it. He turned it over and it was the Queen of Hearts.

"I’m gonna reverse that hate of hers and make her Remy’s cherished queen all over again. Watch me score another homerun."

"Good luck." Dante gave him a thumbs up. "Don’t come out of the gate too strong. Take it slow and easy."

Bella Donna’s resentment had been accumulating for years, it couldn’t be washed away in one evening.

"I know the real slow and sweet way to court a cher, boss," Gambit said, sliding the cards back into his coat with a wink. "Happy to share a few tips, if you ever need them."

"Tips..."

The only woman he currently wanted more than anything else in any world was sitting thirty feet away, wearing white, sunglasses still on, and feeding Sharon snacks with a smile. She noticed his gaze and looked over before turning away in an instant.

"We’ll talk over a drink," he whispered. "I’ll throw a grand party when we’re done with Nathaniel. A party the likes of which nobody has ever seen."

In Asgard, perhaps, or somewhere beyond the boundaries of this universe.

Remy’s red eyes gleamed. "You got me excited, boss."

***

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