Hellfire in New York

Hellfire in New York

Chapter 7: Confessions of the White Queen

Emma Frost entered Charles Xavier's study and seated herself at the Professor's invitation. For this interview, Xavier had chosen to move to the less formal part of the room, so Emma and Lilandra were seated in deep armchairs near the large window that looked out onto the grounds of the mansion.

Under the guise of giving her time to settle, Xavier studied the former White Queen. He had forced himself long ago to use other methods than his telepathy to get a sense of people. His deep respect for the privacy of other minds was the result of more than one unpleasant experience in his youth, and was now so firmly embedded as to be part of his nature. So his first impressions of his 'guest' were the ones a normal man of his intelligence and experience would have.

Emma Frost had deliberately not dressed formally for this meeting, which was significant. Xavier had given her time to change, had she wished, but she still wore the casual clothing she had taken to wearing lately. At the moment, it being a warm summer day, she had on a light, pale blue shirt, knotted under her breasts to expose her midriff, khaki shorts and sandals. Her long hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she wore only a little makeup. She had arrived at the mansion with nothing but the blanket Remus Lupin had wrapped her in, and as soon as she had been well enough, Xavier had offered her the opportunity to go, suitably escorted, to her New York home to collect some clothes. Emma had gracefully declined, preferring to continue borrowing clothes from Lorna Dane - Polaris - who was about the same size.

Instead, she had given her house keys to Cyclops, and asked him to go there and fetch her credit cards, driver's license, passport and various other documents. A few days later, escorted by Havok and Polaris, she had gone to a local shopping mall and purchased a selection of clothing very different from the collection of power-suits and designer outfits she had so casually abandoned. It seemed to Xavier that the change was important to her, as if in leaving those clothes behind she was also somehow ceasing to be the person who had worn them.

In much the same way, her manner of entering the room and seating herself had been noteworthy. She had moved with the simple, natural grace of a healthy, fit woman. Her body language as she sat waiting for Xavier to speak was expressive of calm, almost resignation. It was not the arrogant poise of the White Queen. Her eyes were alert, expectant, but unguarded. She wore her vulnerability like a badge, not of defeat, but of hard-earned victory. If she was deceiving them, she was doing so masterfully. It was time for Xavier to find out.

"Dr Frost..." he began, but she stopped him with a raised hand.

"Emma, please, Professor," she pleaded, "I'm so weary of everyone being so cold and formal with me."

Xavier inclined his head. "Then you must call me Charles." She smiled and nodded gratefully, and he went on. "If you wish, Emma, I can ask Lilandra to leave us alone."

Emma considered the alien Empress who sat so close to her human lover. The Shi'ar race was descended from avian stock, birds of prey, and Lilandra retained the poise and ferocity of a falcon. Emma did not need her powers to know that if she offered even the slightest threat to Xavier, her life would not be worth a moment's purchase. The Shi'ar were a warrior race, and Lilandra could easily tear Emma limb from limb if she chose. But their similarities were more important than their differences, so Emma shook her head.

"I'd like her to stay, please. You're a powerful telepath, Charles, but some of what I have to say, you won't understand because you're a man. Lilandra will understand those parts, and I know you trust her."

Xavier spread his hands. "As you wish." Then he projected to her, Would you prefer to speak this way?

Emma shook her head again. Thanks, but no. Aloud, she continued, "The things I want to say need to be said out loud. I need to hear myself say them."

"Very well. Where do you want to start?"

"At the beginning, I think. You need to know who the White Queen was, and where she came from, before you decide whether or not I'm still her." Emma's eyes lost their focus, as she made herself remember.

"I was the only child of wealthy parents; materially at least, I had everything I could want or need. But there was one great problem: It's one we share, Charles. Most Mutants don't manifest their abilities until puberty at least, but we Psionics are different. Our powers start to show very early. When I was four, I started to 'hear' what people around me weren't saying, as well as what they were saying. By the time I was six, I understood that I could read minds. At first, my folks didn't believe it; they took me to therapists to try and stop me 'hearing things'. Then they got scared. In the end, it got so they wouldn't come near me. I suppose you had the same thing?"

"In a way," Xavier replied, "though my mother at least never turned away from me." He did not elaborate, but he must have known that the Hellfire Club had complete files on him. Emma knew that the elder Xavier had died young, and that Charles' mother had married again - a dashing adventurer named Marko who had a son a little older than Charles. Marko had been after the Xavier fortune, and had tried to systematically poison his new wife. In the end, he had been driven from the home by the nascent telepathic powers of his stepson. Young Cain Marko had both hated and feared his uncanny stepbrother, and those feelings had set him on the path that had, years later, ended in his transformation into the near-indestructible villain known as Juggernaut.

Emma continued, "I tried to block my powers out, but there was no one to teach me how. So I threw myself into my schoolwork. I stayed away from people because I didn't want to hear what was going on in their heads. I was a nerd, a geek, a -what's that old-fashioned word - a bluestocking!

"But, just after I got my doctorate, my parents died. I know some people say that I killed them, or had them killed, but believe me, in those days I didn't have the nerve for that kind of thing! No, Mom had cancer, and it killed her. The stress of looking after her - he did it all himself, she was all he had - and the grief brought on Dad's heart attack a year later.

"So there I was. Twenty-four, rich enough that I didn't need to work, qualified to the hilt, plain, overweight, lonely and telepathic. By then I knew what I was, a Mutant. So I decided to do what you did, Charles, set up a school for Mutants. But nobody would give me the time of day, and in the end, I used my powers to find out why.

"It was then I realised the importance of image, and made my mind up to change mine." She gave a wry little laugh. "It didn't take that much work. Mom was a beauty in her day, and Dad was a handsome man. They passed their good looks on to me, but I'd never made anything of them. It's not like I needed surgery or anything. I dieted, exercised, bought some contact lenses and clothes, and learned how to use makeup. That fact that, after that, people were suddenly falling over themselves to help me set up the Academy, made me a little cynical.

"It was about seven years ago that I met Sebastian Shaw. He'd offered some funding to the Academy, you see, and wanted to meet. I was twenty-seven by then, and still a virgin. I'd learned how to flirt with men, to lead them on so I got my way, but I'd never let things go that far. Sebastian was older than me, but so charming, so vital, so charismatic! We had meetings, then lunches, then a few dinners. He was kind and gentle and entirely determined, and he seduced me. I would have lain down and died for him."

Emma paused, tears spilling down her cheeks. Xavier said nothing, but Lilandra's face was taut with sympathy as she passed a box of tissues across. Emma dried her eyes, then looked pleadingly at Xavier. "Charles, I know I shouldn't, but...."

He waved a hand. "If I can live with Wolverine's cigars and Sean's pipe, a Virginia Slim won't kill me. Go ahead."

Emma lit her cigarette and inhaled deeply and gratefully. "I've been trying to quit. It's a bad example to set the kids, and Remus gets mad at me about it - wizards have never smoked, it seems." She shook her head. "But back to what I was saying: Sebastian and I became lovers. What I didn't know then, of course, was that Henry Leland had been working with Sebastian for a year already, and that he'd found out what my Massachusetts Academy was really about. By the time Sebastian told me, I was completely his, and I just accepted it. He took my dream, my only dream, and twisted it to serve his own drive for power.

"Sebastian was already a member of the Hellfire Club - the legitimate one - and so was Henry. They got me into the Club, and the three of us founded the Inner Circle. While we were doing that, Sebastian and I, between us, created the White Queen. Sebastian stripped away every scrap of kindness and unselfishness in my nature and replaced it with his own naked greed and cold ambition - and I let him!" Emma was crying again, but this time she didn't pause. "I should have known better, but I wouldn't look into his mind. I was so scared I'd find that he didn't really love me after all. Which, of course, he didn't! Sebastian Shaw can no more be faithful to one woman than he can stop being a Mutant.

"Instead, I threw myself heart and soul into every scheme, every plot, every scam and underhand deal. It was me who recruited Donald Pierce.

"A lot of the rest you know. We crossed swords with your X-Men more than once, and most of the time you won. We learned to respect you as enemies. Only Donald really hates you, but that's because, even though you're Mutants, you're all still completely human, while he's half machine.

"Then, of course, there was that day, over a year ago now, at the mall in town. We thought that with Rogue, Iceman and Colossus gone, Ariel and the others would be easy prey. We figured the three English kids were just neo-Mutants who'd do nothing but hinder the others. We had no way of knowing about wizards, no way of knowing just how dangerous they were. We got knocked silly. Worse, I was completely humiliated by Harry Potter.

"Sebastian never said a word, but I was so scared he was ashamed of me. All I could think was that I'd let him down, and it was Harry's fault. When we came back and attacked the mansion a few weeks later, all I wanted was to get back at Harry, to make him pay!

"But again, I couldn't know that he's a telepath as well. Even if I had, I'd never have suspected that his will would be so much stronger than mine. Harry pulled my mind wide open, showed me the lie my life had become - then he just held me while I cried, and sent me to sleep.

"After that, I couldn't keep up the pretense. Oh, I tried. I even recruited a new member, Jason Wyngarde, the White Knight. I found him trying to pull a scam on one of my banks, using his illusionist powers. He told me he'd left Magneto's Brotherhood when he found out they were purely political - Wyngarde's in it for the money!

"But Sebastian also had a new recruit, Selene, the Black Queen. As soon as I saw them together, I knew they were lovers. I didn't know what to do. I watched her seduce Donald, and Henry, and Jason as well. I told Sebastian about it, and he just laughed and said that was how Selene was. He wanted to make love to me, but I told him we were finished! He just shrugged, and said that Selene would soon change my mind, then he left. An hour later, Selene came to my room at the Club, and tried to seduce me! It might have worked, too, but I was too upset. I ordered her out, left a message for Sebastian to say I needed some time to think, and went home.

"I got home, did a lot of thinking, and decided I'd had enough. I couldn't be the White Queen anymore. All I wanted was just to run my school without any of Sebastian's hidden agendas. I almost called you, Charles, for help, but I didn't have the nerve!"

"You should have," Xavier told her, "I'd have listened, at least."

"I know. I've been a fool," Emma admitted, "but it was already too late. When I came to look at my accounts and reports, I found out that I didn't own the school anymore. Sebastian had been secretly buying out the shareholders ever since we first got together. He has to control everything he touches, you know.

"I went storming back to the Club, to find everything changed. Selene was on top, now, and she was even twisting the fabric of our base. It was bigger, somehow. She'd been extending it by magic, and the 'new' parts all looked like something out of the Middle Ages. She even had a goddamn big throne room in place of our old conference room, and we all had to stand there while she lounged on that throne and ordered us around. Those four powerful men - treated like puppies! Selene had gathered together a bunch of American wizards, too. Most of them were pretty nasty types. They all hate Muggles - is that the word? Also, they hate some other type even worse. They call them 'Mudbloods', whatever that means."

"A Mudblood, as I understand it," Xavier explained, "is a wizard or witch, such as our Charm, whose ancestry is purely Muggle on both sides, no history of wizardry in the family. The term is considered an insult, much as some Mutants use the word 'flatscan' for normal humans."

"Oh. Well, they hate them like poison, anyway. So there I was, all this going on around me, looking up at that bitch on her fancy throne and wondering what I'd ever seen in that jerk, Shaw. I told her that I'd had enough, that I wanted to leave the Club, and that I'd take any promise she wanted not to reveal anything about what had gone or was going on.

"She just smiled at me, and said I shouldn't be too hasty, and I needed to hear what she had in mind. Then she told me that she was planning to open a Gateway to Hell and to summon demons through it to serve her. With those demons, she said, we could take over the world, run it as we saw fit. All our ambitions realised at a stroke, she said.

"But I was reading her mind - I think she underestimated my abilities, but I'd never told anyone how good a telepath I actually am. It makes it impossible for people to trust you, doesn't it?"

"I've never found that to be so," said Xavier sternly. "You can either trust someone, or you can't. Telepathy is not the issue; character is."

Emma looked abashed, but recovered herself and carried on. "I discovered what she really wanted. Selene feeds off life energy, you see. But for some reason, she can only do it to normal humans - Muggles. To sustain herself or to get energy for her magic, she needs to drain a person completely, and that kills her victim. She can siphon off a little energy from a wizard or Mutant during sex, but the special bio-energy that characterizes both Mutants and wizards is poisonous to her in large doses.

"What she wants most is to open this Gateway wide enough to summon her parents. Her mother is a demoness called Nevan, a vampiric type. Her father is an ancient wizard called Slytherin. Apparently, if she can bring them both up, they can do some magic that will 'complete' her, make her able to drain anyone. If she can drain Mutants or wizards, she'll gain their powers permanently. Selene intends to make herself a goddess!

"When I found that out, I decided I was out of there, and no promise on earth was going to keep me from telling someone! Whether it was you, Charles, or Dr Strange, or the Avengers, it didn't matter. I had to warn someone!

"Selene must have figured out that I'd discovered the truth, because she just looked at me, and I couldn't move or speak. They took me down to that dungeon, and there I stayed, a plaything for those filthy demons and that psychotic little bitch she set to guard me until Remus Lupin appeared out of nowhere to save me.

"There! That's it, all of it. You can believe me or not as you want, but I promise you it's all true. Now you can keep me here as a guest or a prisoner if you want, but please don't send me away. I've got nowhere else to go, and so much I've done needs to be made up for.

"The only other thing I'll ask for is this: Let Remus come visit with me sometimes. I don't have any history with him; he accepts me as he finds me, and I need that. Would that be OK, Cyclops?"

There was a moment's silence, then a hidden panel slid open, and Scott Summers stepped into the room. He went straight up to Emma and looked down into her eyes. "I'm sorry," he told her, "but we thought you wouldn't talk so freely if I was in the room. You might have been intimidated or something." He grinned ruefully. "I'm not an easy person, am I?"

"You take your responsibilities seriously," Emma replied, "but what about my request?"

"You are a guest in this house, and so may have any visitors you please, with some obvious exceptions," Xavier told her. "If you should wish to make your home here, for a time or for good, you are welcome to do so. However, as with any of the X-Men or our allies, you will need to prove yourself, not so much to us, as to yourself."

"Charles," Lilandra put in, "Emma is exhausted and upset. She should rest now. We can talk more, later, all of us. Come, Emma, I will take you back to your room."

Emma rose from her chair, accepting the friendly arm the statuesque Empress laid over her shoulders. Lilandra seemed to be supporting the smaller woman as the two of them left. Scott shook his head; this frail, tear-stained woman was unrecognisable as the proud, icy White Queen he had learned to respect in battle.

Scott turned to his mentor. "Well, Charles?"

Xavier held out his hands. "She was telling the truth, which is only to say that she believes what she told me. Whether she's really acting under her own will, or whether Selene is manipulating her, I can't be sure. That would involve magic, and that means only one person can tell us for sure."

Cyclops nodded. "Harry."

Xavier said, "Harry Potter's unique combination of mild telepathy and wizarding ability should enable him to detect any magical manipulation of Emma Frost's mind, I think.

"We need to call on Hawk, Firebird, Hunter and Charm anyway. The ease with which the attackers breached our technological defenses by magical means this morning has revealed a gaping hole in our security. Logan, in particular, will not rest until that gap is plugged! We need magical defenses, and our four wizard X-Men will be the ones to provide them!"

Xavier looked at the clock on the wall. "It's the middle of the night in the UK now. I'll wait until their morning before I contact Harry." He paused, then smiled slightly. "I've just reached out to locate him. He's at Grimmauld Place, in bed with Ginny. They're both a little drunk, and at a stage of activity where my interruption would be most unwelcome!"

Scott chuckled. "More power to them both! At least somebody's getting some fun! I'm on Comms watch later, so I can't see Fleur this weekend." He sighed melodramatically.

Xavier laughed softly. "Well, you should take the chance to recover your strength, son! I understand Fleur to be a demanding creature."

"Speaking of which -" Scott turned serious again. "- is it me, or is our White Queen a little in love with Remus?"

"More than a little," Xavier replied, "though she herself hasn't fully realised it yet. It won't be easy for her, Scott. If Remus does have feelings for her, and he well might, he'll fight them every inch of the way. He believes himself far too cursed ever to deserve or accept love, you know."

Scott snorted. "He's no more cursed than I am!" He indicated the heavy, ruby quartz visor he had to wear at all times. A brain injury in childhood had left him unable to control the powerful beams that blasted from his eyes, and without the visor, he would destroy anything he looked at. "I've found love twice, despite my problems. Remus worries too much. Either that, or he's making excuses!"

"Perhaps," said Xavier, "perhaps."

*****

Alicia Coverton was late, and a little nervous. The streets of New York were a good deal more safe than urban mythology made them, but it was late at night, and this was not one of the nicer neighborhoods. It was her own fault, she knew. The diner had been unusually busy tonight, and the clean up had taken longer than usual, so Marco had asked her to stay an extra hour. He was a good boss, and generous with overtime pay, but Alicia was beginning to wonder whether a few dollars extra was worth the worry. Marco had offered to walk her home, but it was three blocks out of his way, and he was no longer a young man, so Alicia had thanked him and said she'd be OK. She should have stuck to the lit streets, but that almost doubled her journey time.

In the end, though, it was not knife-wielding muggers, but something else that slithered out of the shadows and came for her. She couldn't tell how many there were, but they weren't any kind of human or animal she'd ever seen. They had oily, black hides, and moved with a slippery agility that disgusted her. Their faces were like a cross between a cat and a monkey, with glowing yellow eyes and slavering, fanged mouths. They tittered among themselves as they came towards her. Alicia ran, as best she could with legs tired and aching from a shift in the diner.

She soon realised it would do her no good. Even though she knew these alleys like the back of her hand, she found herself being herded. They were toying with her, forcing her to go where they wanted. As she ran, she thought of her Dad. He was fond of looking over his morning paper and protesting that, these days, you couldn't walk down the street in New York without tripping over one superhero or another. Where were all the costumed vigilantes now? Alicia wondered, just as she tripped and went down for what she was sure was the last time.

She shook her hair out of her eyes and found herself staring at a pair of highly polished, knee-high boots. She looked further up at the tall figure standing over her, but couldn't see much. He appeared to be clad in some kind of dark-red duster coat. His head was silhouetted against the night sky, and she couldn't make out his features. When he spoke, his voice was that of a young man, perhaps just out of his teens.

"Geez!" he commented, "The babes don't usually fall for me until the second date! Stay put, lady. Got a little business to take care of."

He pushed back the coat and drew out a pair of automatics. Alicia noticed that one was pure white, the other jet black. Then the alley was filled with the flash and roar of gunfire. Alicia twisted round to see one of her pursuers hanging in mid-air, twitching and jerking as bullets slammed into it, blue fluid spurting from its wounds. As it fell dead, her rescuer turned his fire on its companions.

After a while, Alicia noticed the oddity of what was happening. For one thing, the newcomer kept up a constant stream of fire without seeming to need to reload; for another, he should by now have been buried in a heap of ejected cartridge cases, but there were none. The bullets seemed to leave a faint trail of golden light in the air as they flew, and every shot seemed to find its mark unerringly; there were no ricochet whines to be heard over the thunder of the pistols. Finally, there was no stink of cordite; the fine, grey smoke that hung around them now smelled of churches, of incense. Then the firing stopped.

One creature was still standing. It was larger than the others, and its eyes held a gleam of feral intelligence. Instead of tittering, it uttered a deep-toned howl. The gunman chuckled grimly and asked, "So, you wanna get up close and personal, huh?"

He twirled the guns around like a Wild West gunfighter, and holstered them in a smooth motion. Then he leaped to one side, ran up and along the alley wall, and kicked off from it close to his opponent. As he leaped, he spun in mid-air, drawing a long sword that had been slung across his back, and came down in front of the creature, slashing down and across with a grunt. The thing was sliced in two, and fell in a mess of blue blood and stinking entrails.

"Too easy!" the young man said, then turned and walked over to Alicia, extending a gauntleted hand to help her up. "You better get home," he told her, "I hear this neighborhood can get rough sometimes."

His hair was white-blond, his features regular and handsome, but his eyes were pale, almost colorless. He nodded to her, and turned to leave.

Alicia at last found her voice. "Who are you? What's your name?"

"Dante." he replied without turning, and was gone.