Welcome to the Brotherhood Chapter 2

By Cadet Deming

I don't own the rights to the X-Men, Marvel and Fox Studios do so please don't sue. I work in litigation so you wouldn't want to anyhow. Magneto/Emma, but I'm trying to include more of the post First-Class Brotherhood. Thank you so much to the reviewers who encouraged me to continue with this. Rated T.

Most rooms look alive during the day and unnatural at night. An office filled with hustle and bustle in daylight hours felt eerie after dark. A living room that seemed so homey in the morning often took on a sinister edge near midnight.

Nightclubs were the opposite. The same spaces filled to the edge with dancers, strobe lights, rhythmic music, and the smells of liquor, sweat and sex at Four in the morning looked like graveyards during the day. Dance floors looked smaller when empty.

The Hellfire main club room was no exception. When Emma entered it felt dark and claustrophobically tight. Only four other mutants gathered on chairs in front of the DJ booth. They sat divided by gender lines, or previous group membership, depending on how she wanted to categorize them.

To the left Emma's was Hellfire comrade Azazel. She could see his long red tail swishing back and forth like a cat's. It would have looked comical if she hadn't seen him use it to strangle or impale the eyes of so many victims.

Her other ally Riptide sat next to him. He turned to her when she walked in, but didn't speak. Riptide didn't say much about anything.He didn't think much about anything either.

On the other side perched the two new female recruits from the pro-humanity mutant group. Angel Salvadore rested closest to the original Hellfire group. She had been the fastest to switch sides from the CIA to Hellfire. Possibly too fast. Emma questioned if Angel was a true believer, or an opportunist with no true loyalty. She intended to keep a mind read on her.

The teenager that Erik had brought with him, known as Mystique, curled up on her seat to the farthest right. She sat awkwardly, like she hadn't gotten used to the feel of her own skin. Her own blue, reptilian, scaly skin. Mystique's golden almond eyes narrowed at Emma's approach for a moment.

Mystique then returned to staring up at Erik, who was balanced on the edge of the DJ booth like a king on a throne. He was wearing the helmet.

Mystique gawked at him like an infatuated stalker. Emma skimmed her mind and picked up on the mixture of obsession, hormones, and hero-worship that she felt when she was the younger mutant's age. A human schoolgirl with a crush could be harmless enough. An outlaw mutant in the same state could be dangerous. Emma resolved to keep a mind read, two ears, and two eyes on this one.

Erik greeted her: "Welcome Emma. Now we can start the first ever meeting of the Brotherhood of Mutants."

Emma debated which side of the room she should sit on: her old Hellfire co-workers, or the new women? She picked a seat next to Azazel and started twirling her finger through a lock of her platinum blonde hair.

"The first order of business," Erik said, using a speechifying tone. "Is old business."

Angel interrupted him: "Hold up. Wait a second. How can we have old business when this is our first meeting?"

"Because it's my old business. And my business is your business now. As I was saying, the first matter of old business is killing Nazis. Plenty of Nazis."

Angel asked: "Isn't World War II, like, over now. Didn't America win against the German Nazis?"

Erik tightened his knuckles against the edge of the booth. "There are still plenty left. Many war criminals escaped to Argentina and Brazil. And I suspect California. The humans out there are so…blonde. It is not natural."

Everyone turned and looked at Emma. She dropped her hand from her hair. "What? My people are Nordic. This is my real hair color."

Angel asked: "If we're killing people we're pissed off at, can we kill my ex-boyfriend Alonzo Wilfredo Aguirre-Diaz? The prick still owes me twenty bucks."

Mystique asked her with horror in her voice: "You would kill someone over twenty bucks?"

Azazel said: "I kill people over nothing. I do not see what the fuss is about."

Emma muttered: "I believe she would do far worse for less."

Angel glared at her. "What did you say about me Blondie?"

"Did I speak that out loud? My mistake," Emma said.

Eric bellowed: "Will all of you be quiet! Children! My followers are children!"

He jumped down. The metal in the exposed rafters and track lighting creaked and moved.

Angel stammered: "I'm sorry man…I'm over 21. Really."

Emma said: "She's lying. About being over 21, not about being sorry."

"How the hell do you know?" Angel asked.

Emma pointed to her own forehead. "Telepath, remember? And we should all be more reverential to Magneto."

"Yes. Reverential. I like that," he said.

"I'm reverential," Mystique said.

Emma could sense her yearning for Erik's approval. She reeked of it.

Erik walked over to the blue girl. He cradled her chin in his hand.

"Tell me Mystique. Are you reverential of human life? Does the thought of shedding a homo sapien's blood for money bother you?"

"I…yes. I mean, no. I mean…I don't know," she stammered.

Emma could hear the confusion and conflicting emotions in Mystique's mind: her excitement about being the center of his attention for the moment, desperation for his acceptance, guilt, and insecurity. She almost felt sorry for her.

"If you're going to follow me, understand this: human life doesn't matter. None of them matter anymore. The only blood that matters is mutant blood. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Whatever you say," she said.

He took his hand away. "Good girl."

Mystique clutched at her chin where he had touched her as he leapt back on to his makeshift throne.

Azazel whispered in Emma's ear: "I think I'm starting to like this guy."

To be continued.