Title: Power Behind the Throne Part 7

Author: Ethiercn

Rating: MA

Disclaimer: Marvel owns them, and I'm making not profit.

This couldn't be her, Angel thought as she studied her reflection in the mirror. The dark leather highlighted her red hair and her blue eyes. The corset pushed her breasts up and left her mid-section bare. The pants, though more modest than the bikini bottoms, hugged her curves and lent very little to the imagination. Even her spandex costume didn't feel quite as revealing; it was functional, not sexual.

Not like this outfit at all.

Next to her, Rachel took a step back and nodded in satisfaction at the intricate hairstyle, a mixture of braids and loose hair held in place by jeweled combs. "There," the older woman said, sounding like she walked off the set of Nana's Upstairs, Downstairs. "It'll do the master proud." She adjusted a comb slightly.

Angel said nothing. Despite wishing she had more of Nita's self confidence, Angel never fully understood why her friend insisted upon wearing a swimsuit when the Warriors didn't do that much fighting in water. Of course, Nita had the figure to pull of the style.

But this reflection staring back at her, it couldn't be her, Angel thought. Nita was the sexy one, not her. Not that she had ever felt ugly, just never as attractive or as sexual as Nita and always somehow in the other woman's shadow. And yet, dressed like this, Angel felt sexy, attractive, like she could give Nita a run for her money. Was this quasi-powerful feeling the reason why her friend wore the swimsuit?

"You should go," Rachel said, holding up the black fur lined cape. "Master Shaw doesn't like being kept waiting.

Shaw greeted Angel with a grunt. He said nothing but gave her the briefest of looks before gesturing for her to follow him. As they left the house, Angel drew the cloak more tightly around her. Ahead, she could see Thomas, dressed in a suit and looking as suave as a Sean Connery James Bond, standing by the limo and giving orders to two guardsmen. She hoped that one of them was Vance.

With a grin, Thomas held open the door to the limo. "Very nice, I must admit."

Angel said nothing as she slid into the car, sliding as far away from Shaw as she could. Once Thomas took his seat in the front of the car, they were off with the two guardsmen in the SUV behind.

For the course of the entire trip, Angel stared at the window, trying to figure out where exactly the mansion was located. She felt Thomas' bemused on her eyes, but neither man said anything or made any move to stop her It was the quietest road trip she had ever been on, even Dad would sing along to the radio every now and then. Shoot, even Dad turned on the radio.

Over an hour outside Denver, she thought as they entered the city. Finally they pulled up to a high class hotel. No doubt, Angel thought, one of those hotels with such an exclusive cliental that advertising constituted the greatest insult. Shaw finally looked at her. "Stay close to myself or Thomas, tonight." He studied her for a minute more and then exited the car. As she reached the door of the car, a guardsman offered his hand to help her out of the car. As she took it, he gave her hand a slight squeeze. Vance, she thought, relaxing a little and giving his hand a slight squeeze in return.

The small group entered the hotel and made their way quickly though the lobby. Staff scurried to Shaw asking him if he was going to spend the night, offering the best suites, telling him that Sir Francis and Lindon had arrived. "Should your lady need anything," the concierge said. "Just let us know." Shaw accepted it as his due, nodding or answering in the negative. He pressed a large bill into the concierge's hand when they reached the private elevator.

A short ride later the doors to the elevator opened. The large room housed too few people, it seemed to her after a few seconds, and mostly men, mostly old men Angel amended quickly, dressed like they had walked out of one those old Vincent Price movies, where Price played the lecherous old count or whatever. She could make out a few women, a very few, and all dressed like Frost. One woman was dressed all in black and seemed a bit tipsy as she tried to dance in time to the music. Even Angel hadn't wobbled in her heels quite like that.

Shaw noticed her gaze, "The Black Queen, like Emma was the White." Seeing her start, he added, "But the new Black Queen, not Selene whom Frost would've had you kill. Selene has had problems with the X-Men. I'll feel sorry for Beatrice should Selene return, despite the fact that she helped my son." Shaw nodded at Thomas who removed the clock from Angel's shoulders. "Come," Shaw said offering her his arm. She took it gingerly.

They made their way into the room. Angel felt every eye on them. "Look," one man whispered to another. "Shaw. He's not dead."

"Who's that with him?"

"Thomas Chase."

"I know that you drunken fool," the man hiccupped himself. "I meant the girl? A prostitute?"

Smack. "His daughter, you fool."

"He has a daughter? Well, at least she got all the looks."

Smack.

"Would you stop hitting me?"

"It's for your own good. She's a mutant, almost killed Frost. Try anything and you won't have to worry about Shaw killing you."

"So you're saying I should get her flowers first?"

"Idiots," Shaw murmured, picking a flute of champagne and handing it to her before taking one for him. They had stopped at the buffet, if food that rich could be called a buffet. "But at least, our display is working." He piled some food on a plate. "This is mostly an informal party. Old timers and their children, or heirs. Like the fool." He nodded in approval at her still filled glass. "Good. Shinobi always drank too much at these things. I need you aware."

"Aware for what?" she asked though her dry mouth.

"For anything," Shaw turned his attention to two men who sat at a nearby table. "Come. Just keep doing what you're doing, and tomorrow you may see your father twice."

Strange, Shaw seemed in such a good mood. He was almost loathsome instead of detestable, Angel thought.

"Sebastian," one of the men said as they approached the table. "I'm glad to see you are still alive. There were all these unpleasant rumors about patricide."

"Rumors, Lindon, only that," Shaw slipped his drink.

"Due to the Upstarts," the second man, fatter wider, added. "Silly fool, think they have us beat. Already taking each other down so I hear." He turned a lecherous eye on Angel. "And who is this vision? Emma's replacement? Or your rumored daughter?"

"My daughter, Angelica," Shaw replied. "Far more powerful and obedient than my son."

"Emma's Angelica?" the lecher raised an eyebrow. "You have made a major coup. " He turned to Angel, "I'm Francis, my dear," he took her hand and pressed it to his lips. A gesture that would have been far courtlier if he hadn't been staring at her bosom the whole time. "Should you need anything . . . "

"She's not for the likes of you," Shaw interjected drawing Francis' attention for the briefest of moments before the man shrugged. "She's my daughter; not your toy."

"As you say," Francis said. "But you've lost the most power; you'll have to do the most to regain it."

A challenge.

"Have I?" Shaw countered. "Then it's good that I have already set the wheels in motion."

"A plan" Lindon smiled. "And your son?"

"Has already lost the power he so briefly held." Shaw put his glass down on the table and took the empty seat. "Angelica, why don't you and Thomas enjoy the music?"

Thomas took hold of her elbow and gently led her away. "Master Shaw's conversation is for him at this point." He pulled her on to the dance floor. "Our job," he whispered, sliding one arm around her waist and pulling her uncomfortably close, "Is to show a united front. Now," he continued as they moved to the music. "Isn't this nice?"

"No," she whispered, trying not to appear too tense as his hand moved lower on her back.

He chuckled and then leaned closer, looking as if he were to nuzzle her neck. "We must look like the happy couple." He kissed her neck. She felt a sudden urge to bolt. "Just pretend I'm Justice unless you've forgotten him already "

"Why are you such a . . ." she paused searching for the correct word.

"I believe the word you want is prick," he pulled her closer. "The death of my brother?" he offered.

"Frost did that. Why would you even work for . . ." Angel began angrily.

"You made him weak," he interrupted her. "Frost's special pupil. Randall knew better. Attractive toy that you are, Randall knew better and paid the price for forgetting that."

Her eyes widen in disbelief, "You." she started.

The sudden pressure of his lips against hers made her want to gag. Her nails dug into his hand. She wanted to bite him, but he took his time, as if he were trying to taste her. The only good thing she could say was that he had brushed his teeth.

Finally, it ended. "But the real reason is I'm just a prick," he concluded and dipped her.

From his station at the door, Vance saw Thomas kiss Angel, saw her back stiffen, the curling of her hands, and felt the urge to toss Thomas though the window. He settled for asking Phillip, the other guardsman a question. "Thomas can do that?"

Phillip looked away from the succulent food. "I guess so. Chase always gets the breaks. First the White Queen took an interest in him, and then Shaw. Doesn't seem fair, does it, that he gets the nice piece of tail."

"Frost?" Vance asked as Angel disentangled herself from Thomas.

"Before your time. One very black, widowish woman," Phillip studied the tipsy Beatrice. "Not the same really without her around."

Then the lights went out.

A shot fired.

A woman screamed.

Firestar's light quickly shone of the blackness, illuminating much of the room. Vance blinked, allowing his eyes to adjust and then quickly took stock. Angel was okay. Thomas, damm him, was okay. What was happening?

There, eight armed men, dressed in dark and light blues heading for Shaw. A sound of struggle. A man holding a gun on Shaw.

Don't use your power, he thought and finished with, don't let Shaw die. Don't use your power obviously, he amended as Firestar's blast streaked by and took out the gun pointed at Shaw.

Vance barreled into the closest attacker, discreetly using his telekinesis to add more force to his punches. Firestar's blast took out a man behind him, while he used a small amount of telekinesis to cause the man behind her to slip and fall onto to Thomas who struggled against another attacker.

"Shaw!" Vance shouted up at Firestar. She nodded and trusting him to guard her back, turned all her firepower to the men who were trying to surround Shaw and Lindon. Her blasts forced the attackers back while Vance used his telekinesis to jam and the guns of those close to him. Firestar's blasts hit the floor nearby, causing the men to jump back. Slowly, Firestar forced the man to gather into a type little group.

"Keep them contained while we disarm them," Thomas order, shoving his opponent in with the others. He began checking the man for all weapons, finally ripping off the ski mask.

"Who sent you?" Shaw demanded as he circled around the table he had used for a shield. He stepped over Francis' still and blood soaked form.

The man looked at a Shaw with a blank expression and then crumbled to the ground. The rest of the attackers followed suit a second later.

"What happened?" Angel asked.

"Controlled," Shaw spat out. "Most likely by the Gamesmaster."

Vance bent over one man, his eye caught by a glint.

"Thomas," Shaw ordered. "Search them, and then let Lindon's men have them."

"What are you going to do with them?" Angel asked. "If they're controlled, it's not their fault."

"Their fate is nothing you need to worry," Shaw said in a tone that brooked no disagreement. "Good work tonight," he added, the praise sounding strange from his lips. "We'll leave soon." He then went to confer with Lindon.

There was a small cough. Angel turned and looked down. Vance knelt by one of the attack and nodded down slightly with his head, directing her to look at the man's wrist. Angel looked. Around the man's wrist hung a small good bracelet, a control bracelet. If it was the Gamesmaster, Angel thought, he had access to Frost's toys.