Chapter Nine

Jean Summers paid the taxi driver and stood back as he drove away, hefting her purse over her shoulder and pulling up the handle to her wheeled overnight bag. Her talk had been quite well received at the medical conference, and she was looking forward to discussing several of the new theories put forward there with Hank, Charles, and Erik. The lecture involving the use of telepathy to assist coma patients had been particularly exciting...

A twig snapped to her left and Jean turned, dropping her bags and taking up a defensive posture.

Someone was there in the grounds, watching her... A psychic presence tingling just at the edges of her shields. She 'sensed' him, moving nearer, coming from the direction of Ororo's garden...

Jean's eyes widened and she straightened in surprise. There, ambling his leisurely way through the lush, green grass, was a sleek, black goat. The goat lifted his long face, regarding her through large, blasé eyes, then continued across the grounds.

Jean smiled, shaking her head at herself as she took up her bags once again and headed for the front door. All her years as an X-Man had made her a bit paranoid, it seemed. For a moment, she could have sworn she'd felt a man watching her from behind that old oak...

Scott opened the door a moment before Jean managed to dig her keys out of her purse, their shared telepathic bond having alerted him to her arrival.

"Welcome home!" he greeted warmly, opening his arms wide.

Jean stepped into them, bags and all, and squeezed him tightly.

"Mmm," she sighed against his neck. "It's good to be back."

"How was your trip?" Scott asked, pecking her on the cheek before letting her go. He took her free hand as they started down the hallway, the wheels of Jean's bag surprisingly loud as they bumped off the carpet onto the old, hardwood floor. "You were smiling when I opened the door, so I assume you had a good time."

"Since when do we have a goat?" she asked.

"A goat?" he repeated, bemused.

"Yes, a goat," Jean confirmed. "I saw one just now, wandering across the grounds."

"Well, it's not ours," Scott said. "At least, not as far as I know. Maybe it ran away from one of the farms down the road. Or, it could be some eccentric millionaire's escaped pet." He smirked at his own suggestion. "Hey, you never know."

Jean shrugged.

"Maybe. And, to answer your question, I had a wonderful time at the conference, thank you. What's for breakfast?"

Scott raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't you going to ask how things have been around here while you were gone?"

"I don't have to," Jean said, leading Scott into the kitchen and releasing his hand as she made a bee line for the refrigerator. "I can tell something big's been going on. But tell me later, after I've eaten something. They didn't have a meal service on the plane, and I just couldn't face fast food so early in the morning."

"I think breakfast is still going on in the dining hall if you don't mind eating with the students," Scott told her. "I can bring your stuff upstairs."

"Could you? I would really appreciate that, sweetie," Jean said and smiled, abandoning the refrigerator to grace her husband's lips with a kiss.

"Mmm," she sighed again, closing her eyes briefly. "It really is good to be home. I feel like I've been running on nothing but adrenaline for the past two days."

"Then you go get some breakfast," Scott said with a soft smile. "We can talk more once you've refueled. Here, let me take those for you."

He reached out a hand and Jean gave him her purse, her lips twitching slightly as he unselfconsciously slung the effeminate accessory over his broad shoulder.

"Thank you, Scott," she said sincerely.

"No problem," Scott assured her, grabbing the handle of her overnight bag. "Just meet me in the conference room when you're done eating, OK? There's a lot we need to talk about."


Most of the breakfast platters were empty by the time Jean made her way to the long buffet table at the side of the room. The eggs were gone, as was the French toast, but there was still enough bacon, pancakes, and cantaloupe left to make a decent meal. Jean quickly loaded her plate, adding a generous dollop of cottage cheese to the top of her melon slice, then she scanned the tables for a place to sit.

None of the other teachers were around, but most of the students preferred to sleep late on Saturdays, so the room was still pretty full. Spotting a half-empty table, Jean picked her way through the chattering, laughing crowds, smiling and nodding whenever one of the children called out her name in greeting.

"Hope you don't mind if I sit down," she said to her startled tablemates, already setting down her tray and pulling out a chair.

"No, it's OK, Dr. Summers," Paul Carter assured her, glancing over to Anna, who was flushing a pale shade of green. "Did you just get back?"

"Mm hmm..." Jean nodded, swallowing a large mouthful of pancake. "Just walked in the door five minutes ago. I hope you didn't miss me too much in class on Friday."

"Dr. McCoy showed us a video," Anna said politely. "About white blood cells and diseases and things. It was very interesting."

Jean glanced at her, a knowing gleam in her eye.

"I'm sure," she said, taking another bite of breakfast. "And you all completed that essay afterwards?"

Anna, Paul, and the two other students, Holly and Adam, nodded, emitting a few low mumbles.

Jean smirked behind her napkin. She planned to say more, but a spike of of frustration filtered through her lax shields, and she turned her head to find the source.

Anna was shooting Paul a significant glance, her orange eyes wide. Paul gave her a helpless look, his yellow, reptilian eyes darting over to indicate Jean, his expression one of warning.

Jean frowned suspiciously. These kids were hiding something - something potentially dangerous that her unexpected intrusion had obviously interrupted. Taking a sip of coffee, Jean composed her features, unwilling to let them know she was on to them quite yet.

"So, I hear there's been some excitement since I left," she prompted, apparently more interested in her cantaloupe than their responses.

Paul elbowed Adam, who gave a startled jump, then turned to Jean with a forced smile and a rehearsed line. But, Jean kept her mind on the nearly silent exchange taking place between Anna and Paul.

"See, she knows," Paul hissed to Anna, his voice so soft Jean had to drop her shields almost entirely to listen in. "I told you it was a bad idea."

"We were the ones who found him," Anna whispered back. "We have a right to know what's going on with him. We should at least be allowed to know the guy's name!"

"I know, but Professor Xavier warned us not to tell anybody what we saw. If he finds out we were planning to sneak down to see him, so soon after last night—"

"Paul, shut-up! She's looking at us!"

"She wouldn't read our thoughts...would she?"

Jean winced slightly, but she made sure her eyes were on Adam by the time Paul turned his head.

"So, all you know is that someone was hiding in the grounds last night," she said thoughtfully, repeating the line Adam had fed her as though she had been paying attention. "Well, that doesn't sound too serious to me."

"Yeah," Holly agreed. "It's probably nothing."

Jean smiled, rising from her chair and picking up her plate and mug.

"Well, it's been a pleasure, kids, but I have to go. See you in class."

"Bye, Dr. Summers," the teens chorused. They sounded friendly enough, but Jean felt their eyes following her all the way out of the dining hall.


Once in the corridor, Jean held a short debate with herself. Scott was no doubt waiting in the conference room to brief her on the situation, but Anna and Paul's clandestine conversation had piqued her curiosity. She felt an irrational, even childish impulse to go see the stranger first, to form her own opinions and judgments of the unknown man Anna and Paul had discovered before being influenced by anyone else's conclusions. Besides, if she was lucky, she might get a chance to try out some of the new, less-intrusive mental probing methods she had learned at the conference without having to go through all the trouble of running them by Charles first.

Jean shot a quick glance behind her to make sure the corridor was really empty, then strode directly for the elevator to the subbasement.


"Hello? Hank? Knock, knock!"

Jean poked her head around the door to Hank's office. A wooden sign reading 'Out To Lunch' greeted her, hanging over the back of his chair by a length of rough twine.

She turned away with a pointed smirk, quite aware how Hank reveled in that sign's double meaning. But, this was perfect. The fewer distractions she encountered down here, the less suspicious Scott would be when she arrived late to the conference room.

"This is very immature of you," Jean scolded herself, unable suppress a wicked little smile. "Bypassing all the proper channels, skulking around your own lab like a guilty student. What would Hank say if he came back and saw you like this?"

The cavernous medbay was silent except for the rhythmic beeps and hisses from the machines monitoring the stranger's vital signs. The unconscious man lay on his side in one of the three hospital beds, his back the door. A crisp, white sheet shielded him from her view - except for his hair, red enough to rival Jean's own fiery locks. Still, that color was hardly unusual in a world populated almost entirely by mutants.

Jean strode directly up to the stranger's bedside, reaching out a hand to adjust the sheet so she could get a clearer view of his face. A jolt of electricity stabbed at her fingertips, and she jumped back with a gasp.

"Yow! A forcefield!"

She frowned, shaking her tingling hand in annoyance.

"Who the heck is this guy to warrant such warm hospitality?"

Jean looked around, but saw no sign of the 'patient's' chart anywhere. Her suspicion growing, she stretched out her hand again - from a safe distance, this time - using her telekinesis to fold down the stranger's sheet.

The man shifted in his sleep, mumbling softly as he buried his face deeper into the pillow.

Jean scowled. She had to at least find out this man's name before she left to meet Scott.

A thought occurred to her, and she cocked an impish eyebrow. This could be her chance to try out some of those new tele-scanning techniques...

Jean took in a deep breath through her nose, relaxing her shoulders as she brought her mind into focus. Her telepathy was strong, but she was no Charles Xavier. Even a light scan required her full concentration, particularly if the mind she was scanning was that of a stranger. Finding out something as deeply ingrained as his name shouldn't be too hard, though.

Closing her eyes, Jean took a moment to recall the exact method Dr. Oesi had outlined at the conference, then stretched out with her mind, smoothly entering into the stranger's thoughts...

Jean furrowed her brow...this wasn't right... There was a strange kind of duality present here, almost as though she was reading two individuals rather than one...

Jean headed for the stronger of the two, shivering slightly as thoughts and memories she could barely sense brushed by her like so many ghosts...

The landscape that met her mind's eye was dark and barren, but somewhere in the near distance, a dim light glowed. Jean shifted direction to follow it, passing over craggy cliffs and lifeless plains. The air was stifling and stagnant, and the reek of brimstone grew stronger the farther in she traveled.

The light was closer now. Jean slowed her progress, suddenly cautious as she saw something moving in the flickering light, a shadow, obscuring the sharp rock formations that littered the parched, cracked ground—

"Stop!"

Jean spun around, her green eyes widening in terror. A tall, russet-skinned man was storming straight to her, his horns reflecting the flickering light, his blood-red cloak billowing behind him, making him seem even larger, more shadowed. The nightmarish image left Jean frozen, as helpless as a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, unable to speak, to scream, to breathe...

"Go away! Get out of here, now!" the menacing demon shouted, his intense, yellow eyes glowing furiously in the dimness.

"You idiot!" he roared. "You arrogant little—!"

He cut himself off, clenching his fist in a terrified desperation too strong to be expressed in words. He ground his teeth, fixing her with a glare sharp enough to cut through stone.

"Don't you realize the danger? Don't you know where you are!" he cried. "Get out now, while you still can!"

Jean backed slowly away from the livid demon, her eyes nearly round, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

She knew where she was, now. She knew the reason for that forcefield. She had entered the mind of a demon, and now Belasco himself towered over her.

The demon's face contorted with frustration. Before she could react, he reached out with his one, powerful hand and grabbed her upper arm, violently wrenching her after him. Jean cried out in pain, but the demon ignored her. He was running now, his spaded tail beating at his cloak as it billowed out behind him. Jean followed as best she could, stumbling over the uneven ground as she struggled to free her arm from his vice-like grip.

"Let me go!" she gasped, twisting her body and clawing at his fingers with her free hand. "Let go of me!"

The demon stopped in his tracks, his eyes glowing with deadly anger as he lifted her off her feet and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"I have worked too hard to regain control to have you ruin it all now through your ignorant stupidity!" he growled, holding her securely as he resumed his desperate sprint. "What was Charles thinking, sending you in here? I warned him, I told him..."

He snorted, bearing his sharp teeth.

"I should have known better than to trust that old fool. He always thinks he knows better than anyone else. He knows nothing! Listen to me," he barked harshly. "I will take you to safety, but then you must leave, understand!"

The reality of her situation was slowly beginning to penetrate through the blinding terror that had gripped her before. Belasco had her trapped, carrying her away to God only knew where at an alarming pace. She had to escape, and quickly, before he reached his destination...

The demon's long tail lashed below her, just out of reach. Concerting her movements with the jarring rhythm of his steps, Jean reached down and grabbed the sinewy appendage, twisting it as hard as she could.

The demon howled in startled pain, dropping her as he arched his back, reaching for his throbbing tail with his red, three-fingered hand.

Jean grinned in triumph, jumping to her feet and racing back the way they had come. She had to find someplace to hide. She needed to compose her mind again, to find her focus if she was to escape.

There! A cave!

Jean raced into the darkness, sliding down into a gasping crouch against the cold, damp rock wall. She had ended up much farther in than she had ever intended to go. It would take a great deal of effort to get herself out and back into her own body, and she had to do it fast, before Belasco found her—

"Jean Grey," a deep voice rumbled from the darkness, smooth and smug and oozing with curdled charm.

Jean's head shot up in alarm, her heart pounding harder than before.

"Or should I say Jean Summers?" the voice went on in a musing tone. "You did actually marry that spectacled stiff, didn't you?" He chuckled. "Well, there's no accounting for taste, I suppose. I must say, you are certainly looking your age this morning, my dear."

Jean glared, even though she couldn't see the man who was mocking her. But, that voice...

Her eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth as she began to realize... The strange duality she had sensed, the fear she had seen flickering behind her kidnapper's angry eyes—

"Oh, God," she gasped. "He only had three fingers..."

The smug voice broke into cold laughter, a cruel cackle in the darkness.

"Feeling a bit foolish now, are you? And so you should. For, my aging beauty..."

Jean gave an alarmed cry as bright, flickering light flooded the cave - the same light she'd seen when she first arrived. Looking up, she saw an imposing, red-skinned demon sitting tall and confident in an enormous throne carved high into the craggy rockface at the back of the cave. A deep fire pit opened around her in a smoky, flickering half-circle, the incredible heat backing her against the wall, the stench of brimstone nearly suffocating.

"...you have run from your savior's arm, only to fall directly into my trap," the demon finished with a broad, toothy grin.

"NEIN!" a familiar voice cried out from beyond the flames. "Jean!"

"Ah, if it isn't my old friend: Kurt Wagner!" Belasco said, turning his smile on his horrified double. "How's the tail? I saw how she twisted it." He gave a mock wince, his glowing eyes twinkling with dark amusement. "That must have hurt."

"Let her go, Belasco!"

Belasco gave a pointed yawn, rolling his golden eyes.

"Out of my sight, little freak," he said with a dismissive wave of his five-fingered hand. "This clichéd posturing of yours bores me. This is my realm, and you have no power here. But, if you keep quiet, I just might let you watch while I make your X-Freak friends pay for the pain they have inflicted on my body."

"It's not your body!" Kurt retorted angrily, his tail lashing like a whip as he clenched his three-fingered fist. "And the X-Men have nothing to do with whatever has been happening. My hand had been aching long before I went back to the mansion, and you know it."

"Irrelevant!" Belasco growled. "I will not be anyone's prisoner. And you will not stand in my way."

Belasco made a fierce gesture with his hand, and suddenly Kurt stood next to Jean, trapped in place by a wall of fire and smoke. Kurt glared through the flames, snarling dangerously as Belasco once again burst into laughter.

"I know you think you have me trapped," Kurt snapped, "but don't forget that this is my mind too, Belasco. This may be your 'realm'," he snorted at the word, "and from what I've seen so far, you're welcome to it. But, Jean and I won't be staying for the show."

Kurt grabbed Jean's hand and dove straight into the rock wall. Jean barely had time to scream before a wave of roaring blankness enveloped them both...

To Be Continued...


Next time on Belasco's Beatrice: A peek into Belasco's mysterious past! Stay tuned! :)