Hot Dames and Hot Lead

by alcimines

Set in a noir-ish 1930s alternative universe. Logan and Lehnsherr run the biggest gangs in town. Domino is a hard-boiled private eye. Rogue is her secretary and lover. And the client is the mysterious and beautiful Emma Frost. Surely such a lovely woman couldn't be full of lies? Right? This is actually a series of self-contained stories.

9. The Case of the Lady in White

THE CASE OF THE LADY IN WHITE

My name is Emma Frost and I am like nobody you have ever met - or ever will.

That's not a boast. I know the human race, its intricacies and flaws, better than almost anyone else on this earth. However, that kind of knowledge comes at a price. It makes me an outsider, a person looking in on a world from which I have become irretrievably separated.

You see, I can gaze into the minds of others. And that is a terrible thing. Sometimes, I wish I were as blind as everyone else.

---

"Where's Domino?" I asked. Perhaps my tone was preemptory. I'm often like that. The constant petty deception and foolishness of others makes me impatient.

I was standing in the doorway of Domino's office. Domino wasn't at her desk and a neat pile of paperwork was stacked on her blotter. Since Domino's desk is usually more chaotic, that was suggestive.

Domino's secretary - a young Afghani woman named Sooraya Qadir - wouldn't meet my eyes.

In her mind, I "heard" a joyful flicker of raw and unsophisticated music, heavy on percussion instruments and simple horns. It was something from the mountains of Sooraya's homeland. It was a happy memory that is an anchor-point for Sooraya's psyche, and she instinctively clings to it whenever she's frightened. That and the memory of the first time she gazed into the face of her new-born son. But - as always - lurking in the background of her mind was the darkness of the Egyptian. Sooraya didn't really believe that he was gone. After all, how could Shaitan truly ever die?

"Miss Domino is out of town, oh gracious lady," Sooraya replied softly, her eyes still properly cast downwards and her hands folded carefully on the desk before her.

I rather liked the title she was granting me. 'Gracious lady' has a certain flair. Sooraya fears me and becomes very polite and formal when I'm around. In other circumstances - in another place and time - she would have unhesitatingly knelt whenever I entered the room.

I like that as well.

Sooraya would make a good personal servant, especially if I could seduce her away from her dreary attachment to heterosexuality. However, Sooraya was untouchable. The damage that the Egyptian had inflicted on her was simply too great. She would need years to heal - and would probably never completely recover. Being exposed to my lifestyle and desires would definitely not help.

Meanwhile, Sooraya's baby boy was energetically crawling around the floor - an unprofessional scene that Domino really shouldn't allow in her office. He awkwardly sat up on his well-padded bottom and gazed up at me, his wide, deep, eyes seemingly fascinated.

Like all children his age, Hassim had an elemental focus on the things that mattered to him. Things like food, warmth, sleep, and mother. That and an insatiable desire to explore and soak up information about the world around him. He was actually quite intelligent.

I did the psychic equivalent of ruffling Hassim's hair. He giggled at me.

Hassim saw me as a tall figure dressed entirely in white. From his point of view, I was almost angelic.

Oh, well, later in life he'd have the opportunity to know me better.

On the far side of the office was another desk. It was newer and bit smaller than Domino's. And sitting behind it, giving me her typically insouciant look, was a woman about whom I simply cannot make up my mind.

Marie is Domino's partner and lover. Like Domino and I - and Sooraya for that matter - she was a person with special powers. We were the sort of person that Dr. Xavier would call a "mutant". Marie had the ability to steal or share a person's memories, skills, and powers simply by touching them.

I met Marie's eyes - challenging her to respond. The streak of white in her hair that any other woman would have considered a catastrophe seemed to glow in the morning light pouring through a nearby window. On Marie, it was actually quite striking.

Marie let the moment drag on for a few seconds before answering.

"Dom's in Boston," Marie finally said, her eyes still locked with mine. "We have a client there."

Damn. I let out a long, frustrated, breath.

Then Marie looked at Sooraya. "Sooraya, why don't you take Hassim for a walk?"

Sooraya looked relieved as she quickly snatched up her baby boy, wrapped him in a colorful blanket, and then fled the room. Hassim made a disapproving noise as they left, but he didn't begin to cry. I've noticed that he doesn't cry very often.

"Emma, quit scaring the help," Marie told me quietly, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

I gave Marie a withering look. She didn't react to it at all.

"All I did was ask a question," I pointed out.

Marie nodded. "And like a lot of what you do, that comes across as scary."

Marie was steel clad in silk - the South creates quite a few women like that. They're adherents to an older and more traditional kind of womanhood, but it is most unwise to underestimate them. Much of what she is revolves around two things: her love for Domino and her fear of herself. Marie used to have very little control over her ability to drain the life and thoughts from others. Long ago, when she was just a girl, Marie killed a man by accident. That memory haunts her and is never far from her thoughts. She tries to bury it when she's around me.

"What do you want, Emma?" Marie asked.

I looked at Marie thoughtfully. "I need help."

Marie inquiringly cocked her head at me, but didn't say anything.

"There's somebody in town who might be a threat to Jean," I added. "I need someone to bodyguard her while I deal with the problem."

It's not fair to say that Marie dislikes me. She's just extremely suspicious of me. On the other hand, her relationship with Jean was delicately poised between friendship and love. There was very little that Marie wouldn't do for Jean.

Marie reached for her purse. Opening it, she pulled out a hefty revolver - something you might expect to see in the gun-belt of a movie cowboy. She opened the cylinder, checked the load, closed the cylinder, and put it back in her purse. Then she scribbled a quick note and propped it up in the center of her desk.

"Let's go," Marie said, getting to her feet. Unlike Dom, she dresses like a woman. As is usually the case, she was wearing a dress that could best be described as inexpensive, yet tasteful and attractive. Her high heels were from Sears. Her simple jewelry was paste and glass, but she has a talent for making something like that look elegant and expensive.

I pay more for a manicure than the totality of what Marie usually wears. A session with my beautician probably cost more than her entire closet.

It irritates me that she can make so little look so good, with so little effort.

---

"Want to give me the details?" Marie asked. We were in the back of my limousine, on the way back to my apartment. Her purse was in her lap. I noticed that its clasp was undone. She was making sure she could get to her firearm as quickly as possible.

I took a moment to try and collect my thoughts.

"There is a doctor," I began slowly. "He is interested in our kind. I have reason to believe that his practices go well beyond the accepted boundaries of medical ethics. In fact, he is quite dangerous. He is currently pursuing a course of inquiry that might eventually lead him to Jean. I can stop that, but first I need to be sure that Jean is safe."

"The best bet might be for her to leave town until you sort things out," Marie pointed out.

I nodded in agreement, "Yes. I'm thinking you and Jean might enjoy a trip together. Perhaps a week in New York? You can see the sights, do some shopping, and enjoy the restaurants and nightlife. I'll foot the bill, of course."

Marie hesitated. "I'll need to stop off at my apartment and pack..."

"I'd rather you leave as soon as possible," I interrupted. "Feel free to purchase whatever you need in New York and charge it as an expense."

There was a flicker of resentment from Marie. Like many others, she thinks I have a tendency to buy my way out of problems. They're right, of course, but I really don't care. What is money for, other than to make life easier?

"Okay," Marie said shortly. My offer made too much sense. Both she and Domino are very practical when it comes to the interests of their clients. Their old-fashioned sense of duty can sometimes make them difficult to deal with, but it can also make them rather easy to manipulate.

Then Marie suddenly frowned. "Does Jean know about this yet?"

I shook my head. "No."

Then I paused before continuing, "Actually, Domino's absence might help. Jean is likely to find a trip alone with you a more attractive prospect."

Marie didn't respond at first.

The... event... with Stacey was on both of our minds. Dom, Jean, and Marie fell under Stacey's chemical trigger of lust and desire. They crashed into my apartment, laughing and disheveled and very focused on me. Dom - her eyes hot and wild, and with a predator's hungry grin on her face - picked me up, threw me onto the couch, and locked her lips against mine. I yielded instantly to her. I'd wanted that for so long.

Meanwhile, Jean busied herself stripping me naked.

It was Marie who actually spoke to me.

"You've always wanted this, sugar. Now you've got it," she whispered in my ear. Throughout the rest of the night, Marie was the one who didn't hesitate to hurt me.

"Are you okay with me and Jean being out-of-town together?" Marie asked carefully. It was no secret how close Jean and Marie had become. That evening in my apartment, they spent a great deal of time graphically proving just how interested they were in each other.

"I'm not given to common jealousy," I snapped. "Keep Jean safe. Other than that, for all I care you can spend the entire week in bed."

It was only after the words came out of my mouth that I realized they really weren't true.

I cared about Jean. I cared deeply. And just how had that happened? I took up with Jean Grey for practical and important reasons. And Jean - younger and far less experienced than myself - needed someone who understood the problems of being a psychic and could help her deal with them.

To let Jean develop her powers on her own would have catastrophic consequences. Catastrophic beyond measure.

So our time together was never about love. However, when two psychics live together, they inevitably become close in a way that is more intimate than anything that mere sex can provide. Paradoxically, I'd thought that Jean and I were too close to ever really be in love. I'd assumed that sex between us was more like a vastly improved form of masturbation. It was just a way for the two of us to let off tension in an environment in which we were intimately familiar with each other's desires.

But that wasn't entirely true. It was then and there that I realized that I actually loved Jean.

"Are you sure about that?" Marie asked.

Damn her, Marie must have seen something on my face.

Then I did what I do. I took control.

Smiling maliciously at Marie, I asked, "Dom tries so hard to be loyal to you, Marie. Tell me, can you do the same for her?"

Marie didn't reply, but I didn't need to be a world-class psychic to tell what she was thinking. If what we were doing hadn't been about Jean, she probably would have forced me to stop the car and then left me.

---

Jean wasn't at the apartment.

I tried to contact her psychically, but she didn't answer.

That was bad.

With my heart in my mouth, I began making phone-calls. Meanwhile, Marie checked with the doorman.

"Nobody knows where Jean is," I said once Marie returned. I could hear the nervousness in my voice.

Marie nodded. "The guy downstairs says Jean met a man and left with him. He introduced himself as Dr. Nathaniel Essex. A little after noon, Essex walked into the lobby and asked the doorman to call Jean and let her know he was here. She came down immediately and left with him voluntarily. He's about six foot tall, medium build, maybe fifty years old, black hair with some gray at the temples, talks with an upper-class New York accent, and was dressed formally."

I fought down a surge of panic. "Essex is the doctor I was telling you about."

Marie frowned. Then she walked over to the table with the telephone. A pad and pencil was next to the phone. Marie began rubbing the pencil against the pad.

"That actually works?" I asked dubiously.

"It's a gag in the movies because it's true," Marie said distractedly. Then she handed me the pad.

It read: "Dr. N. Essex from Harvard Medical. 12:15 in the lobby. Lunch."

"Could this be legitimate?" Marie asked me intently. "Just a college girl talking to a professor? After all, Jean's pretty serious about becoming a doctor."

I think she wanted that to be true.

"No," I said flatly. "Essex is dangerous."

---

The doorman was named Larry. He was a former boxer who worked the day shift at our building as the doorman. That was pretty much all I knew about him.

Larry's mind was sluggish, the consequence of repeated concussions during his boxing career. He was sadly aware that he was not the man he once was. Otherwise, he was an honest and forthright soul.

It was no time to be gentle. I plundered Larry's mind and left him sitting behind his desk, dazed and confused. His eyes were unfocused and his mouth hanging open. Drool began accumulating on his chin.

That left me with a very good mental image of what Dr. Essex looked like. That was far better than any description. I also now knew Larry's sexual fantasies that involved Jean and I. They were unimaginative, but impressively athletic.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Marie demanded in a worried tone as she stared at Larry.

"Yes," I said distractedly. Actually, there was some possibility of a phobia or some other such minor disorder, but I wasn't interested in explaining that to Marie. And besides, I'd left a detailed memory involving Jean and I and a bottle of champagne in the back of my limousine. He would think it was just a fantasy, but it would provide Larry with entertainment for years to come. It struck me as reasonable recompense for what I had done.

Marie stopped me forcibly at the lobby door. In fact, she yanked me away from the door so hard that I almost fell.

"What?" I asked angrily.

"From now on, I go through doors first," she said, before doing just that.

Oh.

I understood.

I was her client now.

---

Out on the sidewalk, I buttoned up my coat. It was fall, and temperatures were varying wildly. That morning, it had been warm, but a front was rolling in and it was becoming steadily windier and cooler.

"Okay, this is maybe a long shot," Marie said to me, "but if Jean were to meet somebody from out of town and she wanted to impress them, where would she suggest they go to lunch?"

"The Green Goblin," I answered immediately. "It's just down the block, at the corner of 10th and Parker Place. Jean loves the food."

Marie nodded and hooked her left arm in mine.

"Just pretend we're a pair of snooty, rich, dames out on a date," Marie said as she scanned the crowd on the sidewalk.

"I am a snooty, rich, dame," I replied acidly as we began strolling down the street.

"Then it won't be hard for you," Marie replied with a shrug. I noticed that she was making a show of examining the shop windows as we passed. Then I realized that she was actually using them to examine the people around us without appearing to do so.

That was a clever trick. Of course, I simply use my psychic talents for something like that.

For a moment, I gazed at our reflection in the nearest shop window. Marie was a distorted form clad in green, with splashes of black and gold. I was a blur of white.

---

When we got to the restaurant, Marie became definitely tiresome.

"Look, don't wander through anyone's mind," she said just before we entered. "I'll ask questions. Your job is to check and see if they're lying."

"Are you giving me orders?" I asked tightly.

"Damn right," Marie shot back without hesitation. "Dom, Jean, and I have come up with a system. It works. And it doesn't leave behind a trail of people so loopy they can't even tie their shoes. Aside from the moral question, that's like sending up a flare that someone with powers is in the area and up to something. So we don't cut loose unless we have to. I'll let you know when it's necessary."

I hated to admit it, but that made sense.

"Hello!" Marie said brightly to the Maitre 'de. "We're supposed to meet a Dr. Essex and a Miss Grey."

The Maitre 'de frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry, mademoiselle, but they've already left. You missed them by about a half-hour."

The Maitre 'de was a closeted homosexual. His French accent was part of an assumed persona - the cruelty of what he had endured as a boy and young man had driven him to abandon his past and rebuild his identity.

"Did they say where they were going?" Marie asked.

"No, mademoiselle. I'm sorry," the Maitre 'de replied regretfully.

Marie looked at me and nodded.

I stalked past her and the Maitre 'de and into the dining room. The Maitre 'de followed me, whining protests. When he finally recognized me, he went pale, fell silent, and backed away.

"Be careful," I heard Marie say from somewhere behind me.

The hell with that. I glared around me at the room full of people.

Everyone in the dining room - guests and staff - froze in the middle of whatever they were doing as I began rummaging through their recent memories.

---

Jean is ridiculously beautiful. Which means she attracts attention.

A couple at the table next to where Jean and Dr. Essex had sat were in the throes of a bitter, low-volume, argument when I touched their minds. The husband was cheating on his wife. She was cheating on him in an act of petty revenge. Things had come to a head between them when he was unable to keep his eyes off of Jean. It was all so ridiculous and trivial and silly and... and... human.

However, the husband had overheard something useful.

"Jean and Essex are on their way to State University," I told Marie.

Marie nodded as she nervously looked around. Everyone in the dining room was sitting stiffly upright, staring at nothing.

I tiredly rubbed my temples. If you touch the minds of fifty or so people, you will inevitably see things you do not want to see.

An elderly man was dining by himself near the main window. His wife of over fifty years had died just a few days ago. This had been their favorite restaurant and he was sitting at their favorite table. He was going to kill himself after he went home, and he was at peace with his decision.

A sixteen year old girl was sitting at a back table with her step-mother. She was trying to work up the nerve to tell her step-mother that her step-brother was fumblingly trying to seduce her - and was becoming more and more aggressive as she rebuffed him. But the step-mother already knew, and didn't particularly care. She had a plan to twist the facts so the girl would be blamed for what was happening.

A respectable-looking man in the corner had a taste for pre-teen boys. He'd desperately fought that urge for his entire life. So far he hadn't done anything wrong, but his control was steadily slipping, and there was a youngster in his neighborhood who was so pretty and friendly.

A young man sitting at a table with his parents and siblings was ignoring a particularly banal conversation as his thoughts drifted once again to the men he'd killed during the Great War. The face of a German boy that he'd bayoneted at Chateau Thierry kept looking at him with pleading eyes. He felt so terribly alone. There was nobody who understood. Nobody to talk to...

On the way out the door, my control slipped. With a sobbing gasp, I tripped and almost fell.

Marie caught me. Then, without a word, she wiped my tears away as we stumbled down the sidewalk.

---

I more-or-less had control of myself by the time we got to the University. Marie was silent during the drive. For my part, I said nothing and made a point of not even looking at her. I hate it when people see me when I'm vulnerable. And - dear God - why did it have to be Marie of all people?

It took some effort to banish that thought. This wasn't about me. It was about Jean.

"Park near that phone booth," I told Marie.

She did as I asked - for the sake of anonymity, we'd taken her car instead of my limousine. Then she put a hand my arm, signaling for me to wait until she got out of the car.

Marie opened my door for me, but what she had really done was scan our surroundings. I got out and walked over to the phone booth. I normally only use phones when I need to talk to people that I don't want to upset by demonstrating my powers. I particularly hate public phones. Anything used by the masses is intrinsically filthy.

Fortunately, I was wearing gloves. However, I did have one small problem - I don't usually carry pocket change. I glanced at Marie. She sighed, took a dime out of her purse, and handed it to me.

I quickly dialed a number. One of my agents answered.

"First precinct, Detective Tanner speaking," responded the voice on the other end.

Tanner was one of my creatures. He was a typically corrupt police officer, and a man riddled with a taste for peculiar vices. Taking him into my service had been pathetically easy.

Not bothering to identify myself - he damn well better know who I was - I said, "There's an elderly gentleman named Horace Whitt who lives at 901 Lindsey Street. He plans to kill himself. Arrest him on whatever charge seems convenient. Hold him until I have an opportunity to talk with him."

"Yes, ma'..." Tanner was in the middle of replying when I hung up on him.

Marie was staring at me.

"Just a detail from the restaurant," I explained to her. "I had to attend to it."

All Mr. Whitt needed was some time to adjust to the loss of his wife. And perhaps somebody to talk to. I could provide him with both.

I would deal with the others as soon as possible. The girl needed a fundamental change in her home-life. The ex-soldier would find companionship among those who understood. The pedophile would require more direct action on my part, but I'd make sure that he would never hurt a child.

Marie actually smiled at me. I ignored her.

---

Jean attends State University. She's pursuing an education, which is most un-ladylike. I heartily approved.

Over the years, I've been on campus many times. The Bohemian element of the student population is filled with beautiful boys and girls willing and eager to drink deeply from the cup of life's corruption. I met Janet Van Dyne - a woman very dear to me - at a just off-campus party. The event featured the usual alcohol, drugs, nudity, sex, radical politics, and a particularly inept attempt to summon Satan.

A smile crossed my lips as I remembered the things I spent the next month doing to Janet in her dormitory room. There were strict rules about male visitors in the woman's dormitory. There were no rules about female visitors - I could come and go at will. Thank goodness the virtue of our city's college women is so diligently guarded.

After the semester ended, Janet moved in with me. We were together for about a year. And then she met Hank Pym and it all fell apart.

That was enough nostalgia. I forced myself back to reality. I wasn't there to reminisce or mourn.

Looking around, I shook my head in frustration. The university has a rather large campus.

"I can do a psychic search..." I began thoughtfully.

Marie nodded in the direction of the student center. "Let's try that first."

I looked in the direction that Marie had indicated. There was a sign in one of the student center's windows. A visiting academic was giving a lecture on recent breakthroughs in biological and medical research.

The speaker was, of course, Dr. Nathaniel Essex. According to the sign, the lecture had already begun.

Marie was doing her best not to smile. The bitch.

---

We walked into the student center's auditorium and found a pair of seats at the back of the room.

Dr. Essex was giving his lecture. He was a dark and handsome man, with particularly arresting eyes. His tailored suit suggested wealth and breeding. His mannerism's were somewhat old-fashioned for his apparent age. His manner of speaking was powerful and engaging.

"Wow," Marie whispered after giving me a startled look. "He's an eyeful."

Marie had a point. By any definition, Essex was a powerfully attractive man.

*Do you see Jean?* I asked telepathically.

*No,* Marie answered, her eyes carefully sweeping the audience, *but the gang's all here.*

She was right.

Doctor Banner and Elizabeth Ross were sitting together near the front row, holding hands. Elizabeth was very pregnant - the baby should be arriving in just a few weeks. Otherwise, Elizabeth looked terrible. There were dark circles around her eyes and her face was haggard. She had a large scarf tied over her head and I suspected that was to hide the fact that she'd lost much of her hair.

Further back, Henry Pym and Janet were seated next to one another. Thankfully, there was no sign of that vile creature, Bolivar Trask. There was a flush to Janet's cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes. She was sitting very primly, with as little of her back and buttocks as possible in contact with her chair. I knew that look - she'd been freshly disciplined. I'd put that same look on her face quite a few times.

Tony Stark was near the middle of the room. He had two attractive women with him - one a blonde and the other a redhead. The blonde was obviously bored out of her mind. The redhead looked interested and was taking notes in a small note-pad. The redhead was Stark's secretary. I didn't know the blonde, but I'd seen her at several Hellfire Club events, usually wearing little more than lipstick, nail polish, and a professional smile.

I fought down a surge of anger and fear as I saw that Hank McCoy, an important member of Logan's mob, was also present. Well-dressed and wearing spectacles, you'd never guess he was one of the most dangerous gangsters in town. After the destruction of the Hellfire Club's Inner Circle, I became a captive of Logan's gang. I'll never forget McCoy's cold expression as he told Kitty Pryde to take me down to the docks and hold me there. Kitty spent the rest of the night and all of the next morning torturing me. Her style was petty and unformed, but fairly effective. However, her performance suffered from a lack of direction. Mostly, she was just hurting me because I wasn't as broken as she was. Idle resentment seldom inspires good results.

"It's okay," Marie whispered. To my surprise, I realized that I'd slipped my hand into hers when I saw McCoy.

I didn't remove my hand. Marie gave it a comforting squeeze.

After taking a deep breath, I focused on Essex and tried the gentlest of mind-probes.

To my surprise, I encountered resistance.

---

Without a word, I got up and left the auditorium. Marie, of course, followed me.

"What the hell?" she asked once we were out the door.

"Essex is a psychic," I explained. "I tried to read him - I was hoping to find where Jean is - but he has defenses. I didn't try to break through them."

That brought Marie up short.

"Do you think he spotted you?" she finally asked.

I shook my head. "I don't know. I hope not. But we need more power on our side."

Across the hall was a row of phone booths. They were of a kind that was already going out of style - made of fine wood and built into the wall. Each had a wooden door with a window that allowed anyone outside to see if the booth was occupied. Inside each booth was a bench seat and an ornate, wall-mounted, pay-phone.

There was some traffic in the hallway, but nobody was near the booths.

"Come with me," I said to Marie. Then I entered one of the booths. Marie also entered and I closed the door behind us. We now had some reasonable level of privacy.

Taking Marie's face in my hands, I pulled her closer to me. Then I kissed her.

---

Marie didn't resist. She didn't even seem surprised. And then an electric-like thrill seemed to whisper through my mind and body as Marie carefully shared in my powers. It wasn't painful and I wasn't particularly frightened. We had done that before.

Our kiss didn't stop when she was done. We had also done that before.

When our lips finally parted, we spent a long moment with our eyes closed and our foreheads touching. It was a strangely peaceful pause in our otherwise quite busy afternoon.

My dress was partially unzipped and Marie's hands were on my bare back, just underneath the unfastened strap of my bra. Her dress was up around her waist, and I'd slipped my hands inside her panties and was cupping the cheeks of her buttocks.

*Apparently we have to be careful when we do this sort of thing,* I mind-whispered to her. *We tend to get a bit out of control.*

Marie just shook her head - and then nipped me on the cheek with her teeth

*Slut,* Marie telepathed back to me as she refastened by brassiere.

*Trollop,* I shot back as I pulled the hem of her dress back down into a less revealing position.

*Whore,* she replied as she zipped up my dress.

*Slattern,* I added as I smoothed down the back of her dress and finally took my hands off her backside.

Then we opened our eyes and looked at each other. I could sense the humor dancing in her psyche. We'll never be friends, but I suppose we're not enemies. Not anymore.

---

*Can you tell if Jean is in the area?* Marie asked after we left the phone booth. We were speaking mind-to-mind. There was a contemplative look on Marie's face, and I could tell that she was carefully testing the powers she'd borrowed from me.

*No,* I responded, *but Jean is very good at controlling her psychic aura.*

Marie hesitated for a moment before continuing. *Should we scan for her?*

"Scanning", as Marie called it, is a much more active and intensive procedure than simply sensing nearby mental signatures. It is also very "loud" in psychic terms. If Marie or I were to actively search for Jean, it would instantly alert any psychics in the area that we were present. I've noticed that whenever Marie shares my powers, she defers to my expertise with them. That's wise on her part, but it has always surprised me. Marie is her own woman on most things, and she has always been less than inclined to put up with me.

*Not yet,* I replied. *Let's be careful until we get a better feel for what Essex is doing.*

Marie considered that - and then nodded. *So what's the plan?*

People were beginning to stream out of the auditorium. Dr. Essex had apparently finished his lecture.

*We'll follow Essex and see if he leads us to Jean,* I told Marie.

Marie nodded again. Then she took my arm and steered me down the hall and away from the crowd.

*No point in being obvious,* Marie suggested to me. That made sense since we might be doing something less than legal in the very near future. I also caught an undercurrent of wary concern from Marie. She didn't like the idea of being surrounded by a crowd. In such a situation, there were too many angles of potential attack and she couldn't watch them all. That made keeping me safe an increasingly problematical issue. I was becoming more-and-more impressed with Marie's skills as a bodyguard.

We put the crowd between us and the entrance to the auditorium. Almost as soon as we did that, Tony Stark and his two feminine companions appeared in the crowded hallway. The blonde - obviously relieved to be done with the lecture - was chatting animatedly with Tony. The tall redhead was still writing in her notebook.

Stark's mind was a whirl of intricate technical concepts, moving too fast to be really comprehensible. Apparently something in Essex' lecture had caught his interest. His psyche was a confused patchwork of narcissism, genius, and a genuine concern for others - all wrapped up in his desire to keep the rest of humanity at an emotional distance. The only thing that Tony Stark couldn't figure out was other people.

The redhead - she was Stark's secretary - was concerned about the next item on Stark's agenda, which was a meeting with several of Stark's senior managers. Efficiency and loyalty were her driving character traits. She was using them both to conceal how she really felt about Stark.

The blonde was trying to come up with a plan that would give herself and Stark sufficient privacy so she could fellate him. She considered the afternoon blowjob to be a vital element of keeping a man's interest. Her motives were coldly mercenary, of course, but she had a daughter that she loved so deeply that it cut through everything else with the sharpness of a razor.

Marie shook her head at me.

*She's a common gold-digger,* I told Marie with a disdainful shrug. *Men like Stark attract them like flies to honey.*

A quick smile quirked across Marie's lips. *Don't be so judgmental, Emma. Everyone has to pay the bills.*

*Than she's in luck," I countered. *Whatever his other faults may be, Tony is a generous man.*

Marie's smile became a grin. *Tony's secretary - Miss Potts - is more than a little jealous. She wouldn't mind helping Tony with his more personal needs, but she can't bear the idea of him thinking she's just another girl after his money. And she's scared of his womanizing reputation. She doesn't want to be the latest notch on his bedpost.*

*Tony actually thinks a great deal of Miss Potts,* I responded idly. "People are amazingly blind about each other."

*I can't help but feel sorry for her,* Marie added. *I know what it's like to be a secretary and have the hots for an oblivious boss.*

I smiled. *How long did you work for Dom before your relationship became more personal?*

*About a year,* Marie said thoughtfully. *It took a while to convince Dom that I was serious about wanting to get into her pants. For such an unconventional lady, she had a hard time making the adjustment.*

The edge of one of Marie's memories crept arose our psychic link. It was about her and Dom's first night together. They were in Marie's old apartment - the one next to a neon-sign that blinked on-and-off throughout the night, bathing her apartment in an alternating sequence of garish red light and darkness. The light illuminated their bare bodies as they...

I forced the memory away. It was too personal.

Then I touched several stray minds in the crowd. Rather than risk searching for Essex directly - something he would almost certainly spot with his own psychic abilities - I used what the bystanders were seeing to get a feel for what he was doing at the moment.

Marie sensed what I was doing and raised an appreciative eyebrow. She'd apparently just learned a new trick.

As it turned out, Essex was still in the front of the auditorium, talking with several members of the audience. Bruce Banner and Elizabeth Ross were among them.

We "watched" as Essex courteously disengaged himself from his well-wishers - all except Banner and Ross - and began walking towards the auditorium's doorway. Marie and I drifted further into the background, so we wouldn't be immediately visible. I also put up a psychic barrier that would hide any stray psychic emissions that might emanate from Marie or myself.

Then Marie suddenly took me by the shoulders and carefully pulled me behind a trophy-filled display case. She also added her mental strength to mine, reinforcing our psychic defenses.

I was so busy concentrating that I didn't immediately notice Jean walk through the front door of the student center. She walked over to Essex, Banner, and Ross and began chatting. She looked poised and serious - and not at all in trouble. Essex greeted Jean politely, but Banner and Ross seemed particularly happy to see her.

*Well, the 'follow Essex until we find Jean' plan has worked,* Marie commented in obvious amusement, *but what the hell is going on?*

*I don't know,* I answered tensely.

*Maybe we should be more direct?* Marie suggested slowly. *That would be as simple as walking over there and saying 'hi'.*

After a moment's thought, I shook my head. *No. We'll follow until we can get Jean alone.*

*Okay,* Marie responded doubtfully, *but tailing them could get tricky. We both stick out in a crowd.*

I closed my eyes and concentrated for a moment. Then I wrapped a psychic illusion around Marie and I. To the casual observer, we now looked like an ordinary pair of college girls.

Marie sensed what I was doing. She let out a low whistle of appreciation.

*How long have you been able to do this?* she asked.

*I developed the technique long ago,* I replied.

Marie shook her head. *If you ever decide to get out of the idle-rich business, let me know. Dom and I will find you a place in our office.*

Then Marie put an image into my mind.

We were in Domino's office. Marie and Dom were at their respective desks. Sooraya was with them - she had a new desk and had obviously been promoted to a full partner. I had Sooraya's old desk and was primly dressed as a common secretary as I dutifully typed and filed.

Sooraya imperiously held out a coffee cup and I scurried to fill it for her.

That actually made me smile. Very few people are so bold with me. I can always trust Marie to be the one who dares.

Then I became serious again. *We have to find a way to get a moment alone with Jean. Without alerting Essex.*

Marie nodded in agreement. *Wait here,* she said.

Then she walked over to Hank McCoy.

---

Marie said something to McCoy. McCoy was surprised at first, but then he calmly nodded at Marie and they exchanged a few more words.

I had to admit that was a very quick and sure reaction on McCoy's part. Logan has a moderately talented psychic named Betsy Braddock in his gang, so I suppose McCoy had been a part of clandestine psychic actions before. His instant willingness to help Marie didn't surprise me. Most members of Logan's gang seem to hold her in high regard.

Marie drifted away from McCoy and approached the small crowd of Essex, Banner, Ross, and Jean. Then she paused. For all the world, she looked like a slightly star-struck college girl who couldn't quite bring herself to actually introduce herself to the university's honored guest.

McCoy vanished back into the auditorium.

I waited to see what would happen.

"You son of a bitch!" I heard McCoy yell. "Stay away from my girl!" Then there was a crash.

Everyone in the hall froze and looked back towards the auditorium. McCoy exited, dragging a local college-boy by the shirt collar. The boy was wide-eyed and protesting that he didn't have a clue what McCoy was talking about. McCoy snarled a non-verbal response and tossed the boy towards Essex and the others. They automatically stepped away to avoid the impact. Then McCoy charged after the boy, yelling imprecations. His arms were wind-milling wildly, but somehow not connecting with the boy - which was actually rather decent of him.

Everybody with common sense scattered further away from the fray. The stupid and the bloodthirsty pushed forward to get a better view of the fight. The hallway near the auditorium entrance was a pandemonium of crowded bodies, many of them moving at cross-purposes.

I caught a flash of red-hair on the edge of the sudden crowd. Then Marie and Jean were walking towards me. Marie had Jean by the arm.

Jean gave me a furious look.

---

There was an empty meeting room at the end of the hallway. Jean, Marie, and I entered closed the door behind us. Then I dropped the psychic disguise that I had around Marie and I. However, I kept up the psychic shield.

"What are you two doing?!" Jean hissed at me.

I held a hand up placatingly. "Jean, it's important that we talk."

"Why?!" Jean said.

"Essex may be a problem," Marie broke in quickly.

Jean subsided, her eyes flickering from Marie's face to mine. I supposed I should have been offended that Jean actually responded better to what Marie had said, but we didn't have the time for that sort of thing.

"Essex is dangerous," I added. "His researches are daring, but quite cruel. He's killed people, Jean. And he is particularly interested in our kind."

A worried expression crept over Jean's face.

"What's going on here, Jean?" Marie demanded. "What's with you and Essex? And what does it have to do with Bruce and Betty?"

Jean glanced at the door that led back into the hallway before responding.

"Dr. Essex says he can help them," Jean replied hesitantly.

---

Elizabeth Ross and Bruce Banner were both dying.

Almost a year ago, they were exposed to strange radiations as the result of an act of sabotage in Dr. Banner's laboratory. As a result, they both gained the ability to turn into monsters. However, the radiation exposure was also slowly killing them.

Banner was doing everything he could to save himself and Elizabeth - and the unborn child that Elizabeth was carrying, but so far he'd had no luck.

Actually, I could believe what Jean had said. If there was anyone on Earth who could help those two, it was Essex. He was mad and evil, but he was also very good at what he did. I just had my doubts about the cost of his services.

Sometimes death is the better option.

---

"Okay," Marie said disgustedly. "Everyone slow down. We have to sort this mess out before we do anything."

Then Marie looked at me. "Emma, you keep saying Essex is a really bad guy. But what do you actually know about him?"

"Essex was associated with the Hellfire club's Inner Circle," I answered. "I didn't know that until just a few days before Logan's gang dealt with the Inner Circle. Essex has a secret laboratory in Haiti. His experimental subjects go in there, but they never come out again. The old Black King - Sebastian Shaw - was supplying Essex with mutants and ordinary people alike as experimental subjects."

Both Jean and Marie glanced at each other. Then they both gave me a long look.

"Go on," Marie said evenly.

"I've spent the last few years trying to frustrate Essex' researches," I continued tiredly. "I continue shutting down his supply of victims, but he keeps finding new ones. I've reported him to the various authorities - Haitian, American, and British - numerous times, but he has a knack for subverting any investigation. Now that I know he's a psychic, I finally understand how he has been doing that. I should have guessed earlier."

Marie looked at Jean. "And what do you know about Essex?"

Jean gave Marie and I a helpless look. "He's a world-renowned doctor and scientist. His papers have been published in major journals and are considered to be important. He's a visiting professor at the Harvard School of Medicine and he's associated with at least a dozen prestigious scientific organizations. He's been giving lectures all up and down the east coast for the last month. This is supposed to be just another stop on his tour."

"When you first met him, did you notice that he's a psychic?" Marie asked curiously.

"Of course I did!" Jean shot back heatedly. "But so what? Emma, Betsy Braddock, Dr. Xavier, and I are psychics as well - it doesn't mean we're bad people!"

I barely stopped myself from reminding Jean that many people do not consider me 'good people', Betsy was part of a criminal gang that didn't hesitate to kill people, Xavier's motives remain mysterious, and Jean herself was potentially the most dangerous being on Earth. Psychics know too much and that does things to them. It quite common for all of us to deviate from the norm. The only question was just how separated from the rest of humanity we became.

Marie held up a hand and Jean calmed down. "Have you noticed anything about him that seems hinky? Or heard anything?"

Jean gnawed on her lower lip for a moment - I just can't seem to break her of that habit.

Then she responded. "One of my professors, Dr. Svengard, once told me that there were a few things in Dr. Essex' papers that he couldn't have learned without a good supply of human specimens for dissection. It seemed to bother Dr. Svengard, but when I asked about it, he just laughed it off."

"Anything else?" Marie asked intently.

"Essex has been pretty interested in me. I mean... he's a guy, after all."

"If that's not unusual, why did you bring it up?" Marie asked instantly. Really, she kept surprising me with her perceptiveness.

Jean sighed. "There was a trace - just a trace - of a psychic touch when we first met. He withdrew in a hurry and I figured it was because he'd realized that I was also a psychic. But before that, he was definitely trying to peek into my mind."

"Or he might have been testing your defenses," I interrupted tartly. "If you weren't a psychic he might have made you into his thrall. You could be in a hotel room right now, waiting naked in his bed and praying with all your might that Essex would return soon and order you to spread your legs."

Jean gave me a level look. "You don't really believe that. I can tell."

I bit back an angry reply. "Believe me, Jean, what Essex has in mind for you is a lot worse than that."

"What are you talking about?" Jean shot back.

"Did you ever wonder why the Inner Circle had you kidnapped?" I replied heatedly. "What they were planning for you?"

Jean didn't reply, but her eyes narrowed. Marie shifted slightly - the beginning of an instinctively protective move towards Jean.

"They were going to give you to Essex," I finished quietly. "And then he was going to take you apart and see what made you tick. You're not like other psychics, Jean. The Inner Circle knew that. And Essex knows it."

There was a long silence. Jean was obviously surprised.

"Okay, so where do Betty and Bruce fit into this?" Marie eventually demanded.

Jean was still staring at me. It took her a moment to respond.

"I was... I was talking to Essex over lunch. I told him about Bruce and Betty - that they were sick, not what they can turn into. He was interested and said he'd like to talk with them. He said he'd done his own researches into exotic radiations and thought he might be able to help. So I introduced them. Banner and Essex hit it off immediately. We were going to Banner's laboratory to look over Bruce's research into their condition, when you interrupted."

Marie and I exchanged a look. "There are all sorts of bad ways to interpret that," Marie told me, "but it might also be true."

I shook my head. "Essex won't help Banner and Elizabeth out of the goodness of his heart."

Jean shrugged. "Does that really matter as long as he saves them?"

I considered that for a long moment. Then I let out a long sigh.

"We'll see how this plays out," I said. Jean and Marie nodded in agreement.

"Rejoin Essex and the others," I told Jean. "Marie and I will follow."

---

Out on the front steps of the student center, Jean rejoined Essex and her friends. They seemed glad to see her. Marie and I stayed discreetly in the background.

Elizabeth Ross was standing with her profile to us. Her belly was enormous.

*My God, that woman is about to burst,* I told Marie.

*I hope...* Marie began to respond, but then stopped.

*Don't hope too much for a happy ending,* I replied regretfully. I didn't think the odds favored either Banner or Ross, but the deck seemed particularly stacked against Elizabeth.

Hank McCoy was nowhere to be seen. The rattled young man who had been Hank's victim was walking unsteadily away, supported by an older man who I took to be a professor.

*Poor Hank,* Marie commented. *He loves going to lectures here on campus, but I guess that's impossible now. I'll have to find a way to make it up to him.*

*What's the hold you have over Logan and his people?* I asked as I kept an eye on Jean and Essex.

I could sense Marie's fond smile. *We're friends,* she said. *Nothing other than that.*

*Then why aren't you still with them?* I asked.

There was a pause before Marie answered. *I slept with the boss. And that was a mistake.*

It was distant and wrapped in regrets, but she still cared for Logan. The memory of them together in bed on a bright and clear Sunday morning entered her mind. They'd spent the previous night making love, and then the morning talking. That was just after Marie had finally gained some level of control over her powers. Logan was the first man to take a chance with her new-found control.

*Why?* I continued curiously. *As near as I can tell, Logan would do anything for you.*

*Logan's not a one-woman kind of man. I guess I just didn't want to be another face in his crowd.*

A flicker of feminine faces - like a jerky movie reel - went through Marie's mind. There was a startling number of them. And some of them I never would have guessed as being associated with Logan.

However, I could tell that Marie wasn't telling me the entire truth. There was something else between her and Logan - and she was keeping it deeply buried.

I shuddered. *I will never understand what so many women see in that smelly hedgehog of a man.*

Marie's psychic smile grew broader. *Emma, maybe you shouldn't knock it until you've tried it.*

Separating themselves from the crowd, Jean, Essex, Banner, and Ross began walking in the direction of Banner's laboratory.

I could see something in Banner and Ross that I'd never seen before. It was hope.

---

"Is this how investigations usually go?" I asked Marie. "All of this following and waiting?"

Jean and the others had vanished into the small brick building that was Banner's laboratory. Marie and I were sitting on a bench that gave us a view of the entrance. A cool autumnal wind was whipping streams of fallen leaves through the trees. That part of campus was heavily treed - almost forest-like. Banner's laboratory was barely visible from the nearest university building.

Marie flashed me a smile. "That's ninety-five percent of the job, Emma. The times when you've worked with me and Dom were the exciting five percent."

I winced. "Sometimes too exciting."

Marie nodded, but said nothing, but her face suddenly seemed tense and drawn.

In the back of Marie's mind, there was something... an image of a tall and lean feminine figure, but did it actually have a burning skull for a head? The memory seemed to be partially concealed by the sort of hazy layering that the mind puts over terrible or violent experiences. Normally it takes years for that to happen, but I could tell that she had met that creature just a few months ago.

"Do you think we're being too careful?" I asked. Yes, I was trying to distract Marie from that fearful memory. "How would Domino handle this situation?"

Marie focused on my question - and on Domino. The burning skull faded away.

"Dom's always told me that sometimes an investigation needs a kick in the pants, just to see if that knocks something loose," Marie replied. "So if she figures it's necessary, she'll ditch the sneaking around and get more direct. The trick is knowing when to keep to the background, and when to force some sort of confrontation. But when it comes to psychics, Dom's pretty careful."

Then she paused before going on. There was a half-smile on her face. "I reckon you taught her that last part, Emma."

I was about to respond when Jean sent out a panicky, half-strangled, psychic shout.

*Marie! Emma! Help!*

Then she fell silent.

---

Marie and I simultaneously jumped off the bench and began sprinting across the road towards Banner's laboratory. Fortunately, we're both good at running in heels.

It was all I could do to not call out to Jean. Marie was likewise restrained. We were both hoping to catch Essex by surprise.

By the time we got across the road, Marie already had her revolver in her hand. Meanwhile, I was still trying to fumble my weapon from my purse. So Marie was a few feet ahead of me.

Putting a hand up to forestall me from lunging through the front door. Marie put herself adjacent to a window, using the wall for cover, and then took a quick peek inside. I joined her on the opposite side of the window.

The lab was cluttered, yet meticulously organized. Jean, Elizabeth, and Banner were laying on the floor, obviously unconscious. There was no sign of what had happened to them.

Essex was standing among the still bodies, calmly talking into the lab's telephone.

This close, I should have been able to get a sense of who Essex was and what he was thinking. Instead, he was just a blankness. That felt very strange. Even quite powerful psychics, like Jean, had a psychic aura. But Essex was hollow and empty. He had a way of shielding himself than was different from standard techniques. I didn't like that - if he could do that, what else could he do?

Marie gave me an urgent look and then went for the front door. I could hear the hammer of her revolver click back decisively.

Stepping back from the window, I leveled my weapon at Essex. Shooting through a window can present problems, it's surprising how much ordinary window glass can cause a bullet to deviate. However, at the moment it was the best way to cover Marie.

I considered the pros-and-cons of simply killing Essex right then and there. But I didn't care to run the risk of a stray shot hitting somebody else, and I didn't want to drag either Jean or Marie into a murder investigation. I cared too much for Jean, and I wasn't paying Marie enough money for that sort of thing.

---

Marie threw opened the laboratory door and aimed her weapon.

"Freeze, Essex," she said coldly. "Keep your hands were I can see them."

For a long and frozen moment, Essex stared at Marie. Then he slowly and carefully put down the phone.

"Have we met?" he asked mildly. His voice was calm, but his eyes were shrewd and calculating. He didn't think he had lost control of the situation.

"Can't say we have," Marie responded evenly. She was still standing outside the door. "Why don't you tell me what you did to these people?"

Essex hesitated. He was sending a psychic suggestion to Marie. He wanted her to step inside the lab and take a deep breath to calm herself...

*He gassed them,* I sent to Marie. *Don't go inside.*

Essex detected that. He glanced through the window and saw me. His eyes widened slightly, but then he quickly recovered.

*Miss Frost,* he sent with a courtly nod of his head. *You've been something of a thorn in my side. I wondered if I might encounter you during my stay here. However, I didn't realize that we had so much in common.*

*Life is just full of surprises,* I sent back to him.

"Start dragging everyone out of there," Marie ordered Essex.

Essex considered that for a long moment. Then he nodded, picked up Jean, and began carrying her to the door.

That was when Essex' henchmen showed up.

---

Marie and I were concentrating too hard on Essex and that was a big mistake. It should have occurred to us to wonder what Essex had in mind for Jean, Elizabeth, and Banner once he had incapacitated them. At the very least, he would want to take Jean with him - and perhaps also Elizabeth and Banner. Yet he didn't have a vehicle parked near Banner's laboratory. So how was he planning on getting away?

A four-door sedan soundlessly pulled up behind us. For a split-second, I wondered why we hadn't heard them approach, but then I became too busy to worry about that. The car was filled with thugs, and they began jumping out of the vehicle, handguns at the ready.

Marie erected the most powerful psychic screen she could manage. I did the same. After all, there was no point in worrying about the possibility of Essex detecting us. He knew we were onto him.

I made the mistake of trying to psychically attack the gunmen. If it had worked, I'd have taken them all down at once. However, Essex managed to block it. That kept me busy for a critical split-second

Then Marie shot Essex. Both Essex and Jean tumbled to the floor as Marie turned to face the gunmen. I could hear Essex gasp out a curse.

Marie used her free hand to thrust me away. "Run!" she yelled at me.

The gunmen opened fire on Marie. She was struck several times, the impact driving her into the doorway. She stumbled over the bodies of Essex and Jean, and fell to the floor inside the laboratory. I heard her gun skitter out of her hand and across the floor.

The gunmen had ignored me. I realized that because of the way I was turned about, they hadn't seen the gun in my hand. They were concentrating almost entirely on Marie and Essex.

Thumbing the selector switch on my Stark-Mauser to full automatic, I spun to face Essex' thugs, and then opened fire.

A hail of bullets swept over the gunmen.

---

Most people don't know it, but I'm actually a good shot. Yes, I'm a powerful psychic, but sometimes even someone like me needs a more direct way to deal with a threat. As a result, I've put a fair amount of time and effort into becoming a more than adequate marksman.

However, in that particular case, I must admit that I was lucky. Automatic fire is deadly, but tricky, and you can waste a great deal of ammunition with limited results. And my Stark-Mauser only had a ten-round magazine.

But as I said: I was both lucky and good. That's always a good combination. Just ask Domino.

A second later, my handgun was empty, emptied in a single, furious burst that I'd swept from left to right across the line of my foes. Two of the four gunmen were down - one missing a sizable part of his face and another trying to staunch a flow of blood from the right side of his chest. A third had been shot in the shoulder and was painfully staggering away, clutching at his wound. He'd dropped his weapon and it lay abandoned in the middle of the road.

The fourth man was crouched behind the sedan. He returned fire at me, but missed repeatedly. Apparently my burst of firepower had rattled him and was throwing off his aim.

Even through the haze of psychic interference from Essex, I could sense the gunman's terror. He and his companions had thought they were in full control of the situation. Now one of them was dead and two more were so badly wounded that they were out of the fight. And he didn't know that I was out of ammunition.

I took a deep breath and held it. Then I lunged for the lab's doorway, hoping to get into cover, retrieve Marie's revolver, and then get out through a back exit. Then I'd double around the building and hopefully get the opportunity to back-shoot Essex and his minion.

Unfortunately, Essex wasn't incapacitated. He grabbed my ankle as I jumped over his body and pulled hard. I lost my balance and slammed face-first into the tile floor. That drove the air from me and I involuntarily took in a gasping breath.

There was no scent to whatever gas Essex was using, but I almost instantly became woozy. As Essex painfully climbed to his feet, everything began to fade away.

---

"Wake up," somebody said. I was sure I knew the voice, but I couldn't quite place it.

An sharp ammonia scent filled my nostrils - smelling salts. Everything was hazy and disconnected. I tried to say something, but nothing happened. The best I could do was blink my eyes awake.

I didn't know where I was, but I knew the man who was looming over me. It was Hank McCoy.

McCoy's mind was a whirl of precisely interlinked thoughts - all processing simultaneously. Hank was a brilliant man. If he had just received a proper education, and found some other path in life other than crime, who knows what he might have accomplished?

"What..." I slurred out. Then I finally managed to wave away the smelling salts that McCoy was holding under my nose. I had a terrific headache.

McCoy stepped back from the cot on which I was laying.

McCoy knew that many people - women in particular - were threatened by his bulky, brutish, appearance, and he avoided too much contact with anyone he didn't know. The hurt and anger he should have felt because of that was actually well controlled. Now it was just a regret, with the more painful aspects long since covered by emotional scar-tissue.

"What happened?" I finally managed to ask as I painfully sat up.

McCoy shrugged. "Why don't you tell me? Marie sent a mental call for help and I showed up just as Essex' people were trying to load you, Marie, Jean Grey, and the Banner's into a car. There was a dead man laying on the side of the road with part of his head shot off, blood all over the place, and the whole area smelled like a firefight. I contributed a few long-distance shots to the general mayhem and Essex and his surviving men decided to cut their losses. They drove off with Grey and the Banners."

My heart went into my mouth. Essex had Jean. Marie and I had to...

Wait...

That was when I realized that Marie was on a cot next to me. Somebody had taken off her blouse and roughly bandaged her wounds. She'd been shot at least twice and her cot was drenched with blood. Her eyes were closed and she was barely breathing. She looked terribly pale.

Perched on a wooden chair, an older man in an ancient suit was sitting next to Marie. His blood-soaked hands were rummaging through a doctor's bag. In a china saucer on a nearby table, were the bullets he'd extracted from Marie.

The crimes the doctor had committed began small, and were mostly the result of trying to save someone he loved, but they quickly accelerated. When that inevitably caused his life to fall apart, he toyed with addiction. Despite his very real skills, his license had long-since been revoked and the doctor could only find employment of a sorts doing street-medicine for a pack of criminals. Never far from his mind was the thought that he always had a way out - an expertly self-administered overdose of morphine would put a merciful end to his uncherished existence.

However, he hadn't reached that point. At least, not yet.

"We have to get her to a hospital!" I hissed through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the pounding in my head.

"She'll be okay," McCoy replied soothingly.

I think I blinked at that. Getting shot twice in the torso, and then having your wounds treated by a borderline self-destructive doctor, was not something that left you "okay".

McCoy saw my confusion. "Help's on the way," he added.

And then the Prince of the city - Logan himself - entered the room.

---

Logan is a dangerous and rough-looking man - short, dark-eyed, and broad, with a ferocious mien and oddly swept-back hair. He runs the biggest gang in this city, and his gang numbers many of the so-called "powered" as its most important members.

In other words, Logan runs a mutant criminal gang that possesses a tremendous range of powerful abilities and skills. When I referred to Logan as the Prince of the city, that was not a joke or an overstatement. Both the politicians and the police deferred to him, and that was a wise decision on their part. He was a power unto himself, and woe be unto any who crossed him. I once made the huge mistake of doing just that.

The only thing that saved me was Logan's willingness to listen to Domino. Logan didn't make the tyrant's usual mistake of refusing to heed the advice of others. Perhaps that was the scariest thing about him. He was much, much, smarter than people realized.

Logan looked at Marie and his face went cold. Then he gave me a brief look that suggested I better have a good explanation for what had happened.

Logan was all winter and fury... an elemental force of a man who was much older than he appeared. In his past - never far from his memory - was a place of hot steel, cold ice, and lost humanity. It was where monsters in human form did things to their victims with scalpels and needles as they sought to create the perfect soldier.

I caught a memory of Logan's escape. There was a boy and a girl with him. The boy was a strangely passive blond, his eyes puzzled and confused as he muttered the words "one" and "zero" over-and-over in an irregular pattern. The girl was a teenager with brown, curly, hair. Her face and arms were covered with the marks of a savage beating.

Both of the children clung tightly to Logan's blood-stained hands as the three of them fled through snow-covered woods.

I knew the girl. It was Kitty Pryde, and she was already as mad as a hatter. Logan could see it in her eyes. And he was wondering if the best he could do for the children was to grant them a quick and clean death...

I jerked away from that memory. I didn't want to see anything more.

Two other people had followed Logan into the room. One was Raven Darkholme. People thought she was one of Logan's bodyguards, but she is actually his most formidable assassin. Darkholme was a complete psychic void, which meant she was wearing one of those psychic shield devices created by Logan's pet mad-scientist. However, I didn't need to be a psychic to tell that Darkholme was worried and frightened. I know the secret that she and Marie share, but I've long since decided it was none of my business.

The other person accompanying Logan was Betsy Braddock, and I could sense how she and McCoy were making a conscious effort to not acknowledge each other.

The connection between Braddock and McCoy was unmistakable - they were lovers. However, their relationship was quite one-sided. To Braddock it was an affectionate dalliance, while McCoy was deeply in love. However, he didn't dare press the issue. McCoy was frightened that he might lose her if he wasn't careful.

*You're in a world of trouble, little rich girl,* Braddock warned me psychically, her eyes cold and unblinking as they met mine. *Be very good, mind your manners, and you just might get out of this in one piece.*

I ignored her. Braddock was obviously present in order to keep me under control. She gave me a cold stare, as I sensed psychic power humming around her. Yes, I could defeat her in a psychic conflict, but the other people in the room would not remain idle while I was engaged with Braddock. And - thanks to that damned power dampener - Darkholme was actually immune to my powers. If I didn't behave, they were quite capable of killing me.

I hate dealing with Logan's gang. I'm never in control. And I like control.

Ignoring the rest of us, Logan dropped to one knee next to Marie's cot.

"Hey, kid," he said softly. His eyes were dark and intent.

Marie's eyes fluttered open. Then the barest trace of a smile appeared on her face.

"Jimmy... I got myself hurt," she whispered.

"We'll fix it," Logan promised.

Logan cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs lightly brushing her lips. It was a startlingly intimate moment and Braddock, Darkholme, and I found ourselves looking away.

The wave of emotion - both loss and love - that emanated from them was just too much. They had unbearably strong feelings for each other, but were unable to come to grips with them.

McCoy opened the door and held it open. "Everyone out," he growled.

As we left the room, Marie lifted a hand, put it behind Logan's neck, and pulled his face down to hers.

As their lips met, I felt Marie's power engage. She absorbed Logan's remarkable self-healing ability and her wounds began to regenerate.

---

The rest of us ended up in an empty bar. It was then that I realized that we were in the old hotel that was the headquarters of Logan's gang. I'd never been inside the place before, but I'd seen a memory of it in Domino's mind.

Logan's other assassin-bodyguard, a Japanese woman known as Yuriko, was waiting in the bar. She was dressed as a full geisha. She was also a psychic void. I began wondering just how many of those psychic-dampeners Logan had.

The doctor got behind the bar and pulled out a bottle. Then he counted out three glasses, set them up in a row, and poured out a measure of whiskey in each. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a small bottle and used an eyedropper to put a few drops into one glass. He handed that glass to me, and the other to McCoy. He didn't offer a drink to Raven or Yuriko.

I didn't hesitate to drink mine. It was a rougher brand than what I normally drank, but I still enjoyed it. The little extra that the doctor had put in mine was laudanum - old fashioned, but effective. My headache almost immediately began to decrease in intensity.

"Okay, what the hell is going on?" McCoy asked as he took a sip from his glass.

I considered my options for a moment, and then shrugged and told McCoy a quick version of the full story.

"I have to get out of here and find Jean," I eventually finished.

McCoy nodded coldly as he held his glass out for a refill. "You can leave whenever you want," he said.

"Then let's get going," Marie said.

I blinked in surprise and turned my head. Marie was standing in the door to the backroom that was the informal sickbay for Logan's gang. Her blouse and skirt were blood-stained - some of the blood still wet - but she has putting on her coat as she spoke. It would cover the worst of the blood.

"Are you sure?" I asked hesitantly. She looked fine, but I wasn't sure exactly how to judge that.

Marie smiled and held up her right hand, with the back turned towards me. Her smile didn't waver as three white claws suddenly appeared from between her knuckles.

"Oh... I'm just fine, Emma-dear," she responded. Her smile now had a distinct gleam to it. Her canine teeth were a bit elongated.

---

Raven, Yuriko, and the doctor entered the backroom to see to Logan. Meanwhile, McCoy made some phone-calls. Within fifteen minutes, his calls were returned. We were getting a rundown on Essex from the best intelligence network in town.

"He needs a lab - maybe some kind of medical facility - we'll find him there," Marie suggested calmly. She was standing behind the bar-stool on which I was sitting. Her hands were on my shoulders - one of them under the collar of my blouse, touching my bare skin as she stroked one of the shoulder-straps of my bra. Meanwhile, a sharp thumbnail was slowly meandering up and down the back of my neck, and the first two fingers of her other hand were intimately toying with one of my ears.

Actually, that felt wonderful.

Marie was still mostly herself, but now she was also Logan - and she was having a problem controlling him. The powerful animal fury emanating from her was staggering. Much of it was the sheer joy of being alive after such a close call. Anger at Essex and concern for Jean and the others made up the rest.

Marie had a neatly linear plan: Find Essex, kill him, free the prisoners, and then drag Jean and I off to someplace private so she could fuck us senseless.

I was just as aroused as Marie, and I wasn't particularly trying to control myself. However, I kept my hands to myself as I sat on my chair. My eyes were closed as I enjoyed the casually dominant way Marie was handling me.

Braddock was so embarrassed she couldn't even look at us. Well... that little faux-puritan murder-psychic could just kiss my ass. I was enjoying the attention and it was distracting me from worrying about Jean.

Hank ignored everything else as he continued using the phone to ask questions and get answers.

"The office building on the southwest corner of 45th and Bell," he finally reported. "Suite 7-C. A few days back, a guy matching Essex' description rented the office of a doctor who skipped town a month ago. It still has all of the doctor's equipment inside."

Still standing behind me, Marie growled in pleasure, tilted my head back, and then gave me a long, long kiss. As we kissed, and caring not a whit for the others around us, she calmly squeezed my breasts. My nipples reacted as she ran her thumbs around them.

When I opened my eyes, Marie was looking down at me.

Then I understood.

"This is it," I said evenly. "This is the real reason why you can't be with Logan. You have to be careful. Very careful or... this... happens to you."

Marie kissed me again. Then she bit me so hard that the skin on my lower lip broke. It took everything I had to not squeal in pain.

"Let's go," Marie purred down at me once she was finished.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied softly as I licked blood from my lips.

---

We were at the office building that Hank had told us about.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" gasped the doorman. He was staring at the blood on my face and on my white blouse and coat. Split lips take a long time to stop bleeding.

"She's fine," Marie said shortly. She was already looking for the elevator.

"I have a first-aid kit in the office," the doorman offered hesitantly.

I could sense the anger building up in Marie. Fear lanced through me. I didn't know what she might do to that poor Samaritan.

*Sit down. Stop worrying,* I quickly "told" him. The doorman blinked once, fell silent, and then turned around and went back to his chair.

Marie was smiling as she pulled me towards the elevator.

"Nice work," she said as she punched a button and the elevator door rumbled open. A gangly, teenaged, boy was the elevator attendant. He blinked in surprise when he saw us.

"Seventh floor," Marie told him after we entered. As the boy worked the control lever and the elevator jerked upwards, Marie gave me a long and appraising look.

"Take off your panties," Marie finally told me. The boy's eyes went wide as he tried to decide if he'd heard correctly.

They went even wider as I did as I was told. When Marie calmly handed him my (very expensive!) underwear, I thought he might have a heart-attack.

The elevator door staggered open. We were on the seventh floor.

Marie gave the operator a wolfish smile. "Stay here," she ordered. "Ignore any other calls and keep the door open. Ignore anything you hear. Do that and I'll have my girlfriend here give you a lesson in female anatomy that will make the peek you just got seem like a day in church. Understand?"

The boy gulped and nodded his head.

"One other thing," Marie continued casually. "Did the guy who rents 7-C come in this morning?"

The boy nodded. "He... he and one of his guys used the alleyway cargo elevator to bring up some equipment. I offered to help, but he gave me a buck and told me to mind my own business. I figured he was doing something shady, but..."

"Smart kid," Marie beamed as she brushed a finger along the side of the boy's face. He was attractive in a long-faced and slightly unkempt sort of way. She was becoming alarmingly interested in him.

"Which way is 7-C?" I asked quickly.

"Around the corner, to the right," the boy answered shakily. Marie was still touching him, he still had my panties one hand, and he seemed utterly mesmerized as he looked into Marie's eyes.

I gave Marie a tentative pull - half expecting to get the back of her hand in response.

Instead, Marie just smiled and turned away from the boy. She put a hand on my ass and gave me an encouraging squeeze.

---

The name of the former renter was still on the shaded-glass door of suite 7-C.

I had a psychic shield up and around Marie and myself. Hopefully, Essex was distracted. Otherwise, I couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't psychically spot us. The man was startlingly powerful.

Marie took her revolver out of her purse and cocked the hammer. Then she gently tried to open the door, but it was locked.

Marie frowned. I was about to whisper the suggestion that perhaps she could pick the lock, when instead she shot off the doorknob and kicked the door open.

That works, too.

---

My ears were ringing from the sound of a shot in such an enclosed space.

The thug who had survived the shoot-out with me was standing next to the door. The roar of the shot stunned him for a vital split-second. Then Marie slashed open his throat with the claws of her non-gun hand. Blood cascaded down the front of the thug's coat as he staggered away, vainly trying to hold his shredded throat together.

Essex was inside. He instantly lashed out at us psychically. I threw everything I had into defense and barely managed to parry him.

Marie leveled her gun at Essex, but just before he pulled the trigger, her arm jerked off to the side and her shot went wild. That was Essex' doing, but he had to drop the intensity of his psychic assault in order to so precisely target Marie's nervous system. I quickly slid past Marie and off to the side - if I could get a good look at Essex, my attack would be much more effective. By striking at him on two levels, psychic and physical, Marie and I should be able to defeat him.

In order to get a better vantage, I had to step over the thug who was bleeding to death on the floor. Fortunately, that part of the office was carpeted, so the floor wasn't too slippery. Through an open door, I could see Essex standing in the examination room. His right shoulder and upper-arm were bandaged - a reminder of our last encounter. Jean was with him. She was on the examination table, with her eyes peacefully closed, and an anesthetic mask over her lower face. Her clothes had been removed and a tray of dissection instruments was nearby. In the background, I could see Elizabeth Ross and Bruce Banner. They were slumped unconscious on the floor, obviously hand-cuffed together.

Roaring in rage, Marie dropped her gun, extended her claws, and lunged for Essex. I did everything I could to keep Essex busy as Marie closed with him.

Then a third figure appeared from out of the side of the examination room and blocked Marie's furious attack. It was a slender black woman dressed in common street clothes, but her fingertips were tipped with long claws. Her face was contorted into a snarl as she smashed into Marie and knocked her backwards. Blood seemed to flare between her and Marie as they savagely clawed at one another.

Keeping my attention on Essex, I snatched up Marie's revolver. However, I must have let my concentration waver, because a sledgehammer of psychic force suddenly slammed into me. The only reason that Essex didn't kill me then and there was because I hastily snap-fired a shot in his direction. He flinched away, but their was still a gap in my defenses. And Marie was tangled up with that woman...

Then someone came in through the door behind me - the one Marie had shot open. He stupidly decided not to simply kill me. Instead, he grabbed the wrist of my gun-hand and struck me on the back of the head with his own pistol. Lights seemed to explode behind my eyes, but I managed to lash my elbow into the face of the man who'd grabbed me. I felt something crunch as he let out a hiss of pain.

"Just shoot her!" Essex roared angrily. Marie took a moment to lean backwards and make a long, back-handed, slash at the thug who was attacking me. The tips of her claws raked across his face and it disappeared in a deluge of blood as three parallel cuts gaped wide.

Then Marie turned back to the woman - the girl actually - that she was fighting. Essentially the girl had lost her fight with Marie, but she had incredible endurance was still keeping Marie busy.

Meanwhile, my mental defenses were rapidly crumbling under Essex' assault. That blow to the head was making it almost impossible to concentrate.

We were losing. But I still had a card to play.

*Jean!* I called out desperately.

*Jean! Help!*

*JEAN! WAKE UP!*

And then there was a flare of red and yellow light...

---

The top three floors of the office building were burning merrily as fire-trucks flooded into the area. A large and eager crowd of rubber-neckers were watching the show, hoping to see someone dead or dying or in pain.

Really, human beings are such utter trash.

Marie, Jean, and I were sitting on a bus-stop bench, well down the street from the fire. Jean was wearing my coat, with her bare calves and feet sticking out from under its hem. Marie had her coat wrapped around both of us. The young woman who had been fighting Marie was sitting on the opposite side of Jean. She had a policeman's uniform jacket around her shoulders - it served to conceal her shredded, blood-stained, clothes. She was blank-faced as she stared out at nothing.

There was something about the girl's face... in just the right light you could see a tracery of fine scars winding along the contours of her flesh. Her hands and the exposed parts of her legs had the same pattern.

She was more a victim than a villain; a Haitian girl that Essex had "rescued" from a life of poverty and made into his personal servant. He had rewarded her loyal service by using her as an experimental animal. The only reason she was alive was because of the enhancements he'd built into her. At the moment, I was keeping her under strict psychic control.

Betty Ross and Bruce Banner were on the sidewalk behind us, still unconscious and leaning up against the building foundation. A pair of fireman were attending to them.

"What happened?" Jean asked dazedly. We'd barely managed to get her, Banner and Ross, the Haitian girl - her name was Simone, and the elevator operator - his name was Otis, out of the building. With us sounding the warning, both verbally and psychically, the bystanding tenants and building workers were able to evacuate in time.

"It's fine," I said, taking Jean by the hand.

"What do you remember?" Marie asked. Marie was back to normal, but she looked more than a little distraught. Part of that was embarrassment, of course, but most of it was due to the shock of what she'd seen.

Jean frowned. "Nothing much. We went to Banner's lab with Dr. Essex. Then I got dizzy. Betty collapsed. Bruce looked sick. And Essex was just watching us like we were some kind of experiment. I called you for help, but then everything went black."

"Anything else?" I asked carefully, keeping my thoughts as strictly controlled as possible.

Jean shook her head. "Just bits and pieces. Maybe hallucinations? I think I woke up a little when I was being carried into the building. There was an alley and an elevator... And later on I think I heard your voice. You were in trouble and calling for help."

"Anything after that?" Marie asked softly.

Jean paused for a long moment, her eyes staring out at nothing.

Then she eventually spoke.

"There was a fire," she said slowly. "And... and... something. Something like a hawk calling. But it was loud. Very loud. And there was a fight and I helped you and Marie. Betty and Bruce were there, and I helped them, too. I didn't want them to be sick anymore."

Jean ground to a shivering, dazed, halt. I pulled her to me and she rested her head on my shoulder.

"I'm so tired," she whispered.

"Go back to sleep," I told her quietly.

"Please," Marie said shakily. "Please, sugar, just go back to sleep."

Jean hugged me and closed her eyes.

---

It was three days since Essex had died.

"This isn't possible," Bruce Banner told me.

"So you keep saying," I responded. It was about the fifth time Banner had said that. It was getting more than a little tiresome.

We were in Banner's laboratory - a place with no good memories for me. Banner had been staring into a powerful-looking microscope when I entered.

As always, Banner was scrawny and pale, but he still looked better than I'd ever seen.

One particular lab table was obviously seeing a great deal of use. The rest of the lab was neatly organized, but the table where Banner was seated was a storm of loose equipment, vials of blood and other liquids, oddly blinking lights, strange-smelling substances brewing in oddly-shaped glassware, papers, magazines, and books. All haphazardly scattered about.

"I keep saying it because it's true," Banner replied with an irritated shrug.

Apparently, Elizabeth and Banner's condition - caused long ago by their exposure to exotic radiations - had been cured. Banner liked to use the term "remission".

"Dr. Banner, there is an old saying about looking a gift horse in the mouth," I suggested calmly.

Banner rubbed his eyes and yawned enormously. "I know! I know, Miss Frost. And believe me, nobody is more grateful than me for what's happened. But I'm a scientist. And as a scientist, I have no idea how Dr. Essex did this."

I smiled placidly. "So you don't remember anything after he kidnapped you and Elizabeth?"

He shrugged. "Not really. I made the mistake of allowing Dr. Essex into my laboratory... and then Betty and I woke up in the hospital. The police said we were found near the scene of a fire that burned down an office building. Some firemen apparently rescued us."

I'd distributed enough cash to the various public servants involved to make sure that the story of Banner and Elizabeth's discovery would never be more clear than that. I was pleased to see that I was getting my money's worth.

Banner subsided as he stared morosely at his altar to science. It was apparently devoid of inspiration.

"By the way," he asked eventually. "How is Miss Grey? Betty called to see how she was doing and said they talked. She was apparently quite confused about what happened to her."

"Dr. Essex left her here in your lab," I lied with easy grace. "He apparently wasn't interested in her. She is quite happy to hear that you and Elizabeth are better."

Banner nodded thoughtfully as he rubbed the stubble on his chin. Something about that didn't make sense to him.

"Is something wrong, Dr. Banner?" I asked.

He frowned. "No. Not really. I just keep having this dream..."

Then he stopped.

"What kind of dream?" I asked carefully, trying to keep my words light and seemingly meaningless - just mere womanly chatter.

Then Banner grimaced. "Nothing that matters. That gas Essex used on us must have a mildly hallucinatory component."

"What kind of dream?" I repeated. This time I wasn't asking.

Banner's eyes seemed to go out of focus.

"I'm drifting," he said distractedly. "Everything around me is darkness, but I somehow know Betty is with me. And then, out of the darkness, a great bird of fire approaches. It's magnificent and frightening and I'm sure it will devour us both. But at the last moment, just as it gets near to us, it transforms into a woman. In fact, it transforms into Miss Grey. She's both naked and covered in flames, but she's not actually burning. She tells me not to be frightened - that she's there to help. She kisses me on the forehead. Then she kisses Betty."

Then Banner fell silent. He was still staring out at nothing.

"It was just a dream," I told him. "Go ahead and forget it."

"Yes," Banner said softly, his eyes still blank. "Forget it..."

Then he snapped awake.

"Oh," he said in mild embarrassment. "My apologies, Miss Frost. I must have dozed for a second. I've been at this for some time."

I graciously nodded my head. "I understand completely, Dr. Banner. I'll leave you to your work."

He smiled and shook his head. "Actually, I'm getting nowhere. I'll clean up and head home. Betty is going to kill me if I don't start celebrating our good luck - instead of just being puzzled by it."

I said my goodbyes and left.

I estimated it would take Banner an hour or two to clean up his lab. That would be more than enough time to pay a quick visit to Elizabeth and make sure she also didn't have any inconvenient memories.

---

I was done with Elizabeth and Banner, and had returned home.

By then, it was late afternoon. Jean was still recuperating, but she made a point of missing as few classes as possible. So she was at school and I had the apartment to myself.

Larry called and told me I had a visitor. I told him to send her up.

Simone answered the door, admitted Marie, and then took her coat and got her settled.

When I entered the den, Marie was seated in the leather easy chair, with a drink in her hand, as she and Simone chatted amiably in French. Until Simone and Marie met, I hadn't known that Marie could speak the language. However, I must say that both she and Simone have atrocious regional accents.

Simone was Essex' former serving girl. For two people who'd once made a serious effort to kill each other, she and Marie were getting along rather well.

After also serving me a drink. Simone quietly left the room, closing the door behind her so we would have some privacy. She was an excellently-mannered maid. Say what you will about Essex - 'burn in hell' comes immediately to mind - but he knew how to train servants.

"How's Simone doing?" Marie asked me. "She seems okay."

I nodded. "Essex kept a tight psychic hold on her. Jean and I have undone the mind control and helped her get through the worst of the memories. At the moment, she's just frightened and confused and wants some stability in her life. Having spent all her life as a servant, she's most comfortable staying with us. Once she's fully recovered, I'll give her the option of staying or leaving. Actually, I'm hoping she stays. Her cooking is unsophisticated, but otherwise superb."

Marie seemed relieved by what I'd said.

"What about Bruce and Elizabeth?" I asked, carefully keeping my face guileless.

Marie's face brightened. "They're fine! Bruce thinks Essex did something to them, and he's going out of his mind trying to figure out what it was. He keeps saying it's scientifically impossible for them both to have been cured so quickly and completely."

"He's right," I said with a careful shrug.

Marie nodded in agreement. Then there was an awkward pause as she tried to say something that was particularly important to her.

"I'm sorry," Marie finally said, her voice tense with nervousness.

"For what?" I responded with a raised eyebrow.

Marie winced. "Well... how about for repeatedly molesting you in public and then making you partially strip for the kid in the elevator? Then shooting my way into Essex' office without the slightest trace of a plan, and almost getting us killed? I was way out of line and I understand if you're mad at me."

That made me laugh. "Marie, I'm hardly a blushing maiden, and I know what happened to you and why! And no plan we could have made would have resulted in anything other than a vicious, dangerous, fight. But tell you what, the next time you absorb too much of Logan, pay me a visit. I'll provide the handcuffs and a suitable array of toys. We'll make a day of it - you really do have a remarkable talent for dominance. It's a shame you only let it out under such rare circumstances."

Marie gave me a long, steady, look. Then she said, "If I could only figure out how much of your princess-pervert routine is real and how much is just for show..."

I chuckled as I shook my head. "It's all real, Marie. And it's also all for show. Really, if I can't explain it, then what makes you think you can?"

Marie dropped the subject and went on to what was really bothering her. "How's Jean?"

I took a long sip from my drink as I tried to ignore the memory of Essex shrieking like a damned soul as he slowly disintegrated. There isn't even a word for what happened to him, but it had obviously been agonizing. And completely deserved.

Suddenly, I was very serious. "Marie, it's very important that Jean not know what happened."

Marie put down her glass of Scotch. "Okay. You keep saying that and I believe you. But I'm scared."

"You have good reason to be," I told her softly as I swirled the contents of my own drink.

"What's happening to Jean?" Marie asked.

"I don't have an answer for that," I responded. "I just know that the thing in her is powerful and dangerous. And that it has appeared before in human history. The results were almost always catastrophic."

"It saved our asses," Marie pointed out. "And what it did for Elizabeth and Bruce... that was incredible!"

I shook my head. "I can't swear it will always act in our service."

"Why?" Marie asked bluntly.

"Marie," I said softly, "the Phoenix is partially Jean and partially something else. What happens if Jean loses control to the other aspect of the Phoenix? You know what it's like to not be in full control of your actions."

Thankfully, Marie wasn't offended by my words. Instead, she just considered them carefully.

"What does she remember?" She eventually asked.

I sighed. "Apparently not much, and she's not inclined to investigate any closer. I think that's for the best."

"How do we help her?" Marie continued. You didn't have to be a psychic to sense the aura of determination around her. Marie is really a remarkable woman. And I'll lobotomize anyone who lets her know that I feel that way.

"We'll be her friends," I replied. "And we'll do the best we can for her."

Marie thought about that. Then she nodded.

---

In the aftermath, there were other things that had to be done.

The old man in the restaurant? The one who was considering suicide? Detective Tanner got to him just in time. The old man now regularly plays chess with Logan's fallen doctor. They talk about love, loss, and the mistakes they've made. The experience is doing them both a great deal of good. I was actually quite pleased with Detective Tanner's quick handling of the situation. While Jean was recovering, I gave him a particularly severe flogging. He was sobbingly grateful.

The girl who was being threatened by her step-brother is now living in a better home. Her father and step-mother recently divorced under circumstances that were financially quite disagreeable to the step-mother.

The man with a taste for young boys? Those urges are under control again.

The former soldier, haunted by his war that never ends? With a little help, he found a group of veterans who've had similar experiences. He now has others to talk to.

Otis the elevator boy? He kept his elevator waiting and then helped us rescue the others. After that, he ran through the building, doing his brave best to warn the tenants about the fire. Let's just say that I rewarded him very well for his exemplary service. After all, I couldn't ignore the promise Marie had made to him.

If any of that surprises you... well, there is little I can say to that.

I'm Emma Frost. I know everyone, but nobody really knows me.