Chapter 9: Frost and Iron
Peter Parker's gaze lingered on his reflection in the mirror. He looked dashing in his tuxedo, a black tie perfectly knotted and shiny shoes. "This looks good, thank you Mortifex," he said.
"Thank you, my lord," Mortifex replied, his voice dripping with something Peter couldn't quite place—sarcasm or genuine deference, he wasn't sure. "Your opinion on fashion means the world to me, my lord." Peter eyed the valet of shadows suspiciously, wondering if there was a hint of mockery in the demon's voice.
Satana let out a tinkling laugh. "I'm glad that you and Mortifex are getting along," she said with a beaming smile. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and frowned. Her garb was made of black leather armor etched with luminous red runes and a diadem of rose gold embedded with rubies. "No Pyrastra," Satana declared. "It's a mortals' gathering. We talked about this."
"Incompetent girl," Mortifex sneered.
Satana and Mortifex were discussing a small flickering flame that floated in the air near Satana. As it engulfed her, her crown and armor were replaced by a floor-length deep burgundy gown. She studied her reflection critically. "Better, but I think it needs to be off the shoulder. And matching heels, please." A few more flames flickered around Satana.
"She seems pretty capable," Peter remarked, glancing down at his cufflinks with a faint spider web design. "Could you swap these cufflinks for something else? I have a secret identity, after all."
"Peter, the time for hiding is over," Satana said, locking eyes with him in the mirror. She turned to face him. "Our enemies should be the ones who hide from us." She studied him for a moment and then raised her hand, wiggling her fingers at him. He looked back in the mirror. He was now wearing a tailored dark blue pinstripe suit with a deep burgundy tie - the same color as Satana's dress.
Mortifex sighed. "A suit for an evening event," he began
"Is approved by me," Satana cut in.
"Of course, Your Highness," Mortifex said quickly. "A brilliant choice."
Satana ignored him, and returned to examining herself in the mirror. "Make it a mermaid dress with a thigh slit," she commanded, and flames flickered around her again.
Peter shot a sympathetic glance at the valet and sat down; it seemed they would be there for a while. Mortifex offered him a martini, which he accepted. Pyrastra, Satana's demonic maid, shifted into her humanoid form—a woman with skin like burning lava and eyes like coals that occasionally emitted gouts of flame. She hovered in the air beside Satana and cast Mortifex an evil look. Peter wondered why Pyrastra didn't set the suite on fire and decided this must have been more demonic magic. He was getting so used to this...
There was a long silence as Satana studied herself in the mirror. Everyone paused, then Satana said, "I don't like the earrings or the clutch; let's try again." Peter sighed and sat back, taking a sip of his martini.
As Satana and Peter stepped out of the sleek black limousine, a flurry of camera flashes lit up the night. Satana looked dazzling in her burgundy gown, while Peter adjusted his silk tie under the glare of the paparazzi.
"Why are they photographing us?" Peter asked.
"I achieved a certain notoriety from my association with the Thunderbolts," Satana said. "You were a CEO who failed spectacularly, and people enjoy reading about wealthy men brought low."
Peter frowned, digging through his memory. "Wasn't Doc Ock trying to ruin my business?"
"Yes, that would be Doctor Octopus," Satana confirmed, her eyes narrowing. "You realize he has to be eliminated."
Satana and Peter stepped into the grand entryway, taking in the atmosphere of luxury. The walls were adorned with golden accents, and a live orchestra played soft jazz from a stage in the corner. Chandeliers hung overhead, glimmering in the light.
"No," Peter said firmly. "I don't realize that at all." He studied her carefully, "Are you teasing me?" Satana smiled as she took Peter's arm, leading him through the crowd of guests towards their table.
The other patrons turned to watch them with admiration, muttering comments about their style and poise. Soon enough Satana and Peter arrived at their destination—a corner booth near the edge of the dance floor. Satana slid into her seat, careful not to disrupt her dress, while Peter took his place opposite her.
"So many familiar faces," Peter commented. "It's strange to think that no one knows me—but kind of nice." He glanced at Satana, "I'm not sure I like being in the public eye."
"It's unavoidable," Satana shrugged. "Power attracts attention. The little people like to see their leaders—it reassures them."
"Uhm, I used to be one of the little people," Peter replied. "In fact, I still am."
"Oh my love," Satana shook her head, "that life is far behind you. It's best you realize that. Just watch me and imitate."
Tony Stark and Emma Frost descended the stairs gracefully, looking elegant in their eveningwear. The crowd hushed as a spotlight followed each of their movements. "Oh, they are in love," Satana said wistfully. "You can see it." She watched the engaged couple with an affectionate smile on her face. Peter watched her admiringly. She's really kind and loving, he thought to himself. You just have to know what to look for.
Tony's booming voice echoed throughout the room. "My dearest friends, thank you for joining us tonight to celebrate our union." He lovingly gazed at Emma Frost and continued, "I must sound trite when I say that I have finally found true love." He raised his glass in a toast. "Here's to love, laughter, and everlasting joy," he declared, beaming at Emma who smiled back warmly. The crowd clapped and cheered as the toast quickly transformed into music and dancing.
As couples spun around the floor, servers circulated with trays of canapés and champagne. Voices chattered excitedly as friends caught up with each other while old acquaintances were reunited. Peter waived to a waiter with a tray of canapés and then stopped. Satana was looking at him.
"Care for a dance, my love?" Peter's voice was soft, almost a whisper. Satana's eyes sparkled as she extended her hand. A moment later, they were twirling about the dancefloor. Satana was a fantastic dancer, and Peter was much better than he remembered.
"This," Satana sighed contentedly, "this is what I wanted."
"Happy love?" Peter asked smiling down at her lovingly.
"Yes, very," she purred and nestled into him.
Across the room, a small group watched.
"Can you believe this?" Patsy Walker, a slender redhead in a shimmery royal blue cocktail dress asked.
Topaz, a breathtaking Indian woman in a flowy floor-length gold gown, nodded and grinned. "Satana seems to be quite taken with her newest conquest. It's good to see her enjoying herself."
Blade, a tall, powerfully built African American man wearing a tailored black suit with a crisp white shirt, shrugged. "He looks kind of nerdy," he said, "but if she's happy, who cares?"
"But that's Satana Hellstrom," Patsy exclaimed. "And she's glowing. She doesn't do that kind of happy."
The dance ended and Patsy waved at Satana, who brought Peter over. "Peter," Satana said, gesturing to the three of them, "these are my friends – Patsy, Topaz, and Blade. Everyone, this is Peter Parker: my husband."
"Husband," Patsy said hesitantly.
"Congratulations!" Topaz exclaimed, her eyes filled with joy.
"Thank you," Satana and Peter replied in unison.
"Do I know you?" Blade quizzed Peter. "You look familiar."
"We haven't met," Peter answered. "I'm sure I'd remember you if we had."
"You're a photographer, aren't you?" Patsy asked. "I remember seeing you at some modeling events."
"Yes, that was me," Peter said. "That was a while back. I worked for the Daily Bugle back then."
"What an exquisite ring," Topaz said, admiring Satana's hand. "Still, it's surprising. You always seemed so independent before."
"Love changes everything," Satana smiled.
"It definitely does," Peter said, his eyes locking onto Satana's. "I never thought I'd be this happy...but I am."
Patsy smiled at them. "Well, it's always good to see someone happy. Especially you, Satana—you've had a difficult journey."
Satana's smile faded for a moment before she shook her head. "Yes, but that's all in the past now. I'm complete with Peter by my side."
The music started playing again and Satana glanced towards Peter. "That's my cue," he said. "Excuse us." He escorted his wife back onto the dance floor.
"Wow," Patsy said as they left. "Just wow."
"It's wonderful," Topaz marveled. "Satana has found her person. That gives us all hope."
Blade furrowed his brow and watched the couple heading to the dance floor, his heightened senses honing in on something peculiar. "That Parker guy smells just like Spider-Man," he remarked.
"What?" Patsy exclaimed.
"But isn't he dead?" Topaz asked.
"No, he just vanished a few months back," Blade stated, his voice low. "Folks assumed he was dead, because in this line of work, disappearing usually means you're a goner. But apparently, he got married instead." The vampire hunter shrugged and took a deep swig from his beer.
"Well isn't this a night full of pleasant news!" Topaz declared cheerfully.
"Spider-Man," Patsy mused thoughtfully. She grabbed Blade's arm and pulled him towards the dance floor.
"I don't dance," Blade grumbled.
"You do now," Patsy said firmly as she dragged him away. Blade was a surprisingly good dancer—though a bit rusty—which Patty had suspected as he occasionally made comments that suggested a background in music. His steps kept them near Peter and Satana, who danced as if they were in their own little world
"They're clearly smitten," Blade noted, his eyes narrowing as he turned to Patsy. "What's eating you? This isn't about your ex, is it?"
"Maybe," Patsy admitted. "All this, the disappearance, sudden marriage, people acting weird, it just feels demonic somehow."
"Well, she's part demon right?" Blade asked. "Anyhow, she isn't her brother."
"That's part of it," Patsy said slowly. "She's not. Damien has always been the good one."
Across the room, Steve Rogers, Luke Cage and Carol Danvers were having a private conversation.
"I'm just saying," Mayor Cage said, "that this engagement is going to put people on edge. People are already nervous about the mutant situation, and Stark marrying into the Krakoan leadership is going to make things worse. Especially with Feilong stirring things up."
"People should be able to marry whomever they choose," Carol replied. "It's a basic right."
"Totally agree," Cage concurred. "But if they could just tone it down—at least until the situation calms."
"Is it the mutants or Spider-Man?" Rogers inquired.
"Both," Luke Cage said. "People acted like they didn't like Spider-Man, but now that he's dead, everyone's upset. It's like he was the city's good luck mascot."
"I don't think Spider-Man is dead," Steve Rogers said. "Call it a hunch. But he'll be back."
"I hope you're right," Carol said. "None of his enemies are bragging about killing him."
"The smart ones wouldn't," Luke declared. "Still, I hope the little guy turns up. I've got a hunch something's going to happen. With the Hellfire Gala coming up, Feilong and Stark facing off, and this too- something is likely to explode."
"No matter what happens," Steve Rogers said confidently, "you can count on us, Mayor."
"I'll hold you to that," Mayor Cage said thoughtfully. He stared out across the dance floor. "Hmm, Satana Hellstrom, girl cleans up nice. Who's she dancing with?"
"I don't know," Carol said. "Wait, isn't he a photographer?"
"You look lovely too, Carol," Steve said.
"Thank you, Steve," Carol replied with a smile. She stared intently into his eyes and continued, "Would you care to dance?"
Steve was taken aback by her request. "Are you asking me to dance?"
"Yes, that happens now," Carol informed him, gently taking his hand as she led him towards the floor. "Besides, you didn't say 'no'..."
After the next dance, Satana and Peter ended up near Tony Stark and Emma Frost's table. As the crowd around them had begun to thin, Satana tugged on Peter's arm to join them.
"Hello Fire," Emma said with a warm smile.
"Hi Ice," Satana replied. "And congratulations!"
Emma hopped up from her seat and the two women embraced in a hug, both giggling together before separating. Peter was baffled, as he'd never seen Satana giggle in front of anyone else. Emma gestured for them to take seats then the two began admiring each other's rings and talking about their fiancés/husbands.
"Hi Mr. Stark," Peter said. "I covered your company for the Bugle a few times, though I doubt you remember me."
"Parker Industries," Tony replied. "It's Tony, by the way. You had some interesting ideas that were worth considering. I was sorry to see you go under like that. If you're ever looking to re-enter the game, don't hesitate to give me a call."
"Tony's isn't investing much anymore," Emma said. "He's in reduced circumstances and living in a taxi repair shop."
"I haven't lost everything," Tony said. "Besides," he leaned over to Peter with a mischievous glint in his eye, "I've recently landed this heiress, you see. Soon I'll be back on top again. Access to billions. So talk to me."
"I can hear you, you know," Emma told him with a fond smile. She turned towards Peter. "Satana says that you've been having some memory issues. I offered to help."
"Thank you," Peter said gratefully. "I didn't know you were a therapist."
"Oh I'm not," Emma replied. "I'm a telepath."
"Not now," Satana interjected. "It's your party—we're staying in town. There's plenty of time for that later."
"But I'm curious about the man who landed you," Emma laughed, leaning forward to examine Peter.
"You know sweetheart," Tony said, "you could always ask if he'd like his thoughts read." Emma smiled at him and gave his hand a gentle pat. Then she redirected her attention back to Peter.
"Oh, we've met before," Emma declared.
"We have?" Peter said, his brow furrowing in thought. "I don't remember."
"Kingpin was trying to assassinate a little girl," Emma said. "You helped Elektra and I rescue her." Painful memories flashed through Peter's mind, before he felt a cool, calming sensation envelope him. He remembered now.
"Don't think about it," Emma urged. She looked up. A line of people were gathering to congratulate the happy couple. Emma sighed. "I need to see you soon," she told Satana. "Tomorrow morning soon."
"We're at the Four Seasons," Satana said. Emma nodded and looked at Peter again. "Make tonight an early evening," she told Satana.
Peter was feeling disoriented, so Satana guided him back to their table. Just as they sat down, Patsy and Blade walked up.
"Hey there! Mind if we join you?" Patsy asked and promptly took a seat. Blade awkwardly stood for a moment before settling down beside her.
"Actually, Peter isn't feeling well and we're about to leave," Satana answered.
"Oh no," Patsy said. "I wanted to catch up with Peter. I wanted to talk to him about spidery issues."
"Great," Peter groaned. "Just like that, everyone knows."
"I have heightened senses and recognized you," Blade said. "Sorry, I said anything. I was just surprised because we thought you were dead."
"That's right," Patsy said. "You disappeared and everyone thought you were dead. People were really upset."
"I'm sorry," Peter replied. "I've kind of lost track of time."
"Of course, you were getting married," Patsy said. "Tell me about the wedding - when, where - all the details."
"Only Patsy and Topaz heard," Blade informed Peter. "Topaz is cool. Patsy is usually cool," he eyed the diminutive redhead, "although she's a little off tonight. But she knows how to keep a secret."
"Thanks," Peter told him. He looked back at Patty. "My wedding...I don't actually remember."
"You don't remember your wedding?" Patsy said. "How very strange." She turned and glared at Satana. Peter winced in pain and clutched his head. Satana pressed her fingers against Peter's temples and began murmuring under her breath. Her fingers glowed and Peter slumped in his chair, unconscious.
"What the hell?" Patsy said. "What the hell was that?"
"Cease this at once, Patsy Walker," Satana's voice was a low growl, "or I'll make you wish for a death you can't escape."
"I'm not stopping until I find out what you're up to," Patsy replied. "Something about this stinks."
"Wait," Blade said, "she loves him, they love each other. Patsy, we saw that."
"I will not answer," Satana said, "to one of my brother's cast off slatterns."
"When I left your brother," Patsy began, "I spent months crawling through hell. Most of that time was spent dealing with one particular demon. I learned to recognize him, and recognize his mental signature, with my own mental powers."
"Your mental powers," Satana sniffed.
"The mental imprint all over Peter—it's unmistakable. It's Mephisto, and that's a signature I'd never forget."
Satana froze. Patsy looked at her and laughed. "You should see the look on your face," she said.