Jon stepped out of her bath, and the rose scented water slid slowly down the curves of her alabaster skin. As her foot touched the tile floor, Birtha came bubbling up from the tub and slithered along beside her mistress. Steam rose off the heated tiles as the water from the tub evaporated from her skin, and by the time she stepped onto the deep plush carpeting of her dressing room, she was almost dry. As Nytshade: the White Queen of the International Hellfire Club, Jon was accustomed to every luxury, and before she could even ring for her servants, they were in the room with the softest, fluffiest towels that money could buy. As the handsome young man and woman dabbed the remaining water from her skin, she basked in the glow of her own power. She watched the young man's knotted muscles move under the tight white shirt of his uniform. The man felt her gaze on him and she could see the redness appear in his cheeks.
"See something you like?" Jon questioned coyly as she arched her back and stretched languidly in her nakedness.
The silence remained and the youth's blush deepened as the two servants continued to use their ever so gentle hands to pamper the flesh of the White Queen. Jon had grown accustomed to being served in this manner and found nothing strange in the attention the two beautiful young servants gave her body. The young man began to rub scented oils onto Jon's shoulders as the woman went to her wardrobe to retrieve her robe. Jon reached out gently and traced a line along the jaw of the broad shouldered youth that was applying the oil to her legs.
"Do you enjoy your duties, here?......Eric, isn't it?" she said huskily.
"Yes, ma'am," the male servant said as he moved to her legs to continue his massage. "I enjoy them a great deal."
Jon's gaze leisurely swept over the lad. He was 22 at the oldest, with broad shoulders and powerful arms. His tight house servant trousers accentuated his V-shaped waist and muscled legs.
"Yes," Jon thought, "this one deserved some personal attention."
Her thoughts were broken by the return of the female servant. The dark haired young beauty wore the short white dress of all of Jon's female servants. Her slippers carried her with the grace that only youth can afford. Jon noticed the slight scowl on the face of the young girl as she spoke.
"Eric, I'll finish here....you go and get the mistress's tea," the young girl said coldly.
"So these two were lovers," the voice in Jon's mind said sarcastically. "How sweet!"
The male servant rushed embarassedly out as the girl continued to rub the rose scented oil into Jon's ankles and feet. Jon allowed the young girl to slip the robe on her and sat back down. She reached out her arm and her pet rattlesnake slid it's way down her extended hand to her lap where it sat coiled and silent. After finishing her tasks on the legs, the young servant girl continued on to Jon's hair. She ran the ancient jade comb through Jon's shoulder length platinum blonde tresses. As she did, Jon nudged Birtha slightly with her finger causing the snake to let out a soft low rattle from its tail. The young servant jerked reflexively, and thus pulled the comb a little roughly through Nytshade's hair. Jon let out a small cry as her hair was tugged and the snake shot out like lightning....jaws open...hissing fiercely. They young woman jerked away just in time as Birtha's fangs sank into the soft flesh of Jon's neck. In response, Jon let out a startled cry of her own that soon turned into almost a soft moan of ecstatic pleasure. The young servant looked on in frightened silence as Jon's hand slowly stroked the coiled scales of her pet and it dislodged its jaws from her neck. The young woman turned to flee, but Nytshades' hand shot out and grabbed the young girl's arm in a steely grip.
"Careful, child, the snake is a beautiful but deadly creature," Jon cooed as her nails dug into the soft flesh of the girl's arm. "Beware the charms that hide the serpent's teeth and never stray into it's territory or try to take what is hers."
The young woman managed to pull away and Jon looked at her through slitted eyes as she ran her fingers through her now almost-dry hair. The White Queen lifted her hair up and exposed the area of her neck where the snake had attacked. Where once there was an angry redness surrounding two distinct puncture marks, now there was only smooth white creamy skin.
"I'm sorry mistress," the servant almost cried.
"See that you are more careful in the future, pretty one," Jon said, "or I'll see to it that you are put on feeding detail for Birtha. She does so love young people for guests at her dinner."
Just then another servant came rushing in without knocking. Jon who was already in a foul mood caught the unwary lad in the chest with a mystic bolt and dropped him to his knees.
"What gives you the audacity to enter my quarters without being summoned? Answer now, boy. What I gave you was just a taste of what I can do," she said.
"Mistress," the servant wheezed. "One of your students...the one called WildChild.....has gone missing and this was found in the last place he was seen."
The White Queen reached down disdainfully and snatched the small bundle away from the frightened servant. She opened the small piece of silk up and realized it was a man's pocket handkerchief. As she unfolded it, she recognized the house crest of the Black Hellfire Club and in the corner...a tiny monogram.....GM..........GREGOR!!!!!!!!!!!
So these images of her past with Gregor had been a warning of things to come.
"Very Well." the White Queen thought. "We'll see who has the last laugh this time."
Gregor stared around the table at the black court. Among them was a traitor, but who could it be? They all sat awaiting Gregor's next comment. Blink had already mentioned Sasha's absence from the school and Gregor's lack of surprise showed that he had been expecting such a situation. The handsome face of Gregor now wore the mantle of leadership of Clarion, the Black King, and all in the room were rightfully silent as he made his next statement.
"You know about Puma's "absence", as well as the little gift I received in my e-mail today. There is no way someone could get onto the grounds or into my computer networks without inside help. One among us is a traitor, and perhaps worse, and I mean to find out who!" Gregor Boomed.
Now was the time for the Black King to make his move. His eyes spun in a predatory gaze around the dark ancient mahogany table. The splendor of the room and it's gold inlaid furniture did little to relieve the tension in the air. Directly to the right of Gregor, sat Nemesis the Black Queen. As usual, she arrived dressed in a jet black evening gown that was undoubtedly an original from a Paris collection. Her dark serene beauty hid fires in the depths of her heart that Gregor only half guessed at. Could she be the one giving out information to depose him as a means to seize power for herself. As a psionic she could more easily influence others, but WHY?
Seated next to her was Rachel Clarice Ferguson known as Blink. Rae, as she was known to her friends was the new Black Princess. Although the position was new, this young woman had been part of the inner circle for several years as a Page. Why would she betray them now? She and Nemesis shared a bond that none among them questioned. Could they be working together to bring down the Black House and set up a new rule. Whispered rumors about this young woman's former alliances to the White House of the Hellfire Club made this option seem more probable, but again, without proof Gregor was powerless. As his gaze shifted again, his paranoia grew.
In the next seat, sat a very disheveled Black Knight. Michael Breslin sat with his head cocked to one side as he poured himself another snifter of brandy. His rakish blonde hair and arrogant manner gave him an air of defiance even without saying a word, but Gregor thought he could trust this one. His knight had never failed an assignment no matter how questionable the reasons behind it. Havok, as the Black Knight was called, used his taloned hands and bio-electric blasts without hesitation, wherever Gregor pointed. Could the hunting dog have learned to betray his master?
Jack Silver, the Black Bishop was the next to fall under Clarion's gaze. Silver's neatly combed grey hair surrounded his handsome youthful face as he stared directly back into Gregor's eyes. If Gregor was the fire and the power behind the engine of the inner circle, then Silver was the oil and lubricants that kept it running smoothly. He was calm and rational and cared little for the power plays made by the others of the group. His main concern was the business matters of the BHC and the politics of keeping the school free of suspicion and above board. In past times, his control over the molecular structure of metals was looked on as a rather useless mutation, but in their recent adventure in another dimension, Silver had proven his worth. Little insight could be shed on what drove a man such as this. Money was just part of being the head of one of the largest pharmacuetical companies in the U.S. Jack Silver, neither flaunted his wealth nor denied it. He was a honest hardworking man, and his membership in the sometimes seedy workings of the inner circle was due in large part to familial lineage, rather than the quest for personal power. Silver's father had once been Black King of the inner circle, but Jack showed little interest in titles or power at all. He was content to handle the business activities of the BHC, and to sit in his seat of Black Bishop. Could jealousy turn a man like this toward trying to dethrone the King? Gregor doubted this, but one had to look for dangers on all sides at times like this.
Next came Rahsas, the Black Pawn. Since his return from Robyyn's realm he seemed a bit distant. Learning that you were from another plane of existence tends to change a person, but could what he learned about his royal heritage be enough to make him try and wrest control away from current leadership. Would this lad use his powers of teleportation, body morphing, and dark magic against the very institution that raised him? The Black King doubted this tall dark youth would try such a dangerous gambit, but one could never tell.
Finally, the last member of the inner circle fell under Gregor's gaze. SuperGrover sat with his blue velvety hands in front of him. His fingers formed a triangle on the table and he appeared to be meditating, as he always was. This soft spoken mutant was the strangest in appearance of all assembled at the table, but there was a nobility about him that made him appear more human than perhaps any of the others as well. Gregor trusted this one implicitly. Grover was always the voice of reason in the raging tempest....the voice of fairness in a world of bigotry. This mutant was considered to be the very paragon of human morals and values. He would never betray his friends. So who was it? Who had kidnapped the Cullen girl and why would one of his own people be helping them?
Gregor scowled openly and stared from face to face. Finally deciding on a course of action, he began to speak.
"Ms. Ferguson, I have heard disquieting rumors that you still held allegiance to the Whites. Should this be proven true, it would cast a huge shadow of guilt on you as to the whereabouts of our missing student. Do you have anything you'd like to say."
As he had spoken Gregor's fist had begun to glow, and all present felt the hair on the backs of their neck stand up. Gregor had been forming a weapon in his hand and with each passing word, the projectile was charged more and more. At it's current level it was probably enough to vaporize Blink should she not be able to avoid it. Blink's eyes looked wildly around the room for help, and she began to stammer.
"Gr...gr....gr..egggor.......What makes you think that I would betray you or do anything to harm Puma. I c..c...couldn't have had anything to do with that." she finished
Just as Gregor was about to speak again. SuperGrover stood up and pushed the hood of his cloak back revealing his velvety blue face. His eyes glowed an eerie yellow color as he surveyed the room.
"If it's a traitor you seek, Gregor..........a clandestine link to the other houses of the Hellfire Club.......then you have found what you seek in me."
Gregor's face fell instantly, and the shock on everyone else's face was just as evident. It was in one slightly blood shot pair of eyes, though, that the most pain was registered. Havok had learned to trust Grover after his initial hatred had burned low, and now to have this trust destroyed was the ultimate in betrayals. Before anyone could say a word, a crackling bio-electric blast flew forth from Havok's hand and struck the strangely calm Grover in the chest.
"TRAITOR!!!!!!" Havok screamed. "I knew not to trust you. You were using us all along."