The winter sun mocks me from a sky so damn blue it hurts to look at. December in Manhattan feels like a colder and louder version of how it was in Boston. There's an edge that cuts through even the fancy jacket Illyana conjured for me this morning.
"Ready for your first day in New York?" Angelica asks, her copper-red hair flickering with tiny flames that dance in the cold breeze. She doesn't need a jacket, her mutation keeps her permanently toasty, which seems like a pretty sweet deal on a day like today.
"As ready as I'll ever be," I reply, tugging the zipper of my new jacket higher. It fits perfectly, of course. Magik's magic is nothing if not precise.
We step out onto the landing, and I hear the heavy thunk of automated metal sliding into place as Angelica locks the door behind us. The sound echoes through the stairwell like a prison gate closing.
"Multiple deadbolts," she explains with a little shrug. "It's a rough neighborhood, after all."
I nod, trying to look like this is all perfectly normal to me. Like I haven't just jumped from a mansion in Westchester to what's essentially a mutant ghetto in the middle of Manhattan.
We descend the stairs and push through the building's front entrance onto a street that's buzzing with almost as much mutant activity as Genosha. People with scales, horns, extra limbs, weird colors, all going about their day like it's nothing special. No one's hiding here. No one's trying to pass as human.
"So," Angelica says as we start walking, her voice casual but with an undercurrent I can't quite place, "you and Illyana were quite... passionate last night."
I didn't think our activities had been that obvious, but apparently, the building's old walls aren't as thick as I'd hoped.
"Oh, sorry about that," I mutter, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly. "I hope I didn't keep you up."
She shakes her head, her fiery hair swirling like a living thing. "No, it's fine. I just..." She hesitates, looking uncomfortable. "Illyana didn't like... force you into anything, right?"
"What? God, no!" The question catches me so off guard that I bark out a laugh. "Why would you think that?"
Angelica's eyes widen slightly, and she bites her lip. "It's just... Illyana is like, kind of a lot older than you."
"What?" I stare at her, confused.
"There's just an age gap," she clarifies, looking uncomfortable. "I wasn't sure if you knew."
"How old is Illyana?"
"Twenty-five," Angelica says, watching me carefully. "You didn't feel obligated because of the power difference, did you?"
I snort, shaking my head. "No, I was just horny." The words come out blunter than I intended, but it's the honest truth.
Angelica's eyebrows shoot up, and the flames in her hair flicker brighter for a second. "Oh. I just... I guess I didn't know you two were that close."
"I barely know Magik at all," I admit with a shrug. "I just wanted something with no strings attached, and she seems to want that too."
Angelica looks genuinely embarrassed now, her cheeks flushing almost as red as her hair.
"What?" she stammers, clearly thrown by my candor. "So if someone like me just walked up to you and was like, 'hey, do you want to bang,' you would have..."
"I mean, yeah, I guess we could bang one out quick in the Target bathroom if you wanted to," I say with a casual shrug, watching her face for a reaction.
Angelica's eyes go wide as dinner plates, the flames in her hair suddenly erupting into a blazing crown that makes a passing mutant with translucent skin duck for cover. Her mouth opens and closes several times, no words coming out, just small choking sounds.
"I… I…" Angelica stammers, her face turning as red as her hair. "That's not what I meant at all!"
We keep walking, her steps quickening like she's trying to physically escape this conversation. After a few moments of awkward silence, she glances at me sideways.
"Did Emma Frost do this to you?" she asks quietly. "Make you so... casual about sex?"
I nearly trip over a crack in the sidewalk. "God, no. If anything, Emma doesn't want me to have sex with anyone besides her."
"You've had sex with Emma Frost?"
"No," I shake my head, watching a guy with blue skin and what looks like coral growing out of his shoulders pass by. "She won't do no strings, and I respect her for it. She knows what she wants and she know's what she's worth."
Angelica's pace slows as she processes this. "So you just want no-strings sex for your own reasons?"
I shove my hands deeper into my pockets, suddenly feeling exposed in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. "Before I was taken in by Xavier, my home life was really, really bad." The words feel like rocks in my mouth, heavy and sharp. "I'm still kind of working through a lot of issues. I want to have sex, but I don't think I'm in a place for a relationship."
She frowns, her flames dimming slightly. "Why put yourself through all the needless drama of having sex though? Is this like... an addiction thing?"
"No, it's..." I trail off, not knowing how to respond.
Before I can think of anything, there's a flash of movement and the sickening sound of glass shattering against Angelica's face. She yelps in pain and surprise, her hands flying to where blood is suddenly streaming from multiple cuts.
"What the fuck!" I spin around to see a group of people across the street, signs in their hands with slogans like "GET MUTANTS OUT" and "PROTECT HUMAN JOBS." A woman at the front, her face twisted with hatred, has her arm still extended from throwing the bottle.
Without thinking, I grab Angelica's arm and activate my power, focusing on pulling her injuries into myself. I hear the glass shards push out of her skin as I absorb the wounds, the cuts transferring to my face. It stings, but I can already feel my healing factor kicking in, sealing the lacerations.
"Come on, let's go," Angelica tugs at my sleeve, her voice urgent.
I shake her off, rage boiling through me as I spot the woman who threw the bottle. She's got her phone out now, filming us while her little hate group screams obscenities.
"No, fuck that," I snarl, taking a step toward them. My fists clench at my sides as I imagine showing her exactly what it feels like to have glass embedded in her face.
"Don't!" Angelica grabs me forcefully, pulling me back. "You'll just end up on the news!"
"Let them see what happens when they attack us!" I shout, loud enough for the protesters to hear. The wounds on my face have already closed, but I can feel blood drying on my skin.
"Jack, please," Angelica's voice drops to a desperate whisper. "This is exactly what they want. A violent mutant reaction they can use as propaganda."
"Yeah, get the fuck out of here, you dog!" one of the protesters yells, his face contorted in disgust. "Walk away while you still can!"
I jerk my arm out of Angelica's grip, the rage burning hotter in my chest. "No, I don't fucking care," I growl, taking another step toward them.
Then it happens, like someone dumped a bucket of cool water over the inferno of my anger. A sudden wave of calm washes through me, so abrupt that I stumble slightly.
'Jack, don't.'
The voice in my head is crisp, and unmistakable.
'Emma?' I think, blinking in confusion as the manufactured serenity continues to spread through my limbs.
'Hello, darling,' her mental voice purrs, and I can practically see her smug smile even though she's miles away.
'You can reach me this far away?' I wonder, still staring at the protesters but no longer feeling that overwhelming urge to rearrange their faces.
'I'm using Cerebro, just wanted to check in...' There's a pause, and I feel her presence strengthening in my mind. 'Listen, I'm calming you down. Just go to Target with Firestar like you were planning. Don't fight the humans. If I were there I could make them all shit their pants, but I'm not, so this is the best I can do for you.'
The artificial tranquility is bizarre but effective. My heartbeat slows, my breathing evens out, and I feel almost high on this manufactured peace.
'Okay,' I think back, surprised at how easily I'm accepting her intervention. But it feels so damn good to have this rage lifted off my shoulders, even if just temporarily.
I turn away from the protesters, my movements slow and deliberate as I walk back to Angelica. Her eyes widen as she watches me approach, confusion evident on her face.
"Jack? Are you okay?" she asks, studying me with concern.
"I'm fine," I say, my voice unnaturally level. "Let's just go to Target like we planned."
"I'm proud of you, Jack," Angelica says, relief washing over her features as she places a gentle hand on my arm.
"It wasn't me," I say, the words coming out as calm as a yoga instructor guiding a meditation session. "It's Emma. She's in my head right now."
"What?" Angelica's eyebrows shoot up so high they almost disappear into her flaming hairline. Her eyes dart around like she's expecting Emma to materialize out of thin air.
"She's using Cerebro," I explain, still feeling tranquility flowing through my veins like some kind of mental morphine. "That's how she can reach me from the mansion."
Angelica's face twists with indignation, her flames flaring brighter around her head. "She's spying on you? Already? You've been gone for less than twenty-four hours!"
Before I can answer, Emma's voice cuts through both our minds utterly unapologetic.
'Relax, Firestar. Clearly, I made the right move. Your little mutant neighborhood would be on the news tonight if I hadn't intervened.'
I watch as Angelica's face goes from surprised to furious in about half a second flat. Her hair erupts into a blazing corona, the temperature around us rising several degrees.
'Get out of our heads, Emma.'
'Yeah, yeah,' Emma's mental voice replies dismissively.
The artificial calm starts to recede with her, leaving me standing on a Mutant Town sidewalk with the bitter taste of being on a side of racism I'm not used to.