X-Men: The Last Stand Read Free Page A

was self-evident; by the time she was full-grown, it would be breathtaking, with the foundation of bone structure that guaranteed it would only improve with age.
    “We’ll leave you, then,” John Grey told them.
    Jean sat on the couch opposite the two men, her demeanor as polite as it was guarded. She’d decided on the way down to let them make the first move.
    Xavier obliged her.
    “It’s very rude, you know…,” he said—but his lips didn’t move.
    Her breath went out of her all in a huff. It never occurred to her that he could do what she did.
    “…to read my thoughts, or Mr. Lensherr’s, without our permission.”
    He was sending her more than words; there was a vast and complex texture to their communication that told her she’d been busted from the first fleeting telepathic contact as they drove down the street. While she’d been spying on them, Xavier was taking her full measure as a psi, without her being the slightest bit aware of it.
    Lensherr picked up the conversation from there—only
he
spoke aloud, suggesting to Jean that his abilities differed markedly from Xavier’s. “Did you think you were the only one of your kind, girl?”
    She intended to keep her response to herself, and bridled ever so slightly when Xavier “heard” it anyway.
What kind is that?
she thought.
    “We are mutants, Jean,” Xavier said. “We are like you.”
    She felt a flicker of irritation, like the striking of a match within her soul, heralding a flash of temper that was coming more and more often lately, more and more intense, no matter how hard she tried to keep it under control.
    She smiled in a way that promised trouble, a warning.
    “Really?” The thoughts and emotions that accompanied that single word were raw and rude. “I doubt that.”
    Xavier reacted first, to a volley of psychic alarms, Lensherr following his gaze to look out the study window towards the street.
    Mr. Pash was running headlong down the length of his front yard, partly dragged by his lawn mower, partly chasing frantically after it, as the old machine launched itself skyward as if it were wearing blue tights and a cape and was bent on leaping tall buildings in a single bound.
    At the same time, the stream of water from Mr. Lee’s hose decided to rebel against the reign of gravity and see what it was like to pour
up
instead of down. From him, Xavier and Jean heard a muttered expletive, while Pash’s initial frisson of startlement gave way to a bark of incredulous laughter.
    Then the laughter faded as he caught sight of what else was floating. All along the street, every car in view had suddenly levitated more than ten feet into the air. Nothing else had changed; it was as though they’d been lifted on invisible platforms.
    All told, better than ten tons of metal hung suspended, yet Jean wasn’t even straining.
    Lensherr couldn’t help a smile, nor a comment. “Oh, Charles, I
like
this one.”
    Xavier wasn’t amused. “You have more power than you can imagine, Jean.”
    Her thought, instinctive, defiant.
I dunno, I can imagine quite a lot.
    She met his gaze.
    “The question is,” he continued, refusing to rise to her unspoken challenge, “will you control that power…”
    She lost focus, just like that, and the cars crashed at once to the street. She kept her eyes locked on his, real izing that somehow he’d slipped into her mind and blocked the connections between desire and response. She understood immediately how this had happened; with no one but herself possessing psychic powers, how would she have developed any defenses against another with those same abilities? She didn’t like that, hated the thought of being vulnerable; she liked even less the peremptory way he’d acted. He could have asked; sure, she was showing off, but if he’d treated her with respect she’d have listened.
    “…or let it control you?” he finished.
    She didn’t give him an answer because deep down inside, where the answer really mattered, she