Star-Lord by Sarah Cawkwell

Author:Sarah Cawkwell [Cawkwell, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Media Tie-In, Superheroes, Science Fiction, Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9781839082276
Publisher: Aconyte
Published: 2023-07-04T14:14:16+00:00

Chapter Eight

Trust Exercise

Entry C1451Z2J

Location: Doomwood. The Heaven and Hellfire Club. The living quarters of the so-called White Queen, Emma Frost.

It did not take much for Emma Frost to convince the clientele of the Heaven and Hellfire Club that there was something infinitely more interesting to pay attention to than the three people she moved from the cellar to her personal quarters on the second floor. They were, she informed them, her honored guests. She would, she also informed them, help them.

Honored guests, perhaps, but that didn’t stop her from locking them into her quarters when she departed to “attend to business”.

Rocket was coughing again. A deep, racking cough that started at his toes and worked up through his small body before its explosive escape. He struggled to draw breath. It was a distressing sight. Over the years of their friendship, Quill had never found Rocket receptive to concern, but seeing him like this was enough to prompt Quill into addressing it.

“Hey, Rock?” Quill put cautious care and empathy into his tone. No response was forthcoming; Rocket was still coughing his lungs up. Anxious and concerned, Quill put out a hand to his friend who swatted it away.

“Back off!”

The fit eased and Quill chewed his lip. “Is it… Emma’s perfume? It’s a bit much, isn’t it? Like a rose garden threw up a bottle of champagne.” It was true enough. The spacious living area had a pervading scent of roses. Quill wondered absently if this was what the books called a boudoir. He moved around, picking things up, putting them down, picking them up again and eventually stopped by the window. He stared out while Rocket got his breath back. “Come over here. By the window. The air’s clearer.”

Rocket wiped his mouth, scowling at the hint of scarlet on his fur. He rubbed at it vigorously, blending it into the rest of the muck he’d picked up since they’d been travelling. “You don’t have to talk to me like I’m a child,” he grumbled as he joined Quill.

“Geez, sorry. I’m just trying to help.” Quill lifted the latch on the window which swung open with a soft creak. The street noise was muted up here and a few carrion birds squawked on a nearby rooftop. The stench of the refineries suffused everything, so it was hardly fresh air, but it did let out a little of the floral perfume. Cora joined them.

“The air quality is probably worse out there than it is in here,” she observed.

Rocket gave a brief chuckle and cleared his throat of the phlegm stuck there. “It’s these collars, is all. That’s all it is. Ain’t you felt the same, Quill? Breathing feels like choking.”

Quill didn’t reply immediately. He’d experienced that same sensation of the collar literally closing in on him, but he didn’t want to be needlessly pessimistic. “Not for much longer, buddy. Once we find the Black Vortex, we’ll figure out how we can…”

“No.” The reply was certain and emphatic.

“But I’ll have cosmic powers, man! I’ll probably be able to rip these things off with my bare hands – maybe just a blink.

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