A/N: Welcome to the sequel to "Out of the Ashes". I'd advise reading that story before this one, as this is a direct sequel and will contain many references to events from the first story, so you might get a bit confused if you haven't read it. I will once again be writing alternate chapters from the perspective of different characters, although this time I'm only using Chris and Wyatt (although Melinda will still be in the story to some extent). Enjoy!


Chapter One: Wyatt

They were called the Phoenix. A family of elite assassin witches descended from the time of the Salem Witch Trials. Driven by vengeance, they sold their magical services to the highest bidder and owed allegiance to no one. Possessors of the Grimoire, their version of the Book of Shadows, they were marked by a red birthmark of the phoenix, rising from the ashes. They were dangerous and deadly in equal measure

And now they had his brother.

It hadn't taken Aunt Paige long to remember where she'd heard the name "Bianca" before and as soon as she'd shared the memory it had open the floodgates. The Phoenix entry in the Book had come out, before Billie's startled exclamation and a scrap of ragged parchment had revealed that there was much more to this situation than Chris randomly befriending a Phoenix witch. No, the Phoenix had been working this one for a while, orchestrating the attack on the manor, which had caused Chris's powers to manifest for a second time, and then making contact with him in person. Wyatt was willing to bet that this Bianca had something to do with Chris's sudden interest in security tapes and police files too. The Phoenix witches had manipulated his little brother from start to finish… the question was, why?

Like the Halliwells – at least until the current generation – the Phoenix witches were traditionally female, with powers passed down from mothers to daughters, so a male witch would have no direct place in their clan. And they were powerful enough on their own; adding in Chris would be like super-charging a super-nova. Which left only the unpleasant thought that maybe they were looking to expand their gene pool, but then surely Chris was too young? Why not wait a few years? Or choose a less conspicuous target, someone who didn't have hoard of powerful relatives ready to strike at a moment's notice?

Then there was Bianca herself. From their reactions to the name, his aunts had obviously met her before and so had his parents. The rest of the family not so much, but when Billie had asked for an explanation, Aunt Phoebe had fobbed them off with something about running into the Phoenix witches back when Wyatt was a baby. Wyatt could believe that, but Bianca was supposed to be around his age, right, so wouldn't she have been a baby back then too? What was so memorable about this woman that his family would remember her eighteen years on?

He had a lot of unanswered questions and the last several weeks had done little to fill in the blanks. All he knew for sure was that Chris was still missing and wherever he'd gone, it was beyond their magical sight. Scrying had failed. Spells had failed. Appealing to the Elders had failed. Trawling through all of their magical contacts and Underworld connections had failed. The Phoenix witches had covered their tracks well.

So it was that on the morning of Chris's sixteenth birthday, Wyatt decided he'd had enough. He woke early and snuck out of the house before anyone else was up. He might not have bothered. Melinda was staying at Aunt Phoebe's – had been for a couple of weeks now – which just left him and Mom rattling around in the mansion. Dad was… well he'd pretty much moved permanently into his office at Magic School. When Wyatt had tracked him down and demanded an explanation, his dad has confessed that he couldn't stand the fighting any longer. Couldn't stand the guilt. He'd seemed so small and broken that any anger brewing inside Wyatt died.

The wind whistled down the street and Wyatt drew his scarf and coat more tightly around himself to ward of the chill. He checked his watch for the fourteenth time and was just debating getting his phone out when a beaten up old Cadillac lurched into view, weaving up the road and then screeching to a halt beside him, front tire mounting the curb. The driver's door opened and the guy that emerged, shivering, was short and almost painfully thin, with curly dark hair and thick, black-rimmed glasses just peeking out from underneath a black beanie hat. The collar of his dark coat was turned up against the wind.

"Alright, Wy?"

A smile blossomed across Wyatt's face. "Dex. Thanks for coming, man."

The smaller man shrugged theatrically. "What can I say? It's been a slow week."

Dex Stafford looked and acted about twenty years old, but we probably closer to a hundred. Wyatt had met the half-demon when he'd been helping his Aunt Paige and Uncle Henry out on a probation case a couple of years ago, and despite his mom's best efforts, they'd established something resembling a friendship. Piper Halliwell saw Dex as a bad influence, but for Wyatt he was a real breath of fresh air. There was no pretension about Dex and no judgement from him – he just was. And sometimes that was exactly what Wyatt needed.

"So what's up? You sounded kind of constipated on the phone."

"It's about Chris."

Dex nodded. "Figured as much. Sorry about that, by the way."

"You heard?"

"Demonic grapevine's as active as ever. And… well it's kind of got our interest, what with you being practically magical royalty and all."

It was something he'd heard from Dex before, but that didn't mean Wyatt had to like it. "If you start in on the your Highness again –"

"Peace, Wy. I'm just messing. But I really am sorry about Chris. He was a good kid, for a whiny little emo."

"He's not dead," Wyatt said sharply. "Just –"

"– flirting with team Evil for a while."

" – with the Phoenix witches."

Dex whistled. "Phoenix? Seriously? That's badass."

"What do you know about them?"

Dex dug in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, which he lit with a flick of his fingers. "Not much. Dated one of them once, few decades back. Fierce. The sex was…" He shook his head dreamily. "I swear I only just about got out of that relationship alive." He flicked ash onto the ground, narrowly avoiding Wyatt's shoe.

"What was her name?"

Dex chewed on his cigarette. "Ashley? Alexia? Avaline? Avaline. Or maybe Erica…"

Wyatt sighed inwardly. Dex was a good guy most of the time, but also had a knack for being a complete pain in the ass without even trying. Particularly when it came to girls.

"Yeah, I think it was Erica. Man, that girl was hot." Dex grinned to himself. "The things those legs could do…"

"Dex."

"Huh? Oh, sorry, was I drooling? She really was fine. Scary as hell, but damn was it worth it."

"Do you remember anything beyond her name? Like what she does, where she works… where the Phoenix hang out?"

"What, an evil version of Casa de Halliwell, you mean?" Dex puffed thoughtfully on his cigarette. "Dunno. If there is, Emma never took me there."

Whatever vague sliver of hope had still existed inside Wyatt died. "Great."

"She did take me to her house, though." Dex dropped the cigarette and ground it underneath his heel. "Wanna see?"


After a long and painful drive, where Wyatt had become convinced Dex was actively aiming at every pot hole and speed bump in the city, the car finally slowed and his friend took one final right-hand turn.

"Here you go."

Wyatt looked around. Trees lined the road on either side and the houses were set well back, resplendent behind their walls and fences, driveways littered with sensible family cars. On one side of the road a man was gamely watering his half-frozen flowerbed while opposite, two boys were chucking a ball back and forth with the bored air of kids whose parents had banned TV and Internet. Everything about it screamed Middle American Suburbia.

"Are you sure we're in the right place…?"

"Did we pass Wing Yung's Thai Takeout?" Confused, Wyatt nodded slowly and Dex looked satisfied. "Then we're in the right place. Emma introduced me to it. Best non-sex-related thing to come out of that relationship." He closed his eyes momentarily, a beatific smile gracing his face. "Their food is epic."

Dex's culinary choices aside, even being on – Wyatt twisted around in his seat so he could see the road sign – Dawnview Way didn't help to narrow things down much. The road curved around to the left and out of sight – who knows how many houses there were down there?

"Lot of houses to search… can you be a bit more specific?"

"God, you don't ask for much do you?" Dex complained without heat. He drummed his fingers on the dashboard and then began crawling along the road, head roving from left to right, checking the houses. Five minutes later they were still going and as a third irritated motorist swerved around them, horn blaring, Wyatt was on the verge of calling a halt to the whole thing. Of course, Dex chose that moment to stop so abruptly Wyatt lost his balance and slipped off the seat, then threw the car into reverse – making Wyatt's head snap back the other way – before finally pulling up to the kurb with a grinding, bumping noise that Dex really should have been more bothered about that.

"This one."

Wyatt followed his friend's gaze. The house in question was an attractive, old-fashioned building, set back behind a curved drive, with wide windows and cheerful window boxes. The lawn was an almost unnatural shade of green and a large, thick-bodied tree stood in its centre, spreading dappled sunlight across the ground. A car – some kind of station wagon – languished on the driveway. Like the rest of Dawnview Way, it couldn't have looked more innocuous if it had tried.

"And this is definitely the house…?"

"Always with the doubting – doesn't that get tiring? Where's the love, Wy? Where's the trust?"

"Squashed beneath the weight of experience," Wyatt said dryly.

"If I wasn't half-evil, that would really sting… yeah, I'm sure. It might have been twenty odd years ago and I might have been totally wasted, but I left my mark."

Well that could mean any number of weird, wonderful or probably twisted, things. "Do I want to know?"

"I told you Elisa was hot, right? Smoking."

"You might have mentioned it."

"No I mean, literally, smoking. Girl could hurl an energy bolt like no one else. 'Course, so can I." Dex grinned. "Only natural we'd challenge each other to a duel at one in the morning. Only, well, she kind of tackled me when I was taking a shot, and I might have kind of… accidentally set fire to that tree." He nodded at it and now that he'd pointed it out, Wyatt could see a darkened patch of bark on one side of the trunk. "We put it out before her parents noticed, but it left this heart-shaped burn, so then she starts getting all giggly and decides we should burn our initials into it, make it like a love heart." He rolled his eyes as if to say 'girls, what can you do?'. "I only went along with it 'cos she said she wouldn't sleep with me for a month. Should have saved myself the bother – I dumped her two days later."

Wyatt watched the house for a bit longer. "Fancy renewing an old acquaintance?"

"Are you nuts? D'you know how long I was on the run after dumping that crazy bitch? Three years. Three years, Wy!" Dex sagged back into his seat. "That's one for your memory banks: Phoenix witches don't take rejection well."

How do they take a random stranger knocking on their front door…? Wyatt wondered. Well, he was about to find out. He opened the car door.

Dex grabbed his arm. "Wait a sec – you're going in? After I just said… you forget about the part where they're crazy assassin witches?"

"You forget about the part where they have my little brother?" Wyatt countered.

Dex made a show of reluctantly releasing him. "Your funeral, Wy."

Closing the door behind him, Wyatt immediately missed the warmth of Dex's heaters, cranked up to max as usual. The wind was even more bitter than earlier – if that was possible – and he hurried up the driveway to the house. As he passed the tree he saw the initials EM and DS next to the burn mark – so Dex had been right about the Phoenix witch's initial after all, even though he couldn't seem to make up his mind what her actual name was.

Wyatt was about to knock on the bland white front door when it occurred to him that his name and face were pretty well-known in magical circles. If he was going to find Chris through this woman then he needed to be smart about it. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching him, Wyatt quickly glamoured his appearance, making himself shorter, darkening his hair and fattening himself up. When there was no trace of Wyatt Halliwell left, he raised his hand.

The door opened almost instantly, making him stumble back in surprise and almost fall. When he'd regained his balance he looked up to find a teenage girl of about fourteen regarding him suspiciously from underneath a shock of dark red, curly hair. She was dressed in ripped jeans and a short-sleeved t-shirt under a long-sleeved one, and she was visibly chewing gum.

"Um hi, is your mom or dad in?"

She looked him up and down and then dismissed him with a slight sneer. "No."

"Right. Er, do you know when they'll be back?"

"No." The gum went round and round and round. Wyatt fought the urge to ask her to close her mouth.

This wasn't going well. Maybe if he could just establish that he was in the right place, at least…

"Okay, well I'm actually trying to get in touch with a lady who I think used to live here… Erica. Or possibly Emma. Maybe Elisa."

She blew a bubble, the very picture of teenage insolence. "You don't seem very sure."

"Yeah, I, uh, I found this letter and the name was kind of hard to make out…" Wyatt trailed of. "Have you heard any of those names before?"

"Who are you?" the girl asked, slouching against the doorframe, folding her arms across her chest. The movement pulled her long sleeves up and Wyatt caught a flash of a red tattoo on the inside of her left wrist. A rush of excitement shot through him and he forced himself to remain calm.

He laughed. "This probably all sounds kinda weird, huh? Sorry. I'm just trying to trace someone I thought might live here. It's for a school project. We have to investigate our family tree, so dad gave me these old letters and this address was on one of them –"

"You think we're related?" The question visibly disgusted her and Wyatt decided it was time to wrap this up.

"Probably not. It was always a long shot… I'll come back another time when your parents are in."

Without waiting for a reply, he started back down the drive. After a couple of breathless seconds where he could feel the weight of her stare boring into the back of his head, he heard the door slam shut behind him and finally allowed himself to relax.

An energy ball in the face greeted him when he jumped back into the car. "What the hell, Dex?"

"Shit – Wy, that you?"

Wyatt rubbed his singed nose. It felt fuller than normal and he suddenly understood Dex's reaction. "Crap, I forgot."

He removed the glamour sheepishly as Dex rolled his eyes. "Warn a guy next time, alright? Random strangers hop in my car, I blast them. So, was I right?"

"You were right. Still don't know who Emma or Elisa is, but that girl I spoke to? Phoenix witch. I saw the mark."

"Did she see you see the mark?"

"Urm…"

"I should stamp on the gas."

"Not a bad idea."

As Dex swung the car out into the road – almost colliding with a horn-happy businessman – he muttered swear words under his breath. "Next time we're travleling by magic."


Dex was right. When Wyatt returned to the house that evening it was in a flurry of blue and white orbs, with Dex shimmering in behind him. They crouched awkwardly in the bushes for a while, watching the front stoop of the house as the street slowly grew quieter and quieter. Predictably it wasn't long before Dex was shifting his position so much he looked like he was doing some kind of weird, post-modernist dance.

"You don't have to be here," Wyatt murmured, trying to sound diplomatic. He needn't have bothered – Dex's hide was as thick as a rhino's – but ingrained politeness was something he'd inherited from his mom.

"It was this or playing shuffleboard with my nan." Dex mock-shuddered. "Never piss off a 500 year old Banshee, my friend. Auditory bloodbath." He grinned. "Besides, not gonna pass up an opportunity to hook up with old Erica again."

Wyatt wrinkled his nose. "Dex, if this Erica even exists then she'll be what, like, forty? And married. And probably a mom. Probably that girl's mom."

Dex shrugged. "Doesn't change her hotness."

Wyatt stifled a sigh, shifting his weight to relieve the pressure on his aching legs. The ground was hard and cold and a quick glance at his watch told him they'd been here for far too long. Deciding to come in the first place had been a stupid, reckless idea, but he'd been too blinded by finally having a vague link to Chris to notice. Now, lurking in the dark like some kind of predator, shivering, knees beginning to cramp, he was ready to admit defeat. If the girl and her parents were at home, they weren't coming out and there was no way he could knock on the door again, so what was he hoping to –

Headlamps swung across the driveway. Wyatt threw himself to the ground, tugging Dex down with him. They huddled there, barely breathing as the car drew to a halt and the engine quieted. A moment later, there was the sound of the door opening.

Wyatt risked a quick look. A second car had pulled alongside the station wagon – a smart little sports car in some kind of dark paint, maybe blue or black. A figure got out, pulling a briefcase after them. The security light by the garage flicked on, revealing a smartly dressed woman in a dark suit topped by a mane of red hair a couple of shades darker than the girl's. The mother? Wyatt tried to make out her wrist, but frustratingly it was covered by the suit jacket.

"Erica," Dex breathed.

Wyatt jumped – he'd almost forgotten his friend was there. "You sure?"

"Mmm. No mistaking that hair." As the woman approached the house, he made a sound of appreciation. "Or that tight little ass."

"You couldn't even remember her name earlier."

"Definitely Erica. So… what's the plan?"

What was the plan? Erica was going inside and he had no desire to confront a Phoenix witch on home ground. No, best to keep this as under-the-radar as possible, which meant a bit of magical breaking and entering.

"I've got this."

He waited until the woman had disappeared inside the house and then hurried up the drive, keeping low to the ground, until he was crouched down beside the sports car, the car between him and the house. He waited a few moments longer and then rose up so that he could see inside the car. Bingo! A scarf lay and a pair of gloves lay on the passenger seat.

"Scarf," he whispered. The familiar blue and white orbs delivered the scarf into his waiting hand and Wyatt scampered back to where Dex was waiting for him.

"That's your grand plan?" Dex's eyebrow rose so high it almost disappeared under his beanie. Stealing her accessories?"

"Scrying," Wyatt corrected. "I can use this to track her movements. If she is a Phoenix witch, maybe she'll lead me straight to Chris."

Dex considered. "You know, that's not a totally shit plan."

"Thanks," Wyatt said wirily.

"What are you gonna do if Chris doesn't want to come back with you?"

The question pulled Wyatt up short. Even though Chris had, by all reports, gone willingly with this Bianca girl, the idea that his little brother wouldn't want to return wasn't something he'd even considered up to now. It had all been about finding Chris and getting him back. What Chris wanted… it had never come up. To have his morally ambiguous half-demon friend be the one to point it out stung.

"I just want to talk to him," Wyatt said finally. "Just talk."

"After all the trouble we've gone through, I'd kick his ass," Dex put in helpfully.

No, Wyatt thought, there's been enough fighting. I need to explain… to make him understand. To apologise.

I need to fix this.