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Chapter One-Enter the Demon
"Where were you?" Jake demanded. Phoebe looked at him curiously as she set her purse down on the kitchen table of his apartment.
"I was stuck in traffic," she said, wondering why he was so angry, "I'm only a few minutes late."
She knew that he had his moods, but this was uncalled for. His face was turning bright red, causing her to wonder if he'd been drinking.
"What was his name?" Jake yelled. Phoebe took a step back, wary of his temper. At first she had thought his overprotective nature was kind of cute, even though it sometimes made him jealous, but this had gone too far.
"What the hell are you talking about?" she snapped back. He took a couple of imposing steps forward. She didn't realize until it was too late that he was backing her into a corner.
"I know you were with another man," he accused, "How could you? After all I've done for you!"
"I was stuck in traffic!" she practically shouted at him. They'd been fighting a lot lately, fights that often included yelling and throwing things. She continued, as angry as he was by now, "I don't know what happened to you today, but you have no right to take it out on me."
Everything had started out so well. Phoebe had been on the brink of giving up again until she met Jake. He had spoiled her, taking her to the best restaurants, going on surprise vacations, buying her jewelry and flowers, and constantly professing his love to her. After a while she realized that her only attraction to him was physical, but she stayed, needing to be loved. Then, five l months later, he had proposed. She had accepted immediately, telling herself that this might be her last shot at a relationship. Her family already loved him, and she had convinced herself that she could truly love him too. But things had changed after that proposal. He had gone from overprotective to possessive, and jealous to enraged.
He took another step forward, and she tried to step back, but she felt the wall behind her. There was no where else for her to go, and he was so close that she could smell the alcohol on his breath. He raised his hand and brought it crashing down across her face. She just looked at him, stunned. She had been prepared for a lot of things, but not for that.
He hit her again. Despite all her strength and training, she was powerless to stop him. He hit her again. She felt herself sliding down to the floor, everything numb. He kicked her stomach. She pulled in, wrapping her self up like a ball. He kicked her again. She started crying. He kicked her again. She was sobbing now, choked cried drowned out his screams of rage. She didn't even know what he was saying. He kicked her again.
When the beating finally stopped she couldn't move. She lay on the cold hard floor of his apartment, bent and broken, allowing herself to succumb to the darkness. When she finally looked up he was gone. She struggled to her feet. She was bleeding, but nothing looked deep. She took a small step and winced, holding back a cry of pain. She didn't think anything was broken, but she couldn't be sure. Limping heavily she left his apartment, determined to get as far away as possible before he came back.
The manor was dark when she got back, everyone was asleep. She wondered how many hours she must have spent lying helpless on his floor. She realized that she'd forgotten her purse, not that it mattered right now. She made it to her room before collapsing, thankful that no one had been awake to question her. What would she say? She could pretend that there had been a demon attack. She knew that she was too embarrassed to admit what had happened. She could have fought back, could had gotten away at least, but she had just laid there and let the blows come.
Crawling up onto her bed, she let herself drift into an uneasy sleep. Memories came at her from all sides. Memories of Jake, Lesley, Jason, Drake, and finally, painfully, memories of Cole bombarded her subconscious. She tossed and turned, sending stabs of pain through her bruised body every time she moved. Why was her love life destined to fail? What had she done to deserve this?
When she woke it was still dark. She glanced at the clock, and groaned when she saw that only two hours had passed. It had felt like an eternity. In her desperation she was seized by an idea. It was her last chance, her only hope. Slowly but steadily she stood up and started to whisper, the words flowing to her through the very air.
Love is far
My heart grows faint
No longer can I stand the wait
I call on you
O Destiny
To bring my true love here to me
At first nothing happened, but then an unnatural breeze swept through the room and something began to glow. The light continued to brighten and Phoebe was forced to look away. When she looked back a man with short blonde hair and dark brown eyes was staring at her. She was amazed that it had worked, and a little frightened, but somehow disappointed. She studied him, and frankly he didn't seem her type at all. As if he could read her mind he smiled at her and started laughing.
"What's so funny?" she asked. It was an effort to talk. Slowly she stepped backwards and leaned against the bed frame, no longer strong enough to stand on her own.
"I'm not your true love Phoebe," he said, "I'm a messenger of Destiny, you summoned me."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, looking a little embarrassed, she wished that she had though this out before she had summoned him. She could already imagine the look on Piper's face when she found out.
"You are on the brink of giving up," he said, it wasn't a question, "I wouldn't have heard your plea if you weren't."
"Then help me," she said softly, desperately, "I can't keep doing this. Help me find my true love."
"I can't," he replied, "I'm only a messenger; I hear the pleas of those who are pure at heart and bring them to the Angel of Destiny. He grants them, if they're meant to be."
"Then go, tell him I need his help," Phoebe pleaded, "If true love isn't meant to be then what is?"
"I already know who your true love is Phoebe," he said, she looked at him, surprised, "And I also know that the Angel will refuse your wish."
"There must be a way," she said, suddenly angry, "Why would you come here if you had no intention of helping me?"
"Because I want to help you," he said, the emotion in his voice telling her that he was truthful, "We all want to help you, but it has been forbidden."
"By whom?" she demanded, truly angry now. Had someone been trying to sabotage her all along? Once again the messenger acted as though he could read her mind.
"The elders, the demonic council, even the Fates themselves think that uniting you with your true love is too dangerous," he said.
"Why?" she asked, her anger washed away. She didn't have the strength to stay angry, it was hopeless anyway. He didn't answer her, but after a minute of silence he smiled again.
"There might be a way," he said, not wanting her to get her hopes up although it was obvious that he was excited. Before she could ask what he was talking about he was gone. Her pain, which had been temporarily held at bay, overwhelmed her again. She was sure now that nothing was broken, but most of her body was already badly bruised, and she didn't bruise easily.
Then there was another wind, and another light. She waited expectantly for the messenger to return, but he didn't. Someone else was standing in the center of her room; someone she hardly dared to believe was real. Cole.
