Happy reading!
I own absolutely nothing from "Charmed" other than this plot, my characters, and any other unfamiliarity's that are woven into it. Those ownership rights go to Brad Kern.
"Bloodline"
--Chapter Two: Desperation--
By marissa-christina
Walking briskly through the darkened passageway, Demi paused only to adjust the loosening tourniquet wrapped around her arm, at the same time taking care not to drop the potion vials clenched in her whitened fists. Hissing in pain as her fingers brushed against the burn, she quickly tightened the scrap of cloth and pressed on. 'Can't slow down now,' she thought, hazel eyes narrowed in grim determination despite her steadily growing fatigue. About ten minutes later the soft flickering of candlelight beckoned to her, and Demi sighed in relief when she saw the first of the guards stationed at the front doorway. "Connor!" she called out feebly, waving a bit to get either of their attentions as she slouched against a tree trunk. Head rising at his name, one of the guards caught sight of Demi and started towards her. His partner, however, grabbed his arm, and Demi watched as he bent his head and pointed in her direction, shrugging his shoulders in obvious distrust even as Connor vehemently shook his head. The two spoke in low whispers for a few more seconds before Connor turned towards her and while she was a distance away, she could tell he was frustrated just by the rigidness with which he held himself. Had she not been so tired, she would have smiled.
"What's the password?" he questioned in a loud, clear voice. Demi swallowed and shook her head, trying to clear away some of the fuzziness before raising her left arm and waving her hand. Connor and his partner jumped at the crackle of light green-colored energy that flew from her fingertips and connected with the ground, and Connor was running at her just as the leaves of the growing plant pushed through the foliage.
Demi managed to conjure up a weak smile as Connor grasped her shoulders, keeping her upright her just as her legs started to go out from under her. "Damn it, Dem, are you okay?" he asked quickly, his thick Irish brogue heavy with worry and even though she was just about ready to faint, Demi felt a pleasant warmth burgeon within her.
"Yeah," she replied with a meek nod. Connor's gaze shifted from her face to her injured arm, his blue eyes instantly growing concerned as he took in the makeshift bandage she had made from a strip of her shirt, the shorn fabric slowly turning crimson. Demi swayed a bit on her feet, and Connor reached a hand out to steady her.
"No, you're not," he rebuked, scooping her up into his arms despite her halfhearted protests. Striding to the entrance of the hideout, Connor stopped and turned to his partner, who nodded to Demi in an apologetic fashion, to which she dismissed with a feeble wave of her hand. "I'll be right back, Shane. I've got to get her to medical."
Demi shot up against Connor's chest, her hazel eyes going wide as she rapidly shook her head. "No, no! I need to tell her what I've found out!" she dissented, trying to escape the restriction of Connor's arms. Connor shot her an incredulous look.
"Demi, you're hurt!" Demi continued to shake her head.
"I'll get patched up later! I need to get to her now before it's too late! Connor, please!" Connor sighed, but reluctantly complied with her plea as he walked over the threshold and into the hideout.
"What was the racket outside, Cerius?"
Ducking his head, the bounty hunter waited for the man to look away before speaking. "Nothing more than a coyote, sir. It seems that it startled Jonic and Verean."
Cold blue eyes glanced over at the demon, and then slowly returned to looking out the window. "They've taken care of it, I'll presume?"
"Yes, sir."
Waving his hand in dismissal, Wyatt motioned towards the attic door. "You may return to your duty, Cerius," he said before re-clasping his hands behind his back. Cerius bowed respectfully and exited the room. Once the minion was out of earshot, Wyatt gestured his hand towards the door, telekinetically closing it before he strode over to lone podium in the center of the attic. "Enter," he commanded gruffly. Instantly, the forms of several shimmering demons appeared behind him, although he paid them little attention when he reached the podium.
Ignoring the hologram image that floated over it, Wyatt opened his arms and quietly commanded. "Book."
An ancient tome, identical to the cheap imitation that hovered over the podium, materialized in his outstretched palms, and Wyatt made quick work of flipping it open and shuffling through its aged pages. It took him a few seconds to find the spell he desired, and when he did, Wyatt smiled to himself and lifted his head to look to the wall stationed directly in front of where he was standing. Running his eyes over the faded Triquetra that was drawn on the wood, Wyatt glanced down at the chalk resting in his palm. A small smirk twisted its way up onto his lips. "Soon, little brother…" he drawled softly as he set the chalk onto the book's stand. Turning around to face his group of lackeys, Wyatt regarded them apathetically. "Guard the Manor," he said, his eyes flashing as he stared down his underlings. "Kill anyone who attempts to breach our security."
They nodded in affirmation and shimmered out of the attic, save only one, who stayed behind and stood nonchalantly near the windows. Wyatt raised an eyebrow at him. "Were my instructions unclear, Saverin?"
The demon general bowed his head in easy reverence. "No, sir. I was just curious as to know when you intend to cast the spell."
Wyatt's attention shifted back towards the wall. "Well, you will have to remain curious then, Saverin," he finally responded, giving the demon a leering smile as he disappeared in an outbreak of black orbs.
Clutching the potion bottles in her shaking hands, she sprinted down the hallways, paying no heed to shouts of caution being propelled at her back. She couldn't stop, not now. 'Damn it…'
Bursting through the bushes that half-hid the front entrance of their fort from view, she made a break for the trees. Dodging the branches and shrubs that got in her way, she continued to run, even as she dematerialized into tiny spheres of countless azure lights, all the while desperately hoping that she wouldn't be too late.
"P.M!"
Looking up from the papers she had been shuffling through, she immediately dropped them and shot to her feet, kicking her stool behind her before coming around her desk. "Demi? Oh, my God, what happened?" she asked in alarm, going to Demi's aid as Connor carefully set the injured girl down in a ratty, cushioned chair. Demi waved off her concern when she began to assess the wound, batting her hands away.
"No, no, don't worry about me, there's no time!" Demi began, reaching over and taking a firm hold of the other girl's arm. "Listen, you have to hurry! I overheard some things before I was attacked and…oh…" Demi sent her friend a stricken look. "He's planning on going back, P. Tonight."
"Perimeter is secure, sir."
Wyatt nodded as he continued to darken the faded outline of the Triquetra. "Good. Return to your post."
His follower shimmered out, and Wyatt took a step back as he scrutinized his finished work, letting out a pleased sort-of grunt. Tossing the chalk aside, he turned and went towards the podium, coming around to stand behind it. Staring down at the opened Book of Shadows, at the page he needed, Wyatt skimmed the title with the pads of his fingers, and read over the spell that would allow him to retrieve his wayward sibling. He smirked.
"To Go Back in the Past."
Orbing to the Manor is one thing, she mused as she ducked behind a tree in the neighbor's old backyard. But, finding a way into it when it's being guarded by over ten demons and managing to keep an imperceptible front is a totally different thing. She peaked her head over a branch and squinted through the mass of leaves and twigs, softly exhaling in quiet relief when she got a clear enough view of the ancestral house. Dark green eyes narrowing, she kept her gaze on the demons standing guard near the front porch. 'There's only four of them,' she thought, sparing a glance down at the potion bottles she still grasped in her hands. Scrunching up her nose, she shoved the vials into her pockets.
Knowing she didn't have much time, she made a quick, if not hasty, decision. Jumping out from the safety of the tree, she waited until the first of the guards (and the one closest to her hiding spot) spotted her before throwing her hands up, effectively cutting him off when he opened his mouth to alert the others. Rushing towards his frozen state, she flicked her wrists, and watched in satisfaction as his body disintegrated in a burst of black energy. The silence that followed his soundless demise greeted her, and she smiled a bit. She repeated this course of action with the remaining three, who had, thankfully, been oblivious to their comrade's vanquish, and eventually the front porch was rid of the guards, the entire process taking less than three minutes to complete. But, it had been three minutes that she couldn't have afforded to lose.
She had no doubt that there were more guards in the back of the Manor, so she had to act fast before they realized that the front portion of their security had been completely wiped out. Looking up, she caught sight of the light yellow colored windows; windows she knew looked out from the attic. Windows that also faced in the opposite direction then where the book and the book's podium were positioned. If he were to stand anywhere…it'd be behind that very same podium…with his back turned away from the windows…
Wasting no time, she bent her knees and jumped, projecting herself up onto the small platform constructed above the porch. Reaching up with her hand, she climbed the rest of the way, grabbing a hold of whatever leverage she could find as she hoisted herself up the side of the Manor as silently as she could.
'Almost there…'
It was then that she heard the deep rumble of his voice, and her heart lodged in her throat.
'Oh, no.'
"Hear these words,
Hear the rhyme,
Heed the hope within my mind,
Send me back to where I'll find,
What I wish in place and time."
The thrum of the activated portal rang clear in Wyatt's ears as he regarded the glowing blue Triquetra with a smirk of cool accomplishment. His assembly of demon cronies began talking amongst themselves excitedly and only quieted when Wyatt took a step towards the symbol, followed by a few more, each one drawing him closer…and closer…and…
He never quite reached it, for the sounds of shattering glass disrupted his stride. He had been only a mere few feet from the portal before he was thrown away by some invisible force, his large frame smashing into an old desk to the side of the attic door. His demon followers let out surprised shouts and whirled around, searching for the intruder as their dazed lord picked himself up from the rubble. Looking over, he saw a small figure standing beside the broken windowpane with her arm extended, his livid blue eyes locking gazes with a pair of equally irate emerald ones.
"You…" he growled softly, wiping the debris off his black pants, his stare never faltering from the girl's flushed, furious face as he straightened his back.
"Yes," she assured him tightly as she clenched her fists. Wyatt took a few steps to the side, tilting his head as he looked her up and down. She was unnerved when his face suddenly relaxed, and his posture became much less threatening.
"Hmm, I never pegged you as the breaking-and-entering type, pipsqueak," he said, his lips twisting upwards in a small smile.
She bristled at the familiar endearment, her eyes flashing angrily. "I'm not your 'pipsqueak,'" she hissed, her shoulders tensing as she became conscious of the fact that Wyatt's demon lackeys were standing near her, and although their expressions were one of confusion, their readiness to attack on command was not.
Wyatt's smile grew. "You haven't changed."
"You have," she snapped back, pleased to see his smile falter some, but, to her disappointment, not wholly disappear.
"You've noticed, then."
She glared at him. "I think the piles of bodies littering the streets have given me some idea, yes."
Scoffing, Wyatt shook his head. "Over-dramatic, as always."
"There's nothing 'over-dramatic' about it, Wyatt," she retorted sharply. "And now, you're stooping to all time lows." She waved towards the portal for emphasis. "If you think I'm going to let you go through with this, you're sadly mistaken."
Wyatt chuckled, and she heard a sinister light behind his voice. "I'm afraid you have no more of a choice than Christopher does."
Cocking her head to the side, she raised an eyebrow. "Oh, but I'm afraid I do." With that said, she promptly turned in the direction of the demons and threw her hands up in what could only be recognized as a panic-gesture, instantly blowing up two of them just as the rest rushed at her. Arms ready, another one met the same fate as the previous two, but before she could vanquish any more of them, she felt herself rising in the air before she was haphazardly tossed away. She landed hard on her side, and she shot a dark look at Wyatt, who had his hand up, his lips drawn in a frown. Snarling, she got to her feet and proceeded to take out a few more demons, and again, she was flung away like a weightless rag doll.
Punching the floor, she regained her footing. Knowing that if she didn't do something else (because she was terribly outnumbered), Wyatt would use these few moments to disappear into the portal. She needed to buy some time. Flicking her wrists, she froze the attacking demons, making a point to remain aware of Wyatt's still-moving form as she tried to counter the spell. "Any portal to the past that Wyatt opens will not last, forbid his access and bar his entry, make is so for all his…uh…gentry!" she threw out, her defenses slacking for the split second it took as she tried to think up a rhyme. Unfortunately, that split second was all it took, and she was too distracted to realize that Wyatt had unfroze his cronies during her chant. And, despite Wyatt's yell of protest, she saw a flash of light pass in front of her, followed by a searing pain erupting in her chest before she felt herself being propelled backwards through the haze of cerulean material, Wyatt's deep baritone the last sound ringing in her ears before darkness engulfed her.
"What the hell is going on?" Phoebe shouted, jumping up from the couch. She darted over to her sisters and Chris, who were huddled behind the book's stand and staring at the glowing symbol that had suddenly materialized on their wall in mute bewilderment.
The mute bewilderment soon evolved into alarm as a figure was catapulted from within the portal, the body hitting the floor with an echoing thud. And even after the portal closed and disappeared from the wall, no one made any sort of attempt to move. Chris was the first to step forward, keeping his gaze on the motionless figure as he walked cautiously towards it. He kneeled next to the body and brushed aside the dark curtain of long hair that obscured the face, and much to the bafflement of his mother and aunts, Chris's expression shifted from guarded to absolutely horrified.
Fully turning over the unconscious person and gathering them in his arms, Chris's green eyes went wide in utter disbelief and when he spoke, he sounded as though he had been violently kicked in the chest. "Oh, my God."
