Hello All! So sorry for the delayed update. For the past two weeks life has gotten in the way of my life! Anyways, I finally have my free time back and am eager to get the next few chapters to you. Thanks for your patience - I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 11

It was late, or very early depending on how you wanted to look at it. After the last customer had shuffled out and stumbled into a cab and the employees had finished clean up, Chris was left to lock P3 up. The clock in the club said it was 3:30 a.m. He counted the cash in the till, but in truth, the only thing he was interested in was counting sheep. He was almost half-asleep when four demons shimmered in.

They were hideous things really; twice his size and their wide gray and green mottled faces were covered with small horns.

Chris threw one of the demons against the far wall – aiming his body for a booth and not the expensive sound equipment on stage. He tried to blow another up, but his powers only made a small explosion and barely made the demon sway in his stance. Chris dropped to the floor behind the bar. He needed back up. Fast.

Wyatt! Denny! A few beats later two very groggy witches orbed into the middle of the dance floor. However the fireball that whizzed between Wyatt and Prudence's heads helped them wake up faster than a coffee IV drip.

"Whoa!" Prudence blurted, flattening herself to the ground. A second later she had rolled onto her back and flipped up, her legs landing two solid kicks into one of the demon's chests. She turned, and challenged the demon to come at her again, "Whaddya got?"

Meanwhile, Wyatt had released a stream of lightning from his fingertips, charbroiling one of the demons casually. He looked around, noting that Prudence was holding her own against the demon who had thrown a fireball towards them. Wyatt shook his head – feeling almost sorry for the guy. Not wanting to deny Prudence her fun, he turned around again to look for another target to charbroil.

The third demon was just in rough a shape as the one fighting Prudence. Chris had taken advantage of the distraction Wyatt and Prudence had provided when they orbed in and managed to escape from behind the bar. He was now throwing one of the demons up in the air with his telekinesis and then letting him slam onto the floor of the club. It was like watching someone try to dribble a flat basketball.

The demon Chris had knocked into the booth when the four shimmered in, forgotten until now, was closing in on Prudence as she fought.

Prudence spun around and landed a roundhouse into the demon's chest when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She jumped, levitating into the air just as a current of energy from Wyatt's fingertips charred another demon that had been approaching her from behind.

It was time to end this. From up above, Prudence formed an energy ball and threw it at the demon she had been battling, ending their fight and him quite effectively.

Chris had finally knocked the demon he had been dribbling unconscious. He turned to the other two, catching his breath. Wyatt had his arms crossed in front of his bare chest, the flannel pajama bottoms covered in sheep leaping over fences were very amusing. Chris made a mental note to poke fun at the obvious Aunt Phoebe present at a more appropriate time – like when there wasn't a demon on P3's dance floor. "Thanks guys, they came out of nowhere." Chris acknowledged his brother and cousin.

Prudence looked back and forth between her two cousins. "Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on here? I was having the most wonderful dream about Miller and me – "

"Whoa!" Wyatt interrupted, pulling his arms from across his chest and signaling for Prudence to stop. "Too much information about my baby cousin about to be revealed. Not that the pajamas aren't revealing enough already!"

Prudence looked down at her bedtime ensemble comprised of a black, midriff-baring tank top and some black cotton boy shorts. "Oh." She blushed and pulled her arms across her midriff. It was one thing for her cousins – and roommates – to see her in the skimpy outfits she wore clubbing. It was another thing for them to see her in her barest of essentials.

"Here," Wyatt said, conjuring a very long, very shapeless terry cloth robe for her. "Put this on."

"Could we please address the demon in the middle of our dance floor?" Chris interrupted, exasperated with the banter between Wyatt and Prudence.

"Sure," Wyatt stated, a smirk coming to his mouth. "What about the demon on our dance floor?"

Prudence shrugged, "You got me."

"You guys realize that this is the first blatant attack in weeks – no, wait, scratch that. It's the first attack of any sort in months." Chris said.

"Why don't we wake Mr. Demon up and ask him why he's here?" Prudence suggested, now fully wrapped in the cozy terry cloth.

"Good idea cuz." Wyatt said, and orbed a set of crystals to form a cage around the still unconscious demon.

The witches did not know how to wake the demon up, so they waited. Prudence sat on top of the bar examining the manicure she had squeezed in earlier that day. Chris, ever neurotic, paced around the club, while Wyatt sat down at a booth and propped his legs on the table looking very unconcerned. To tell the truth, not much about demondom bothered the Twice-Blessed. He had more powers than he knew about, a sword from the legend books and the fabled Halliwell Book of Shadows in his corner – why would he be concerned about an ugly, vaguely rhinoceros-looking demon on P3's dance floor?

After almost a half-hour of waiting, the demon came to. He tried to fling a fireball at the witches, but the crystal-cage bounced it back to him. He did, at least, have enough common sense to duck.

Chris began the interrogation, "Who sent you?"

The demon did nothing but utter a low growl from the bottom of his throat.

Wyatt stood up, "He just asked you a question – you gonna answer it? Or did you hatch from your egg without any manners?"

Again the demon uttered his low growl in response.

Chris gritted his teeth and asked the question again. "Who sent you?"

This time Prudence flung some powder onto one of the crystals, causing electricity to fill the cage and roll through the demon. The demon's tortured squeals were revolting to the eardrums.

"Who sent you?" Chris was beginning to lose patience.

Prudence flung more powder on one of the crystals before the demon had a chance to respond. The powder produced the same effect as before.

As the second round of squeals died, Chris asked again, his voice deadly quiet, "Who sent you?"

It was the coldness in Chris's voice that made Wyatt's head jerk towards his brother. Chris's eyes had turned dark and narrowed. His jaw was clenched tightly, even his posture was different. Gone were reserved mannerisms and slight slouch in the shoulders that their mother was forever yelling at him for. Across from him was not the brother he knew. This Chris was cold, harsh and confident. This Chris was dangerous.

"Who sent you?" Chris demanded. "If you answer me, I might not feel compelled to vanquish your sorry ass."

"N-n-n-no one."

Wyatt raised an eyebrow at the demon, then at Prudence. She gave him a slight nod confirming his suspicions – the demon was lying.

"If no one sent you, I'd say you would have to be pretty stupid to attack us – don't you know who we are?"

"We were only meant to attack you," the demon replied, pointing at Chris.

Wyatt stepped forward, the big-brother-over-protective-gene surging through him and he fought off, with great difficultly, the desire to rip the demon's larynx out of its throat. "She," he nodded to Prudence, "Is a telepath. So, we can do this the easy way, and have you give us a name. Or, we can do this the hard way."

The hard way involved Prudence ripping the name they needed directly out of the demon's mind. It wasn't a pleasant experience for both parties involved.

The demon looked from one witch to another weighing his options. Did he risk it with the witches or with Him? Deciding he wasn't going to call a possible bluff, he took the easy route. "He sent us."

Voice still detached and cold, Chris asked, "Who's he?"

"He doesn't have a name." The demon replied.

Wyatt scoffed, "Yeah. Sure. Right."

The demon turned and faced Wyatt, affronted that his words were not believed, "He has no name! Why would I lie?"

"Um, 'cause you're a demon?" Prudence offered.

"He has no name!" The demon roared. He threw a fireball at one of the crystals incinerating it, but before Prudence or Wyatt had a chance to react, the demon stopped his advance and began clutching his chest, gasping for air. Prudence looked around for the cause of the demon's sudden halt. The reason was Chris. His fist was clenched tightly, his face set with concentration. Both she and Wyatt could sense the demon's heart as it burst. The three witches watched as the demon burst into flames and left a scorch mark on the dance floor.

Prudence and Wyatt looked at each other, then turned to Chris. Wyatt spoke first, "Uh, Chris? You okay?"

Millions of thoughts and questions whirled through the half-witch, half-whitelighter's head. Why him? Why not Wyatt? Who perceived him as a threat? There was one, however, that kept rising to the surface: this is only the beginning. He shook his head in attempt to quiet the noise. "Yeah, I guess so." Chris looked directly into Wyatt's eyes. And with relief, Wyatt noticed that it was really his brother standing in front of him. He traded a quick glance and shrug with Prudence.

"Whatever. It's late. I'm going to bed." Prudence stated, heading towards the back stairwell that led to their loft.

Wyatt waited until Prudence was in the stairwell before turning to his younger brother. "You all set down here?"

Chris nodded, "Yeah, I had just finished counting the cash in the till."

"Come on then, Squirt. It's late, I'm tired and we're going to have to see this place again in about 5 hours. We've got that delivery coming early."

Wyatt led the way up the back staircase. As they climbed, Chris's eyes fell to the sheep covered pajama bottoms and he remembered his mental note from earlier. "Nice sheep Wy – you count 'em often?" He was able to orb out just before Wyatt's fist connected with his shoulder.

He had watched from the shadows as they defended themselves against the demons. He watched his son vanquish the evil.

He had a son… The thought kept circling in Leo's mind. It was hard to wrap his brain around the concept – very hard. How could have he forgotten his own son? What else had he forgotten? Did he have other children? A wife? He reached into his pocket for the cameo he always carried and tried to remember.

May 15, 2029

Dearest,

Yesterday was our monthly family day. School was on break yesterday – some teacher conference. Luckily it was only during the first part of the day so Paige and Will could join the rest of us.

Dad took us (Melly, Chris, Wyatt, Veve, Perry and I) out on his sailboat in the morning. It was terrific weather for sailing; the bay was crammed with boats.

Will spent the afternoon manning the grill. Wyatt and Perry played several games of one-on-one. Naturally Will burned half of the food on the grill as he coached the two from the sidelines. Paige took care of the drink cooler while Chris and I kept the buffet table heaping with food. Veve and Melly were constantly underfoot, spending all of their time in the kitchen with Chris and me.

Phoebe and Prudence tried to help, but to be honest, the two of them are just so hopeless when it comes to the kitchen. Chris kicked them out after the strawberry daiquiris they tried to mix ended up on the ceiling. I should have flipped out about my very nice, very clean kitchen being bathed in bright red liquid, but for some reason, I didn't. Perhaps I just enjoyed having the whole family together.

Well, almost the whole family…

Where are you Leo? When will you return to our sons and the daughter you've never met? I have written to you everyday for the past eight years. Perhaps I still have hope that you will return. Or perhaps, without these letters, I know that I will truly be alone. And I'm scared of being alone.

Love Always, Piper

Prudence was already sitting at the kitchen table when Piper came downstairs to start breakfast. Like her namesake she was typically the first one out of bed and there were only two things she enjoyed right away in the morning: coffee and the newspaper. Offer her your company, a bowl of oatmeal or a nice fruit cup and your head would be bitten off – as Piper had learned very quickly.

"Good Morning Prudence," Piper greeted her niece.

"Morning Aunt Piper." Prudence replied. Despite the late-night/early-morning vanquishing session, Prudence had gotten up early and driven to the manor. Saturdays were special days. Piper would make a big breakfast for the family and then Prudence, Phoebe and Veve would go shopping. Today, the aunts were joining them, as well as Melinda. The six of them were on a mission for new shoes and pants for Melinda (the young girl had yet another growth spurt, making her the tallest in her class) and Veve was looking for something to wear to the end of the year dance at Magic School – as was Paige.

"How was your date last night?" Piper asked, "It was Miller, right?" She poured herself a cup of coffee.

Prudence nodded and got up from the table to refill her coffee mug. "Yup, Miller. We had a really nice time. We walked the Pier and had a picnic in Ghirardelli Square at sunset. We ended up at P3. Good manners, not bad in the dancing department and great kisser. He's supposed to be calling me later about going to brunch tomorrow."

"Sounds like a good one," Piper said absent-mindedly as she mixed together the ingredients for popovers.

"I think so, but time will tell – right?" Prudence only half-joked, remembering Trevor, a guy she had dated for over two months last year before discovering he was a warlock. In effort to cheer Prudence up, her mother and the aunts had told her several stories from their dating pasts and Prudence learned that dating someone from "the dark side" was a right of passage for Halliwell women. Aunt Piper had been engaged to a warlock, Aunt Paige had moved in with a guy who couldn't control his own magic, even her mom had fallen in love and married the Source!

Paige orbed into the kitchen, still in her pajamas, directly in front of the coffee pot. Yawning, she grabbed a mug, poured the last of the coffee in it and orbed out before either Prudence or Piper could say anything.

Piper just shrugged, and continued to make the pancake batter. "Prudence, could you make up another pot of coffee? I've got a feeling that Will is going to be waking up shortly and the boys said they would be over for breakfast this morning."

As Prudence moved to refill the coffee pot – coffee was the one kitchen chore she could do well – she began telling Piper about the demons that attacked Chris last night.

"Have you checked the book?" Piper asked when Prudence finished telling her about the attack.

"Not yet, I thought I would wait and do that when Wyatt and Chris got here. But there was something that bothered Wyatt and I more than the attack."

"What?" Piper asked, only half-listening as she kept an eye on the sausages and bacon on the stove, the pancakes on the griddle and the fresh popovers in the oven.

Prudence hesitated for a moment, long enough for the popovers to see their way from the oven to the trivet on the counter in relative safety. "It was Chris, Aunt Piper. He wasn't himself. It was like – like he turned into someone else."

Piper stopped in her tracks, her hands still gripping the popover pan. She debated how to answer, but knew that Prudence would instantly know if she was lying. She decided to tell her the truth. Piper slowly turned around and faced her niece. Prudence's deep blue eyes were nervous as Piper began her explanation. "That's because he was a different man. He was a different Chris."

She took a quick glance at the clock, and realized that she was late in waking up Melly and Veve – Piper hoped they would be quick to get ready this morning. "Prudence, I've got to wake up the girls. We'll never get out of here before noon if I don't get them out of bed now. Will should be here in a minute, I heard the downstairs shower stop a few minutes ago. Can you watch everything until he gets here? And I promise, one day, you'll learn the whole story."

Prudence nodded, a little uncertain, but willing to help.

As Piper bustled out of the kitchen, Will entered from the basement. He looked around, expecting to see his sister-in-law, not his niece, watching over the family's breakfast.

"I'll take it from here Prudence, okay?" Will asked as he moved to the coffeemaker, now done brewing the second pot of the morning.

"Thanks Uncle Will." Prudence said, the relief of breakfast not being in her hands was audible. "How did your classes go this week?" she asked, reclaiming her chair at the kitchen table as well as the morning paper.

Will groaned, "You can tell there's only three more weeks of school left. The natives are getting restless. What about you – how was the art history exam yesterday?"

Prudence pressed her lips together – in truth, she felt as if she had aced it. But she knew the moment she said anything, the grade would be jinxed and when she got her test back on Monday there would be a giant 'D+' on the top of it. "Pretty good," Prudence managed to spit out somewhat nonchalantly.

Will grinned, "Ahhh….not saying anything for fear of a jinx?"

Prudence nodded.

"And the date last night? Paige and Piper told me you've been waiting for this guy to ask you out for awhile."

Will had become a surrogate father to her since losing her own father, Jason. It was Will who had gone to every single one of her swim meets and dance recitals. It was Will who had snapped photo after photo before she left for the prom. It was Will who had built a darkroom in the basement when she began taking photographs. And it was Will who gave her fatherly advice and support when she had a problem with a teacher or needed help on a project.

Prudence smiled and recapped the evening for her uncle. "We cruised the pier, had a sunset picnic, let me pick the toppings for our ice cream sundae and was willing to get out on the dance floor at P3."

Will nodded, "Good – good. Sounds like this guy has some potential." And I'll get the real scoop on this guy from Chris and Wyatt when they show up later. Will thought to himself.

Prudence turned to the fashion section of the paper and was instantly absorbed. Will turned the television on, flipping channels until he found San Francisco's morning news show. As he watched breakfast, Will half-listened to the weather report and sports scores.

"…disappearances have been reported throughout San Francisco and the metro region. We go now to Dayna Fischer for a live report from City Hall where Police Commissioner Darryl Morris is about to give a press conference…"

At Darryl's name, both Will and Prudence paid full attention to the television.

The longtime family friend had aged well. Prudence, her nieces and nephews had grown up calling him Uncle Darryl and they were just as close with Aunt Shelia and their two sons, Darryl Jr. and Jacob. Darryl Jr., affectionately known as DJ, had followed in his father's footsteps and had just graduated the police academy. The Halliwells had been present at his graduation. Piper had dropped off several dozen muffins at his precinct his first day, much to the pleasure of all of the men and women working. Jacob was still in school, Prudence's age, and pre-law.

Darryl stepped to the podium and began his prepared speech. "In the past week, the city has witnessed over 20 murders. Each victim has suffered from the same cause of death. SFPD is doing everything in its power to track down this serial killer. But we need the public's help. If you have any information pertaining to these murders, please contact your local SFPD precinct. They will direct you to our special investigation team. Thank you."

Reporters scrambled, trying to get details out of the lifelong cop, but Darryl refused and left the podium quickly, needing to get back to the case.

Dayna Fischer appeared on the television, "As Commissioner Morris just stated there have been 20 murders, all with the same cause of death, reported in the last week. We do not know any details at this time. Two to three police officers from each precinct have been pulled into a special investigation unit. This unit is working round the clock in conjunction with the FBI. We'll return now to Dave and Kim at the studio."

Prudence looked to her Uncle Will. "I have a bad feeling about this one."

Will nodded, "Think you should go have a talk with Darryl?"

Prudence shook her head, "No. I think it would make more sense to visit one of the crime scenes first. No sense in bugging Uncle Darryl if we don't need to – he looks really stressed out. The newspaper had an article about the deaths this morning and listed some of the sites where victims were discovered. Mom should be up by now. I'll have her come with me; one of us should be able to get a premonition."

Phoebe walked into the kitchen just as Prudence was finishing her sentence. "What premonition?" She asked.

Prudence grabbed a travel mug and filled it with coffee. "The premonition that one of us is going to get from a crime scene. Come on, I'll explain on the way. Uncle Will, could you let Aunt Piper know we'll be back by 10:30 for the shopping excursion?" Grabbing a couple of fresh popovers and the newspaper, she worked her mother out of the kitchen and the front door.

Will just shook his head and flipped over the pancakes on the griddle.

Prudence was driving. Phoebe was waking up with her coffee.

"Why are we going to a crime scene?" Phoebe asked her daughter.

"Over the past week there have been at least 20 murders in the SF area all with the same cause of death – there could be more, but police are still working through all of the tips they've been getting from their hotline. The first murder was eight days ago. A woman in the Haight. The last time she was seen alive she was getting her hair cut at the salon only three blocks from where she was found."

Phoebe frowned and took another sip of coffee. "Cause of death?"

"Police haven't released that information."

"So which crime scene are we visiting?"

"I figured we would get the best psychic hit off of the most recent. It's in the financial district downtown. A vice president of one of the big investment companies was found in a parking garage next to his Lexus."

"Is there a connection between the victims?" Phoebe asked, her mouth stuffed with popover.

"None the police are sharing with the public. The first victim was an assistant at a daycare, another was a known drug dealer, another ran a fruit packing company and the latest guy was a bigwig investment broker. They're all over the board. We're here." Prudence said, turning into one of the many public parking ramps in downtown.

He watched, unobserved once again, from behind a dumpster as his son helped unload an early morning delivery truck. His son…the concept was still fresh. Each time his mind stumbled upon it, he would lose focus on everything else around him.

Leo had spent the last several hours trying to remember the people and places of his life before…before this. Perhaps there would be something in his son's apartment that would help him. He waited until the truck had cleared out and felt the magic in the air swirl. He knew Chris had orbed. Leo closed his eyes, summoning the magic around him and concentrated. When he opened his eyes again, he was standing in the middle of a large loft apartment. The apartment his son lived in.

The kitchen was in the corner of the main living area. It was small and ran down one wall that was painted in a dark cobalt blue. There was no kitchen table, just a stainless steel prep table with matching stools, the kind you ordered from a restaurant supply store, acting as a bar. The rest of the space was usurped by deep couches, thick rugs, oversized floor pillows and, of course, an oversized flat screen television. Large posters from movies and music concerts covered the walls.

Leo made his way to the back of the apartment. There were four bedrooms. He closed his eyes for a moment and let the psychic energy flow through him. Eyes still closed, Leo turned to his left and opened the door to Chris's bedroom.

The bedroom wasn't huge, but it certainly wasn't the size of a jail cell. The walls were a creamy pale green. A king size bed was in the middle of the room, and tall bookshelves lined the longest wall in the room. The shelves were crammed with books. In fact, the whole room was crammed with books. They were piled everywhere, on the nightstand, on the desk. Books were even stacked on the floor in front of the bookshelves. Leo sat in a very old, much worn brown recliner and searched the book titles. There were books on every subject. Biographies, mythology and folk lore, textbooks on quantum physics and mathematics, and how to books for fixing everything from electricity to plumbing. Leo reached for one of the books and as he slid it from the shelf, a single picture floated to the floor. Hesitantly, Leo bent over and picked the photo up, turning it over. It was a picture of himself, Chris and a second boy. One with blond hair and green eyes identical to his own. Images pounded through his brain.

"Daddy, read me a story." Six-year-old Chris was tucked into bed, arms wrapped around a stuffed hippo.

"Yeah, Dad. Read us a story." Seven-year-old Wyatt chimed in.

Leo smiled, "Aren't you two supposed to be asleep?" He had come in to check up on his sons before heading to bed himself. It was late – almost midnight. Leo hadn't expected either boy to be awake.

"We're not tired. Please Dad, just one story?"

Leo turned on the light that sat in between the boy's beds and sat on Chris's bed. "Which story?"

Wyatt reached under his bed and pulled out a book he and his brother had been reading together. It was the story of the Sword in the Stone. The story of King Arthur's legendary sword. "This one Dad."

"Wyatt, you were meant to have this." Leo gestured to the sword that had been run through a large stone. His eldest son was sixteen today, old enough to understand the power of Excalibur – old enough to respect it.

With huge eyes, Wyatt stepped towards the mythical sword in the stone. It had been his favorite story as a kid; he never imagined Excalibur actually existed.

"We wanted you to have this when you were old enough, when you could understand the responsibilities that correspond with the sword and the title you bear," Leo continued.

Wyatt blinked rapidly and looked to his father, tearing his gaze away from the sword. "Title?"

"We wanted you to be free from the burden of your destiny until you were old enough. That's why we have never told you the story of your birth. Of your destiny. The day you were born, all magic ceased both good and evil. Upon your birth, magic was restored to the world. You, Wyatt, are the Twice-Blessed, the heir to Excalibur and the throne of Camelot."

It broke Leo's heart to burden his son with these great responsibilities. But Wyatt wouldn't bear them alone; he would always have Leo and Chris to help him. He could see the confusion in Wyatt's eyes and knew his son had always believed he was just another witch. Maybe some extra special abilities like the ability to orb anywhere in the world, and vanquish demons with lightning that poured out of his fingertips, but still very much the average teenage witch.

Leo put his arm around Wyatt's shoulders and gave his son a half-hug. "Don't worry Wyatt. I'll always be here to help you – as will your brother." He looked down and saw relief in Wyatt's eyes. "I know this is a lot to handle all at once son, but you must remember that the Elders wouldn't have given you these responsibilities if they didn't think you were capable."

Wyatt stared into his father's eyes and nodded.

"What do you say we find out what that sword can do?" Leo suggested.

Chris was sobbing. Leo was in shock. Wyatt reached out and gripped his father's shoulder. "Dad?" Wyatt's eyes were uncomprehending the scene that was playing out in front of him. Leo did not want to understand it either.

He looked his oldest son in the eye and placed one firm hand on his son's shoulder. "I love you and your brother more than you'll ever know Wyatt. Take care of your brother." His son was too preoccupied to notice Leo grab Excalibur off the floor and in a swirl of blue lights, he left.

But why? Why did I leave? Leo thought, slowly coming back to the present. He was tired of seeing only fragments of memories, tired of trying to solve a puzzle to which all of the pieces were missing.

He lost track of time as he sat in Chris's room struggling to regain his past. He did not hear Wyatt return to the apartment.

Wyatt orbed straight to his room from the manor. It was to be only a short stop, long enough for him to grab some scrubby clothes to play basketball in and his painting clothes. Perry wanted to play some basketball and Piper wanted him to finish touching up the walls in the bathrooms. So much for a day of rest, relaxation and naps. As orbs dissipated around him, Wyatt sensed the same familiar presence in the apartment that had been outside P3 the previous night.

The presence was only slightly familiar, reminding him vaguely of someone he had once loved. Probing, Wyatt reached out with his whitelighter senses, straining to discover where in the apartment this mysterious presence was. There was some extra energy coming from Chris's room across the hall.

Wyatt moved across his bedroom soundlessly and opened the door to the hallway. His room was at the opposite end of the hall from Chris's. There was no sign of anyone else in the apartment. It was perfectly quiet. But Wyatt knew someone was there. He crept down the hallway, not wanting to scare the presence off. As he drew closer to Chris's room, he felt a magic radiating from the room. Normally Wyatt could tell if the magic was good or evil, but this presence's magic was murky and grey.

His hand was on the doorknob to Chris's room now, turning it, Wyatt pushed the door forward and entered an empty room. The presence was gone.

If he had not felt Wyatt's magic in that last possible second, Leo would have been discovered. He was outside now, behind P3 and the row of warehouses it stood next to. He looked at his hands; they were still clutching the picture of him and his sons. He looked once more, up to the second story of the nightclub, his gaze wistful. How could he return to the sons he had abandoned?

How's that for an update? Feel free to hit that little purplish-blue button on the bottom left of your screen and let me know what you think! Next chapter will be up really, really soon - I promise. Probably by Friday.