Thank you so much to all the wonderful reviewers for the last chapter: Korzy potterwell, Talhulla, Naruto Loves Femkyuubi, ann, MsDrea and gabyhyatt. You guys feed my muse, and she thanks you much!
WARNING: This chapter has a little child abuse both physical and sexual in nature. If this will be too upsetting or potentially triggering, please, do not read the section starting with Victoria. You'll find out what happened in context later. You have been warned.
Chapter 21
Time played a cruel joke wherein it refused to continue forward, trapping Chris in a horror filled moment. No air entered or left his lungs, and his heart stuck mid-beat with a painful jerk. Eyes locked on the spot where the two people he loved most in the world had been taken, every limb went leaden and he collapsed to his knees.
The only part of him still capable of movement were his frantic thoughts. Looping around and around. Torturing him with possibilities. Like how there had been an athame plunged into his little boy's chest. Matthew could be dead. Scared and alone and in pain before ripped out of the world far too early. Victoria's fate might be worse. The way Cain touched her . . . looked at that sweet, innocent little girl . . .
Chris retched onto the carpet.
A shimmer rippled the air. Bianca's voice beat her body. "I cannot believe you up and left without a-" The words died as soon as she appeared and spotted the state of the house and its owner. Rushing to his side, she dropped to a knee and put a hand on his back. "Chris? Chris, what happened?"
Wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve, Chris took several shaky breaths. "Cain. He has the twins."
"Oh my god," Bianca breathed. "How the hell did he get past Wyatt?"
Wyatt. No. No, no, no, no. Mind flashing to the image of his brother trapped and broken, Chris orbed downstairs in a panic. Locking in on Wyatt's prone form under the cabinets, he rushed to his sibling's side, dropping to his knees. Through their bond, he could only barely feel a flicker of the usually powerful presence. Using two fingers he felt for a pulse, and his own stuttered when he didn't find one immediately. When he finally felt a beat, it was a faint flutter.
"Come on, Wyatt," Chris urged. "Don't do this to me. Please, hang on."
He held up his hands, trying to ignore how badly they were shaking. He willed his latent power to work. Begged the Elders just the once to grant him access to that part of himself. Nothing happened. Just like nothing had happened the day his mother had died. He squeezed his eyes shut against his other self's memory, growling, "Fuck. No. Not happening." He looked up at the ceiling screaming, "Paige! Paige, hurry!"
Bianca appeared a second later, taking in the room and zeroing in on Chloe, who was starting to rouse. The Phoenix rushed the pregnant woman's side as the blonde moaned and gasped in pain. "Hey, it's okay. You're going to be okay. Just don't move. You're hurt."
"The baby," Chloe rasped, violet-blue eyes shimmering with tears. "Something's wrong." She cried out clutching her stomach.
A swirl of blue light formed into Paige, whose mouth parted and honey brown eyes went wide at the sight of her younger nephew's home. When she spotted Wyatt, she inhaled sharply and for a second was frozen in shock. It wasn't often the Twice Blessed, King Arthur was injured. To see him near death was a first.
"Paige!" Chris snapped. "Get over here. I can't heal."
Jerking to attention, Paige ran to his side going to her knees and holding her hands out over Wyatt in one smooth motion. Almost instantly a golden glow flooded her palms, radiating healing over the dying man. The cuts disappeared, broken bones resetting, but he did not stir.
"What's wrong?" Chris frantically questioned. "Why is it taking so long?"
"I need more juice," Paige decided. She held out her hand to him. "Let me tap into your healing power."
He shook his head, looking at her as though she'd lost her mind. "What part of 'I can't heal' did you not get, Aunt Paige? I watched my mother die once because I couldn't, and I'll be damned if I watch my brother die too."
"It's inside you," Paige calmly returned. "Your dad used to tap into my ability all the time before I could do it myself. Now, give me your hand, Chris."
He obliged, holding his breath as his aunt closed her eyes and concentrated. A warmth pooled in his chest. Like sunshine kissing cool skin. Gentle. Welcome. Gloriously beautiful. The sensation ran down his arm, releasing through his palm into Paige causing her healing touch to grow brighter.
Wyatt opened his eyes with a gasp. They immediately fixed on his brother. "Kit, the kids. He was after the kids." He tried to sit up only to sway, winding up in Paige's arms.
"Slow down there, Tiger," Paige soothed, "we nearly lost you. It's gonna be a minute before you're back to normal."
Bianca was cradling Chloe in her arms, using pressure points on the woman's back and hips to try to ease her pain. As the blonde's face contorted in pain, tears staining her cheeks with a sob of fear and anguish, the Phoenix barked, "A little help here."
"Chloe," Wyatt breathed. He pushed away from his aunt, scrambling to get to his feet and to his wife's side. He half-fell in front of Chloe, hands reaching out with a quickly brightening golden light. Watching all the cuts and bruises vanish, Wyatt frowned when his wife continued whimpering in pain. "Chloe, what's wrong?"
She howled in agony, grabbing his hand and nearly crushing the bones.
"You may have healed her," Bianca conjectured, "but I don't think whitelighters can stop labor."
The most powerful witch to ever live looked terrified. Color gone from his slack-jawed face, he helplessly shook his head. "No. It's too soon. The baby is too little. This can't . . . we have to do something."
"Yeah," Paige agreed, "you have to get her to a hospital, Wyatt. See if they can stop the labor."
"And if they can't?"
Chris put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "She'll be okay, Wyatt. When I projected into the future, you had your daughter in your arms in the picture on my wall. My niece is going to be fine, but you need to go. You hear me?"
"What about my niece?" Wyatt shot back. "My nephew. I was supposed to protect them. Only, Cain froze Chloe, and when I tried to fight him, he deflected everything. When he went for the twins' room, I tried to blast him, but he sent it back at me and must have knocked me out. Please, tell me he didn't get them. That you showed up and stopped him. Tell me the twins are okay."
The younger brother dropped his head with a wince. "Cain took them . . . Matthew is hurt or maybe . . ." He couldn't say the word. "I need to find them before it's too late."
"Oh, God, Kit," Wyatt's blue eyes shone with moisture. "I'm so sorry. I'll help you. I'll make this right."
Chris shook his head. "No. Go be with Chloe and the baby. Bianca can help me."
"Hey, what am I, chopped liver?" Paige questioned, hands going to her hips. "I used to be, you know, sort of a super witch myself. In fact, I have an idea on how you can find the twins. A twist on the blood to blood spell. If you reverse the phrasing instead of summoning them to you-"
"I can send myself to them," Chris finished. "Aunt Paige, that's brilliant."
She gave a one shouldered shrug of acknowledgment.
Looking stricken, Wyatt wondered, "Then what? Chris, if he can deflect my powers, he can deflect yours too. Freeze you then kill you. Cain is too powerful. I should go with you."
"He won't be too powerful when I strip his powers," Bianca argued. "Chris just needs to distract him long enough for me to do it. Now, for the last time, take your wife to the hospital, Wyatt. We've got this."
When Chloe cried out again, Wyatt looked brokenly between his brother and wife. Gaze landing on Chris, he opened his mouth only to close it with a heavy breath as Chris gave a firm nod toward Chloe. Swallowing thickly, Wyatt picked up his wife, and with one last regretful, guilty look to his brother, orbed away.
"Paige," Chris directed, "go get my parents and take them to the hospital. Wy's going to be a mess."
"But what about-"
"I can do the spell," Chris assured. "Then, Bianca and I are going to make Cain pay."
000
Victoria Halliwell was her father's daughter. Resourceful. Strong. Brave. With a heart for family above all else. Which was why she was doing everything she could to distract the bad man from her brother. Even when it meant the bad man would run his finger down her face and throat in a way that made her tummy feel funny.
"So much like your mother," the warlock breathed against her face.
His breath smelled like fish. She crinkled her nose.
Gasping, brow soaked in sweat, Matthew croaked from the floor, "You . . . you knew our mom?"
Cain smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. He turned away from Victoria, walking slowly back to Matthew's shivering form. He squatted, tilting his head as he regarded her brother. "Oh, yes, your mother and I were quite . . . close. Such power and beauty. Such a terrible, wicked woman. Another demon of her perfection shall never walk the earth again I'm afraid."
"D-demon?" Matthew broke into a coughing fit. Blood spattered his chin, and he whimpered in pain.
The warlock ran a finger up and down the athame protruding from the boy's chest, breathing deeply as blue energy ran up the handle and into him. He let out an appreciative moan as he siphoned the boy's powers. "I can feel her magic in you, Boy. Dark and delightful. It's why I'm savoring this transfer. Like sucking on rich chocolate to make it last longer."
"Sh-she was . . . was a s-sorceress," Matthew weakly argued. "N-not a d-demon. Liar."
Cain laughed. "Is that what your feeble father has been telling you? If so, he's the liar, Boy. Your mother was far more than a sorceress. She was the mother of monsters." He leaned down to whisper in Matthew's ear. "Guess what that makes you."
As her brother's green eyes filled with tears, either of pain or sadness, Victoria felt a terrible heat fill her little body. Blood seemed to boil and bubble. Organs roasted. Skin seared. She had to release it. There was no choice. If she didn't, she'd burn from the inside out. Letting out a shaky breath, a red mist escaped her lips and drifted over to Cain, who flashed with the color.
The warlock rose to his feet. Turning, he mechanically walked back to Victoria. There was a cloudiness in his dark brown eyes as he gazed down on the girl. His hands ran down her throat, shoulders and continued down.
When the bad man's hands reached the section her Daddy said was a private no-show, no-touch zone, Victoria's eyes filled with tears. Her stomach didn't feel good. Then the bad man put his mouth on hers and did strange things, and all she could do was whimper in protest. She was scared. Really, really scared.
"No!" Matthew screamed. With the last bit of strength he had, he conjured an athame directly into Cain's back. Then with a gasp the boy's head lolled and the dark of unconsciousness claimed him.
Cain roared back, reaching around and yanking out the blade. He tossed it to the ground and marched over to the boy, kicking him square in the ribs hard enough the child rolled to his side. More blue energy drifted up the dagger and Cain breathed it deeply. With a sadistic smirk down at the dying boy, he put a hand over his own back and a healing glow closed the wound. He then turned a predatory eye to Victoria.
Little heart racing, Victoria couldn't see through the tears in her violet eyes. She felt like she did the time she ate all her Halloween candy at once and threw up. Only worse. She sobbed, "No... stop."
To her shock, the bad man did. With a puzzled frown, Cain froze mid-step. "What the devil . . .?"
Victoria took in a shaky breath, blinking away as much of the moisture as she could. Matthew didn't look good. She had to save him. Family came first. Always. Daddy said so. Swallowing the icky climbing up her throat, she set to work trying to figure out how to get out of the chains and to her brother.
"You bewitched me," Cain growled. "Undo it. Now. Or I swear I'll make our time together as painful as possible, Girl."
She didn't know what he meant, but she didn't think it was good. He was a very, very bad man. Even worse than most warlocks and demons. She had to get Matthew away from him. She pulled her chains tight and tried to yank her hand out of the cuff. Wriggling a wrist until it was raw, she finally managed to squeeze it through.
The warlock gritted his teeth and, as though fighting through a freeze, forced his feet to move reluctantly forward. "Not as powerful as your mother yet. You can't hold me."
With a hiss, Victoria jerked her other wrist out with a snap. Tears of pain raced down her face, but she forced herself not to think about it. Not to look down at her wrists that hurt so bad. She had to get to Matthew. She could orb them out of here. Away from the bad man and back to Daddy.
Racing toward her brother, Victoria had nearly reached him when she was caught around the waist and violently hurled to the ground. She tried to orb, but Cain pinned her down, covering her mouth with his rough hand. She tried to bite him, kicking and thrashing.
Cain grabbed a fistful of her chestnut hair and pulled hard. He then moved his mouth to her ear, breath hot against it as he warned, "This didn't have to be as bad as it will be now."
Just as the man's mouth landed on her throat, he went hurtling into the far wall like a rag doll. The cavern wall shook, dust flying up at the impact.
"Get the fuck away from my daughter you perverted son of a bitch."
Victoria let out a breath of relief at seeing her daddy. Then she frowned because he'd said two bad words. One really, really bad word. Daddy never said bad words. He also looked kinda scary. His eyes were super dark and his face was mad in a way she'd never seen before. She was so shocked to see her gentle, silly Daddy that way she froze in place.
Whipping out a hand to send the monster careening into a wall and pinning him there, her daddy was staring at the bad man when he yelled over his shoulder at her. "Victoria, get your brother to magic school! Now!"
Blinking back to attention, she scurried on hands and knees to Matthew. Every movement sent a sharp zap of pain through her broken wrist and up her arm. She didn't stop. Didn't slow. Reaching Matthew, she grabbed the handle of the dagger with trembling hands. Sucking in her lips, she pulled out the dagger. As blood bubbled out, she gagged and had to keep blinking really fast. No time to cry right now. She had to help Matthew. Gently placing a hand on her brother's shoulder, a bolt of fear ran through her at how sweaty his shirt was and how cold he felt to the touch. She pushed it down. What she felt didn't matter. She had to save Matty. She orbed.
When they appeared in the Great Hall, Victoria got to her feet and ran down the corridor screaming for help as loudly as she could. Spotting her teacher, Mrs. Winterbourne, the girl grabbed the old witch's hand and nearly drug her back to the Great Hall.
At the sight of Matthew, Mrs. Winterbourne's face got really white. Her voice sounded strange as she assured, "It's going to be all right. No one can die in Magic School. We'll find a whitelighter or an elder. Matthew is going to be just fine, Dear. I promise."
At the promise her brother was going to be okay, everything Victoria had been holding in crashed over her head like a wave. Sobbing, she threw herself at the teacher, clinging to her for dear life. She cried until, like her brother, she had no recourse but to pass out.
000
Warlock. Monster. Neither word was sufficient to describe Cain. For a being who would stab an innocent boy, abuse a little girl, Chris didn't think there was a term vile enough. A punishment suitable enough. Though, he sure as hell planned on trying to dole one out.
With Cain pinned against the wall unable to raise his hands to deflect Chris' powers, the witchlighter used the leverage to telekinetically break every finger on the warlock's right hand one at a time. Slowly. As the monster screamed with each crack, Chris felt nothing. The image of this thing on his child kept him from having an ounce of remorse in torturing him to death.
"You think you can stop me?" Cain rasped. "You're pathetic. A plaything just like your daughter will be."
Fire flared in Chris' veins and with a shout of rage, he swiped his arm through the air shooting Cain into another wall hard enough pieces of the ceiling tumbled down. Looking at the crumpled warlock, he was filled with a bloodlust he'd never had before. He squeezed his hand closed watching as the monster desperately clutched his chest.
Then suddenly with a slight blur, Cain transformed into Lamia. Her flame red hair. The violet eyes that would haunt him to his dying day. In the demoness' voice, Cain taunted, "Hello, Young One."
Panic shot down Chris' spine. He involuntarily took a step back, his telekentic hold dropped with his broken concentration. Logically, he knew it was still Cain. That the man had stolen the ability to shapeshift from Matthew. That it was a trick to manipulate him. It didn't stop his breath sticking in his throat. Didn't stop his heart from pounding his ribs. Didn't stop the horrible sensation of her touch from making his skin crawl and stomach churn.
Cain rose from the floor and damn if he didn't move just like Lamia. Leisurely. Seductively. In complete control. The warlock stopped in front of him, running a finger down the side of Chris' face, throat and pausing to trace patterns on his chest just like Lamia used to.
Chris squeezed his eyes shut as anxiety swept through him. It's not her. It's not real. Oh God it feels real. It feels so fucking real. Like she's back. She's back and she's going to make me . . .
Images flashed in his mind. Lamia's legs wrapped around his waist, her claws raking through his back as he pumped inside her, and they climaxed together. His head between her legs. Her fangs in his throat sucking him until he passed out. Shit, shit, shit, shit.
"You were a good little whore," Cain taunted. "So willing. So obedient." The warlock moved his mouth to Chris' ear, breath hot. "You know you miss me. You wanted me. Loved me even. After all, I gave you everything."
Suddenly, Cain lurched, mouth falling open and eyes going wide as he gasped in pain. He looked over his shoulder to find Bianca with her fist in his back, the blue energy he'd devoured pouring into her arm slowly leaving him powerless.
"Chris," Bianca barked, "say the damn spell."
Chris couldn't breathe. It was a full panic attack the likes of which he hadn't suffered in years. His ribs felt like they were closing in on him, heart ricocheting between them painfully. His mind was too full of horrible memory to think. To regain control of itself.
"Say the spell," Bianca repeated. "For your kids, Chris. Say the spell for Matthew and Victoria."
At the mention of his children, strength and conviction returned to Chris like a zap of lightning. Anger burned hot on his skin and seared his stomach lining as he remembered what the monster had done and wanted to do to his kids.
"Not yet," Chris lowly stated, "first he suffers." With the squeeze of a hand, he shattered the warlock's right arm making the monster scream out. "For Adam." Using a come gesture with his finger repeatedly, he telekinetically ripped off each of the monster's fingernails one at a time, earning a howl of agony after each nail tore free from nerve bundles. "For Matthew."
By now Bianca had finished siphoning away Cain's powers, and dropped the man to the floor returned to his true form. Quaking violently, tears of pain ran down his thin, very pale face.
It wasn't enough.
Chris moved to tower over the warlock, looking down on Cain with the purest hatred he'd ever felt. Twisting a hand, he watched unfeeling as the man grabbed his genitals and howled. "You put your filthy fucking hands and mouth on my daughter. Now? Now you get to live the last few seconds of your miserable life as a eunuch."
When the man nearly passed out, Bianca reached down to grab a fistful of his hair, pulling him up to his knees. "Oh no, you don't get to miss a minute of this you sick jackass."
The warlock couldn't form words, only garbled sounds escaping out his mouth.
"Time for amends," Chris began reciting, "and a victim's revenge. Freezing power turned sour. Power to change turned too strange. I'm rejectin' your deflection."
Bianca released the monster as flames licked his body. As he tumbled forward, he burst into flame until he was nothing but ash on the air.
"May you finally rest in peace, Adam," Bianca murmured. Taking a deep breath, grieving for her husband for a moment, she then flicked her brown eyes to Chris' green. Quietly, already knowing the answer, she asked, "Are you all right?"
Chris' eyes grew a telling shine. Swallowing hard, he shook his head. When Bianca moved to comfort him, he took a step back, holding up his hands. "Not now. I don't . . . don't touch me for a while."
Immediately stopping to grant the distance he desired, she nodded, mouth forming a thin line of worry. Knowing this man better than anyone, she said nothing. Watching and waiting and worrying instead.
Five minutes passed. Finally, Chris' old mask went back up. The stoic expression he'd worn nearly every day when they'd fought against Wyatt. He straightened and folded his arms. Not a hint of weakness anywhere to be found. Voice purposefully and tightly controlled, he finally spoke again. "I need to get to Magic School. Could you go to the hospital and find out what's going on with the baby?"
"Chris . . ." It was obvious she wanted to object. That she didn't want to leave him. Still, she closed her mouth with a sigh and nodded. Locking eyes with him she promised, "Once I get an update I will meet you at Magic School."
He nodded.
Only after Bianca had shimmered out of the cavern did Chris allow the mask to slip again for a second. Hanging his head, he fisted his hair, pulling hard. He felt shaky and sick. Though, contrary to what Bianca thought, it had nothing to do with him. No, he'd conquered his demons the day he let himself love the twins. It was them he feared for. Their terrified little faces he couldn't get out of his head right now. And one thought plagued him on a vicious loop.
What if the damage Cain had done to Matthew and Victoria was the kind that couldn't be healed?
000
Matthew had been moved to the Headmaster's Office where a soft couch sat against the wall, which was where the boy hovering between life and death was lying. The only thing keeping the child part of this world was the magic of the school, preventing Death from claiming him.
When Chris orbed into the office Mrs. Winterbourne was sitting in a chair with Victoria on her lap. The little girl was asleep in the old teacher's arms. The old witch whispered, "This one cried herself to sleep. That one needs healing, but I haven't been able to get a whitelighter or elder down here yet."
Chris' heart hurt. His little girl was not okay. God only knows what Cain had done to her before he got there. What he saw was bad enough. What if that monster had . . . No. He couldn't go there. She was asleep now, so that was a blessing. He'd let her sleep. Focus on his son first.
Turning to squat next to the couch, the young father lovingly brushed sweat slicked bangs from the little boy's forehead. Matthew was clammy and pale as snow. Chris' stomach twisted hard. He'd almost lost his son today. He could still see the bloody wound from where the dagger had punctured his child's chest. In this moment, he could understand all the looks his own father had given him over the years. Terrified. Grateful. Like he was looking on an apparition. Or a miracle.
Chris lowered his head to his little boy's. Tears pricked the back of his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Matthew. I should've been there. I should've protected you. I love you so much, Kiddo. You and your sister are my world. I couldn't survive without you two."
A warmth pooled in his chest. The same blissful sensation he'd felt when Paige had channeled his healing ability earlier. Head jerking up, Chris stared open-mouthed as his hands softly glowed golden over his son. Tears did slip from the corner of his eyes. Tears of relief. Of joy. Of pure love.
Love enough to finally grant him access to the power to heal.
Wound vanished, pallor back to its normally sun-kissed tone, Matthew blinked thickly before opening his eyes. He locked in on his father but instead of excitement, relief, happiness or love there was hurt buried in the boy's green eyes. Anger.
"Matthew?" Chris questioned softly. "What's wrong?"
Chin quivering, the little boy said the one thing that would change all of their lives forever. "Our mom was a monster . . . and so are we."
TBC . . .