Paige's Demon
sequel to A Halliwell Halloween
"All Hallows Eve
You came to take
One of the three
Our bond to break
Demon or mortal?
The Coven of Three
Summons you here
Desiring to see …"
Standing in a circle around the pentacle in the attic, Piper, Phoebe and Paige chanted the spell and stood with bated breath. The moments ticked away in silence, in the whistle of the wind outside and the rhythmic breaths of the three.
Phoebe shrugged. "Looks like it didn't work."
"I don't understand it," said Piper, frustrated.
"Look, we don't even know what he is. Honestly, Piper—it's dangerous to try and summon him here. I never thought you of all people would put our asses on the line because of a demon."
"If we don't find him, we're going to be one ass short," retorted Piper.
"Enough about my ass, okay?" Paige said. "Anyway, if he had shown up, Piper said the pentacle would hold him."
"No, she said she hoped it would hold him long enough for us to find out who he is and then vanquish him. She said it should hold him. Just a minor little detail, there," said Phoebe.
"David—or whoever, whatever he may be, God help us—showed up at Charmaine's the day after the party, asking questions about little sister here, right? And of course she told him everything about us, but bless me if she knows anything about how to locate him, so we got bupkus. Paige can't seem to find anything identifying what or who he is in the Book of Shadows. Let's see, we talked to Darryl—so just what else do you suggest we do in order to find him? Or should we wait until he comes after Paige again, is that a better idea to you? Because if he finds her alone, she may not be able to fend him off—she even said so," said Piper.
"And if we all get killed because we don't know who we're dealing with—" Phoebe started.
"Look, don't talk about me like I'm not here. I am so sick of you guys treating me like … like … how you're treating me! I know I can't control my powers yet, but I'm not in that boat alone, now am I? I mean, Piper can't decide whether to freeze someone or blow them up!" Paige yelled.
Dead silence. Piper and Phoebe exchanged looks.
Piper turned to look at Paige with lifted brow. "Point taken, but do you really think that was necessary?"
"Well, maybe not in that exact tone," Paige admitted.
"I'm going through the Book of Shadows again," said Phoebe. "There's got to be something there. Some possibilities."
"I'll help," offered Piper. "Better than just standing here and waiting for him to decide when he'll come back."
Paige stared at them both. "I'm heading out," she said abruptly.
"Paige, don't you think you should stay and help us?" said Piper pointedly. "He's your demon, after all. If that's what he is."
"If he were a demon, the spell should have summoned him, right? And I've been through the book several times. If Phoebe wants to check up after me, okay, but I'm not going through it again, at least not yet." Paige sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Look, I've got some stuff to take care of. I'll be back."
Piper and Phoebe exchanged looks once again. Paige rushed down the attic stairs and out the front door, slamming it on the way out. Upstairs, Piper jumped in her seat.
Paige strode angrily down the sidewalk, fuming. She really had no reason to leave the manor other than that she needed to get away from her sisters. She didn't even know them two months ago, and honestly? At the moment she wished she'd never met them at all.
She sighed, finally slowing her pace. She'd been on edge ever since the Halloween party. All the confusing, conflicting feelings she'd had and was still having for David, not the least of which was the guilt she felt, hiding the truth about her feelings. He'd tried to kill her, but she hadn't been able to move away so much as an inch, and worse—she hadn't wanted to move away, though she hadn't been able to make herself confess that to her sisters. She'd always taken care of herself. She couldn't understand these feelings, couldn't accept them. She knew her sisters wouldn't, either.
The worse part was that she still felt this crazy urge to help him. She wanted to find him again, not just so they could vanquish him. She wanted answers. She wanted to know what had happened to him to make him change out there on the gazebo.
Paige kept walking until some of her fury left her, then belatedly looked around. Where am I going, anyway? Her aimless meandering had led her into a more commercial area.
She decided to turn back to the manor. As if things weren't bad enough, she had another problem, a serious one, one that felt as though it were skittering out of control. She'd been having miserable, constant cravings for alcohol. She'd thought the worse of that was finally over, yet here she was craving booze like a junkie. Again.
On the night of the party, she remembered feeling exactly as if she'd been drinking. It triggered something in her, and ever since then she'd wanted to drink—remembered the taste as it first hit your tongue, the radiating warmth going down, the good, loose feeling afterward.
Paige stopped and swallowed, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
The first thing she noticed as she opened her eyes was the bar situated just around the corner on her right. She stuffed her trembling hands into her pockets, screaming a silent thanks! inside her head to the powers that be. She stood still in the middle of the walk, the desire for a drink growing as each second passed.
You're in control. You're strong. Don't do this.
She walked around the corner and through the door of the bar.
In the attic at the manor, Phoebe sat on the couch perusing the Book of Shadows. Piper had fallen asleep some time ago against her shoulder, and Phoebe, while reluctant to disturb her, was starting to find it uncomfortable. She studied one page intently until, with growing excitement, she sat up, throwing a slumped Piper carelessly back against the cushions.
"Was that necessary?" grumbled Piper, half-awake.
"I may have found something, Piper. I just may have found something!" said Phoebe gleefully, showing her the page.
Asenoth
Descendant of the demonAsmodeus, the destroyer, demon of lust, described in the Book of Tolbit as the slayer of the seven husbands of Sarah. Asmodeus gives the power of invisibility to mortals.
Son of the lamia, Asenath, a vampiritic succubus: "They are the Lamiae, wenches vile, with brazen brows and lips that smile." - Goethe
Asenoth is a seducer who feeds from the life-force, sexual energy and occasionally the blood of his victims. He delights in corrupting the innocent, using emotions such as self-doubt, guilt and isolation to achieve his goal of domination and possession. He is capable of discerning mortal emotions and in a limited manner, thoughts. Like Asmodeus before him, Asenoth hates water.
"Well, it's a definite possibility. Paige told us she felt powerless—drunk—" said Piper.
"—and this would explain why," finished Phoebe. "He sounds like a nasty character," she added somberly.
Piper stood and stretched. "They're all bad-asses until we get through with them." She grinned, hands on her hips.
Phoebe looked startled at Piper's bravado, then laughed aloud. "Which leads me back to this—if it is him, why he didn't appear when we tried to summon him?"
Piper shook her head, then said, "Maybe because we didn't use his name? If he's powerful enough he might have been able to resist a spell that doesn't name him." She looked up at the ceiling. "Leo!" she called, tapping her foot. "Oh Lee-o—"
Before she finished, Leo orbed into the attic.
"Hi, sweetie," said Piper, and moved in for a kiss. Leo returned it, then smiled a greeting at Phoebe.
"What do you know about a demon named Asenoth?" asked Phoebe.
"Off hand, not much. He comes from a powerful line, and I understand he's got a particularly nasty way of operating. He enjoys the hunt. Why?"
"We think he could be responsible for the attack on Paige at the Halloween party," said Piper.
"I'm worried about her, Leo," said Phoebe. "She's been really preoccupied and touchy lately. And your wife hasn't made things any easier on her."
"Am I being too hard on her? I don't think I know how to deal with her yet, Phoebe." Piper sighed.
"Just … be her sister," Phoebe said.
Piper gave her a wry look. "I am. I think that's the problem. But something is definitely on her mind," she agreed. "Not the least of which is that she doesn't seem too thrilled to be a part of this family at the moment."
"Been there, done that," Phoebe said, yawning. Piper and Leo threw her a look. She made a face at them. "Leo, since there's no vanquishing spell in here, why don't you check with the Elders and see what they can tell us. Shoo, now. Go on."
David hadn't been out of his flat much lately, hadn't been writing, either. He was trying to figure out what the hell was going on, had been going on since that damned Halloween party. He didn't even know why he'd gone to the party in the first place. An acquaintance had told him about it and urged him to go, seeing how he himself hadn't known many of the people attending. At the last minute and on impulse, David had agreed.
And then he'd met Paige. There were no words. She was special. He knew it the minute he laid eyes on her. The instant attraction between them had only added to his infatuation.
He remembered being in the gazebo and kissing her, but then everything got screwed up in his head. He remembered things that couldn't have happened, that he'd never have done, all of it from a bystanders point of view, like none of what was happening had anything to do with him. A patchy, lunatic nightmare.
Face your memories, he thought. Your mental state is eroding and precarious, at best, and you are obsessed with the idea that you harmed her, and you did it deliberately.
The night of the party was the beginning of what he'd begun to think of as his sickness, and now it was spreading and deepening, leaving him with no memories for hours at a time. Just a big blank. He was exhausted all the time and scared of what was happening to him.
But David knew Paige was safe, because he'd checked. The day after the party, he'd went to Charmaine's house and found out where Phoebe and Piper lived.
Charmaine hadn't even known about what had transpired at the gazebo, other than the fact that there had been some commotion outside, but when she'd checked all had been quiet. Charmaine had been quite concerned about Phoebe, implying that there was some sort of scene between her and her boyfriend inside earlier. They'd slipped out afterward.
Later that afternoon after leaving Charmaine's and feeling like all kinds of a stalker, David had stationed himself down the block from the Halliwell manor. It didn't matter how he felt, though. The important thing was that he'd seen Paige, and she was fine.
He hadn't had to wait long—about an hour after he'd gotten there, he'd seen her leaving her sister's house. He wanted desperately to talk to her, to see her again and hopefully get this nonsense out of his head once and for all before he lost his mind, but he was still confused enough about what had actually happened that night that he hadn't approached her.
Today would be different.
David shut the door of his car, barely noticing the fresh air and cool, brisk breeze ruffling his hair. He looked up at the Halliwell manor, admiring the old building, the stained glass. He looked up and down the sidewalk and then stopped short, shading his eyes to better view the distant figure walking briskly in the opposite direction. It was Paige. He was sure of it.
Sprinting down the walk, he rapidly shortened the distance between them before thinking better of his actions and hanging back. She walked for quite a while, David following carefully behind.
God, talk about stalking—first he had spied on her and now he was following her. Paige stopped suddenly and turned, and he thought he was caught but she never looked up. David hastily stepped off the sidewalk and away from the road before he made himself stop hiding. This was getting out of hand.
He watched as she disappeared into the door of a neighborhood bar. He stood, undecided, then made up his mind and followed her inside.
Paige sat on a stool at the bar. A neon sign lit the small window and an eclectic selection of plaques, posters and mirrors hung everywhere on the walls. Paige got the attention of the bartender, hesitated, then ordered bottled water.
Water isn't what you want. You know what you want. You're tired of fighting this, aren't you? She turned the water up and drank half the bottle at once, then put it down on the bar and rubbed her forehead, trying to push the thoughts away. She thought of her sisters. It was no use. She'd shut them out already and she didn't know how to go back, start over again.
With a quick gesture she summoned the bartender and ordered her first drink.
"No, don't." David stepped up behind her, grabbing her arm as she raised the drink to her mouth. She raised her gaze to meet his pale eyes. They stayed that way for a long, frozen moment. Slowly Paige set the glass down on the bar. "Will you come sit with me? Just for a moment?" She didn't answer, but she followed when he moved to a table at the back of the bar. She sat down across from him and waited for him to speak, feeling strangely detached. Who knew, maybe that's how it was actually supposed to feel, sitting down with a man who'd tried to murder her.
"Something happened to me when we were outside in the gazebo. It's like I was there, everything was normal, I was happy because I'd met you, and then … I wasn't. I wasn't me. What I remember—it doesn't feel like my memories. I mean, those sorts of things don't belong in my head because they're not—Jesus, what I keep seeing, it isn't anything I would do. Unless I've gone insane and don't realize it—that's something I am actually, seriously considering, but … look, I know I'm not making any sense but I'm trying, believe me." David rumpled his already tousled hair. "I know we'd just met, but it didn't seem to matter—it's—the thing you have to know is that I felt something for you. I know something horrible happened between us. I don't want it to be true, but I know it did." He sighed. "I wouldn't ever want to see you hurt, Paige, not ever. I swear I wouldn't. Please say you believe me?"
"David, you threatened to kill me. Now you want my forgiveness?"
He looked shaken. "I did?"
"You did worse."
"I don't—I wouldn't! I don't understand any of this. One minute I'm doing research, getting ready to start a new book, stuff that I always do. The next thing you know I'm doing some damned Jekyll and Hyde thing. I feel like I only have control of my body and my mind part of the time." He raked his hand through his hair. "And the worst part is—you remember me saying something about possibilities? I'm beginning to realize how much I've lost, if I'd ever had a chance with—with you. If you'd ever have let me have a chance. Then I had to bugger it up by going crazy." He gave her a brief, sad smile. "If there was anything I could do to make it up to you, I'd do it, but of course there isn't. Except getting away from you. That's safest." He nodded once, slightly, then again, and moved as if to leave. He glanced at the bar, halted, and turned back. "One more thing. If you take a drink now, you may never get that monkey off your back again. Fight it. Beat this damn thing into the ground, once and for all." His eyes searched hers.
Paige realized she'd been reaching for him and jerked her arm back. "How? How do you know about the drinking?"
"I just know things now. I don't know why."
"What's going to happen to you?" Paige asked, surprising herself.
"I don't know. I don't know how to stop any of it or I would. Believe me." He stood up. "It's not your problem. I think you've had more than enough of me already."
Paige grabbed his arm. "Just tell me something. What kind of research were you doing?"
He looked baffled. "The book is supernaturally focused. Demons and hell, the bogeyman and the like." He smiled tiredly. "See you around, Paige. And I'm—"
"Stop, okay? I know you're sorry." She nodded to herself, having made a decision. It was one based purely on instincts and emotion and one she dared not think about closely. "I can help."
David stared at her. "You can help?" He echoed. He shook his head. "Me? How?"
"Never mind that. Trust me. It's all about … possibilities." She smiled up at him.
He flashed a smile in return and moved as if to touch her hand, but suddenly halted. "Go, Paige. Just leave."
"You probably shouldn't follow people and then ask them to leave. They won't believe you mean it."
David didn't reply. In an abrupt turn-around Paige remembered all too well, the warmth gradually drained from his face. Paige felt nauseous, watching the transformation. She rubbed nervously at the bruise at the curve of her shoulder and neck. It still ached from where he'd bitten her out on the gazebo, and the mark was an ugly purple-yellow bruise, dark against her skin. David looked at where she rubbed and smiled.
It made her angry. She stood up next to him, studying the cold, malevolent mask that took place of his formerly open demeanor. Maybe the thing, whatever, inside him, was threatened or somehow goaded when anyone got too close?
David towered over her, using his height to intimidate. "Did you forget this?" His hand wrapped loosely around the front of her neck. He smiled, eyes cold as she jerked back. "I didn't think so. I'm starting to remember more myself." His fingers moved to touch her face.
A flash of uncertainty crossed his features. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, and she saw a glimpse of his old self. "You're so beautiful. I want you, Paige, but I know I can't have you. Don't make him want you, too. It isn't wise."
Paige's heart pounded. "I know you're not him and I know he doesn't want anything to do with you." She thrust her face close, staring levelly into his empty, murderously cold eyes. "I'm gonna kick your ass back to hell where you belong. You've tangled with the wrong sisters."
His laughter followed her as she left the bar.
David woke suddenly. His head pounded, and his mouth felt like a desert. He sat up on the bed and stifled a moan. God, his head hurt.
Slowly he opened his eyes. He was on someone's bed, alone. To the left was an overturned bottle of whisky on the nightstand. He looked toward the foot of the bed and froze.
A dark-haired woman lay at the foot of the bed close to the wall, clad only in her underwear. The wall was smeared with blood. It oozed out of the woman's neck. It smeared her dark hair. It trailed from body to sink into the carpet.
His mind went blank. He stared at the woman. God, she looked familiar. The bar. He'd seen her at the bar when he was there with Paige.
He got up on trembling legs, knelt by her body and felt for a pulse. There was none. She was warm. Her jaw was slack, and saliva pooled underneath. Her eyes were empty, blind.
I did that. Hurt her. Killed her.
He looked down at his thighs, fingers white as he wrapped his hands around them and squeezed hard. Keep it together. He wanted to cry, but shock blanketed him.
When he could he pulled himself up, away from the woman's body. His spine tingled, morbidly afraid of having his back to her. He made it into the living room, located the phone and called 911. He didn't know the address when asked. He almost threw up while he was still on the phone.
Then everything went blank again. This time he welcomed it.