PRISONER'S KEY

Chapter 2

It was almost a week later before Leo had a chance to carry out his clandestine order, much to Rhiannon's chagrin. The Manor was in an uproar when he returned and Leo found himself confronted with an ancient Egyptian demon in search of the perfect body for his lover; Darryl's career was on the line; and to top it all off, an insane Cole created a Catch 22 situation where Piper had to choose which of her sisters would live and which would die.

It wasn't until those issues were resolved and life had returned to a more or less peaceful state, that Leo remembered Rhiannon's instructions. He wasn't certain if Cole was rational enough again though to talk to the Elder, then decided it wasn't for him to decide. He'd let Rhiannon deal with his former brother-in-law.

He orbed straight into Cole's living room, experiencing a moment of mild surprise that Cole never bothered to put up wards against such unexpected visits.

The room was dark, lit only by the glow of the city lights coming in through the windows. In the gloom, Leo could make out a guillotine standing in a corner. The blade gleamed dully and looked frighteningly sharp. Leo shook his head, muttering to himself where had things so gone wrong. Was there anything he could have done differently, anything that would have changed the outcome? Because no matter how vocal Phoebe announced she was "over Cole", the whitelighter knew she was hurting deeply. And he did feel responsible for all the Halliwell girls. They weren't just his charges; they were his family.

"What are you doing here?" Cole's toneless voice reached Leo, forcing the regrets to the back of his mind.

He peered into the darkness, in the direction of the voice. It took several seconds until his eyes adjusted and he managed to make out a human shape. Cole slumped in an easy chair, his expression hidden beneath the shadow of unshaven skin.

"Did you come to gloat? Or to kill me off?" Cole let out a humorless chortle. "That would be most welcome, you know."

"I know." Leo approached the other man. He wrinkled his nose at an unpleasant smell, which somehow reminded him of P3 on a slow night. "I can't kill you, you know that. Even if you weren't as indestructible as you are, I'm a pacifist, remember? Although, to be honest, I do think you deserve to die, for the choice you tried to force upon Piper." He failed to keep the anger out of his voice.

"Yeah. Sorry 'bout that. Was only trying to get Phoebe back." Cole's speech was a little slurred, and Leo recognized an empty glass in Cole's hands. Ah. Hard liquor. That explained the smell.

His tone softened. "I know. Anyway, that's not why I'm here. There's someone who wants to meet you."

"Who?" Cole suddenly sounded hopeful.

"Cole. It's not Phoebe. It's an Elder, Rhiannon, with a proposition for you."

"An Elder?" The hopefulness changed to suspicion. "Why would an Elder want to meet me? Is this some plot to vanquish me?"

"Of course not," Leo said. "And even if it were, what do you have to loose?"

"Why doesn't this Elder come to see me here?" Cole sat up and placed the glass on the coffee table. He appeared interested despite himself.

"Because it's too dangerous here. For Elder Rhiannon, not for you. So, are you coming or not?"

Cole considered for a long moment. "I'll come. I'll listen to what your Elder has to say. I got nothing better to do anyway. Damn guillotine couldn't even get the job done."

* * *

Cole hated orbing; it left him feeling woozy and disconnected, as if he had been taken apart and put back together on a molecular level. Which, come to think of it, was exactly what was being done during an orb. It took Cole a second of two to get his bearings once Leo let go of his elbow. Of course, he was honest enough to admit, if only in the privacy of his own mind, the half-bottle of scotch that he had consumed before Leo's arrival didn't improve matters.

Once he felt whole again, he glanced around, curious to see where Leo had taken him.

They appeared to be on the rooftop of a high apartment building. A large city spread out before his eyes. Little lights glimmered like stars far below on the ground, moving rapidly. Cars, Cole thought. In the distance, he could make out the illuminated Golden Gate spanning the dark void of the Bay. So, they were still in San Francisco.

A pale, tall shape floated forward from the shadows. As the figure came closer, Cole realized the Elder wasn't really floating, but wore a long cloak that hung to the ground. A deep hood covered the Elder's face.

"Elder Rhiannon, this is Cole Turner."

Leo seemed tense, Cole noted. Perhaps he feared Cole would attack his Elder.

He felt a pang of sadness. True, once upon a time he wouldn't have wasted a second thought on the matter. Killing an Elder would have given any demon instant high standing with the previous Source, and great rewards. But his evil days were over. Besides, even if he had wanted to, Cole doubted he had the energy left to take on an Elder.

"Thank you, Whitelighter Wyatt."

Cole started at the sound of her voice. For the first time he realized that the name 'Rhiannon' denoted a woman instead of a man. He'd always assumed all Elders were male. He peered into the shadows of her hood, trying to make out her features. She obliged him by pushing back the hood from her face. Cole blinked.

He had imagined every single Elder to be exactly what their title described: an elderly gentleman with a gray beard, long, white hair and a face like a crumpled newspaper. Rhiannon was nothing like Cole's mental picture. Instead of finding the imaginary gentleman, he looked into the smooth face of a handsome woman. Dark-red curls lined her features and fierce eyes sparkled from pale skin. She didn't look a day over thirty-five, he decided. Of course Cole also knew how looks could be deceiving where magical beings were concerned. She was probably older than he was.

"So," he said. "You're an Elder?"

She smiled, offering him a view of a row of even, white teeth. "Yes. And you're the man that causes such turmoil."

Cole raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

Rhiannon laughed. "Oh, Mr. Turner, the Council is very concerned about you. You give rise to a lot of discussion and dissent." She glanced over Cole's shoulder. "Leo, if you please? I'd like to speak privately with Cole."

Cole was growing more and more sober with every new discovery. In spite of his depression, this woman's appearance and the apparent secrecy surrounding their meeting piqued his interest. He wondered what she wanted to discuss with him. He was no longer worried that it was a trap. Betrayal was the sole dominion of evil; it wasn't the side of good's way of doing battle. Besides, if it were a trap and they killed him, he would probably thank them for doing him a favor before he blew out his last breath.

"You must be curious why I asked to meet you," Rhiannon said as soon as the last blue spark of Leo's disappearance extinguished.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I am." Cole folded his arms in front of his chest and pulled himself up to his full height. Again he realized Rhiannon was tall. Her eyes were an inch or two shy of being level with his.

"Then let me get to the point right away. I have been following your... career for a while now, Mr. Turner. About since the time Phoebe Halliwell fell in love with you. You are a very intriguing specimen. A demon who falls in love with a witch and changes his life around for her. I admire you for your effort."

"Yeah, well," Cole interrupted bitterly, "if you've been keeping track of me, you will also know that things didn't turn out quite so well after all."

"I know. I'm sorry. I wish it were different, but Phoebe Halliwell has made her choice, and she will have to live with it. The question is, will you?"

"Excuse me?" Cole said, bewildered.

"Will you start making your own choices? Or continue to let others make them for you? Although the Council of Elders does not agree with me, I don't think you are evil. And I think you deserve to have a free choice what to do with those powers you acquired. I can help you use them to do what's right, give you a chance at redemption. Cole, you were a demonic soldier of fortune once but not of your own volition. I want you to work for me now, for us."

"What about Phoebe? Can you help me get Phoebe back?"

Rhiannon sighed. "No, Cole, I can't. Some things even an Elder can't change. Like I said, she has made up her mind." She paused for a moment, and when she continued, her voice had taken on a stern note. "You have two options: you can accept what is and what no longer can be. Or you can keep pining away in that prison of your own making until someone finally figures out how to vanquish you. You hold the key, Cole--you alone."

Cole barely listened. "If Phoebe's not part of the deal, then it's not a deal worth discussing. I'm not interested." Without waiting to hear if she had to say more, Cole blurred and returned to his apartment.

* * *

Rhiannon watched him disappear, her expression a mixture of surprise and disappointment. She'd been so certain he would be ready to take her offer for help, to snatch at the chance to give purpose to his life. He was so lost. She realized she'd underestimated the power of love -- again. She should have known better, with her penchant to interfere in star-crossed love affairs.

She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. Well, she thought, pride goes before a fall. She ought to know by now that nothing was ever certain in life.

She wandered over to the edge of the building and looked out across the city. It was quiet up here, the clamor of the city dulled by distance. The breeze was cool on her skin as it whipped her hair about her face. She shifted until she was facing the wind. Sometimes, she missed Earth. She missed the feel of the wind through her hair, or sunlight warming her face, even the splatter of rain on her skin. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine it was a cool summer's day, back home in Wales, a long, long time ago. She could believe she was riding Hwyrddydd, that most gorgeous of black stallions, with the wind in her hair and the sun on her face. Jeremy would be beside her, his eyes alight with love and pleasure and--

Her eyes snapped open and she shook her head. Such memories were useless; they only made her miserable. She had work to do. She wasn't quite ready to give up on Cole Turner yet. She knew she could out-stubborn him. After all, she was a cymráes lân, a true Welsh woman.

With a soft chuckle at her own expense, Rhiannon pulled the hood back over her head and called for Leo to take her back up.

* * *

Seven more days passed before Rhiannon thought Cole might be ready for another discussion. A week filled with more murder, mayhem and madness than she wanted to contemplate. Perhaps tonight she could talk some sense into the man.

The club was shrouded in darkness when she entered. Music pounded from bulky speakers and the air was heavy with smoke and spilled alcohol. The lights were low, except for the few spotlights trained on the platforms where the girls were performing. Well, Rhiannon mentally amended, if you were to call harpies and succubi 'girls'. She looked at them for a moment, twirling around poles or wiggling their bottoms at the customers. They were pretty enough, she supposed, if you liked that sort of thing.

She was glad she had changed into more worldly clothes before coming to this bar. The spots spread the kind of light that made everything white light up in glowing blue neon. Her pale robes would have made her stand out like a burning candle during a blackout. If anyone realized who, or rather, what she was, her life was forfeit. The Council of Elders wouldn't lift a finger to help her; not when she had disobeyed their strict orders not to interfere. But she simply couldn't let matters lie. Despite what the Council thought, it was too important.

Once her eyes were used to the murk, she peered around. She found Cole slumped in his usual spot where his frequent visits had caused a depression in the cushions. He was not moving; his eyes pointed straight ahead. Rhiannon sighed. This project of hers was going to be harder than she initially thought.

She was about to make her way through the throng to where Cole was sitting when she noticed the girl in front of him. For a second, her eyes widened. It couldn't be-- Then the girl gasped in pain and morphed back into the bottle-blond vixen she really was. As she pulled away, Rhiannon caught a glimpse of dull, red blood glistening on the knife in the Cole's hands.

"O'r annwyl," she whispered. "Lord, give me strength." Was he lost to her? He had killed a human being today. An innocent, a woman whose only crime had been to be in the wrong place at the wrong moment. And here he killed a shapeshifter demon in front of her eyes. A shapeshifter who had looked exactly like Phoebe Halliwell. Perhaps it was too late for Cole Turner after all. Perhaps she wasn't meant to save him. Maybe she would be better off letting nature take its course.

No, Rhiannon told herself, and she continued to work her way to Cole. Beneath all those demonic powers beat a human heart. He deserved every chance she could give him.

"Did that make you feel better?" She slipped into the seat beside Cole.

He glanced her way and his expression hardened. "You again," he hissed. "You got some nerve, coming here. Do you know how easy it would be for me to kill you in this place? Nobody would blink an eye, and they'd cheer once they realized what you are." He turned his full gaze on her and Rhiannon had to suppress a shiver. His eyes were filled with an angry insanity, and they were cold and hard.

"You didn't answer my question," she said. "Did it make you feel better, plunging a knife into a Phoebe clone? Is that what you are planning to do now? To kill her?"

"Yes," Cole replied through gritted teeth. "If I can't have her, nobody can."

Rhiannon raised an eyebrow. "Really? What happened to the man who was willing to give up his powers out of fear he would hurt the woman he loved?"

Cole studied her face, his look long and hard and unwavering. At last something shifted in his eyes and instead of hatred, Rhiannon recognized the pain hidden deep within. His shoulders sagged and he sank even deeper into the soft seat.

"You're right," he whispered. "I could never hurt Phoebe. The real Phoebe."

Rhiannon inwardly let out a relieved sigh.

Cole waved away a scantily clad succubus with dark brown hair and a full bosom. He looked at the dancer on the platform in front of them, apparently admiring the way she undulated her body around the tall, metal pole. Rhiannon suspected she was a lamia, a serpent woman; no skeletal body could move in quite such a sinuous way.

"Why are you even here? You must know that I killed an innocent today."

"So I've been told. Would you do it again?"

He looked at her. He desperately wanted to say 'yes', she could see it in his face. Rhiannon thought she understood. If he couldn't be good, at least he could try to be evil.

"Maybe," Cole said at last, looking back at the girl wrapping herself around the pole. "Probably not."

Rhiannon felt the weight fall from her shoulders. She had not misjudged Cole after all. "It hurts, doesn't it? Knowing how you snubbed out a life. Knowing you took away a future, a marriage, kids."

His head whipped around so he could stare at her again. His eyes were moist. "How do you--"

She offered him a gentle smile. "You possess a human soul, Cole. It's a rare human that can kill without remorse." Fortunately, she added in the silence of her mind. Their work would be so much harder without the soul providing a moral compass.

"I could do it before. It never hurt this much. Are you saying I didn't have a soul then?" He barked an uncomfortable laugh.

"No, you've always had a soul. You have your human father to thank for it. But your demonic half, and later the Source's influence, was able to suppress it. Leo told me it wasn't even easy for you to kill your first demon, after Belthazor was gone."

He grunted in response.

"Are you ready for my offer of help now?"

Cole was silent for a long time. At last he spoke. "No. I haven't given up hope yet. There has to be a way I can win Phoebe back."

"Cole--" Rhiannon stopped herself. She had already said everything there was to be said in their previous meeting. The decision was his, and only his. All she could do was wait until he was ready, and pray that in the meantime he wouldn't do something so irreversibly evil that it would destroy his soul and his chance at redemption.

She got up. He refused to meet her eyes but kept staring at the dancer.

"You know how to reach me, if you change your mind." She waited for an indication that he had heard her, but Cole sat unblinking, motionless. A few seconds later, Rhiannon got up and made her way out of the club.

TBC