Peter shimmered into Coles' penthouse apartment. He was no stranger to a penthouse. Many of his former clients had lived in such places. They afforded all the luxury money could buy. And most demons on the mortal plane insisted on the very best.
But the scene that greeted Peter was unlike anything he could have imagined. It looked like a bomb had gone off in the apartment. A great deal of the furniture lay in shambles. Most of it had charred marks that looked very reminiscent of the impact from a fireball.
Scattered about the room were dozens of empty alcohol bottles and prescription pill bottles. Peter examined several of the pill bottles. Digoxin, Procan, Quinidine, and Lidocaine. These were life saving medications for someone with a heart condition. But in a healthy individual they were deadly. And there were dozens of such empty bottles strewn about the room.
Half-finished meals and pieces of papers were scattered about the room in haphazard fashion. To Peter it looked like someone had simply dropped the food where they had finished with it. The entire penthouse reeked and he fought down a gag at the stench. It smelled as if it hadn't been cleaned or aired out in weeks.
Carefully Peter picked his way through the rubble. He could hear movement in one of the other rooms but he couldn't determine what that movement was. Cautiously he crept up and peered through a half open door into what turned out to be a bedroom.
Cole stood in the center of the room holding a fireball. His clothes were filthy and he had more than a few days growth of beard. As Peter watched, Cole cast the fireball at a full-length mirror perched in one corner.
The fireball struck the mirror and the reflective surface caused it to rebound back toward him. It struck him full force knocking him to the floor. But instead of being vanquished Cole simply stood up, laughing to himself and brushing the residue of the weapon off his chest. Peter opened the door and stepped into the room.
"Who's your decorator?" he asked. "Post modern pig sty if I'm not mistaken."
"Peter," Cole gasped, turning to see his son standing in the doorway. "I… I never expected to see you again."
"I can imagine. Of course, I never expected to see you again either. The return of the prodigal father. Shall we kill the fatted calf and throw you a party?"
Peter's glance slid around the room. It was in as bad a shape as the rest of the penthouse.
"You're not much of a housekeeper are you?"
"What the hell do you care?"
Cole's frustration gave way to temper and found a target in his son.
"What the hell are you doing here? You made it quite clear the last time we talked you never wanted to see me again. Have you come to torment me further? Gloat over the poor pathetic state of your father?"
"I came to talk with you. I met Uncle Baldasor a while back. He told me some things that started me thinking. I thought you might be able to answer some questions I have. Questions about my mother."
Hearing his son call Baldasor uncle twisted a knife in Cole's gut. His son who couldn't bear the sight of him and never called him father. And his anger blossomed to rage.
"Baldasor?" Cole spat the name like an epitaph. "He never could be trusted. Now he goes behind my back and talks to you. What did he tell you? How I'm such a disappointment to him? How I betrayed everyone I ever knew?"
"Actually he told me about your initiation into the Brotherhood. He said everyone was very proud of the way you handled yourself."
"Sure, why not? They played me for a fool. Duped me from beginning to end. And then gave me this crap about how I had done such a good job. You said you wanted to learn about your mother. What do you want to know? How she was so easy to fool? How I said a few sweet words and gave her some flowers and she practically fell into my arms?"
Peter was fighting to control his temper in the face of his father's wild-eyed ranting.
"Don't talk like that! She wasn't like that. She told me about when you first met. You were the perfect gentleman."
"Oh yeah, sure I was," he sneered.
Peter missed the strange cunning light that crept into Cole's maniacal eyes as his addled brain formed a plan.
"I was such a perfect gentleman that we were married only a few weeks later. She couldn't wait to jump into my bed. An up and coming lawyer on the fast track to the top. She knew what that meant. She knew I'd be raking the money in hand over fist. That was your dear sweet mother. A woman who prostituted herself for what she thought would be a life of luxury."
"Damn you! Shut up! Shut your lying mouth, " Peter bit out through clenched teeth. "You said you never meant to hurt her. You talked like you even cared about her. You apologized to her at Phoebe's house for what you had done to her."
"Of course I did. You were going to kill me. I didn't have any powers to protect myself with. I would have said or done anything to stop you."
"I don't understand? Why are you like this? What could be so bad that you would turn on everyone and everything that ever meant anything to you?"
"Who said anything was bad? You always said I was nothing but a demon. No morals, no ethics, no redeeming factors. I'm just showing you how right you are. Everyone who meant anything to me? Who said anyone ever meant anything to me?"
"What about Phoebe?"
"What about her? Like you said when we first met, she was just another part of one of my elaborate schemes. Just like your mother was. I could have had any woman I wanted. Did you ever ask yourself why I chose her? Why she was so quick to marry me?"
"No," said Peter his temper barely in check. "She just told me she loved you. And you claimed to love her."
"Love?" Cole's taunting laughter had an eerily hollow quality. " Love? Is that what you think? Love had nothing to do with it. She was a means to an end for me, that's all. And her. All she wanted was a rich husband to keep her in luxury for the rest of her life. She was nothing but a common whore with delusions that she was better than she was. And she saw me as her meal ticket. Pure and simple."
Peter struck Cole as hard as he could with his fist. His partially demonic strength would have been more that sufficient with just about any human. But this was no human he had struck. Coles' head snapped to one side. He turned and looked at Peter, a smile crossing his face.
"Is that the best you can do?" he said taunting Peter. "Is that your best shot? Come on, boy. You're the son of the infamous Belthazor. Respected in the underworld and feared by witches everywhere. And you don't have anything better than that?"
Peter hit Cole again. And again Cole's head snapped to the side. But it was hardly enough to cause Cole more than a minor sore jaw. Cole reached up and pushed Peter. His son went flying back into the living room falling over a piece of furniture.
"You're pathetic," said Cole. "I would have expected more from my son. You're nothing more than a bastard who has delusions of grandeur. Just like your pitiful mother. Always reaching beyond your grasp. Trying to get what you can never have. You're a loser just like she was. A loser who died alone grieving for a man that never gave her a second thought. A man who knew her for what she was. A gold digging bitch that only cared about someone's bank account."
Rage coursed through Peter's veins like wildfire through a dry timber forest. He changed into his demonic form and formed an energy ball. Seething and trembling with hatred he glared at his father.
" Close your filthy mouth," he growled. "You have no right to talk about my mother. Not after what you did."
"And what are you going to do about it? You're more human than demon. You can't even use fireballs. You have to use those pathetic energy balls. Like I said. Just a pathetic wannabe. Like your deplorable mother. Nothing but common trash that has no right to even call yourselves human."
The harbored hatred of a lifetime exploded and Peter totally lost any control he'd ever had. He hurled the energy ball at Cole. The weapon struck his father full force sending him careening back against the wall of the bedroom. As Cole fell to the floor arms spread wide open and covered in the power of the energy ball, Peter stalked toward him forming another one.