2025 cont.
"Biotech industries will this week announce that it could be ready to distribute millions of doses of vaccine to combat the threat of magical beings known as warlocks to the medical community across San Francisco in the coming few months," the reporter on the television announced. "This will see the demise of creatures that have terrorised our community for an expansive period of time. This vaccine has spent years in production and only a one hundred percent result rate in the past four months has given Biotech Industries the go ahead to produce it on a national scale. Separately next week, Biotech Industries is expected to announce a research and development day to give investors an update on promising future products. The news will be taken as a further sign that the company's pipeline of new medicines is continuing to strengthen. We believe it will focus on their anti-infective program which includes possible treatments for HIV and cancer."
"That's interesting," Wyatt said, cocking his head as he tried to take in every significant detail of the lab from the television screen to determine its location.
"What is?" Bianca asked, her eyes still trained on the newspaper in front of her. She flipped over the page and glanced through the obits. She hadn't intentionally taken up the practice Greg had told her about all those years ago but just found it to be natural instinct now.
"The mortal species have developed a way to eradicate a few of my enemies. I never actually thought any of them would try to help me."
"There's probably some catch," Bianca murmured nonchalantly.
"Yes, they're not going to inoculate us," Wyatt said, standing. "They'll view this as a step towards destroying the entire magical community. They feel threatened by us because we're different, because we have more powers at our disposal. I'd rather view their provision as an underestimation. They fail to see that we, like them, are members of the same society. We can get the upper hand here. C'mon."
Bianca, paying little attention to his ranting, looked at him apprehensively as he placed a hand on her arm. Before she could ask where they were going he orbed them both to the industrial side of San Francisco. The place where they were seemed a lot more modern and grander than other deteriorated buildings nearby. They stood on a long paved driveway before dark iron gates that rose at least three times the height of them from the ground. The gates were sealed closed, but inside the grounds Bianca could see lush green grass and a building made of reflective blue glass that mirrored the outside world and concealed that which lay within. A large sign off to the left declared they were outside the office of Biotech Industries.
"You want the vaccine," Bianca stated with a wry smile as she realised why they'd come.
"Well I don't see any other way we could help ourselves," Wyatt said, lifting his hands to blow up the gate.
"Why didn't you just take us inside?" Bianca questioned, watching him flick his fingers, sparks resonating off the metal but little being achieved otherwise.
"Well given the exposure of the laboratory and the high profile of its medication, I expect the place would be filled with magical booby traps. They're just as opposed to witches as warlocks you know."
"Yes, but you're also part whitelighter," Bianca pointed out. "They don't know anything about them."
"True," Wyatt agreed. "But it helps to employ a diversionary tactic. Besides, I want some credit given to me for what I do. There're too many covens and demonic warlords out their claiming my work is theirs. I'd like a little recognition for a change."
"If you're trying to work your way through the seven deadly sins, I think pride is your worst characteristic," Bianca reprimanded.
"There's no harm in wanting a little attention." Wyatt shrugged.
His gaze travelled back to the road as the sound of tires crunching over loose gravel revealed a car approaching their location. It stopped at the base of the driveway, one man in uniform whose hair and complexion were almost the colour of snow exited the vehicle and walked towards them.
"Oh, look, company!" Wyatt quipped joyously towards Bianca. He smiled broadly as the man halted before them. "Good evening, officer."
"Anything I can help you with?" the officer asked, suspicion ripe on his face.
"Why, yes, in fact you could. I was about to give this fine young lady from the Bay Mirror a tour of the facility in the lead-up to our announcement, but it appears I've lost my key. You wouldn't happen to know another way of getting us in, would you?"
Bianca stifled a laugh at Wyatt's over-pleasantness, turning away quickly to conceal her amusement. It was not a typical thing for Wyatt to act so nice towards someone, especially someone who held some power and authority. It was twice as ridiculous for him to think that the police officer would buy his story when neither of them was wearing anything closely resembling a suit. In fact Wyatt was dressed so casually it would have been easier to believe he was a tourist who'd lost his way.
"No," the officer answered. He indicated back towards the gates. "Why don't you call one of your friends in there, get them to let you in?"
Wyatt held up empty hands. "No phone."
"Miss?"
Bianca looked back to the officer, immediately becoming resolute as her gaze hardened. She knew he was asking about hers. All good reporters carried a cell phone.
"It's broken," she said flatly.
Wyatt took a step closer. He was taller than most people, and she knew he often looked more intimidating when he was towering over someone he was trying to threaten. Height often worked to his advantage.
"I can't help you in," the officer said deftly, watching Wyatt closely.
"Can't or won't?" Wyatt asked, his tone now lowering to one that was serious and demanding. "We could always bargain with you – for the lives of your wife, your children…"
The officer looked at him smugly. "I'm not married."
Turning his head slightly, Wyatt raised an eyebrow inquisitively. Quickly Bianca glanced back towards the patrol car, making certain that the secondary officer still seated behind the wheel had not become aware of the trouble about to befall them through secret codes or body language.
"Partner?" Wyatt guessed, remembering not everyone in San Francisco was heterosexual. Seeing the officer back down, he knew his assumption was right. He turned to Bianca. "I keep forgetting there's a whole other side to San Francisco, and it's not magical."
"You're not going to be able to threaten your way inside," the officer spoke, putting on a braver front.
"Look, lieutenant… Malfoy, is it?" Wyatt queried, peering at the embroidered name on his shirt and trying to decipher the deteriorating thread. Flicking his hand in front of him as he straightened, it appeared as if he were swatting a bug but from the corner of her eye, Bianca saw the petrol tank open, the cap loosening and clattering to the ground as a flood of liquid began to pour from the hole and down the side of the car until it puddled on the ground. The quick motion of Wyatt's fingers told her that he was doing it. "I appreciate the fact that you're trying to do your job here, but we are also trying to do ours. You're leaving me with very little choice."
Malfoy grabbed for the intercom on his shoulder to call for backup. His full attention on Wyatt, he did not see Bianca close in on him. She snatched the transmitter from his hand and expertly wound the cord around his neck before he could even holler a protest. Bianca looked expectantly over his shoulder at Wyatt, waiting for him to give a command or finish what he planned to do. He chose the latter. Orbing a fist sized metal ball into his palm, he gently tossed it up and down in his hand.
"I've always wanted to try one of these. We never got to use them in baseball back at school. I wonder if I've lost any of my pitching skill."
Reeling back, he threw the glistening metallic ball at the car. It landed at the back wheel, splashing up dark drops as it crashed in the puddle of fuel. Exploding upon impact in an array of silver sparks, the car rocked to the side, a series of flame engulfing it. Bianca glanced back, her hand still fastened around the intercom. Realising he was in life-threatening danger, Officer Malfoy began to squirm harder to pull away from her, but her hold on him only tightened with the effort. This situation covered with a backdrop of roaring flame gave her some kind of satisfaction that she was doing what she should be.
"No backup, no transport, what are you going to do?" Wyatt taunted. He looked at the man thoughtfully, his gaze shifting to meet Bianca's. "It would be a shame to waste this opportunity. Let him go."
Bianca looked at Wyatt with bemusement but did as he asked. Officer Malfoy rubbed hit throat where Bianca had made the cord dig into his skin.
"You're tempting exposure," Bianca said warily. Wyatt shook his head with reason. He knew how to get what he wanted.
She saw him raise his fist to his mouth and then flatten out the palm in Malfoy's direction. She could see a small pile of what looked to be residual orb matter on his hand – whitelighter dust. Gently he blew the small pile across his fingers, the particles speckling onto the officer's body.
"You were ambushed while out on patrol. Your memory is hazy over what exactly happened – you can't remember by who or why. You do remember that Wyatt Halliwell played a part, and that everybody should fear him because he holds such great power. Those who are willing to oppose will be destroyed. If you discover anything in the future to do with this Wyatt character or Phoenix witches you will immediately bury it and no attempt at charges will be made. Now go back out to the main road and flag down some help for yourself."
Like a drone, Officer Malfoy turned and walked away from them, his expression vacant as he seemingly ignored them like they were only a part of the scenery and not really there at all.
"What did you do to him?" Bianca questioned heatedly, unsure if it was such a good idea to let someone walk away like that.
"Just covered him with a little whitelighter dust so he'd follow my instructions," Wyatt answered.
"You brainwashed him," she said, looking at him doubtfully.
"If I was into that kind of thing I'd have done the whole city by now. I didn't brainwash him, just influenced his thoughts. That's the power of suggestion. I'm certain I would already have been reprimanded if I had done something wrong."
"Are they frightened of you?" Bianca asked.
"Who?"
Bianca waved her hand profusely towards the sky. "Them. The Powers That Be."
Wyatt smirked, replying innocently: "What reason do they have to be scared of me? I haven't started with them yet."
Orbing into the corridor, Wyatt flattened himself back against the wall, pulling Bianca with him. Peering around the corner, he turned his head towards Bianca, his long blonde curls sweeping over his shoulder as he lifted a finger to his lips.
"Shh," he cautioned.
"What do you mean 'shh'?" Bianca snapped. "You just made a pact with the police! You're not going to get into any trouble."
Wyatt glared at her - she wasn't being anywhere near as quiet as he requested she be. "I may have done something to enable us to walk about freely, but that's not going to help us attack anyone – we still need to implement the element of surprise. But if you continue to get on your high horse and berate me so loudly you're bound to ruin that."
Bianca let out an insolent sigh. Wyatt turned his attention back to where he was looking previously and inched forward, Bianca following closely.
"How do you know where you're going?" she asked.
Wyatt tapped his head. "Sensing powers come in handy sometimes."
"Thought this place was supposed to be magically booby-trapped?"
"Well, yes, intuition plays a hand as well. Like… that," Wyatt said, lifting his hand and waving the approaching probe into the wall. Smashing into pieces, it collapsed uselessly to the ground, sparking as the wires became unearthed from the jumbled mess. "Damn technology."
Weaving in and out of corridors, lowering themselves under Perspex windows as they passed various offices and laboratories, Wyatt finally pronounced their arrival at the laboratory that they needed. Bianca looked at him quizzically, her gaze passing from the contents of the small room back to him. It didn't look any different than the other seven they had passed.
"What makes you think this is the one?" she asked.
"Try to get in," Wyatt said.
Bianca approached the door and tried the handle. Although through the window she could see there was someone inside, the door was firmly closed and not able to be opened.
"It's locked," she declared, turning back to him.
"Well don't look at me so hopelessly. You know of more than one way to get in."
Glowering at him, she lifted her head and tried shimmering her way inside. Her body disappeared for only a moment before it reappeared again tilting forward and stumbling a step as if someone had thrown her.
"Now what did I say?" Wyatt teased.
"You knew that was going to happen," she said bitterly.
Wyatt smiled. "I'm not going to deny it. Want some assistance?"
She looked at his outstretched hand, taking her own and slapping it roughly into his palm. As she had pointed out before, the only way to evade problems such as magical barriers was to get around them through the use of whitelighter powers. It was making her become ever more reliant on him to manoeuvre around the building and do what he had brought them here too. Depending on someone else was not something she did easily.
They orbed into the laboratory and found not one, but two men inside. The second had been crouched behind a table, pulling something from the lower shelf. He rose, staring disbelievingly at the two figures in front of him, the other scientist so focused on his work he seemed not to notice.
"Who the hell are you? And how'd you get in?" the first scientist asked.
"Someone with a vested interest in your product," Wyatt answered. "You wouldn't deny an ally?"
The first scientist nudged the younger one next to him, drawing his attention to the intruders. Startled, he almost knocked everything on the table over.
"Which product?" the first scientist asked innocently. Wyatt rolled his eyes dramatically. His sight passing over to a series of corked vials on the back bench, he scrutinised them with interest.
"Is that the vaccine?" Wyatt questioned.
"What do you want if for?" the first scientist followed.
Wyatt lifted his hand, surveying the man as he floated up into the air. Waving his hand quickly to the side, the first scientist flew straight into the wall, bringing down and shattering an assortment of glass flasks as his body crumpled to the ground.
"You ask too many questions, old man," Wyatt remarked to the dilapidated form before making his way around the table to the vaccine.
"No, don't!" the younger scientist protested, taking a step towards Wyatt.
Bianca now found herself the key between success and failure. Speedily she shimmered between the two men, conjuring a dagger and placing it against the throat of the young scientist.
"Don't what?" Bianca questioned coldly.
Gulping as he looked down at the wrist and arm extending from the hand at his throat, the one with the ability to end his life in seconds, the young man tried to see past Bianca and appeal to Wyatt.
"If you take those, there'll be nothing left," the scientist said. "My mother, Tanya Williams, she had to deal with a warlock when she was pregnant with me. He came from this time to stop the makers. I was the only one that survived. Please, it'll take many more years to develop this treatment if you ruin it now."
"Then you shouldn't advertise," Wyatt said, shrugging of the plea. Collecting the vials into his hands, he lifted his head and stared at the scene off to his right, giving one simple unfeeling order. "Kill him."
As he orbed out, Bianca looked into the scientist's frightened eyes. He wasn't even trying to defend himself, his hands occasionally seeming to feel for something on the counter but nothing was in easy reach.
"Any last requests?" she asked, feigning interest.
"Let me go," he pleaded. "You got what you came for. There's no need to spill blood over this."
Her lips curving slightly into a twisted smile, she glanced down the body of the shaking man and spotted an ever increasing stain growing on the front of his trousers. He really was scared of her. And despite the encompassing warmth of power, something in the back of her mind was telling her this was wrong. She almost thought her mind had echoed and suspended from her body when that voice interjected that doubt from behind her.
"He's right," he agreed.
Bianca knew she was taking too long – any other situation and she would have been overpowered by now. But that voice, the oh so familiar one, lingered with her and she refused to obey it, refused to concede and disobey Wyatt. She sank the edge of the blade into the flesh, not too deep, but enough to position a sharp steady slice. The young scientist cried out at the sting, drops of blood dribbling onto the flat of the metal and trickling down his neck.
"Bianca, stop it!" Chris demanded. She froze, the dagger not moving one way or the other. "You have a choice. Walk away from this."
"Go away, Chris," she warned. "You can't tell me what to do. Wyatt—"
"Is gone. He abandoned you, Bianca. He got what he wanted and left you to clean up the mess."
Bianca bit her lip, trying to hold back the emotion that was bubbling to the surface. She knew Chris had no idea how much his words were affecting her – she had told him nothing of her past. As if sensing he was upsetting her, Chris took on a softer tone, cautiously stepping towards her.
"You don't have to do this," he said reassuringly. "You can be free. I'll take you away from all this. I promise I will."
All at once her wall came crashing down – he had spoken to her the words she had waited her whole life to hear. Never before had anyone said that to her, had promised her such a grand thing with such empathic emotion. Never had she been able to believe in someone like she believed in him right now. She didn't think anyone had ever cared about her before – at least not enough to grant her freedom from the things she hated about herself, her life, her situation. It was the first selfless act in her favour. The thought that Chris actually cared about her, actually loved her enough to say that, brought tears to her eyes. Hitching a breath as she tried to reclaim some kind of status by holding off the tears, her hold on the dagger's handle loosened and she kept her eyes locked on the scientist.
"You should be thankful," she said, nodding her head slightly as the tears welled in her eyes, her steady voice a true mask to the pain she currently felt inside. "He just saved your life."
Pulling the dagger away, her hand dropping uselessly to her side, she opened her palm and let the dagger disappear with a flourish. Defeated, the tears falling freely now, she turned and took a step towards Chris. Lifting his arms he wrapped them securely around her body and drew her closer. He held onto her tightly as she cried, glancing over to the nervous and bewildered young scientist. He knew they needed to get out, and he was the key to her escape.
Orbing from the laboratory, he took her to the memorial garden at Golden Gate Park – the very place he had first made her aware of the wrong she was doing. He hoped that if she saw it all again, if he could remind her, then she'd remember all that he had said. And with that hope he had the belief that maybe he could help her, that he could change all this and that finally she may feel safe enough to open up to him and give him real answers as to what had happened between them.
Gently he pushed her away from him and eased her down onto the stone seat, her hands falling to the edge as she gripped onto it like she needed some additional support. He stood before her, looking down on her as she bowed her head and tried to get herself back under control, the tears receding to sniffles before she looked up to him. Inspecting the look on his face, she couldn't help but let out a little hostility in an attempt to bring her defences back up, to push him away for daring to see her like this – exposed and weak.
"Don't feel sorry for me," she said.
"I won't," Chris replied shortly. She looked at him with surprise. He folded his arms defensively. "I mean, why should I? You didn't show me any kind of sympathy or reason when you ended things between us. I do have feelings too, you realise. Not everyone can be as indifferent as you."
"I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry I'm not perfect." She paused, waiting for a sign of forgiveness or an appreciative understanding but his eyes only darkened. "I can't live up to what you want me to be. I can't just make it all better."
"I don't want you to make it better. I want you to help me understand. You never even gave us a chance. Every time I tried to get close to you you'd just put up a wall or turn away. Nothing I could do or say could change your mind. I don't know if it's you, if it's me, tell me Bianca. Am I wasting my time?" he queried. "Tell me right now if you want me to go, and I will."
Numbly she shook her head. She didn't know how to answer him. She cared about him now, really cared, and she knew despite this defensive bravado he felt the same. As if sensing his tactic was not exactly winning her over, he relaxed slightly. She had given him the answer he had hoped for; he didn't need to be paranoid about that now. Moving to her side, he swung a leg over the stone bench and lowered himself onto it. Sliding himself towards her, he reached forward and took her hand from the side into his own, his other hand coming to rest on her knee.
"Then why do you keep running away from me? I need to know the truth, you owe me that much. You know I would do the same for you. What are you running from?" he asked softly. She looked up at him, so scared to admit any of it to him. He could see the fear in her eyes, the fear that coursed through her body making her blood run cold and her heart beat faster. "And don't use Wyatt as an excuse."
"He's not an excuse. He's been shielding me from my past, from the Phoenix. That's why I went back to him, that's why I stay with him. I owe it to him for all he's done. I didn't want to betray him like I have been my whole life." She looked away from him, not even sure how much detail she should go into. Pulling away slightly in her uncomfortableness she decided to broach the issue with her mother and the coven itself, but not go any further. "She hated me, you know. My mother. She forced me into doing this. Just because this was the way she liked to live. She didn't want me around after my father died – I was ruining her lavish lifestyle. Her work was more important to her than I was. Then she tried to make me be like her. The whole coven wanted me to be like her – no, to surpass her. And my whole life she lied to me, they lied to me, all of them. I was caged in with these huge expectations placed on me, and nothing was ever good enough – not for her, not for the boss. I hated it."
"I can empathise. I know what it's like to have a parent not care about you," Chris said softly. Bianca looked at him misty-eyed, both sympathetic and questioning. How was it he could know? How could he understand? How could he go on pretending everything was okay in his life if he held the same pain inside? "Dad was always busy with the Elders. If there was ever a problem down here, sure he'd drop everything and come running if it was Wyatt, or even mom, but not me. He would hardly even look at me. I felt invisible around him. I felt ignored. And no matter what I did I could never live up to the great magical prodigy that was Wyatt."
Bianca shifted herself back towards him. She could see the tears in his eyes, and now she knew. The resentment went far beyond some little spat they'd had. It stretched for miles, and Chris had been severely affected his whole life. She lifted her hand, brushing away the tear that rolled silently down his cheek.
"Wyatt always took his attention," Chris continued. "It was always Wyatt this, Wyatt that. Mom could see I was suffering. She tried to make up for it, but it was hard. Wyatt would always do something to distract her. He even put the attention back onto himself at mom's funeral, throwing a hissy fit and storming out. Of course Dad was there to stop him, to comfort him, but he barely even said a word to me. You know not one single person came to me to offer their condolences? The only person that cared at all was my grandfather; he was the only one that made me feel like an actual person, he was the only one who even tried to help me. I don't know if I would ever have made it through without him. Dad vanished off the radar and Wyatt was too busy acting out to give a shit about me or anyone else. Grandad was the only family I had left." Chris looked up to the stars in the sky, sniffling as he tried to keep the tears from falling, but every time he thought he had control of himself, another memory would come back and fresh tears with it. "Cancer got the better of him… and now I've lost him… I've got no-one to hold onto."
Bianca brushed the tears from her eyes, not aware his story had started her crying again. She took his hand into hers warmly, moving up to him as close as she could get.
"Chris," she said tentatively. He lowered his head, his eyes meeting hers. Gently she traced the tracks of his tears with her fingers. "You have me." Her voice was soft and reassuring, carrying the hope that he needed. He watched her intently as she inched ever closer to him, her lips just inches from his own. "You have me."
She shut her eyes to the world, to the darkness and pain as she pressed her lips to his, sinking into the warmth and comfort he had to offer, that which she was willing to return. It would not be the same as last time. This time they knew each other. This time they had shared something, bared part of their souls. Now he was not just a passing interest but someone she loved.