2026 cont.
It was still light outside as Wyatt found time to sit in the armchair of his living room, his ankle squared over the opposite knee as he leafed through the book in his lap. The sounds of Chopin tinkered their way through the silence of his apartment, adding a remnant of relaxation to the quietness within.
"That's exquisite sir," Conway said.
"What is?" Wyatt questioned indifferently, glancing up from his book, not at all surprised to have seen the demon's sudden appearance.
"The music, sir."
"I would have preferred Vivaldi," Wyatt said with a shrug, returning his attention to the book.
"I don't wish to interrupt your quiet time, sir, but in my travels this afternoon I came across something you should know about."
"Mmm, what's that?" Wyatt mumbled uninterestedly, flicking over the page.
"The lady was with your brother."
Wyatt stopped, looking up with confusion. "Bianca?"
"Yes sir."
"With Chris?" Wyatt questioned, his voice raising a notch. Conway nodded. Wyatt cast the book aside, instantly rising to his feet. "Where are they? Is she okay?"
"They're at the memorial garden by the Conservatory of Flowers. And she's more than fine, sir. She was kissing him."
The concern on Wyatt's face was quickly replaced by shock. He felt as if his stomach dropped to the ground, disappointment and anger rife through his system. It was difficult for him to believe it was true, but what else could explain the change in Bianca, the sudden disappearances, all those times he had left their company they could easily have found their way back to one another. He needed to see for himself, he needed some kind of vindication, and he didn't need this becoming some kind of gossip to bring him down.
"Have you told anyone else about this?" Wyatt asked, clenching his hands tightly to stave off his anger.
"No, sir, I came straight to you," Conway said cheerily, under the impression that with this piece of information he would be able to take Bianca's place in the ranks.
"Good," Wyatt said, sounding eerily calm. Conjuring a short blade into his hand, he thrust it into Conway's abdomen, watching as the demon perished before him in a waver of flame. "I'll deal with this on my own."
Orbing over to the location Conway had informed him of, Wyatt snuck his way around the garden hedges, keeping low so as not to be seen. Just as Conway said, they were in the middle of the memorial garden, seated on the stone bench, looking rather cosy together as they talked softly. He sat on the grass, straining to hear what they were saying, but all was lost across the distance. Instead he decided to stick with viewing, slowly starting to regret that he had.
Bianca's hand snuck around to the back of Chris' neck, sliding up through his hair as she pulled him closer, pressing her lips against his. Revolt and disgust turned Wyatt's stomach as he saw Chris' hand slide up her leg, lifting her skirt slightly as his fingers disappeared beneath it. Bianca pressed herself further into Chris, her mouth opening slightly. Wyatt looked away, envisioning their tongues tangling, the pictures getting more detailed and involving in his mind. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Looking back to them, checking to make sure his eyes hadn't betrayed him, he saw the exact same thing; Chris' hand now firmly attached to Bianca's waist. Just when he thought he could take it no more, when he was about to rush forth and stop them, he saw Chris orb them out. So it wasn't a ploy. It was true. And right now Wyatt felt as if a thousand swords had been driven through his heart.
"How dare he?" he seethed, rising to his feet, staring at the stone seat they'd left behind as he stepped into the garden. "She was mine!"
Generating an energy ball into his hand, he cast it at the spot where Chris had been seated only moments before. Turning, he surveyed the rest of the garden. The prettiness, the romanticism - he abhorred it entirely now that he knew what it represented.
"I'm a patient man," Wyatt reminded himself, trying to dilute his anger. "I waited enough time for this, but I did not expect you to steal her out from right under my nose!"
Lifting his hand he spun again, casting the energy ball back towards the stretch of shadow. He watched as it knocked the head off the stone angel statue the dark mass belonged to. Decapitation was a nice way of envisioning what he wanted to do, but still he felt it wasn't enough. No, he had to destroy the place completely. It was the only way he wouldn't have to look at it, the only thing to keep from being reminded of what he just saw. In a self-satisfied way it felt as if he were destroying their relationship. He lifted his hands, a warm yellow glow emanating around them. As quickly as he could have sneezed, he pushed his power forward with unbelievable force. Grass uprooted from the ground, flowers became airborne, and all of it flowed its way over and under the stone seat towards the back wall which steadily caved in, giving sight to the dome which sat behind, the roof again falling in for the first time in just over three decades. Pillars fell all around the statue as it darkened like it was being singed, seeming to deteriorate before his eyes, and now what once had been beauty had taken on the appearance of something bland and dirty, almost ugly. He stared at it for a while, feeling void and empty of sensation, before orbing back out to the street. He didn't know what he was looking for, a cheap motel maybe, but he didn't particularly want to find them again. Every time he thought about it it hurt, and his anger would rise as he yearned to kill his brother for what he'd done.
He walked a straight path, everything that was in his way found itself telekinetically thrown into the nearest breakable substance, leaving a trail of car alarms and shattered windows behind him. He was lost, lacking direction, a broken man who felt he had nothing left. His whole world had caved in. This deception could be the end of everything. There was no point in pursuing a purpose if those closest to you were going to continually shoot it down.
He stopped in front of a bar, the name Queri flashing above the door in bright neon lights. Normally he would not have stepped foot into a club, in respect for his mother's business, but now he was a desperate man needing to numb the feelings of anger, hatred and jealousy inside of him. He contemplated going inside and made a rash decision to do so as Bianca's image popped back into his mind. He had given her everything she could have asked for, would gladly have given her more, and still she'd turned around and kissed the enemy.
Bringing the blame back upon himself for failing where his brother had so quickly and easily succeeded, he pushed the door open roughly with the palm of his hand and stepped inside.
"Bianca," Chris laughed, kissing her again, trying to wedge his hands between them and push her away. "What I meant by 'I want to show you something' is something you haven't seen."
"But I like what I have." She pouted. Seeing him smile at the comment, she returned it. "So what is it?"
"Well you know how Wyatt's all 'the future of evil is above ground'?" Chris began. Seeing Bianca's humourless expression he quickly continued: "I thought it would be best to find us somewhere below ground where he can't sense us."
"Which is?" Bianca prompted.
"Here," Chris said, taking a step back and sweeping his arms out. Bianca looked around at the bare walls, giving Chris an inquiring look as she turned back. "Allow me to give you the tour. We're in the Underworld, just underneath and a little to the right of the bay. If you follow me through here…"
Bianca watched him pass and slowly followed him into the next room. Chris was, by far, no real estate expert, but his retail skills highlighted his friendly and somewhat cunning nature. The secondary room was a lot brighter than the first. There appeared to be a natural rock pool formation in the ground, light reflecting off its clean watery surface illuminated by the dozen or so candles laid about it. Smiling at the beauty of something so simple, she followed him into the next room.
"So we have the pool for all your relaxation and cleansing needs," Chris said. "Natural water."
"So you're not just planning on revisiting the first time we met?" she joked.
He rolled his eyes back to her as he stopped. "Doubt it'd be deep enough, and why were you thinking that?"
"'Cause I know how mischievous you are," she teased.
"Thanks," he said, trying to sound offended but unable to hide the smile on his face. "Well maybe you'd feel more comfortable in here."
Brushing his back lightly with her hand, she stepped around him further into the last room on offer. Before her was a large bed covered in rose petals. The bedspread was an elegant golden cover with lace pillows and satin sheets. Taking his hand she backed up towards it, pulling his hand down to her hip and lifting the other to his face, kissing him as she lowered herself back onto it.
"Are you trying to seduce me, Mr Halliwell?" she asked.
"I was trying to show you around," Chris answered. "But if you're planning on sampling before agreeing to this then I'm not going to stop you."
Kissing him again as he crawled onto the bed with her, she kept herself propped up on her elbows as she looked around at the petals that adorned the soft cover underneath her.
"I hope you didn't pull apart our garden for this," she said.
"Hmm, maybe one or two sacrificed themselves for a good cause, but I swear I didn't destroy the place."
"Good, cause you know it means a lot to me," she said.
Smiling, Chris nodded, watching as she looked towards her hand, playfully passing it through the mixture on the bed. Carefully she selected one, turning it over in her fingers, putting it back down as she picked up the next petal and lifted it to his face, meticulously brushing it down the bridge of his nose. Getting little reaction from him, she did it again. This time Chris screwed up his nose, twitching it as he raised his hand to rub the itch away.
"You're a tease," he said. She smiled.
"I was just wondering… whether you dropped any thorns amongst those petals."
"No thorns. And no more talk of blood and pain," Chris chastised. Bianca turned her head guiltily. "No dragons, no demons, no Wyatt, just me and you."
Her gaze shifting back to him, he lifted her chin towards him, gently placing his lips to hers. Crawling the rest of the way up to her, Bianca looked at him longingly as he drew back. Lifting her hand up to the back of his head, she pulled him back down towards her.
"I'd like to have more of that," she whispered, pressing her lips hungrily to his again.
"We should get back," Bianca said. "I don't want things to get bad, and they will if I'm gone too long."
Chris looked at her sadly. "I wish you didn't have to keep running back to do that."
"I'm not," she said, smiling reassuringly. Crawling over to him, she traced a finger along his face. "You showed me I didn't have to. If I can keep up the illusion, he's not going to do any more damage. Wouldn't you rather I pretend instead of one of his minions actually killing?"
"I know – it's the better alternative."
"Then you don't mind me going?" she asked sweetly. He knew she wouldn't appreciate his refusal on the issue.
"As long as I can spend every last second with you."
Placing her hand on his leg, she shimmered them back to the garden inside the park, sliding her arms around him and kissing him one last time before they would have to part. Drawing back, she noticed at first the light look a little bleaker. Stepping back, she curiously looked around Chris and saw the devastation that lay before her, sunset barely making a dint in the area which formed the impression of being awash in grey light. Gasping, she raised her hand to cover her mouth, sealing in the shock.
"What?" Chris asked, bemused as he caught sight of her reaction. Turning he saw what she had. In utter disbelief he wandered further into the garden, kicking the stray debris as if he was trying to convince himself what he was seeing was real. "I don't believe this! This is the lowest he could go. How could he?"
"No, Chris," Bianca said quickly, stepping towards him. "You don't know it was him."
"Who else could it be?" Chris snapped, turning hastily towards her. "What do you think happened here, Bianca? You think someone just dropped an atomic bomb in the middle of Golden Gate Park because it sounded like fun? They don't do that, Bianca!"
"But he wouldn't!" she protested. "It's too random."
"He would," Chris insisted.
Bianca surveyed the damage with sad eyes, Chris taking his frustrations out on the decapitated head, kicking it with rough force into the back wall. Despite not being as powerful as Wyatt, the wear and tear his brother had caused on the substance made the cranium break instantly at the impact. The sight finally settling in, Bianca's thoughts turned towards the possible motives Wyatt could have had for such radical behaviour, and there was only one thing that she could think of that would make it so personal.
"Unless… he knows about us," she said softly.
"I told you he'd find out," Chris said pointedly. "He's got demons and sources crawling all over this city. Any one of them could have seen us. I did everything I could…"
"Are you trying to blame me for this? Chris you know I've sacrificed everything for you! Don't stand there trying to tell me I gave something away."
"I was going to say it wasn't going to be enough to combat such a huge number."
"Still…"
"I'm not blaming you, Bianca," Chris said softly, shaking his head as he walked over to her, gently rubbing her arm as she folded them in front of her.
"Good." She looked him over. "Don't blame yourself either. We didn't know this was going to happen."
"Believe me; I'm placing the entire blame on him."
Lowering her eyes, she tried to think of a solution, a way of repairing or getting around this, but her mind remained openly blank. "How are we going to fix this, Chris? If no-one is safe, not even us, we can't stop him. We can't change things."
"We can," Chris said, taking her hands and lowering them, placing them together as he surrounded them with his. "You believe me, don't you?"
"Yes," she said softly.
"And if I have to kill him, so be it."
"No," she said sternly. "He's your brother, Chris. You can't do that. Let me go see how much he knows before we do anything rash."
"Okay," Chris agreed, leaning in and kissing her. "Be careful."
"I will."
"I love you."
Bianca smiled weakly as she looked at him. It was the first time he'd ever said it to her. Maybe he'd felt the urge to reveal his heart now that they saw the danger they'd faced, yet Bianca still couldn't bring herself to say it. She couldn't admit how much she cared because she feared it would all go wrong, and she'd be the one left feeling hurt and alone.
"See you tomorrow," she said and shimmered out.
When she got there she saw Wyatt sat alone, hunched over the bench in the kitchen, his hand twisting as he embedded a screwdriver into the electronic device that lay before him. Wires lay on the left and right of the device, and as Bianca stepped forward she saw it was a dismantled probe, one he was obviously altering.
"What are you doing?" Bianca demanded.
"Altering the scanner signals," he answered casually.
"Why? What's wrong with them?"
"Nothing. But I'd rather they pick up on witches since I can't seem to trust even those in my own company."
"Is that a passing shot at me?" she inquired.
The door to Wyatt's bedroom opened and she looked over towards the sound, a somewhat attractive woman slinking out through the gap with a lone sheet barely covering her naked body. It didn't take a genius to work out what had been going on.
"Are you coming back to join me?" she asked. Looking up she saw Bianca standing beside him and smiled impishly. "Oh, you brought someone else to play. My, my, you are a kinky one."
Bianca stared at her, aghast, feeling sick to the stomach at the very suggestion she would partake in such a thing. She hadn't come for any kind of sexual encounter, she'd come simply to sort things out with Wyatt. In no way was she ever going to let him control her like that. The more she stared at the woman, the angrier she felt towards him for trying to sabotage everything she valued and yet going around doing as he pleased. He didn't speak a word, and his calmness over the whole thing irritated her, his blasé attitude making her hate him even more for thinking he could do whatever he wanted and it wouldn't affect her. Slamming her hand down on the counter, she lowered her head down to his, speaking directly into his ear, her anger in no way deterring him from the little job he was working on.
"I thought you said you didn't keep women as prizes," she seethed.
"I don't," Wyatt answered, waving his hand over his shoulder and causing the woman to orb away somewhere.
"That's not what it looked like."
"Ooh, am I sensing jealousy, Bianca?" Wyatt said patronizingly. "Why don't you cry about it?"
"I'm not going to cry over some two dollar whore. If you want to go around pleasuring yourself like you're the only man on earth, then by all means, but leave me out of it. You have no right to invade my personal life like that."
"Like what, Bianca? Would you care to confess something to me?" he asked, for the first time looking up towards her. Carefully she took a step back, wondering if she'd unintentionally exposed them. Wyatt stood, stepping towards her. He didn't wait for her to answer, he already knew. "You see when it involves my employees and my family, I think I do. I think I have every right to know what's going on behind my back."
"It's got nothing to do with this. I'm not doing anything wrong."
"Not doing anything wrong? Ha! You're running around cavorting with my little brother to destroy the very thing we worked so hard to get. Did you forget what we were fighting for, Bianca? Freedom from this oppressive morality. Don't you want that anymore?"
"Of course I do. That's the point. If we can just work together—"
"I'm not tainting this mission simply because you want to fuck my brother."
"You're seriously not going to listen to me, are you?" Bianca argued. "I don't know who you are anymore, Wyatt Halliwell. You used to be full of consideration and decency, not self-centred degeneracy."
"And you used to be obedient."
"You egotistical bastard, don't think you can control me. You don't have that power, and I won't let you! I'm doing something for myself for a change; I don't have to answer to your every whim."
"Don't you? Strange… that's what I thought I employed you for; not to be an ungrateful and Machiavellian exile who thinks it's fun to screw with my head."
"You have no idea," Bianca said, shaking her head.
"Stop denying it, Bianca. You know what you've done. I saw it with my own eyes. There's only one reason you're still standing there now, one reason why I haven't killed you, because you're now close enough to bring Chris over to our side. Do that and I might consider forgiving this treachery."
"He won't do it," she insisted.
"Then lie to him. You obviously have no problem doing that, seeing as you think every man's just a toy on your string."
"That's not true! And I won't betray Chris like that."
"Maybe I should have just left you to suffer at the hands of the Phoenix," Wyatt said coldly, turning back towards the probe and walking back to finish the job. "Don't think you're getting free access to anywhere again."
"I hate you," Bianca said quietly, visibly upset now that she'd seen and heard everything she could take, the mere mention of the Phoenix bringing back every horrid memory and possible scenario of what could have happened if he wasn't there. She couldn't believe he would take all that back, years of her life, his friendship, all dissipating before her because of something she'd done.
"Feeling's mutual," he said, grabbing the screwdriver and slamming the point down into the bench.
Hurriedly she left before he changed his mind and decided she'd be better off dead instead, still furious at what he had done, but now just as upset at the little value he regarded her with.