2027 cont.
Black. The kind of darkness that gives you serenity. The shadow that conceals the pain from view, that staves off the nightmares. The sole thing that doesn't provide joy, but at least gives you peace while you rest. There is comfort in darkness. There is comfort right here. There is something to cling to, like a child that clutches a blanket for security.
Bianca awoke to a clinking sound as something hit the barricades of the balcony outside her window. Dismissing it as nothing and not wanting to be disturbed from her slumber, she kept her eyes closed and snuggled further into Wyatt. She heard a low groan – the scrape of the wooden chair across the sandstone tiles. Instantly she opened her eyes. Lifting her torso, she glanced over her shoulder and saw a shadow flicker past the cream coloured curtain. Quickly she looked back to Wyatt. He was still fast asleep. Untangling her body from his, she pushed herself away. Leaning over the edge of the bed, she clutched the sheet to her chest with one hand as she swept the other across the floor and retrieved the three quarter length handkerchief top she had been wearing, pulling it hurriedly over her head before she climbed out of the bed. She was thankful it was just long enough to look like a very short dress because she didn't have much time to prepare herself otherwise.
Cautiously she slipped towards the window, pressing her back against the wall as she shifted the curtain just enough to see outside. Parts of the balcony still remained hidden from view, and the angle she could see looked to be empty of anything other than plants. She knew she'd have to go out to reveal the threat.
As quietly as possibly she unfastened the lock, and then in a blur of action she pushed the sliding door open and leapt outside, her hand manifesting an athame for defence. A lone black raven squawked at the surprise of her sudden appearance, flapping its wings and taking off from the back of the chair where it had been perched. Bianca pursed her lips, looking around warily. The balcony was empty. Although it was plausible, she was finding it difficult to believe a single bird could have made those noises and cast that lengthy shadow against her window. Dispersing of the athame, she stepped towards the balcony barrier, placing her hands on the metal railing and peering down over the edge. With a glance upwards she looked down again and pushed herself away, crestfallen to have discovered no-one there. She felt something twisted around her fingers. Lifting her hand up to shake it off she stopped when she saw what it was – a long strand of jet black hair.
There was a reason Veronica never tied her hair back. She had the misfortune of being born with the Phoenix birthmark emblazoned on the side of her neck. She was forced to leave her hair down to conceal her identity, but at the same time it caused her to break the assassin's rule of keeping your hair short or tightly secured. She had to be careful. But on the morning she had been spying on Wyatt and Bianca she was not. She was so eager to confirm her suspicions that all cautiousness had flown out the window when she'd discovered them in bed together, an array of clothes spread out across the floor. She'd left before being discovered lurking on the balcony, her mind instantly brewing with ideas on how to pit the two against one another. She knew if they were busy fighting one another they wouldn't notice what was happening right under their noses, and she wanted nothing more than to see them break up and destroy one another as painfully as possible. It was the perfect way for her to gain power. All she had to do was appeal to their insecurities.
Bianca, she thought, was easy. She had a vague idea of her history with the Phoenix. She'd heard all the gossip and rumours, read all the documented stories, even had the privilege of working with Michael herself. She didn't care for emotional attachments but she knew that Bianca did. Behind that cool, callous façade she was rife with jealousy. She needed to be the centre of everyone's world, and Veronica would bring that to her in a most unpleasant way.
Wyatt, though, was more cautious. He wasn't as headstrong as the Phoenix; he didn't just rush into things without thinking. He did, however, have a tendency to throw caution to the wind when his mind was set on something. It was a flaw in his system – letting his emotions sway him into believing an idea, producing some drastic action as a result of this. She needed to push him to that state without raising suspicion. She needed to wear him down. Words would not be enough to convince him – one way or another she would have to come up with proof that incriminated his so-called-lover. That opportunity would come in time, like all of them.
Veronica threw her hand forward, the heel clearly coming in contact with the demon's jaw. Dropping to the ground she straightened her leg and spun around, sweeping him off his feet. Lifting her hand with a flourish she conjured and twirled the dagger before bringing it down into his body.
"Jax tells me there's some dissension amongst the camps," she said, straightening and looking back to Wyatt. He manifested another orb ball, casting it towards the assailants. "He thinks someone is working against you."
"You waited until we were in the middle of a battle to tell me this?" Wyatt asked incredulously.
"Well I didn't know if you'd listen to me considering you value everyone else's opinion above mine. I didn't think you'd believe any of us without some kind of proof."
"Do you have any?" Wyatt inquired.
"I'd be lying if I told you I did. I don't want to be like everyone else that harbours secrets from you. I promise you that I will try my best to uncover whatever's causing this unsettlement within the group."
"I don't expect you to vouch your loyalty to me. I'm not some kind of tyrant."
"I know. Even though… ow! Fuck!"
Veronica looked down at her arm. The skin began to bubble, absorbing the virulent liquid into her body. She knew the reaction to this kind of chemical was not as dire as it looked, but there was no harm in making Wyatt think otherwise. It was an opportunity. She knew that Wyatt was only aware of the physical characteristics of these demons; he didn't know anything about the chemical that sprayed from their mouths.
"We have to retreat," she insisted.
"What? Why?" Wyatt questioned.
"They're too dangerous. We're not prepared. If we stay they're going to slaughter the whole team," she said. Wyatt looked at her quizzically. She presented her arm to him. "Do you want me to fucking die? We have to go now!"
Calling for his men to draw back, Wyatt orbed back to the study of the house that neighboured the manor. His employees followed suit, all squeezing into the room and staring at Wyatt expectantly. Some of them appeared agitated, infuriated with being interrupted in their plight.
"We regroup in twenty," Wyatt said, dismissing them. He grabbed Jax just before he was able to step out the door, his hand fastening urgently around his arm. "Get Bianca."
Veronica smiled as she overheard his request. This was working out perfectly. As soon as Wyatt turned back to her she resumed her anguished expression.
"We have to hurry," she said, stripping off her shirt and throwing it on the chair as she rushed into the adjoining bathroom.
"Wait! What…?" Wyatt asked, glancing curiously at the shirt in passing as he followed her. Entering the bathroom he saw she had spun the taps enough for the water to blast from the faucet. "Why did you take your shirt off?"
"Are you kidding me?" she retorted, glaring at him. "That shirt cost me two hundred dollars! I'm not wrecking it because some inconsiderate demon spat on me!"
"Okay, well…" Wyatt stammered. He looked at her arm, watching her cringe and cry out as she vainly splashed water on it. "Can I help you out?"
"Heal me," she said.
"I… can't. There're laws to that."
"It has to be caused by a demon and it was. That means you can."
Wyatt sighed and lifted his hands. "I'll try."
"No," Veronica said, pushing his hands away. "Take off your belt."
"I'm not going to—"
"Listen. This poison races faster into the system than you'd be able to heal me. We used to tip arrows and dunk blades in the stuff before we went after targets. I've seen hundreds of people die like this. Don't let me. Take off your belt and make a tourniquet."
Obligingly he removed the leather from the loops of his pants, winding it around the bridge of her arm and pulling it tightly. Veronica faked relief at the pressure. She heard the door push open wider in the study, the sound of small feet padding across the floor, and from the sliver in the doorway between the bathroom and the study she could make out a feminine form that appeared to be Bianca. Purposely she elevated her voice, taking the belt from Wyatt's hand so he could heal her. She was surprised at the tingling sensation and it was over far quicker than she anticipated.
"Wow your hands are amazing," she gushed.
"Thank you," he replied. "I get a lot of practice."
Sliding past him she unwound the belt, stepping just past the doorway into the study. Bianca was looking at her shirt with the same mysticism Wyatt had earlier.
"Oh, hi Bianca," Veronica said, drawing her attention to her. It didn't take long for Bianca to realise who the shirt belonged to as Veronica stood before her half undressed. The dark-haired Phoenix turned back towards the bathroom door, dangling the belt in the air before throwing it in to Wyatt. "Here you go, stud. Don't forget to put this back on."
Bianca's eyes darkened with jealousy and hatred as she watched her. Flamboyantly Veronica flipped her long hair over her shoulder as she strode back to her shirt.
"He really knows what he's doing, doesn't he?" she said suggestively in passing, pulling her shirt back on.
Bianca eyed her enviously. What she had heard, what she was seeing, it was all adding up to one conclusion in her mind, one she did not want to come to. But she knew everyone else had done it to her – why not Wyatt?
"Oh, good, you're here," Wyatt said, emerging from the bathroom and fastening the buckle on his belt.
Bianca instantly grew angry at the sight of him. She wasn't going to play his games anymore.
"We'll attempt more later," Veronica said to him.
She could barely contain the satisfied grin on her face as she left. Bianca had clearly misconstrued everything she'd said.
"You're a welcome sight to see coming back from hardship," Wyatt said, waiting for the door to close before he walked over to her and put his arms around her waist. He leant down to kiss her and she turned her head away. "What's wrong?"
"Why did you ask me up here?"
"Can't a guy spend a little quality time with his girlfriend?" he asked innocently. She glared at him. Again he leant forward and she moved away. Defeated, he let go of her. "Okay, straight down to business then. We need to assemble a larger team to battle the Scabbar demons. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to head one?"
"Not if it's an offer to improve my state of mind."
Wyatt narrowed his eyes. "It wasn't my suggestion, but I'd feel more confident knowing there's someone out there who's capable of achieving a good result with their inherited skills."
"Wouldn't the Phoenix be opposed to me ordering them around?"
"We're reconvening shortly. Let's find out."
Bianca followed Wyatt into the room, surveying all those already there. Veronica stood by the doorway. Catching sight of her, Wyatt thought to inquire about her health.
"How's your arm?" he asked.
"Fine. You didn't hurt me. There isn't even a single mark to show it happened," Veronica replied.
Bianca couldn't look at either of them, her mind already reeling with images of what could have happened behind that door. Instead she moved to stand as far across the room from Wyatt as she could get. Although he was aware it was a wise decision to conceal their relationship, he was still hurt by her sudden avoidance of him. He looked forlornly after her before moving to a position where he could best address the crowd.
"We're going to extend our defence," he informed them. "All of you will be returning alongside us. I want you to listen to and obey the orders given to you. It is the only way to improve our chances. I'm sure I don't have to remind you where reckless attitudes and individual actions will lead you."
Bianca's eyes scanned the crowd. The composed and austere image she tried to retain was giving way to fear. She was worried what their reaction would be once Wyatt told them they had to listen to her – the "traitor" as most of them seemed to think. She grew even more anxious when she saw Veronica draw close to Wyatt, her lips almost brushing his ear.
"Bianca's quite agitated," Veronica whispered to Wyatt, her gaze fixated on the fellow Phoenix across the room. "Perhaps she's the one behind the underlying threat. It wouldn't be out of character for her, judging by her history. And constant withdrawal is often a sign of guilt."
Wyatt looked to Veronica as she settled back onto her heels. His gaze drifted over to Bianca. He could visibly see that she wasn't being herself. In fact she hardly looked confidant at all. And she had drawn away from him earlier in the study. She wouldn't even meet his eyes anymore. It led him to conclude that there was a great possibility Veronica could be right, but he didn't want to believe it without seeing some visible proof with his own eyes. He didn't want to believe that after all this Bianca would turn around and betray him once again.
He cleared his throat. "As I was saying, I want you to divide into several teams. Of course those under the command of Veronica, Shailo, Marcus and Nervand will continue as they were. The remainder are to follow either my orders or those handed out by Bianca who has warranted her skills in these kinds of situations from previous experiences. I expect no rebellion. Do not oppose my decisions. If you feel the need to die then do it justly."
Bianca saw many an eye turn to look sceptically at her, but not a single one questioned Wyatt's judgement. As Wyatt began to organise the teams Veronica sauntered through the crowd towards her; Jax, Stanford and her other men in tow.
"Don't get too overexcited at the prospect of finally getting out into the field," she said scathingly. "Truly he thinks you're a hack, and far too old for this kind of thing. That's why he never lets you go anywhere. He's just doing this right now to keep you happy, because that way he knows you won't dispute him and he'll then get everything he wants without any kind of conflict."
The comment was a devastating blow to her ego. She became indecisive and edgy, and her lack of confidence reflected in her poor performance against the Scabbar demons. She, herself, didn't get hurt, but the number of fatalities in her team were far higher than the rest.
"Bianca, what is wrong with you?" Wyatt asked irritably, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from the group upon their return.
"Why don't you tell me?" she retorted, her hair flying in her face as she spun back to him. "Seeing as you think I'm not good enough."
"If you're referencing to before, I didn't think of you because it didn't cross my mind. I only agreed to the suggestion because I thought you could handle it."
"Because I survived every other time, right?" Bianca questioned, her meaning entirely different to his. "What makes you think I wouldn't have killed you?"
"Because it's too hard for you to destroy someone like me."
"You arrogant bastard."
"You weren't angry enough to even summon that kind of personal energy. In fact that was probably the poorest performance I've seen from you. I'd almost think you were that flawed intentionally."
She glared at him but felt as if she were slowly crumbling inside. She couldn't understand why he was being so harsh with her, why he was belittling her like that. And he wasn't denying any of it either, which hurt her all the more. She thought he'd had some respect for her. She'd even been convinced that he did love her. But surely someone who acted this way, this childishly, cared only about themselves. She felt as if she were about to break down, but if that happened she didn't want to give him the pleasure of seeing it. Quickly she turned without a word and raced away.
Veronica paused as she heard the shouting between them. She waited for Bianca to leave before approaching Wyatt who was doing little more than staring after her. He was efficiently distracted enough not to notice what she had in mind.
"Wyatt, your bracelet," she said. He blinked a few times, glancing blankly down to his arm. She grabbed his hand, lifting it. "You've got Scabbar acid on it. It's going to rust if you leave it. I know how to fix it, but you'll have to give it to me. Surely you don't want to lose something so important to you. I know you wear it constantly."
"Um…" he said distractedly. Almost zombie-like he removed it from his wrist, letting it drop into her hand.
"It'll take a few hours. I'll return it tomorrow."
"You're, ah, sure it's going to be okay?" he asked, seemingly coming out of his daze.
"It'll look as good as new. I promise. There are many family secrets that lie within the Phoenix coven. Not all of them relate to killing."
"Special spells?"
"Special books," Veronica said, arching an eyebrow. "Like the one Bianca's family keeps. Like the ones in the library containing insights into the history of every witch known to man. If you're ever feeling nosey you could always go do some research yourself. I suppose you never thought to check all the skeletons in Bianca's closet."
Turning, she headed away from Wyatt, knowing she'd planted little seeds of doubt in his mind. She knew she had stirred his curiosity from the pensive state she'd left him in. She was certain he knew nothing of Bianca's parents. And now she had something else to taunt Bianca with. Casually she swung the bracelet around in her hands, whistling as she walked up the stairs. Before she reached the top she shimmered out.