FALSE MEMORIES
My first posted story here. Also my first Charmed Fanfic, although I have written fanfiction for other shows.
Disclaimer: The characters in Charmed do not belong to me. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Summary: Loved the Piper/Leo/Chris family dynamic in Season 6 so that's when this story is based. Set after Chris-Crossed and Prince Charming. Nobody knows who Chris is yet, but they're about to find out, courtesy of an unexpected visitor from the future…
Notes: Hi! Sorry that this is a week later than promised in my review replies. Real life interference as usual! Work has been a total nightmare and I simply haven't had the time to finish off and post this chapter until now.
The first two scenes in this part are basically continuations of the last two in the previous chapter btw. So, if you have time, it might be worth going back to reread them. If you don't, then I've put in a recap of the Chris/Stacey scene at the start of this chapter to set things into context.
When we last left them, our protagonists were poised as follows: Chris had gone to visit Stacey to see if he could find out more about the demons that had attacked him with the cursed athame, and had ended up confessing to her all about his past and the demon attack. Meanwhile, Piper and the two Leos had gone to deliver Future Wyatt's breakfast to him up in the Manor attic…
OOOOOO
Last time…
Chris sighed. "I think that maybe it's a curse of some kind."
"A fatal one?" Stacey asked, a sliver of fear curling in her belly.
"Well, there wouldn't be much point otherwise, would there?" Chris responded, an edge of sarcasm to his tone.
"So if the spell stops you from telling anybody, your family don't know about this either, do they?"
"No, they don't, and you can't tell them, Stacey."
"Of course I have to tell them! Jesus Chris, look at you, you look like death warmed up and then some."
"NO!" Chris's tone was harsh. "You can't tell them. You don't understand."
"So explain it to me then!" Stacey shot back.
"If they know, they won't let me go up against Alcathan. They'll try to find a way to save me first."
"And this is a bad thing?" Stacey was aghast at his apparent lack of concern for his own well-being.
"If it means I miss my chance at destroying Alcathan, then yes, it is. One thing I've learned over the years, Stacey – timing is everything where prophecies are concerned. Delay their fulfilment and you're toast with a capital 'T'. I told you what it's like in my future. Do you want Sarah to live in a world like that?"
"Of course not. But…"
"But nothing! This is what I came here to do. Nothing matters more than that."
"Not even your own life?" Stacey demanded in horror. She could already see the answer shining in his emerald-green eyes and it shocked her to the core.
"Nothing," he repeated, confirming her suspicions with the kind of steely conviction that sent a shiver of dread trickling down her spine. "Absolutely nothing…"
OOOOOO
Chapter 32
Stacey lifted her hands to cover her mouth, her eyes full of unshed tears. "I can't," she said shakily. "What you're asking… it would be like signing your death warrant, Chris, and I just can't do that."
"Sorry to disabuse you, Stacey," Chris replied, his tone hard. "But I'm not exactly asking."
"You can't stop me from telling them!"
Chris laughed, a cold, wintry sound. "No?" he said. "With my own powers I could stop you, believe me. But with Wyatt's…" He left the statement hanging ominously between them.
"You wouldn't!" she accused, shocked by his hard-nosed attitude.
"I've done worse," he told her and something in his tone made her believe him.
"But you hate yourself for it," she countered shrewdly. The tormented expression shadowing his green eyes clued her in to this salient fact.
Chris shrugged. "Maybe, but it's what I had to do. Sometimes life forces you into making hard choices."
"Only the strong survive, huh?"
"If you want to put it that way."
Stacey regarded him steadily, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. He meant what he said, she realised. He would take action if she went against his wishes and tried to divulge his secret to his family. There was only one thing for it then…
"What can I do to help?" she asked, albeit with a certain amount of reluctance.
"You won't say anything?" Chris demanded, his eyes intent on hers.
Stacey boldly met his gaze. "I think you're crazy not to tell them," she said, "But no, I won't say anything, not if you don't want me to."
'At least not yet,' she added privately to herself. She would not have his death on her conscience, no matter how much of a martyr he was determined to be.
Chris let out a relieved breath and his brittle attitude softened somewhat. "I need you to tell me everything you can remember about the demons that attacked you," he said, "It doesn't matter how small or insignificant it might seem; anything could help to track them down."
Stacey nodded and got to her feet. "That needs cleaning up first," she said, waving her hand at the infected wound on his stomach.
"It's all right…," Chris started to say, but she abruptly cut him off.
"No way, buddy," she told him sternly. "You're pushing your luck threatening me as it is. If you're going to make me responsible for this, then you can at least allow me to play nursemaid."
Not giving him a chance to object, she turned towards the kitchen in search of her first-aid kit. Chris settled back against the sofa cushions with a weary sigh. He was running on pure adrenaline he knew, but it was a potent motivator. Despite the physical weakness pervading his body, he still felt perfectly in control. His determination to succeed was as strong as ever. It was almost as if Wyatt's power was holding him together somehow, papering over the cracks that the infiltrating curse was single-mindedly trying to open up inside of him.
A couple of minutes later, Stacey returned, carrying a bowl of warm water that smelled strongly of antiseptic in one hand, and a red and white plastic box in the other. She set both items down on the coffee table and knelt down on the floor at his feet.
"This is going to hurt like hell, isn't it?" Chris said resignedly, as she took a sterile cloth out of the first-aid box and dipped it gingerly into the bowl of liquid.
Stacey's answer was short and to the point. "Probably," she said, indicating that he should lift up his t-shirt.
Chris did as instructed and then sucked in a sharp breath as she began to dab at the oozing wound with the damp cloth. She was being non too gentle about it and he could sense the underlying tension in her. He had put her in a difficult position, he knew. He didn't like doing it, but it was necessary. Nothing could be allowed to get in the way of his goal. He'd come way too far to be thwarted when he was so close to the finish line, deadly curse or not.
Still, she was his friend and he wasn't so hard-hearted that he didn't feel guilty about what he'd been forced to do. "Look, I'm sorry okay?" he apologised softly, "It's just that nothing is more important to me than this. If you lived in my world, you'd understand."
Stacey didn't trust herself to answer that, so she concentrated on what she was doing and finished off bathing his injury with the antiseptic solution. Covering the wound with a sterile bandage, she fixed it in place with a patchwork of steri-strips, and then sat back on her heels when the job was completed to her satisfaction.
"There," she said as Chris tugged his t-shirt down and sat up a little straighter.
"Thanks," he muttered, and then gazed at her expectantly. "So – the demons?" he prompted.
Stacey felt a small smile tug at the corners of her lips despite her inner disquiet. "You're not easily distracted, are you?" she remarked teasingly. "Tell me - do you ever think about anything other than demon-hunting?"
"Are you suggesting that I've got a one track mind?" Chris asked playfully; glad that the tension between them had dissipated somewhat.
Stacey laughed. "Absolutely," she joked, "Just not in the same sense as most other guys I know."
Chris grinned. "Oh, I play that track too," he admitted candidly, "But what with Bianca and everything…." He trailed off and sighed sadly, his gaze sliding away from hers. "Well, you know…"
Stacey reached out and squeezed his hand sympathetically. "Yeah, I know," she said, before sensitively changing the subject. "So - these demons? I could draw you a picture of the ringleader if that'd help," she offered.
"Don't worry, I was an Art major in college," she laughed off the sceptical look that Chris cast in her direction.
Rising to her feet, she went to retrieve her sketchbook and a pack of coloured pencils from a drawer, and then sat down at the small table near the window. While she worked on the drawing, Chris wandered idly about the lounge, absorbing the ambiance of her home.
"Did you do these?" he asked, waving his hand at the eclectic collection of artworks that adorned the magnolia-painted walls.
Stacey briefly looked up from her sketchpad. "Some," she said, "Not all though."
"This one?" he asked, indicating a canvas that had particularly caught his eye.
It was a painting of the Golden Gate Bridge at sunrise, done in an Impressionist style, the outline of the magnificent structure blurred against the dawn sky, the colours a vibrant mix of reds, golds and various shades of grey and blue.
Stacey nodded. "That's my masterpiece - I was totally in the zone when I painted that."
"It's beautiful," Chris said. "I'm used to seeing it from a different perspective, but it captures the essence of the place perfectly."
"What do you mean 'a different perspective'?" Stacey asked curiously.
"From the top looking across," Chris explained. "I orb up there sometimes when I need some head space."
"Wow! I would love to paint the Bridge from that angle. It'd be something different, out of the ordinary, you know?"
"Maybe when all this is over, I'll be able to take you up there so you can fulfil your wish," Chris said, sitting across the table from her.
Stacey nodded. "I hope so," she said. "So – how's that?"
She turned the pad around to show him the picture that she'd drawn. Chris's eyes widened. The drawing was so life-like; the demon literally seemed to jump out the page at him. He whistled in appreciation.
"I think I'm impressed," he remarked.
Stacey smiled at the compliment. "Thanks for the endorsement," she said, "But is it going to help any?"
Chris nodded. "Should do – I just need to recheck what it says about them in the Book…" He faltered then, a look of consternation crossing his face.
"What is it?" Stacey asked.
"Well, the Book is in the Attic… along with Wyatt…"
"Who you'd rather avoid right now," Stacey correctly deduced.
Chris nodded. "Well that -plus he can't keep his big mouth shut to save his life. I can guarantee that he'll make Mom and Dad start asking awkward questions."
"And that's a bad thing?" Stacey asked lightly, her tone full of underlying censure.
Chris looked at her in protest. "Didn't we just have this discussion?" he said rather plaintively.
"Discussion? Oh, is that what that was? Funny, I thought it was more you dictating to me how it was going to be, and me having no choice in the matter."
Chris shook his head in exasperation. "You're far too like your niece for your own good, you know that?" he complained.
"Or she's too like me," Stacey pointed out, pedantically correcting his back-to-front opinion, "And what's that supposed to mean anyway?"
"Sarah is the most bluntly honest person I know," Chris explained.
"She isn't afraid to tell you when you're acting like a total idiot, you mean?"
Chris's lips curled up into a self-deprecating smile at the acerbic observation. "No, she isn't."
"Well, good for her," Stacey said with a nod of approval.
"She would understand why I have to do this though," Chris hastened to add. "She knows how important saving Wyatt is to the Future."
Stacey regarded him thoughtfully. "Maybe she does," she said, "But I think if she were here, she would only go along with things up to a point. She wouldn't let you sacrifice yourself unnecessarily, not if she's a true friend."
Chris sighed, knowing that this was probably true. "I just… I need to keep the momentum going, you know? I'm afraid that if I slow down, the opportunity is going to slip through my fingers. And what if this is the only chance I get to make it right and I don't take it? Everything I've fought so hard to achieve will be for nothing. My brother will still be lost, my fiancée dead, and the future will still be exactly the same – worse than a living hell."
Stacey had to admit that Chris could be very persuasive when he wanted to be. Still, she was more than a match for him in the stubbornness stakes. If she went against him now, he would prevent her from doing so, but she didn't think he'd be quite so resolute when the encroaching curse started to take a real hold of him…
"Look, I've already agreed that I won't say anything for now," she told him in a resigned tone, "But let's get one thing straight, Chris - I won't stand by and let you die. That's not who I am and never will be."
Chris had to admire her fortitude. She didn't give up easily this girl, much like her niece in fact. It was something that he'd always liked about Sarah, her stubborn belief that anything was possible if you set your mind to it. She had been the one who had persuaded him that he could do this. That he could come back to the past, face his long-lost family and not completely fall apart at the seams.
Bianca hadn't really understood his apprehension, even though she knew what had happened when his mother had died. She'd not been there in person so she didn't understand how close to the edge he'd been. Sarah did though and was therefore fully aware of how emotionally difficult he would find it.
"You just have to keep in mind what you're fighting for, Chris," she'd said to him a few days before he had left for the past. "Remember the great family that you used to have, that you could have again. Think about the kind of life that you and Bianca could share if things were different…"
"And then of course, there's me," she added with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "And the difference it would make to my life. I mean that's got to be the biggest motivator of all, hasn't it?"
Chris had laughed at that, something that was remarkably rare in those dark days. "It's my greatest inspiration," he'd quipped back with a smile.
He hadn't been entirely joking. He was doing this for Sarah as much as anyone else. She was his best friend, had stuck by him through thick and thin, and he wanted to make her life better too. It wasn't just about himself, Bianca and his family. It was about so much more that that. That's why he was absolutely determined not to fail, why he was prepared to take risks that others might look upon as reckless.
He returned his gaze to Stacey, who was watching him expectantly, curious as to the thoughts running through his head. He forced himself to smile at her and she smiled tentatively back.
"Okay, you've got yourself a deal," he said. "You can turn me in if I start to lose my faculties. But not before, okay?"
"Okay," Stacey agreed, glad that they'd reached a satisfactory compromise. Earlier, he'd bulldozered her into a situation that she wasn't happy with, but she could live with this. At least there was a get-out clause now.
"So, is there some other book that we could look up the demons in?" she asked, returning to their previous topic of conversation.
Chris nodded. "Several," he said, "But the Book of Shadows is always the best place to start. I could summon it to me, I suppose, but Mom and the Aunts would probably have a major freak out if it just disappeared like that."
Stacey rolled her eyes. "So call them and tell them that you're borrowing it for a while then," she said.
"Well, I would …" Chris began, "If I knew the number," he finished rather sheepishly.
"What?" Stacey was incredulous. "How can you not know? You live there, don't you?"
"Well yes, but a whitelighter doesn't have any real need for a phone. I can orb to whomever I want to speak to, you see. And, if they need me in return, they can just holler for me and I can be there in an instant."
"I don't think I've ever known anyone who didn't know their own phone number before," Stacey remarked with a laugh. "Please tell me you at least know the address."
Chris smiled. "Yes that I do know."
"Good, then write it down for me," Stacey instructed, tearing off a piece of paper from her sketchbook and handing it to him. "We can find out the number from directory enquiries."
A few minutes later, she'd obtained what they needed, but Chris took the phone out of her hand before she could punch in the number on the handset.
"Not yet," he said. "I've got to work out how to summon the Book first. I know my family. I need to present them with a fait accompli if I want to avoid having to play twenty questions."
He sat down at the table again and began to scribble on a fresh sheet of paper, his brow furrowed in concentration. Stacey sat down alongside him, watching as he composed a suitable summoning spell.
"I thought the Book of Shadows was immune to this sort of thing," she said. "Doesn't it protect itself from being magically stolen in this way?"
Chris nodded. "Yes, but I'm not stealing it. I'm a Halliwell. It effectively belongs to me."
"Oh. Right. I guess I didn't think of that."
"Obviously," Chris remarked with a sidelong grin. "Okay, this should do the trick," he said, setting the pencil and paper aside. Holding out his hands, palms facing upwards, he began to recite the incantation he'd written.
"In this day and in this hour,
I call upon the ancient power.
I, a descendant of the Power of Three,
Hereby summon the Book of Shadows to me."
Nothing happened for a tantalisingly long moment, and then the ancient Book emerged out of a swirl of white stars into Chris's outstretched hands. Clearly pleased with his accomplishment, the dark-haired witch-whitelighter lowered the heavy tome to the table, and then picked up the phone to call home…
OOOOOO
Meanwhile, back at the Manor…
"You'd think he'd be more focused on the job, wouldn't you?" Wyatt remarked as he lifted another forkful of eggs to his mouth. "Instead he's out charming the first pretty girl to cross his path."
Future Leo ignored his son's attempt to stir the situation. Chris had obviously sought out Stacey's company for a reason, whether the motivation was magical or emotional was frankly beside the point. What concerned him more was that his son had felt the need to go to someone outside the family for advice. What was it that he couldn't confide in them? Leo knew the weight of expectation was something that must lie heavy on Chris's shoulders, but he had seemed to be handling it okay despite that.
He looked again at the note that their son had left. It didn't say much of anything and that was the worry. He got the distinct impression that Chris was being deliberately evasive, and of course, that made him immediately want to know why.
Reading the expression on his father's – and to a lesser extent his past parents' faces, Wyatt decided to push his advantage. If he focused their attention on Chris, it would give him some time to come up with a suitable escape plan. Question was, were his parents just being their normal, annoyingly overly protective selves? Or was Chris actually hiding something from them? He hadn't had enough contact with his brother to deduce that, something that he would have to remedy he decided. In the meantime though -
"Of course maybe it's more than that. Maybe there's something he's not telling you," he suggested slyly.
"What do you mean?" Piper asked sharply, immediately taking the bait, much to Wyatt's gleeful delight.
"He doesn't mean anything," Future Leo quickly interrupted. "Just ignore him, Piper."
"So why are you worried then?" Wyatt taunted. "And don't say you're not, I can see it in your face. We all know the only reason Chris wouldn't tell you where he was going is if he didn't want you to know. Doesn't bode well, does it?"
Future Leo didn't know how to respond that. Despite knowing that Wyatt was only trying to goad them, the plain fact of the matter was that he was right. Something was going on with Chris, and he couldn't believe it had taken him this long to see it. Maybe because he was unconsciously trying to keep his distance, knowing how hard it would be to say goodbye again. That was no excuse though. He should have been more alert to the signs, they all should have.
The musical sound of magic at work interrupted his guilty thoughts then, and Piper let out a gasp of horror in response. Spinning around, he was just in time to see the Book of Shadows vanish from its wooden perch.
"Oops!" Wyatt commented mockingly, picking up the unmistakable echo of his brother's magic in the air but choosing not to mention it. "Now that's rather inconvenient, isn't it?"
"PHOEBE! PAIGE!" Piper yelled loudly for her sisters, as the trilling sound of the phone reverberated upwards from downstairs.
"What is it?" Paige demanded, emerging out of a cloud of blue orb lights a few moments later.
"The Book," Piper said, pointing at the empty lectern.
Paige's eyes widened. "How?" she asked.
"Well, I don't know," Piper responded irritably. "One minute it was there and the next 'poof'"
"Do you think that Alcathan is behind this?" Paige asked.
"Why should he be?" Piper replied. "He didn't go after it before, did he?"
She looked over at the future version of her husband for confirmation and Future Leo shook his head.
"Not that I remember, no."
"But what if…?" Paige began, but Present Leo quickly cut her off.
"I think we should discuss this some place else, don't you?" he said, throwing a warning look at Wyatt who was observing the exchange with interest.
"Oh, don't mind me;" he said airily, "You go right ahead. Just pretend I'm not here."
The sound of clomping footsteps could be heard coming up the attic stairs then, and a couple of moments later, Phoebe practically fell into the room.
"Okay guys, panic over," she burst out breathlessly. "That was Chris on the phone. He's the one who summoned the Book."
"Why didn't he just orb in to look at it?" Paige asked.
Phoebe flickered a telling glance at Wyatt. "Umm, he said something about wanting to read in peace."
"Did he tell you what he wanted it for?" Future Leo asked.
His sister-in-law shook her head. "No."
"Well, didn't you ask him?" Piper demanded.
"He didn't exactly give me much of a chance to," Phoebe protested defensively. "He hung up the first opportunity he got."
Piper looked worriedly between the two versions of her husband. "Why do I not like the sound of that?" she said.
"Because you're trusting your instincts," Future Leo replied. "And they're telling you that something doesn't quite add up."
"Okay, so one of you needs to go find him and bring him home," Piper decided.
Present Leo shook his head. "We can't do that, Piper."
"Why not?"
"Because he's not a child and we agreed that we wouldn't treat him like one."
"And he agreed that he wouldn't go off without letting us know where he was," Piper quickly retorted.
"And that's something we'll need to discuss when he returns home," her husband replied, "But for now, we wait."
Piper looked at Future Leo. "You don't agree with that, do you?"
The Elder hesitated for a moment, before he reluctantly had to admit that his past self was right. Chris wasn't a child anymore. He was twenty-two years old and his decisions were his own. Some straight talking was needed, but dragging him back home like an errant teenager was not the way to go about it. It would only make Chris more defensive. Leo knew how stubborn his son could be. Back him into a corner and he came out fighting.
"He can take care of himself, Piper," he soothingly told his agitated wife. "I do think there's something that he's not telling us, but I don't think he'd walk into a situation he can't handle without back-up. If he's gone out demon hunting, it's probably just to blow off some steam. He's in no immediate danger, so let's wait until he gets home, shall we?"
While his parents debated the best way to deal with his elusive brother, Wyatt absently reached out with his thoughts and was surprised to find Chris's mind open to him again.
'My, my, you have put the cat among the pigeons, haven't you little brother?' he remarked aggravatingly, projecting his comment across the city towards his unsuspecting sibling.
'Stay out of my head, Wyatt,' was Chris's quick-fire response.
'Why? When it's so much fun talking to you. Tell me - are you really that scared to face me? Or is that just a convenient excuse for the folks?'
'Well, wouldn't you like to know?'
The rather telling pause before this glib reply sparked Wyatt's curiosity, and he probed a bit further into his brother's mind, picking up the vague sense that something was amiss.
'What is wrong with you?' he threw out telepathically before he could stop himself.
'Goodbye Wyatt'
With that firm statement, Chris wrenched his mind free and closed all channels of communication between them. Swearing inwardly, Wyatt tried to re-establish the telepathic link, but found it blocked. His brother was deliberately shutting him out, which only meant one thing. He'd gotten too close. There was something Chris didn't want him – or anyone else for that matter – to know. Well, well, well – now wasn't that interesting?
"What did he say?"
Wyatt looked up from his internal musings to find his father's eyes upon him. Future Leo had spotted the blank look on his son's face and had quickly guessed what it meant.
"Well, I'd repeat it," Wyatt said offhandedly. "But then Mom'd probably have to ground him for the next ten years or more. Shocking language - and when you brought us up so well too."
Piper stared at her son, a finger of distaste curling in her stomach, then something inside of her seemed to snap and she turned away with a sob. It was all too much. She had to get out of here.
"Piper! Wait!"
Phoebe and Paige quickly chased after their fleeing sister. She turned to face them as they reached the bottom of the attic staircase, her eyes full of tears. "What did I do wrong?" she demanded shakily. "Why is he so… so hateful?"
"This is not your fault, Piper," Phoebe said, taking her sister's hands in hers.
"I was supposed to protect him, Phoebe. I was supposed to protect both of them."
"We all were," Paige said, "And we did the best we could with the knowledge we had."
"But it wasn't enough!"
"I know, but this time round it will be."
"You're sure of that, are you?"
"As sure as I can be. It's like Leo always says. We have to trust in who we are. We have to trust in who Chris is."
"But Chris is…"
"His mother's son if ever there was one."
The three women turned around to see Present Leo making his way down the attic steps towards them. "He can do this, Piper," he said, slipping a comforting arm around his wife's slender shoulders as he joined them. "And we're going to be with him every step of the way."
"If he lets us," Piper said tearfully, wearily resting her head against his shoulder.
"He doesn't have much of a choice," Phoebe said, giving her sister's fingers an encouraging squeeze. "He can be as secretive and evasive as he likes, but if there's one thing we know how to be, it's obnoxiously overbearing. I mean, we learned from the best, didn't we?"
Piper gave her sister a watery smile. "I guess we could always set Grams on him," she said, her mood brightening a little.
"Or Prue," Leo put in thoughtfully. "Chris has a special connection with her, doesn't he? Maybe it'd do him good to have her around for a while."
"She did say to call on her if we needed anything," Phoebe reminded her sister.
Piper felt a sense of relief run through her. It was the lives and happiness of both her children on the line here, and with her blooming pregnancy to contend with, as well as the need to fulfil her duties as the eldest Charmed One, it was all a bit too much to handle. If Prue were here, she would have one less thing to worry about at least. Her sister wouldn't be able to resist taking charge.
"Okay," she said. "Let's summon her."
Back up in the attic, Future Leo faced down his eldest son. "Are you satisfied now? Did that make you feel good?" he asked acidly.
Wyatt pushed away the slight sense of guilt he felt at his mother's tears and glared defiantly at his father. "You're keeping me prisoner here against my will and I'm supposed to feel guilty?"
Leo sighed. "Whatever else you've become, Wyatt, she's still your mother and she still loves you, even if you don't deserve it."
"Good thing you're not so sentimental then, isn't it?" Wyatt shot back.
"But that's the thing, Wyatt, I am that sentimental. Love is the hardest thing to let go of - as I think you well know."
Wyatt let out a short laugh. "In your dreams, Dad," he said.
Leo looked back at him knowingly. "No son, in yours," he said calmly, and then turned to leave.
Wyatt watched him go, cursing himself for letting the conversation get to him. Why was it that his father knew how to resurrect all the feelings that he was trying so hard to ignore? Seeing his Mom again had been painful, there was no denying that, but that was just history. And, as for Chris, even though their brotherly connection had never been fully broken, he didn't care in slightest. Honestly, he didn't…
OOOOOO
Stacey's apartment…
"Are you okay?" Stacey asked her companion.
They'd been re-reading the entry in the Book of Shadows when Chris had suddenly stiffened, his focus turning inward. A minute or so later, he emerged from his semi-trance looking shaken and agitated.
"I'm fine," he said. "It's just Wyatt…"
"What about him?"
"Umm, we have this kind of psychic connection," Chris explained, "And I forgot to block it off."
"So you were talking to him inside your head just now?"
Chris nodded. "I shouldn't let him get to me so much," he berated himself.
"He's your brother, Chris. And you're only human, you know…"
"Half witch, half whitelighter actually," he corrected.
Stacey punched him lightly on the arm. "You know what I mean."
"Yeah, I know," Chris said, and then returned his attention to the matter at hand. "Okay, I think the best way to draw the demons out is to challenge them to a rematch."
"Huh?" Stacey asked, confused.
"Witch-baiting is a sport to them, remember? So, if I offer myself as their next target…"
"Isn't that kind of dangerous?"
Chris shook his head. "No, not really. I mean it's not without risk, of course, but they're lower level demons so I think I can handle them all right. With Wyatt's powers, it should be a breeze. The risk is negligible, I assure you."
Stacey smiled. Those words coming out of anyone else's mouth would have sounded supremely arrogant, but Chris was so calmly matter-of-a-fact about it all that he avoided that. Sometimes she forgot that she was in the presence of a member of one of the most powerful Wicca families in the world. Chris was just so normal and down-to-earth that she didn't feel intimidated by it. Okay, so he was a little highly strung at times, but that was simply part of who he was, a consequence of the difficult life that he'd had to endure.
"Before that though," Chris went on, oblivious. "We need to make some vanquishing potion."
Stacey frowned. "But I thought you just wanted to find out who was behind the attack?"
"I do, but I need some leverage. I don't think they're going to give up the information willingly, do you?"
"I guess not."
"So umm, the potion…" Chris stopped, suddenly realising that he'd never bothered to found out whether she was a practising witch or not.
Stacey smiled, guessing his thoughts. "My supplies are in the kitchen – come on."
Picking up the Book of Shadows, Chris followed her through into the other room. He felt perfectly well again now. The curse's effects seemed to hit him in rolling waves. Waves that were admittedly growing closer together, but that still allowed him to function more or less normally in between times.
"So, do you have any active powers?" he asked, as Stacey placed a large metal pot on the stove and retrieved the potion ingredients that they needed from her magical supplies cupboard.
Stacey nodded and demonstrated for him. Turning on the gas, she held her hand out over the ring and set it alight without the aid of a match. The flames flared high as the gas ignited and Chris had to jump back to avoid getting his eyebrows singed.
"One problem though," Stacey said, taking her hand away and pouring a jug full of water into the pot. "My aim is seriously bad, so it's only safe to use when I'm sure I'm not going to set fire to anything I shouldn't. Why Mother Nature chose to give me a power like flame-throwing when my spatial awareness is like zero, I'll never know."
"Maybe it'll get better with time," Chris suggested, tossing a handful of mandrake root and various herbs into the pot in front of him.
"Mmm, somehow I don't think so," Stacey said, handing him a jar of Mezzmai powder as she stirred the mixture with a wooden spoon. "I'm the girl, who has hit more cars reversing into parking spaces than anyone else in San Francisco. Not to mention the time when I meant to throw a glass of water over my jerk of an ex-boyfriend and ended up hitting the innocent waitress full in the face instead."
Chris laughed as he added two heaped spoonfuls of the vivid pink powder to the potion mixture, prompting it to hiss, spit and give off a cloud of noxious fumes.
Stacey wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Why do they always have to smell so bad?" she complained. "You'd think someone would invent a sweet-smelling potion every once in a while, wouldn't you?"
"I think vanquishing potions are supposed to be toxic," Chris said. "They wouldn't work otherwise, would they?"
"I suppose not," Stacey agreed, pulling the Book towards her to read the rest of the instructions. "Add a spoonful of pimpernel seeds, boil vigorously, then remove from the heat and add two to three drops of Warren blood." She broke off and frowned. "What's that? I don't think I have any."
"Don't worry, I've got several pints of the stuff running through my veins," Chris told her.
"Melinda Warren, ultimate matriarch of the Charmed Line," he explained off her confused look. "I guess whichever of my ancestors invented this potion had to make do with whatever they had to hand at the time - namely their own blood."
"Eew!" Stacey proclaimed with a shudder.
Smiling at her exaggerated disgust, Chris added the pimpernel seeds to the potion and turned up the flames until the mixture was bubbling furiously. About thirty seconds later, he removed the pot from the stove and shut off the gas. He then took out his penknife and calmly nicked the pad of his thumb with the blade, letting several drops of the resultant blood drip into the cooling liquid. The murky brown mixture immediately turned a deep, royal blue colour, indicating the potion was complete.
"Give it a few moments to cool off and then we're done," he said.
Stacey nodded as unscrewed the caps from several glass vials, and set them on the countertop ready to be filled. "So, where to next?" she asked.
"A demon bar I know."
"Okay – so umm, do they have a dress-code?"
"Yeah – unwashed," Chris joked, "But you're not coming with me so you don't need to worry about that."
"Uh-huh, forget that - I'm not letting you go on your own. What if you have another funny turn?"
"Stacey…"
"You asked for my help, Chris. So you're getting it, whether you want it or not. Like it or lump it, buster."
Chris let out his breath from between his teeth, knowing there was no point in arguing with her. "All right," he said, "But stick close by me, okay? Don't go wandering off on your own. Some pretty unsavoury types frequent that place and you don't want to get caught in the middle."
An hour later and Stacey's initial confidence was rapidly deserting her. The demon bar had been the lowest dive she'd ever had the misfortune to visit. The licentious stares of many of the unwholesome clientele had made her skin crawl. Leaning casually against the counter, Chris had handed her demon portrait to the barman and pretty much offered the two of them up on a platter, inviting their attackers to take another shot at finishing what they'd started.
"So, do you reckon they're gonna show?" she asked Chris, as she gazed nervously around the abandoned warehouse that he'd chosen for the meet. She had two bottles of vanquishing potion clutched tightly in her clenched fists.
Chris nodded. "The demon grapevine's pretty effective, especially where something like this is concerned. It'll be like a red flag to a bull. They're not gonna be able to resist the challenge."
Fifteen minutes on and she discovered he was right. About twelve demons shimmered in on mass, encircling them like bears around a honey pot - big, ferocious Grizzly bears. Stacey instinctively stepped in closer to Chris, who seemed unfazed by their disadvantage, something that she herself, couldn't be quite so nonchalant about.
The demons advanced and her heart began to hammer wildly inside her chest. Chris had told her not to use the vanquishing potion without his say-so, but with the demons rapidly closing in, it was extremely difficult to resist employing her best means of defence.
"Chris…" she hissed tremulously as the demons edged ever closer, their eyes intent on their prey.
"Not yet," Chris warned her in a soft undertone. "Just a bit closer…," he encouraged. "That's it, come on…"
Suddenly there was a brilliant flash of blue light and all twelve demons were blown backwards like rag dolls, knocked off their feet by a shimmering force field that seemed to come from Chris himself. "Handy power of my brothers," he told Stacey with a wolfish grin before springing into action.
"I need those two alive," he said.
He pointed at two of the demons, who she instantly recognised as their attackers from several days before, and then threw two bottles of vanquishing potion at two of the others, hitting his targets with the pinpoint accuracy of a world-class archer.
Stacey followed suit, missing one demon by a considerable margin, but luckily managing to take the second one out. The first charged her down with an infuriated roar and she quickly raised her hands to protect herself. Fire shot like lightening bolts from her fingers, setting the demon's heavy clothing alight and stopping him in his tracks.
Howling with agony and engulfed in white-hot heat, the demon fell forward onto his face, then began to roll over and over in an attempt to smother the raging flames. Retrieving a third bottle of vanquishing potion from her jacket pocket, Stacey quickly finished him off before he could manage it.
While all this was going on, Chris had managed to reduce their enemy's number by another two, but now seemed to be backing away from the remaining six no longer on the offensive. It was then that Stacey realised – they only had eight bottles of potion and they needed ten. Chris had used up all of his firepower; she was the only one with any to spare. Snatching the final bottle of potion from her pocket, she rushed forward and flung it at one of the demons, hitting him squarely between the shoulder blades.
So seven down, five to go…
"Get back!" Chris shouted at her as the demons closed in on him from all sides.
"But…"
"I SAID GET BACK! TAKE COVER!"
Galvanised into action by the peremptory note of command in his voice, Stacey scuttled out the way, hunkering down behind a stack of wooden crates. Her heart was in her throat – five to one, it was impossible… They were getting closer and closer… Would he use the shield again or did he have something else up his sleeve?
It all seemed to happen at once. Almost as if they were on the end of a pulley, two of the demons – the ones they wanted alive – suddenly shot backwards across the room like balls out of a cannon, ending up pinned against the opposite wall. Chris orbed out, re-materialised behind his would-be assassins, and raised his hands with a defiant gesture. A rippling shockwave of energy immediately burst forth from his palms, sweeping up and completely annihilating the three remaining demons in its wake.
Stacey had never seen anything like it. It was magic at its most fundamental, a raw unrestrained power that seemed to have no boundaries. She instinctively knew that this was the pinnacle of Wyatt Halliwell's magical abilities, and she shuddered to imagine what kind of havoc he could wreak when he used his powers for ill gain. No wonder Chris was so obsessive about preventing his brother from being turned.
Chris himself was both relieved and a little shell-shocked. He hadn't even been sure whether he could tap into his brother's vanquishing power, but had decided that it was worth a shot given the increasingly desperate circumstances. The upsurge of magical energy that had flooded his veins at that moment had been like nothing else he'd ever experienced. It had immortalised him, imbued him with power beyond his imagining. It would be easy to be seduced by it he realised, to fall prey to its addictive influence and step over the line into blatant tyranny.
Chris discovered that he was stronger than that however. His soul was his primary guiding light. He had no need for magical dominion. If truth be told, he preferred to remain in the background. Circumstances had pushed him into the forefront. He did what he did because he had to, because there was no one more qualified to take up the mantle and fight to safeguard the future.
Still buoyed by his brother's power, he turned and confidently approached the two demons that he had telekinetically pinioned against the wall a few moments earlier.
"I think it's time we had a little chat," he informed them stridently.
"Who are you?" one of them demanded in a gravely voice.
"Someone you don't want to mess with," Chris said matter-of-factly, "So I'd advise you to cooperate."
"That's more than our lives are worth, witch."
"Is that so? Let's test out that theory, shall we?"
Holding his hand up in front of his face, Chris slowly closed his fingers around a seemingly invisible object. One of the demons immediately began to splutter and choke, clawing at his throat in an attempt to relieve the tightening pressure around his larynx.
Unfortunately, because this was a power that he also possessed, Chris hadn't bothered practising with Wyatt's version of it and he miscalculated somewhat, underestimating the strength of his brother's power versus his own. The demon's neck snapped with a sickening crack, and a fountain of blood erupted from his mouth as he slumped sideways and crumpled to the floor.
Chris was so startled by what he'd inadvertently done that his control slipped a little, and the other demon managed to break free from the magical restraints holding him in place. Before the demon had taken two steps towards freedom however, a semi-circular wall of pure fire sprang up around him and he cringed back against the brickwork again, his eyes wide and fearful.
"Thanks," Chris said over his shoulder to Stacey, regaining his composure and quickly re-establishing his telekinetic hold on their prisoner.
"See, I told you I'd be useful to have along," she said, extinguishing the flame-cage with a casual flick of her fingers.
Chris smiled briefly at her and then turned his attention back to the demon in front of him. "All right, so get talking," he ordered, "Unless you want to end up like your buddy here that is. I want to know who ordered the ambush on me the other day, and don't even think about suggesting it was a random attack."
The demon glared at him in silence, his eyes glittering with open enmity.
Chris made a noise like a buzzer sounding in the back of his throat. "Strike One…," he intoned threateningly.
"It was Kreegor who…"
"Strike Two," Chris interrupted the demon's obvious attempt at avoiding the question. "You were the one with the athame. That makes you the Head Honcho. A task like that wouldn't be entrusted to an underling."
"All right, all right, but I never met him personally..."
"Strike Three…"
"I'm telling you, I don't know who he was!" the demon exclaimed rather shrilly. "It was a business arrangement, okay? He approached me and he kept his face covered the entire time!"
A sudden chill ran down Chris's spine. Demons were notoriously egocentric. They couldn't resist lording it over their subordinates if they got the opportunity. There was only one demon alive who would deliberately conceal his identity during a transaction like this…
Alcathan.
Despite the ominous connotations of his attacker's identity, Chris was immediately transported back to any number of childhood scrapes he'd gotten himself into. By attempting to track his assailant down, not to mention using his brother's powers so blatantly, he'd probably alerted Alcathan to the fact that they were onto him.
'Oh shit!' he thought in silent chagrin. 'Mom is so gonna kill me!'
To be continued…