Disclaimer: I do not own Charmed
Cerberus didn't stop in his long strides as he made his way through the caverns of firestones. Here and there demons would be walking in one direction quick to walk in the other as he passed. Soon he came to a large stone door, nodding to the guards, one who waved his hand over the dark stone which disappeared long enough for Cerberus to step through. The demon found himself in a dark room lit dimly by several waxed candles. Before him was a crouched figure, standing in front of a limestone table, a lone bowl of dark liquid rested in the center. The figure muttered as if they had barely noticed his entrance.
"The…" Cerberus began but with a swift raised hand he was silenced by the figure.
"I've seen it. If my plan is to succeed we must strike now more than ever." The figure spoke. "With a rise of evil, good will soon try to balance. We must take out the higher threats now."
"That is why I have come. The underworld has been in hiding too long. News of a chance to take back the world as caused havoc. Demons are trying to take control, build armies, gain power. With all do respect, how do you plan to gain their trust in you?"
"Because Cerberus, none of those pathetic wannabes have what I have." The figure turned sharply to the demon who flinched involuntarily. "You better remember who you're talking to and mind your tone."
"Yes, my liege." The demon bowed his head.
"But you are right. It is high time I take control of the situation before I have to take down yet another competitor and that's just messy." The figure turned back to the table leaning against it with their hands balled. "Set up a war council. We have to act quickly."
"That's great guys." Wyatt automatically said as he took another photograph letting his camera snap with a flash. Henry however was barely paying attention with his headphones on his head as he scratched the vinyl disks before letting them play again. Wyatt was moving around taking shots of different angles as his two models posed in one of P3's booths, martinis in hand.
Henry unconsciously bobbed his head to the music as he looked at his computer too see that it was still collecting the data.
"So Henry when do you plan on actually moving into a real place?" Wyatt asked.
"I like my apartment." Henry replied bobbing his head still.
"Your apartment is the back office."
"And you still live at home with your mother." Henry smirked as he spoke his reply out loud.
"Touché." Wyatt smiled at his cousin's jab. One of the models moved over to the other whispering in her ear as the other smiled with a lustful glance to the left. "Perfect!"
"You DJing tonight?" He asked.
"Yep. Over time, I'm short a bartender." Henry sighed as he took off his head phones, jumping down from the stage and moving over to the back bringing over a crate that presumably had alcohol of some type inside.
"Well that sucks." Wyatt over expressed his reply taking another picture with his camera. "Hey thanks again for letting me use the club. It would have taken forever to find another place, book it, and then set everything up."
"Yeah well you can make up for it by bartending tonight." Henry said as he lifted a crate of glasses, dishrag in hand.
"Very subtle."
"Hey you owe me." Henry sighed as he placed a few glasses on the wine glass rack. "Without my love you'd be doing this photo shoot in the alley out back."
Wyatt again gave an over dramatic sigh. Turning quickly, he took a picture of Henry while he was cleaning another glass. Henry jumped and nearly dropped glass, catching it before it hit the marble counter. Blushing slightly he ducked his head and continued to clean the glass.
"Don't do that." He mumbled embarrassed.
"Hey I was only kidding." Wyatt half smiled. His cousin was always high-strung. "I'll clock in at eight."
Chris let his hand sit lightly on the knife blade as he cut the grilled chicken breast. He wiped his hands on the white dish rag, throwing it back over his shoulder, scooping the meat into his hand and tossing it onto the salad made up of about three thousand different colored greens, pouring the sweet smelling dressing over it. Sprinkling white snowflakes of cheese he placed the finished dish on the counter before moving back over to the stove. Swishing the frying pan, penne flipped in the air as a small flame licked the oxygen. Chris placed the pan back down and poured the red sauce onto the cooked noodles sprinkling a few green flakes of basil.
"Chris?" Amy a tall gangly waitress walked in through the swinging door.
"Yeah." He answered pouring the pasta into a pale white bowl.
"He says he wants it rarer."
"What?!" Chris banged his head slightly on a hanging pot as he looked at the waitress holding the steak on the plate.
"That's what he said." Amy shrugged placing the plate down.
"It's lunch. Who even eats steak at lunch!?" Chris groaned as he took the plate. "Caroline, finish this up for me."
"Sure thing." Caroline said as she took over at the stove for Chris.
"Hey, Chris, something's off with this." A tall man, James, turned to the young witch holding out a wooden spoon filled with a spicy orange sauce. Chris grabbed the spoon and took sip of the sauce as he moved over to the grill in the back, James following closely behind him.
"Add salt and a few diced jalapeños." Chris answered as he set down the plate of unwanted steak and opened the freezer grabbing another large piece of beef. "I swear to God if he sends this one back I'm just going to through a frozen one at him."
"What was wrong with it?" A tall dark skinned woman, Dynisty, asked as she took a sip of a tall glass of lemonade.
"First there was too much fat, then it didn't have the spices and mushroom flavor, now it's not rare enough." Chris flopped the cold raw meat onto the grill letting it hiss as steam emitted itself from the heat. Walking over to the fridge he grabbed a few cold spices and threw them on the steak letting the juice soak up the flavor. Breathing a deep breath Chris leaned against the empty space on the counter closing his eyes. When he opened them again Dynisty was holding out the glass for him.
"Thanks." He said as he took the glass from her and took a gulp of the sweet liquid.
"Chris?" Amy came back in calling the chef's name. Chris made some loud noise as he slugged his shoulders. "He wants chicken now."
"You have got to be kidding me!" Chris threw his hands up in the air.
"And he wants to see you when it's done." Amy smiled sympathetically before walking back out.
"Someone give me something sharp and pointy." The brunette took another deep breath before looking around. "Finish this up for me and put it with the pile."
"Sure thing sweetie." Dynisty smiled as she placed the lemonade down and moved over to the grill. The pile was any untouched food that people had sent back for some reason, right now the pile consisted of three soon to be four steaks that they sent to the homeless shelter down the road.
"Amy, if he asks for anything free, refund, whatever don't give it too him. He used that up making me make him three freaking steaks." Chris called to the ruby red haired waitress. She nodded before walking back out the swinging door with a tray full of food on her shoulder.
"Brethren!" Cerberus called out silencing the crowd of demons, the leaders from all kinds before him. Darklighters, warlocks, kazi demons, manticores, the vampire queen, grimlocks, seers, and other varies creatures turned their attention to the demon before them. "To long have we been kept in hiding. Ever since the Triad has failed us we have been forced to squabble amongst ourselves. To long have we been forced to live this life of hardship. But before you I give, a leader unlike any other."
"And what says you that this leader is any different than any of the others who claimed to liberate us?" The vampire queen spoke aloud.
"Too many of our kind have died before, following leaders. Why should more die?" A darklighter questioned.
"Because I have something different, something more valuable than any of the others who have tried and failed you, had." A voice came. A tall demon walked in front of the crowd. The young woman cocked her head slightly, her long curled blonde hair sliding behind her back slightly.
A brute demon laughed loudly at the scene. Pointing at her he turned to the others who laughed. This weak demon claimed to have power none of the others had. Cerberus barked loudly like a rabid dog, hunching his shoulders, his eyes dilating. But the woman raised her hand keeping him at bay and for a moment the room was silent before the brute demon screamed in agony, fire engulfing his body. Throwing his arms up he yelled in anguish, his body exploding into black ashes.
"Anyone else?" The blonde demon questioned with a raised eyebrow of annoyance.
"Let her speak." A seer spoke up from the back. "You are Hecate. Let her show us what she has to offer for our loyalty."
"Thank you." Hecate nodded her head folding her arms. She smiled. No demon dared challenged a seer. Turning to a guard he nodded and walked out returning shortly with another. The two walked out throwing a crumpled form in front of Hecate. The form groaned before attempting to get up. The blonde demon lifted a leg, pressing her heel down on the tip of the dark arrow sticking out of his back. Squirming the body screamed out until Hecate lifted her foot letting him roll over panting.
"Bitch." The voice was male. Hecate sighed before bending down lifting the man by grabbing a handful of his dirt blonde hair. The man was muscular man, with an underlining jaw, and a small stubble. The outsider was distinguishable by his clothes. His white button down shirt was stained with blood from the arrow wound, and his dark jeans were torn and dirty along with his gray suit jacket that had one of the sleeves torn.
"A whitelighter?" A grimlock roared. The whitelighter's face was sweaty and pale as the poison from the arrow seeped through his body. His forest green eyes were glassed over when he opened them only to seal them shut as Hecate gave another yank of his hair.
"How is a whitelighter supposed to help us?" A siren growled.
"Because…This whitelighter is to be the Charmed Ones' new whitelighter." Hecate smugly replied. Bending down she didn't release the whitelighter's hair, simple placing her head on the side of his face. "Isn't that right, Dean?"
"I'd…tell you to go to Hell… but seeing as we're already here." Dean mumbled grunting as Hecate pulled on the back of his head.
"The Charmed Ones already had a whitelighter." An annoyed demon sighed as he crossed his arms, leaning against a stone pillar.
"Actually they had two." Another warlock added.
"Who said I was talking about the First Charmed Ones?" Hecate let her eyebrow rise as the revelation dawned on the faces in the crowd. "Evil has grown in power and to balance that so has good. Prophecies have been made and a new set of Charmed Ones are to be connected. Tonight, on the eve of the death of their ancestor, Melinda Warren."
A loud rumble came from the crowd. Hecate let Dean drop on the ground who had passed out at some point from the pain.
"We have to act, today to take out the new Charmed Ones." A harpie squealed.
"But which witches are the charmed Ones?" Another argued.
"The middle sister, Phoebe's daughters." Someone called out.
"No. It's one daughter from each sister." A warlock calmly and thoughtfully said aloud.
"It's the pure blood witches in the family." A vampire stormed.
"All of you are wrong." Hecate growled.
"Well who do you think it is then?" A banshee hissed. Hecate placed her hands on her hips flipping her hair over her shoulder.
"If you had let me finished I would have told you." Holding up a fire ball she waited for someone to say something else. No one did. "The first time, the Halliwell line was made up of women. The first generation of Charmed Ones were women. Melinda Warren was a woman. But times have changed and rules were broken. This time three half breeds of Halliwell blood, male heirs, are the new Charmed Ones. Follow me. Kill these new thorns in our spines and we can take back what was once ours."
Chris resisted the urge to roll his eyes as a stoutly man was reprimanding him. Every once in a while he would indicate the food with his knife, fork in the other.
"In most occasions I would have up and left with this kind of blah blah. Blah blah blah blah." Chris was pretty good with toning people out. Occasionally he would wrap his arms around him and nod solemnly. He was a pretty good actor too.
"And furthermore…"
"Sir I truly am sorry. I would stay longer but I have to get to the kitchen." Because if you hadn't noticed the dining room is filled with other people who don't seem to have a problem with their food. But that might just be because they don't eat rare steaks for lunch! Chris left out the last part before turning his back on the man and began walking back to the kitchen. The young witch was stopped when he felt a hand grab his wrist.
"Excuse me, but did I hear that man say you're the chef?" Another man asked. Chris attempted to pull his arm free as he felt the grip tighten. The man leaned forward and spoke in a lower tone for only Chris to here. "I'd come with me kid or I start throwing fireballs."
As if to demonstrate he held his hand under the table a large ball of fire floating in his palm.
"Thanks girls." Wyatt called as he watched the models walk out of the club to their cars. Henry swung a trash bag over his shoulder before grabbing an empty wood crate in his other hand. "Alright, I'm going to head these over to my editor. You want me to take those?"
"Nah, go ahead. Just show up on time tonight." Henry smiled. Wyatt laughed as he shoved a large hand onto his spiky head tossing his hair around. Henry pushed his hand off and started walked out towards the back.
Using his hand with the crate in it he pushed the back door open and walked out into the alley. Tossing the crate over into the pile of recyclables he moved to the dumpster. He froze slightly listening around him. The alley was silent, dead as night and he was alone. San Francisco fog hung low and the clouds rolled silently as a front moved in. Hesitantly Henry moved again lifting the trash bag into the green dumpster.
"Here witchy witchy." A voice whistled. Henry spun around hand out to the side. No one was there.
A sinister snicker bellowed in Henry's ear before he began to choke, a gold light beaming from his throat. Gasping for breath he fell to his knees, a grimlock revealed himself from hiding behind a small opening in the alley. Henry began to panic but not because several more demons shimmered in behind the deathly white grimlock. No there was an entirely different reason.
His powers didn't work.