"Defense of the Realm" [PG-13]

[mcharmed21]

Author:
Rina Keaton
CHAPTER 1 -


The man glanced at his watch. It read eleven forty-eight. Which meant that a certain dealer should be in his hotel bedroom about now. Fast asleep. He took a deep breath, opened the side door to the Powell House Hotel and crept inside.

Using the employees' express elevator, the man made his way to the hotel's eighth floor. Before the door slid open, he pulled a stocking over his head, to disguise his feature. The crept along the hotel's corridor, fearful of encountering another hotel guest or employee. He sighed in relief, upon reaching his destination without any confrontation.

He retrieved a card key he had made by a forger and slid it into the lock. A green lock signaled that the door to Room 805 was unlocked and he surreptiously opened the door.

The room was pitch dark. The man removed a small flashlight from his bag and turned it on. The light revealed doors that led to two bedrooms. According to his employer, Mr. Gregory Liederhoff of New York City should be in the bedroom on the right. The man headed toward the said bedroom and opened the door. As expected, Mr. Liederhoff laid his bed, fast asleep.

The man silently made his way to the corner of the east wall, and the room's safe. He removed an instrument and clamped it over the safe's door. After he punched a few buttons, the machine whirled slightly. The man glanced at Liederhoff, who remained fast asleep. A slight click signaled that the safe had been unlocked.

Slowly, the man opened the safe's door. He winced slightly at the sound of a small creak. As he reached inside for a wide black velvet case, a bright light flooded the room. The man blinked.

"Who are you?" Liederhoff demanded. He stared at the man with anxious eyes. "Oh my God! You're trying to take the . . ."

The man whipped out a gun with a muffler at the end of the barrel, and shot Liederhoff in the chest. Twice. The dealer's body fell back upon the bed with a thump.

Quickly, the man snatched the velvet case and opened it. The object in question was inside. He let out a small sigh and quickly closed the safe's door. As he raced back into the suite's living room, he saw a yellow light illuminate under the other door. Liederhoff's assistant. The man dumped the velvet case in his bag and quickly left the room.

* * * *



Darryl parked his sedan next to a curb on Kearny Street and switched off the engine. He and his red-haired partner glanced at the shop to their right. The sign read Kostopulos's ANTIQUITIES.

"Tell me why we're here again?" Olivia asked, as they climbed out of the car. "I thought we were supposed to investigate the Liederhoff murder."

Darryl sighed. "Because I'm bored. Or because the bullets found in the body of Liederhoff's body matched with the bullets found in Stefan Kostopulos' body."

"Aren't Scott and Carlotta supposed to be pouring over the shop's inventory?"

Darryl did not bother to answer. Instead, a grunt left his mouth, as he and Olivia started toward the shop. The pair ducked under the yellow police tape that barred the front door and entered.

Olivia had to admit that she found the shop's interior intriguing. The atmosphere reminded her of Vivian Dubois' shop in New Orleans - a colorful place filled with interesting artifacts and antiquities situated in a slightly slap dash manner. It lacked that cold, museum-like aura that many antique and furniture shops seemed to possess these days.

"Man!" Darryl exclaimed. "What kind of stuff did this dude sell?" He picked up what looked like a jewelry box. But this particular box had strange markings curved on its sides.

Olivia immediately recognized the markings as Celtic Druid language. Furthermore, she knew what they meant. "Uh, if I were you, Darryl, I'd put down that box."

"Oh? Why?"

With a sigh, Olivia explained. "Because if you open it, you might find yourself transported into another dimension." Her partner immediately returned the box to the shelf.

"What is this place?" Darryl demanded. "Have you ever seen it before?"

Olivia shook her head. "Nope. I know of this shop in the Haight-Ashbury District. And Cecile's mom owns one similar to this in the French Quarter. But no, I've never been here."

"Hmmm." Darryl peered through a glass case that held a variety of knives and daggers. "I wonder if Cole knows about this place."

The moment Darryl mentioned her ex-boyfriend's name, Olivia stiffened. She had spent the past few days trying to put Cole behind her. "I don't know," she said, barely able to keep the chilliness out of her tone. "If he does, I'm sure that Phoebe also knows about it."

Silence filled the shop. The only noise came from Union Square, outside. Olivia could sense Darryl's eyes upon her. She tried to ignore him and concentrated her attention on a case filled with pendants and other jewelry. "What?" she finally said, unable to deal with her partner's silence.

"I wondered if you were ever going to mention Cole's name, again," Darryl replied.

Olivia retorted, "I didn't mention his name. You did."

Darryl sighed and tapped her shoulder. "Olivia, what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean . . . what happened between you and Cole? How did he end up with Phoebe, again?"

Olivia regarded her partner with feign contempt. "Gee Darryl! Where have you been for the past week-and-a-half? It's simple. We broke up. I tried to kill him and he went back to Phoebe. End of story."

"C'mon McNeill! I know it wasn't that simple," Darryl shot back. "What really happened? Didn't Cole realize you had been under a spell?"

[mcharmed21]

Sighing, Olivia replied, "Look, it's like this. Paul cast a 'I hate Cole and let's kill him' spell on me. I broke up with him. Phoebe had visions of what really happened between him and the Source. They reconciled. While under the spell, I dumped Cole and he turned to Phoebe for comfort. They decided to have a grand reconciliation. Hearts and all. But before Harry and Mom had broken the spell. I went to see Cole at his place. Found Phoebe there, and I found out about their reconciliation. I stood there like a dummy for a minute or two and wished them well. Then, I got the hell out!"

"Oh." Darryl paused. "I see. In other words, you simply gave up. Surrendered to Phoebe."

Olivia stared at Darryl, as if he had lost his mind. "What? What the hell was I supposed to do? Grab Cole's arm and claim him for . . .?" The sound of rattling trashcans interrupted Olivia. She and Darryl exchanged a brief glance, before they dashed toward the alley, out back.

There, they found a derelict - a shabbily-dressed woman, whose face and clothes were stained with dirt. Matted brown hair had been twisted into a chignon. The woman was busy rummaging through a trash can. She took one look at the two police officers, turned on her heels and tried to make a run for it. Unfortunately, both Olivia and Darryl proved to be faster.

"Hey! Police officers! Hold it!" Darryl grabbed the woman's arm. "We just want to talk to you."

Looking terrified, the woman struggled to escape Darryl's grip. "I didn't see nothing," she cried. "Honest!"

"See what?" Olivia gently asked.

The woman's large brown eyes blinked. "Uh . . . you two robbing the store?"

"Do we look dressed for committing a robbery?"

"Well . . . not like that last . . ." The woman broke off and clapped one grimy hand over her mouth.

Olivia's eyes narrowed. "Not like the last . . . what? Have you witnessed another robbery . . . what's your name?"

The woman gave a suspicious sniff. "Huh, what's yours?"

Pulling out her badge, Olivia declared, "Inspector McNeill of the San Francisco PD."

"And I'm Lieutenant Morris." Darryl released the woman's arm. "Now, who are you?"

The woman nervously tugged at her clothes. "Look, I didn't see. . ."

"What's your name?" Darryl insisted. "Of course, we can simply take you in."

"On what charge?"

Olivia took a step closer to the woman. "Loitering. And since you obviously don't have a dime to pay for fine, I'm sure that you'll end up spending 'time' behind bars."

Another sniff from the woman followed. "So what? I could use a bed and a meal for the night."

"What makes you think you'll receive either?" Darryl said in a threatening tone.

The woman glared at the two police officers. "Hey! You just can't . . ." Her outrage quickly dissipated, under the partners' intimidating gazes. "Okay! All right," she said, with a defeated air. "My name is Grace Newhan."

Olivia suppressed a triumphant smile. "Do you hang around here a lot, Grace?"

"Well . . . yeah. Mr. Kostopulos always have a meal waiting for me around this time of the day. But ever since he was killed," Grace heaved a regretful sigh, "it's been hard finding something to eat."

Both Olivia and Darryl regarded the homeless woman with sympathetic eyes. "Well, Inspector McNeill and I wouldn't mind providing you with a free meal," Darryl said. "That is . . . if you can answer a few questions for us."

Olivia added, "Like did you see anything, when the shop was robbed nearly two weeks ago?"

Grace hesitated. Fear flickered in her brown eyes, followed by hunger. Her shoulders sagged. "Yeah. I saw the guy. The robber."

Darryl's eyes glimmered with excitement. "So, you saw him. Well that's good! That's . . . why don't you join us at the precinct and you can tell us the everything that you saw." He indicated the shop's back door with a sweep of his arm.

Grace warily headed toward the door. Before Olivia and Darryl could follow her, the latter added in a sotto voice, "Remind me to ask Morales at the station's garage, to fumigate the car." Olivia merely smiled, as she followed her partner into the shop.

* * * *



"Mathilda Everard, the Whitelighter Council has found you guilty of withholding valuable information from the Council. We have also found you guilty of taking action against Belthazor without our consent. Therefore, we decree that you will no longer serve as an Elder on the said Council."

The Council's verdict echoed in the former Elder's mind like a bad song. After 321 years of serving as an Elder, Mathilda had been demoted to a whitelighter. A mere foot soldier for the Army of Good. A minion. She sighed. The humiliation seemed too much to bear.

After the Council had stripped Mathilda of her Elder robe and position, they assigned her to the Realm's extensive library - the scene of her past triumphs as a researcher and librarian. Only this time, she did not feel any satisfaction at being there. On the desk, before her, lay a parchment that traced the bloodline of a family of 14th and 15th century warlocks named DeGrasse. Mathilda sighed. Until this day, she never realized how tedious research could be.

"Elder Everard?"

The newly demoted whitelighter glanced up. Before her stood one of her former followers - an Austrian-born whitelighter named Johann Bauer. "Johann," she commented politely. "What can I do for you?"

"I have learned that the other Elders have dismissed you from the Council," the brown-haired whitelighter said in a thick accent. "How . . . why?"

A faint smirk formed on Mathilda's lips. "According to the Council, I had made a decision without their consent. And I had also withheld from them, my plans to vanquish Belthazor." The smirk became a grimace. "Of course, the real reason I have been punished is that my plan had failed. The hypocrites!" She sighed. "If the witch had succeeded in vanquishing Belthazor, the Council would have overlooked . . . my discretion. And I would have become the Head Elder." The reality of her failure deflated her anger. "But that is no longer possible."

"Is it?" the other whitelighter commented. Mathilda stared into his violet eyes. "What about your contingency plans?" he added.

Mathilda frowned. "My contingency plans? You mean . . . to replace the Council members? By force?" She shook her head. "I don't know."

"Fraulein Everard, the Whitelighters Realm is descending into chaos. The Council lacks the strength and intelligence to deal with it. Only a strong person with the mind and will . . ."

Still staring at Johann, Mathilda exclaimed, "Are you referring to me?"

Hope and faith shone in Johann's eyes. "Jawol, Fraulein. I am. I realize that this second plan may seem . . . aggressive. And that it could spell the end of your former colleagues' . . ."

Mathilda ignored the Austrian's platitudes. Instead, she continued to focus upon his arguments that the Realm needs a new leader to meet the threat of the growing chaos. And Belthazor. "You're right of course," she murmured, interrupting Johann.

The younger whitelighter's eyes widened. "Pardon?"

"You're right. About the Council needing a strong hand to guide the Realm. I can't ignore that - despite my setback." Mathilda sprang out of her chair. "We'll do it. We'll use the contingency plan." She sighed with regret. "Granted, it might seem violent and excessive. But desperate measures are needed for desperate times." Her mouth formed a grim line.

A gust of breath escaped from Johann's lips. "Which members do we target?" he asked.

Mathilda glanced at him. "Draw up a list of the present Council members. All nine of them."

"Eight," Johann added. "You have not been replaced."

"All right. Eight." Mathilda nodded. "We'll see which member gets to witness the Whitelighters Realm's new age. And which one doesn't." Then without a moment's hesitation, she returned to her seat and continued with her assignment.

[mcharmed21]

Within the Whitelighters' Realm, Leo Wyatt stood before the Elders' Council for the umpteenth time. Although he outwardly presented a calm appearance, inwardly, he quaked with anxiety.

Leo had learned how the Elders had punished Mathilda for the Olivia/Cole/Paul fiasco. Now, it was his turn to face the Council. Elder MacKenzie stared coldly at the younger whitelighter. "Leo Wyatt, you have been found guilty of withholding valuable information regarding the notorious Belthazor. Furthermore, you have conspired with former Elder Mathilda Everard to vanquish said demon without this council's consent The failure of your actions have resulted in the death of the loyal and valuable witch, Paul Margolin; and Olivia McNeill's rejection of this council's authority."

Olivia's rejection of the Council's authority? Leo nearly snorted with derision. Whatever happened to free will? And whom were they kidding? Olivia has not acknowledged their authority in over thirteen years.

Elder McKenzie continued, "It is the judgment of this Council that you be suspended from your duties as whitelighter to your charges for six months." Dread overwhelmed Leo. He knew what that meant. His wings would be clipped. Again. However, Elder MacKenzie dispelled Leo's fears with the following words. "Instead, you will assist Ludmilla Kamilov in the Sorting Department for six hours everyday, as measured in this realm."

Leo wished that he could feel relief over the Council's final sentence. Unfortunately, he failed. He realized that the Elders had enacted an appropriate punishment - forcing him to assist the notoriously brusque Ludmilla Kamilov to distribute assignments to new whitelighters for six months. Only God knew how long those six hours would measure on Earth. It was a task that he did not look forward to. Oh well. At least he would keep his wings.

The Elders added, "Do you have anything to say, Mr. Wyatt?"

Oh yes. Leo had forgotten. "Uh, who will be responsible for my charges?" he asked.

A young man in his early twenties strode into the chamber and stopped beside Leo. Handsome in a boyish, yet intense manner, he possessed dark brown hair and wide blue eyes. He also struck a familiar chord within Leo. "You remember Mr. Christopher Perry, don't you Leo?" Elder Sylvester commented. "He had helped us in that matter regarding the Titans, last spring."

Now Leo remembered. The time traveler. "Oh. Yeah, uh . . . why isn't . . .?" He faced the whitelighter standing next to him. "Aren't you supposed to be back in the future, or something?"

"I'm afraid that Christopher is trapped here in the past at the moment," Sylvester continued. "He was unable to return to his own time. At least permanently. There are several witches working on the matter."

Leo continued to stare at his replacement. "Oh. Um . . ."

"Yes?"

After a brief hesitation, Leo continued, "Isn't . . . isn't Chris a little young to act as whitelighter to my charges? Especially the Charmed Ones? Let alone, unexperienced?" He added to Chris, "No offense."

A touch of frost glazed over Chris' blue eyes. "None taken. Don't worry. I've had experience in the future."

Elder Madeline Pivet smiled placidly. "There. You see? You have nothing to worry about, Leo. Christophe will do an admirable job with your charges. And do not forget - there were those who had believed you were not experienced enough to deal with the Charmed Ones, considering you had been a whitelighter for fifty odd years at the time."

"Oh. Of course." Leo struggled to prevent his resentment from overwhelming him. "Whatever you say." He glanced at Chris and noticed that the latter's eyes also flashed with resentment. Interesting.

* * * *



Marbus stepped out of the elevator and strode down the corridor of Jackman, Carter and Kline Law Offices' tenth floor. He entered one of the offices and halted in front of the desk that belonged to his nephew's assistant. "Good afternoon . . . Miss Read, isn't it?"

The handsome-looking woman responded with a strained smile. "Mr. Farrell. Good morn . . . I mean, good afternoon. Uh, I'll inform Mr. Turner that you're here." Her smile disappeared, while the strained expression remained.

Realizing that something was amiss, Marbus frowned. "Miss Read? Is there a problem? You look a bit peaked."

"Huh? Uh . . . it's no . . ." Miss Read hesitated. Then she gave her head a quick shake. "It's nothing."

"Is it Bel . . . uh, Mr. Turner?"

Again, the legal assistant hesitated. She sighed. "I'm sorry to say this, but he's been a big . . . I mean, rather difficult, lately. I don't know. It seems as if he's had some burr up his ass for the past week-and-a-half."

"Hmmm."

Another sigh left Miss Read's mouth. "I'll announce you." She picked up the telephone and dialed an extension. "Mr. Turner, your uncle is here to see you." After a brief pause, she hung up and glanced at Marbus. "You can go in."

Marbus gave her a reassuring smile. "Thank you, Miss Read. Take care." He strode into his nephew's office and found the younger demon barking at someone on the telephone.

"I don't give a rat's ass about the hours of Hudson Enterprises, Greg!" Cole shouted into the receiver. "I want a copy of that file within 24 hours!" He slammed the receiver down and faced his uncle. A polite smile replaced the scowl on his face. "Marbus. What brings you here?"

The older demon warily eyed his nephew. "I meant to treat you to lunch, today. At a place called Vornado's. You'll never believe who owns it."

"Riggerio," Cole sharply replied. "But I thought his place was a jazz club."

Ignoring Cole's curt attitude, Marbus added, "Apparently, he has decided to open the place for lunch, as well."

"How nice." Cole began to sort through a pile of files on his desk.

Marbus decided that he had enough of his nephew's churlish behavior. "All right, boyo! Is there a reason why you're acting like a complete bastard?"

"It's nothing," Cole murmured.

"Oh I see. So, this has nothing to do with Fran? Or Olivia?"

Cole stared at him with intense blue eyes. "Her name is Phoebe, okay? Phoebe, not Fran!" he snapped. "And what exactly are you getting at?"

"Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes, boy," Marbus coolly replied. "I'm not the only one who has noticed your foul mood, lately. What's wrong?"

A heavy sigh left Cole's mouth, as he leaned back against his chair. "Nothing. It's . . . aw @#%$! I think I may have made a big mistake."

"Oh?"

Looking morose, Cole continued, "I . . . when Olivia was still under that spell, Phoebe had suggested we get back together."

Marbus nodded. "I understand. And you said yes."

"Yeah. I was pretty upset over Olivia dumping me." Cole shrugged his shoulders before sighing. "Only I didn't know at the time she was under Margolin's spell. And after the whole thing ended, Phoebe showed up to help me recover. Two days later . . . Olivia dropped by. Only Phoebe was there."

"Bloody hell1!" Marbus exclaimed.

Cole added wryly, "Precisely. You should have seen what happened. Olivia looked as if someone had stunned her with a cattle prod. Phoebe practically claimed me for herself - making sure that Olivia knew that we were a couple. And I couldn't say a @#%$ word."

Poor bastard, Marbus thought. What a bloody mess. He felt sorry for his nephew - being torn between two women. "How odd," he commented. "Nearly a year ago, you were determined to win back Fran . . . uh, Phoebe. And now you seemed to have her back . . . against your will. I guess love sometimes die."

"I never said that I no longer love Phoebe!" Cole protested.

Giving his nephew a shrewd look, Marbus countered, "Aye, but you're no longer 'in love' with her. Are you?"

"Look Marbus . . ." Cole began.

The older demon interrupted, "Bloody hell, boy! Answer the question! Am I right? Aren't you really in love with Olivia?"

Cole's mouth tightened, as he glared at his uncle. "This conversation is over," he snapped.

Exasperated by his nephew's stubbornness and repressive nature, Marbus sighed. "If you insist. By the way, are you still available for lunch?"

"Yeah. Sure," Cole mumbled. "But I thought you would be having lunch with the likes of Mark Giovanni."

Marbus rolled his eyes at the mention of the wine grower's name. "Good grief! Do me a favor, lad. Try not to mention that man's name during the next hour or so. After spending several weeks with that family, I'm about to go out of me bloody mind. In my humble opinion, the entire family needs a good psychiatrist."

Cole chuckled - a sound Marbus had wondered if he would ever hear again. "God Marbus! Who on this earth doesn't need a psychiatrist?"

"Besides," Marbus added, ignoring the other demon's sardonic comment, "there hasn't been an attack on Mark since that incident with the darklighter and her warlock."

Cole grunted. "Don't worry. I'm sure that the Magan Corporation is thinking of another way to get its hands on Mark's Oakville property. Which is why I would be grateful if you can remain 'friends' with him."

[mcharmed21]

"All right," Marbus protested. "But I need a break from him. At least today. If you don't mind." He opened the door. "Ready to go?"

"Ready." Cole grabbed his jacket and brushed past his uncle. Marbus quickly followed.

* * * *

An upper-level demon named Prax entered the plush office of the Magan Corporation’s CEO. Many employees found it odd that Mr. Arthur Winslow’s office was located on the building’s fourteenth floor, instead of the top floor. Prax knew the reason behind the location of Mr. Winslow’s office. He also knew that Winslow happened to be Artemus, another upper-level demon and present head of the XXXXXX Order. And that Artemus wished to keep his presence a secret, in case someone had linked him to the no-longer-existing Arthur Winslow.

“Pardon me Artemus,” Prax said to the distinguished-looking man who sat behind a large desk.

Artemus glanced up from his work. Slightly annoyed by his assistant’s interruption, he growled, “What is it, Prax?”<br>
“You have a visitor, sir.” Prax paused. “The . . . uh, the new darklighter that . . .”<br>
The older demon’s skin tingled with anticipation. “Show him in, Prax,” he ordered. “And please bring him a cup of his usual coffee.”<br>
The minion responded with an obedient nod and ushered in the visitor. After Prax had disappeared, the darklighter eased into a chair opposite Artemus. “So,” the latter continued, “how is life in the Whitelighters’ Realm?”<br>
Johann Bauer heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Intense. The Council is still shaken over Elder Everard’s plot to kill Belthazor.”<br>
“The witch wasn’t able to kill him?” Artemus asked.

“She nearly accomplished the task . . .” Johann began.

Artemus’ brows rose questioningly. “Really?”<br>
“Yes, but her brothers and one of the Charmed Ones were able to stop her in time.” Johann heaved another sigh. “Mathilda had hoped that the McNeill witch would reveal her spell to vanquish Belthazor to the others, but . . . she has refused.”<br>
Artemus shrugged. “Not surprising, since she’s in love with him. I will deal with Miss McNeill, later. However, we have a more pressing matter to discuss.” He allowed his eyes to bore into the darklighter’s. “Like the Elders’ Council.”<br>
“I have informed Fraulein Everhard of your plan – as you had suggested. Although she was reluctant at first, she seemed eager to use it.” Johann’s voice expressed surprise in his last sentence.

“Surprised?”<br>
The darklighter nodded. “Well . . . yes. I never thought a whitelighter would, uh . . .”<br>
“Would what?” Artemus demanded. “Resort to violence to achieve a means? Why would you find that surprising. The whitelighters have been encouraging witches to kill all demons on sight. With extreme prejudice. Many of them have never bothered to distinguish between demons such as ourselves, and those who help other beings, like the Gimle demons. As far as whitelighters like Mathilda are concerned, a good demon is a dead demon. Please remember Herr Bauer that whitelighters used to be humans. When they became whitelighters, they failed to evolve beyond the usual human emotions – both light and dark. Besides, I’ve heard of Mathilda Everard. A ruthless @#%$, if all accounts of her are correct. And very self-righteous. She’s one of those ruthless and self-righteous creatures who would resort to any act to further her cause. Even if it meant committing any dark deeds.”<br>
Johann hesitated. “Does that mean harming her fellow whitelighters?”<br>
Allowing himself a wry smile, Artemus replied, “Of course. Look how she had plotted behind the Council’s back to manipulate the McNeill witch into killing Belthazor. Like I said – very ruthless. However,” Artemus’ smile hardened, “poor Miss Everhard is in for a very nasty surprise. A very nasty one, indeed.”<br>

END OF CHAPTER 2

[mcharmed21]

"DEFENSE OF THE REALM" by RFK


CHAPTER 3 -


Olivia glanced at the sketching made by her fellow officer, Marcus Anderson, of the assailant who had murdered Stefan KosXXXX and robbed the store newly two weeks ago. "Grace," she said to the homeless woman who had provided the description, "are you sure this is the man that you saw?"

Grace nodded. "That's him, all right. He had taken off a hood from his head, while leaving through the back door. Actually, it was a stocking." Her eyes fell longingly upon the white container of food on Darryl's desk. "Say, uh . . . is that it? My lunch?"

"In a minute," Darryl said. He turned to Marcus. "Check the drawing against any of perps we have on file."

"Sure Darryl." Marcus gave a quick nod, took the drawing and left the squad room.

Darryl handed the plastic container to Grace. "Here you go. Enjoy yourself." Grace eagerly took the tray and began to open it. "Uh . . . why don't you eat your lunch inside the breakroom? It's down the hall."

"Sure." Still clutching the container, Grace stood up. She hesitated and said to the two partners, "Hey, if you ever need any help from me, I'll be glad to be a snitch for you."

Olivia and Darryl exchanged looks. The former realized this was the homeless woman's way of acquiring another source of free meals. Darryl sighed, while Olivia smiled at the other woman. "Sure thing Grace," she said. "In fact, why don't you drop by around here, every day around one? To check and see if we have an assignment for you."

"Great!" Grace flashed a grateful smile, revealing two missing teeth. Then she scurried out of the squad room, clutching her lunch.

Darryl turned to Olivia and wryly commented, "Whaddaya know? Our own personal snitch. I wonder how many free lunches we'll be investing in over the next several months. Or years."

Olivia snorted. "Probably half or less-than-half the amount we usually pay on a weekly basis for lunch. I only hope that Grace . . ." She broke off, when Scott Yi and Carlotta Trujillo approached Darryl's desk. "Hey guys. Where have you been?"

"Going over KosXXXX's inventory," Scott wearily replied. "And matching it to what we've found inside the store. God, that man had a lot of stuff!" He was a young man of Chinese descent, with a narrow, handsome face and high cheekbones. Scott, a six-year veteran of the city's police force, was three years younger than Olivia.

Darryl frowned. "Olivia and I were at the store, this morning. So, where were you two?"

Carlotta Trujillo, a tall and attractive woman, whose parents had immigrated from El Salvador over thirty years ago, dropped into the empty chair next to Olivia's desk. "Having lunch. Being inside that store was driving us crazy."

"Find anything missing?" Darryl asked.

"Oh, wait a minute." Carlotta sat up straight. "There was one or two items missing."

"Like what?"

Carlotta removed a folded spread sheet from her purse. "Item 215," she said, as she handed the sheet to Olivia.

"Item 215?" Olivia glanced at the sheet. "And that happens to be . . . a medallion? Made from gold." She stared at Carlotta and Scott. "So, this medallion is missing?"

Scott nodded. "It's certainly not there."

"How do you know?" Darryl asked.

Carlotta handed him a small photo. "There's a picture of every item in the store. You should see the boxes where KosXXXXXX kept them. The medallion in that photo is missing."

Olivia shook her head in disbelief. "What do you know? He managed to keep all that stuff organized in some way." Darryl handed her the photograph. She stared at the medallion with the strange inscriptions. "This looks as if it belongs in a museum, instead of a store."

"Scott thinks it may have been some kind of antiquity," Carlotta added. "Maybe even a religious piece."

Darryl stared at the other man. "Really? I didn't realize you were some kind of art historian, Scott."

A pink flush colored Scott's face. "I, uh . . . I dabbled a little in the subject, while in college. I'm no expert or anything." He sighed. "I don't know. I guess it looks like something out of Indiana Jones. And I can't image what that inscription means."

"I know this museum curator," Carlotta added. "I used to date him, a few years ago. Maybe he can help. Want us to question him?"

Darryl shrugged. "Go ahead. And when you finish, I want you and Scott to look more into the Liederhoff case. Ask Liederhoff's assistant, if anything similar to this medallion is missing." He returned the photo to Scott.

"Okay." Carlotta patted Scott's arm. "Let's go, partner." As she headed toward the door, Scott remained rooted to the spot, staring at the photo in his hand with a frown. Carlotta paused to call for him. "Scott?"

"Yeah, I hear you." And Scott followed his partner out of the room.

Meanwhile, both Olivia and Darryl exchanged knowing looks. "Did you see the inscription on that medallion?" the latter asked. "Looked similar to what was on that box I had nearly opened."

"The language on that medallion looked a hell of a lot older," Olivia commented. "If the two missing medallions have anything to do with the occult, it looks like we have more than a simple double murder-robbery on our hands."

Darryl heaved a long sigh. "I was afraid you were going to say to say that."

[mcharmed21]

Later that evening, Phoebe and Paige stared at the two whitelighters with disbelieving eyes. "Say that again?" the middle sister demanded.

Leo took a deep breath. "You girls have a new whitelighter. This is Chris. Chris Perry."

Paige shook her head. "I don't understand. Your wings got clipped again?"

"No. The . . . uh, the Elders had decided to let me keep my wings," Leo morosely added. "I just won't have any charges for the next six months. I'll, uh . . . I'll be assisting the Mad Queen . . . I mean, Ludmilla Kamilova in the Sorting Department."

Phoebe asked, "The Sorting what?"

Leo explained that the Sorting Department assigned whitelighters to their new charges. A fellow whitelighter named Ludmilla Kamilov ran the department. He sighed. "She can be . . . pretty difficult."

"How long will you be working in this . . . Sorting Department?" Everyone turned to Piper, who had asked the question.

Leo hemmed and hawed. "Six hours a day," he answered. "That's about eight or nine hours a day, here on Earth."

"So, you'll be working regular hours, every day? Including weekends?"

According to Leo, he would be forced to work four Earth hours in the Whitelighter Realm on Saturdays. Nearly beside herself, Piper silently relished over Leo's new assignment. One glance at her younger sisters told her that they did not share her opinion. Especially Phoebe.

"So, you'll be stuck in some bureaucratic division, while this guy," Phoebe pointed at Chris, "will be acting as our new whitelighter? How is he supposed to handle both his charges and yours at the same time?"

Both Leo and Chris exchanged glances, before the former replied, "Chris doesn't have any charges, at the moment. I mean, he didn't, before he was assigned to mine. At least not in this time period."

"Time period?" Piper wondered if she had heard right. "Uh, Leo . . .?"

The other whitelighter added, "I'm from the future. About twenty-three years in the future. I . . ."

"He had come to the past to warn the Elders about the Titans," Leo quickly finished. "Before they could attack. Unfortunately, Chris lost his only means back to the future. He's stuck here."

Paige murmured, "Too bad."

Chris' face turned red.

"I'm sure that he'll do a good job," Piper added, coming to Chris' defense. The others stared at her. "What?"

Resentment flaring in her dark eyes, Phoebe murmured, "Nothing. I guess you have nothing to be upset about."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Piper demanded. But Phoebe remained silent. Which suited Piper just fine. In fact, Leo being forced to work eight hours a day like any working man suited her just fine. For the first time since Leo had lost his wings, they had a chance of having a normal marriage.


"Well, I have to introduce Chris to the rest of my old charges," Leo said, breaking the silence.

Piper gave her husband an affectionate peck on the cheek. "I'll see you later." Then Leo and Chris orbed away.

The moment the two whitelighter had disappeared, Phoebe rounded on the older sister. "How could you stand there and say nothing, Piper? Aren't you pissed off that the Elders have dumped some green whitelighter on us?"

"No Phoebe, I'm not," Piper coolly replied. "And you want to know why?"

Paige added sardonically, "Oh, I think we have a pretty good idea. You finally get to have more of Leo for the next six months."

"What? Is that a problem? I don't see why you two are upset. Both of you were pissed at Leo for his little plot against Cole and Olivia. Aren't you satisfied that he's now being punished?"

Both Phoebe and Paige opened their mouths to retort and ended up, looking speechless. A scowl appeared on Phoebe's face, as she snatched her purse from the sofa. She marched toward the door and opened it. "I'm going to see Cole." She left the house and slammed the door with great force.

Piper turned to Paige, who sighed. "I guess I'll watch some TV." The youngest Charmed One started toward the Sun Room. Piper allowed herself a small smile and headed for the nursery.

* * * *

Blue lights appeared inside the office above the Golden Horn restaurant. Bruce and Harry glanced up from the book on the former's desk, and watched Leo materialize with a dark-haired stranger.

"Leo," Bruce said, frowning at his former whitelighter. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The blond whitelighter winced at Bruce's hostile greeting. "Hey, Bruce. Harry." He sighed. "Uh, I'd like you to meet Chris." He nodded at the stranger.

Harry coolly nodded at Leo's companion. "Nice to meet you. Chris who?"

Chris stepped forward, much to Leo's obvious discomfort. "Chris Perry. I'm your new whitelighter."

Bruce stared at Leo, while his brother snorted with derision. Noticing the frown on Chris' face, Bruce explained, "I guess Leo never told you. We don't have a whitelighter."

"Maybe that was true after Leo had received his suspension," Chris replied. "But the Elders Council . . ."

Rolling his eyes, Harry retorted, "Look, I don't wish to bust your bubble, Chris, but maybe my brother hasn't made it clear. Leo hasn't been Bruce and Olivia's whitelighter for years. Over a decade, as a matter of fact. And I've never accepted him as mine. Nor do we accept the Elders Council's authority. It's a family tradition."

"But . . . all witches have a whitelighter."

"We don't," Bruce replied firmly. He frowned, recalling something Chris had said. "Did you say that Leo has been suspended? What the hell is going on?"

Leo sighed, while Chris' glance fell to the floor. "I've been suspended from my duties," Leo explained. "I won't be acting as whitelighter to my charges for the next six months."

Harry frowned. "You lost your wings, again?"

"No, I . . ."

Chris interrupted. "The Elders have reassigned him to another duty in the Realm."

In other words, the Elders have punished Leo for the debacle surrounding Olivia's attempt to kill Cole. Bruce could hardly believe it. Whether they were punishing Leo for an unauthorized action or for the plan's failure, he could only guess.

Harry managed. "So, the Elders are making you pay for that mess regarding Livy and Cole, huh?" he said to the older whitelighter. "What about the Elder who had planned the whole thing? What's her name? Mathilda?"

[mcharmed21]

Leo glanced away, while Chris answered, "She has been removed from the Council. She's no longer an Elder. As for me not being your whitelighter . . ."

"That's right partner," Harry added. "You're not."

"But . . ."

Bruce turned to his former whitelighter. "Leo, I think you better explain to your friend that he's wasting his breath."

A sigh left Leo's mouth. He jerked Chris' arm. "Let's go. We're through here." He orbed out of the office. A confused expression stamped on his face, Chris quickly followed.

Harry turned to Bruce. "Well, that was interesting."

* * * *




Elder Sylvester Monroe stifled a yawn, as he marched along the corridor toward his quarters. Another difficult day in the Whitelighter Realm. News had arrived of three whitelighters joining a faction headed by the rebellious Natalia Stepanova.

If he had to be honest with himself, Sylvester could honestly say that the Whitelighter Realm was sliding into chaos. Slowly. This had been the case, ever since the Source's final death over a year ago. Whitelighters were either abandoning the cause of good in favor of evil and becoming darklighters, or were clinging that upstart Stepanova's idiotic notion that whitelighters should encourage their charges to focus more on spiritual matters and less on fighting evil. After five hundred and six years as a whitelighter, Sylvester wondered if his world was falling apart.

At the next meeting, perhaps he should . . . Sylvester gasped out loud, when a sharp pain pierced his chest. He glanced down and discovered that someone had shot him with an arrow. The pain spread throughout his chest. When shortness of breath followed, Sylvester realized with horror that he had been struck by a darklighter's arrow.

Struggling to maintain his breath, Sylvester tried to make his way to the nearest chamber. But the arrow's poison had quickly spread. He had not taken ten steps, before he finally fell to the ground and slipped into darkness . . . and death.

A crowd of whitelighter stared at the corpse sprawled in the middle of the corridor. Among them were two women - Natalia Stepanova and Barbara deVilliers. "Mon dieu!" the latter declared in shocked tone. "I cannot believe this has happened! One of the Elders killed?"

"Trust me, my friend, I am quite stunned myself," Natalia replied, shaking her head. "There will be an emergency meeting over this, of course."

Barbara stared at her fellow whitelighter. "How can you be so calm about this, Natalia? An Elder is dead! Murdered! This is the first time anything like this has happened."

"I am far from calm. In fact, I am worried." Natalia continued to stare at the corpse. "After so many attempts, someone has finally been able to kill an Elder."

"What attempts?"

Natalia continued, "Remember the warlock who had killed several witches, a darklighter and a fellow whitelighter in order to acquire an orbing power?"

"I remember," Barbara said with a nod. "I also remember that the whitelighter who had been killed was also named Natalia."

"Close. Actually, her name was Natalie," the Russian corrected. She pointed at a familiar, blond-haired whitelighter. "If Leo, over there, had not brought the Charmed Ones up here, the entire Realm would have been destroyed. And let's not forget the Titans." Both women shuddered. "And the attack on Elder Ramus, while he was preparing to retire." Natalie's mouth formed a thin line. "I had once warned the Council to prepare for possible chaos, after the Source's last death. I only hope they will heed our warning."

Barbara harbored the same hope.

* * * *



“Olivia McNeill?”<br>
A gasp left Olivia’s mouth, as she whirled around to see who had uttered her name. The last person she had expected to see in her apartment was a slim, dark-haired young man in his early twenties. He possessed blue eyes that seemed very familiar.

“Who in the hell are you?” she demanded angrily. “And what are you doing in my apartment?”<br>
The young man winced at her hostile tone. “I’m Chris. Chris Perry. Your new whitelighter. Didn’t your brothers tell you about me?”<br>
“No, they didn’t,” Olivia snapped back. “And I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have a whitelighter – new or old.” She paused and gave the newcomer a hard stare. “What happened to Leo?”<br>
The whitelighter – or Chris – shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “The Council had suspended him. I’ve taken over responsibility for all of his charges.”<br>
Olivia allowed one brow to form a dubious arch. “Taken responsibility?”<br>
“Yes. His charges are now mine.” Chris’ face turned red.

[mcharmed21]

Smiling coolly, Olivia said, “Since Leo wasn’t my whitelighter at the time of his suspension, I guess that means that you’re . . . not my whitelighter. Hasn’t anyone told you?”<br>
His blue eyes clouded with confusion, Chris shook his head. “The Halliwells and your brothers had never said anything about . . .” He broke off under Olivia’s intense stare.

“So, you’ve met the rest of them.”<br>
Chris opened his mouth . . . and then shut it. Another moment passed before he finally answered, “Yeah. Um, earlier this evening.”<br>
“Really?”<br>
“Yes, and about me not being your whitelighter . . . you have to understand. There has been . . .”<br>
Olivia interrupted him. “Let’s get something straight, shall we Chris? One, my official relationship with Leo had ended while I was in college, twelve years ago. We’ve been friends since . . . well, until he and Paul Margolin had set me up to kill Cole nearly two weeks ago.” Olivia took a step closer toward the young whitelighter. Who took a step back. “As far as I’m concerned, the Whitelighter Council can go to hell. As long as you remember that, we can get along. Okay?”<br>
A slack-jawed Chris stared at her in shock. “Uh . . . yeah.”<br>
“Good.” Olivia paused, reluctant to ask the next question, but her curiosity got the best of her. “So, what exactly happened to Leo?”<br>
“He was re-assigned,” Chris explained. “To the Realm’s Sorting Department. He’ll be . . .” The whitelighter glanced up. Olivia knew what that meant. A summons from the Elders Council. “Uh, I’ve got to . . .”<br>
Olivia sighed. “I understand. Nice meeting you, Chris.”<br>
The whitelighter shot her an uneasy glance. “Yeah. Nice meeting you, too.” He orbed out of the apartment. Olivia continued to stare at the now empty spot. What was it about Chris that seemed so familiar to her?

* * * *



Piper glanced at the grandfather clock. It read six minutes after ten. She frowned. Leo had informed her that he would be home at least by eight. He was now two hours and seven . . . eight minutes late. Exactly how many charges did he and Chris visit?"

"Piper, will you please stop staring at that clock?" Phoebe demanded.

The oldest Charmed One heaved a sigh. "I can't help it. Leo was supposed to be home by now. His dinner is getting cold."

"Well, he's a whitelighter, Piper. Since when has Leo ever kept a regular schedule?" Phoebe returned her attention to the magazine in her hand.

Staring at her younger sister, Piper realized that something seemed amiss. "Wait a minute! You're home!"

"So?"

"Didn't you go over to Cole's place?"

"Yeah, I did. He's busy." Phoebe turned a page. "Working on a case. We talked a little about Chris . . . then he asked me to leave." She turned another page.

Piper frowned. That did not sound like the old Cole Turner, who would have dropped everything at the crook of Phoebe's finger. Times certainly have changed. Her husband orbed into the living room, before she could comment. One glance at Leo's expression told Piper that he was troubled. "Leo? Are you okay?"

"Uh . . ." The whitelighter regarded the two Halliwells with dazed eyes. "There's . . ." He glanced around. "Where's Paige?"

Piper cried out her youngest sister's name. A minute later, Paige emerged from the Sun Room. "I'm in the middle of a good movie. This had better be good."

Leo took a deep breath. "I have some bad news. There's been . . . well, there's been a murder."

Phoebe frowned. "A potential whitelighter?"

"Worse." Leo paused. "An Elder."

The news took the Charmed Ones by surprise. "What?" Piper exclaimed. "How is that possible?" The whitelighter explained that Elder Sylvester Monroe had been killed by an unknown person with a darklighter's arrow. Piper added, "What was he doing here on Earth?"

"He had been killed up there," Leo corrected. "In the Realm. I just . . . I can't imagine who would want an Elder killed."

[mcharmed21]

Phoebe immediately replied, "A demon, for one. Or how about the Titans?"

"Phoebe, we had managed to deal with the Titan problem last spring. Remember?" Leo heaved a sigh. "Thanks to Chris and a few deities we had summoned."

Speaking of their new whitelighter . . . "Where exactly is Chris?" Piper demanded. "Shouldn't he be telling us this news, himself?"

"Piper! There's been a murder in the Whitelighter Realm, and all you can do is be concerned about him?"

Rolling her eyes, Piper muttered, "I never said I was concerned about him. Sheesh!" Then an idea came to her. "If this Elder Sylvester was killed up there, then a demon couldn't have possibly killed him."

"Unless he or she had stolen whitelighter powers," Phoebe said. "Like that warlock, over two years ago. Other than that, no demon is powerful enough to orb up to the Realm."

Piper realized that she might be risking Phoebe's wrath with her next statement. But someone had to say it. "What about Cole?" she quietly asked. "I mean . . . he's probably more powerful than any other magical being right now. At least more powerful than the Source used to be. Or an Elder."

As expected, Phoebe angrily rounded on her sister. "Are you saying that Cole did it? Is that it, Piper?"

"I didn't say that he had done it!" Piper lowered her voice. "I was simply contemplating if he was capable of going to the Whitelighter Realm all on his own."

"And killing an Elder." Phoebe's anger continued to simmer. "Why now, Piper? It's been a year since he came back from the Wasteland!"

Oh God! Piper bit back a sigh. She had forgotten how much a drama queen Phoebe could be. "Okay Pheebs! Take it easy. It was just a suggestion."

Paige added, "I have one." Everyone stared at her. "Maybe the Elder had been killed by another whitelighter. Like Mathilda, for instance."

Leo immediately came to his former superior's defense. "No way! Not Mathilda! She would never . . . C'mon! Mathilda? Killing a whitelighter? Why?"

"I don't Leo," Paige sarcastically replied. "Maybe she was pissed for being kicked off the Council. After her little plan to get rid of Cole had failed."

Phoebe nodded her head. "I can buy that."

"So can I," Piper added. Oddly enough, she could. She had never said a word to Leo, but she had been appalled by his participation in the attempt on Cole's life. It was one thing if the half-demon had genuinely posed an immediate threat to innocents. But there had been no immediate threat. Except from Mathilda, Paul Margolin, and sadly . . . Leo. Even worse, Leo and Paul had used Olivia McNeill in the worst possible way - against her will.

Leo stared at his wife in horror. "Piper!"

"What?"

"How can you . . .?" The whitelighter took a deep breath. "Whitelighters don't kill!"

Phoebe snorted with derision. "And do they plot with witches to commit cold-blooded murder? And what about Nina Kriegler? You know, the @#%$ that had hired a telepath to screw around with my head? Wasn't she a former whitelighter?"

Piper realized that Phoebe had a point. And like her sisters, she gave Leo a challenging stare. Before he could respond, his head cocked upward. A summons from the Elders. "I have to leave,” Leo finally said. He orbed out of the living room.

A sigh left Piper's mouth. As usual, her husband had disappeared on her again, thanks to the mighty Elders. Hopefully, this would be the last time - at least while Leo's suspension remained in effect.

* * * *



Nearly every whitelighter available had gathered in the Realm’s great hall, for the big meeting. Leo noticed Chris standing several feet away from him. His attention became distracted by the appearance of Elder MacKenzie, who strode toward the podium.

“I have several announcements to make,” the Elder declared. First, he announced Elder Sylvester’s death. No one seemed surprised by the announcement. News of the Elder’s murder had spread quickly among the whitelighters. “I can assure you that the party responsible will be discovered and swiftly punished,” Elder MacKenzie added.

Low murmurs filled the vast hall. Leo had a good suspicion of what his colleagues were thinking. The warlock who had infiltrated the Realm over two years ago.

MacKenzie continued, “Meanwhile, I would also like to announce two new members to the Council.” Two? Leo along with several other whitelighters frowned. What did Elder MacKenzie mean by . . .? Then he remembered. Not only did they have to replace Sylvester, but Mathilda, as well. Two robed figures appeared next to the Elder. “Our first new member of the Council will be Serafina Villabos.” The shorter newcomer removed a hood, revealing a handsome, bronze-skinned woman with thick black hair. “She has been willing to replace Elder Sylvester at such a short notice.

“Our other new Elder had been accepted by the Council sometime earlier,” MacKenzie added. The second figure pulled back a hood, revealing a man of medium height, with violet eyes peering from a thin, sharp pale face. Leo blinked. Why did this new Elder seem familiar? “I would like to introduce you to Elder Johann Bauer, who has replaced Mathilda Everard. Please welcome both of our new members.”<br>
The audience broke into an applause. Including Leo. Yet, he continued to stare at the newly initiated Elder Bauer, wondering why the name and the face seemed familiar. He glanced at Chris, whose eyes seemed to regard the Great Hall with awe. Odd, for an allegedly experienced whitelighter.

Once the applause died down, MacKenzie continued, “I hope that you will all serve our new Council members with the same respect that you do toward the rest of the oth . . .” He broke off, as a whitelighter appeared and rushed toward him. The newcomer whispered something into the Elder’s ear, causing the latter’s face to turn white.

A brown-skinned whitelighter named Chauncey whispered in Leo’s ear. “I wonder what that’s all about.”<br>
“Doesn’t sound good,” Leo whispered back.

Sure enough, a shaken Elder MacKenzie faced the crowd. “I have some disturbing news. The bodies of Elder Godfrey Davis and Elder Isak Kulle have been discovered outside the Council’s chambers.” He paused, as if to collect himself. “Killed by darklighter’s arrows.”<br>

[mcharmed21]

CHAPTER 5 -


A brown folder fell upon Darryl's desk. The police lieutenant glanced up at the man who had tossed it. "What's this?" he asked.

Marcus Anderson, the slender, sandy-haired man who served as the fifth member of Darryl's team, sat down on the chair next to his boss' desk. "File on a possible suspect in the Kostopulos murder. And maybe the Liederhoff case, as well. Check out the photo inside. Matches the description your Miss Newman gave on the perp she had ID yesterday."

"Her name is Miss Newhan," Darryl retorted. "And she's not mine." He picked up the file and opened it. His eyes scanned the material inside. "Huh. Gerry Gallagher. Name sounds familiar."

The other man said, "Remember the Cesar Aviles case, two years ago?"

Darryl nodded. "Pawnbroker on Franklin, who had been robbed and murdered. There was a suspect . . ." He paused. "This dude here? Gallagher?"

"The very one," Marcus replied. "Aviles' thirteen year-old daughter claimed she had spotted Gallagher at the crime scene, but the son-of-a-@#%$ had an alibi. And Miss Aviles was never really sure it was him. Which means that the Aviles case is still . . ."

". . . unsolved." Darryl sighed. "Why don't you and Scott pick up Miss Newhan? You'll probably find her somewhere around Union Square."

Marcus shot back, "Actually, she's here at the station. Olivia took her to Dave's Café for something to eat."

"And Olivia is back." The two men glanced at the doorway and saw the redhead stride into the squad room. "What's up?"

Darryl tapped the file in front of him. "Marcus may have found the perp who matches Grace . . . uh, Miss Newhan's description of the man who killed Kostopulos. Where is she, by the way?"

"Ladies' room."

The two men groaned. "Jesus, Olivia!" Darryl protested. "Couldn't you have shown some consideration for the other women on this floor?"

"She's using the restroom on the first floor!" Olivia retorted. "Besides, she's managed to clean up a . . ." She broke off, as the person in question entered the squad room.

Olivia had been right about the homeless woman. Darryl could not help but marvel at the lack of odor emitting from Grace. Or the lack of grime on her thin face and clothes. And the latter seemed as if they had been purchased at the nearest Goodwill store.

Darryl stared at Olivia, who shrugged. "I thought that Grace could use some cash and new clothes. And a place to live, where she could wash up and sleep. So, I made a few calls at the local Social Services office, yesterday."

"I'm staying at a hotel on Union Square," Grace added proudly. "And I've got a job."

Darryl frowned. "Within a day?"

"I found Grace a job serving food at a local café," Olivia said. "So . . . um, about this so-called perp?"

Marveling at his partner's generosity, Darryl suggested that Grace sit down in the chair now occupied by Marcus. The sandy-haired detective stood up, allowing the no-longer homeless woman to sit in the chair. "Okay Grace," Darryl continued, as he pulled out a tape recorder.

"What's with the tape recorder?" Olivia asked.

Darryl sighed. "Thanks to your generosity toward Grace," he said, "any defense lawyer could accuse us granting Grace a few favors, in exchange for her testimony."

A sheepish expression appeared on Olivia's face. "Oh. Sorry."

"But I'm not doing this because Inspector McNeill got me a job!" Grace protested.

"Yes Grace, we all know that. But no one else does. And I'm just taking extra precautions. Okay? Now, let's begin." Darryl pushed the REC button. "I'm going to show you a picture, Grace." He handed her a photograph of Gallagher. "You recognize this man?"

Grace stared at the photograph, before she cried out, "Oh my God! That's him! That's the guy who killed Mr. Kostopulos!"

"Are you sure?" Olivia asked.

"Of course I am! Look, I may be . . . I mean, maybe I was homeless at the time, but I'm sure as hell not blind! Then or now!" Darryl and Olivia exchanged triumphant looks. Grace added, "When the guy had raised his arm to shoot Mr. Kostopulos, I saw a tattoo on the outside of his wrist. I don't know what kind of tattoo, but I saw something."

Darryl read the physical description of Gallagher. He smiled. "She's right about the tattoo. Gerry Gallagher has one of a hornet on the outside of his right wrist." He slammed the file shut and said to Olivia, "Send out an APB on Gerald Gallagher. I'm sure McPherson will approve it." The redhead nodded and reached for the telephone on her desk. Darryl returned his attention to their visitor. "And Grace, thanks. You've been a great help."

Grace beamed happily. For the first time, Darryl realized that she was not a bad-looking woman. If one could overlook the missing teeth.

* * * *




Unbeknownst to passing pedestrians on the Rue Estienne in Paris, several blue lights appeared before they converge into the form of a forty year-old woman with red hair pinned into a chignon and hazel brown eyes. Madeline Pivet glanced around and rang the doorbell.

Two minutes passed before the door opened. An elderly woman with dark, intense eyes opened the door. "Elder Pivet!" Jeanne d'Arcy cried out with pleasure. Speaking in French, she continued, "I was wondering if you would arrive."

Madeline replied, "Yes, well the Council had some last minute business to discuss. But," she beamed happily, "here I am. I could not pass up a chance for my regular visit to my favorite charge."

"Your former charge," Jeanne corrected. "But come in!" The elderly woman swung the door wide open, allowing her former whitelighter to enter the house. The two women exchanged a brief embrace, before they headed for the elderly witch's sitting room. While the Elder sat down on the sofa, Jeanne headed toward an antique sideboard. "I have just finished preparing some of your favorite tea. Cammoline, isn't it?"

[mcharmed21]

The Elder smiled. "Ah, Jeanne! You do know how to warm a whitelighter's heart. Cammiline tea sounds wonderful." A sigh left her mouth. "More than you can imagine. The past week or two has been very trying."

"Trying?" Jeanne set about preparing a cup of tea for her guest. "What do you mean, Madame Pivet? What has been going on?"

Again, Madeline sighed. "Death. New Council members and a lost opportunity."

"Pardon?"

Madeline's first instinct was to keep all matters pertaining to the Whitelighters Realm a secret - as protocol demanded. But the pressure of the latest crisis led the Elder to reveal everything. She told the elderly witch about the Council's fears surrounding the relationship between the American McNeill witch and Belthazor, the growing number of whitelighters rejecting the Council's authority, Mathilda Everard's failed plot against Belthazor and her subsequent dismissal from the Council. And about the latest deaths in the Realm.

"When the Charmed Ones had finally vanquished the Source and his Council over a year ago, we had believed that sooner or later, all evil would eventually vanquish. And the supernatural world would no longer be under the threat of the Underworld's evil." Something akin to a snort left Madeline's mouth. "One of our whitelighters thought otherwise. She had told the Councl that the Source's demise would upset the balance of good and evil in our universe."

Jeanne frowned. "But I thought the Charmed Ones had killed the Source, because he was trying to kill them?"

"Oh yes." Madeline allowed herself a small chuckle. "The prophecy." Jeanne handed her a cup of tea. "If you only knew the truth, Jeanne. If you only knew the truth." She took a sip.

Jeanne wiped her hands on her apron. "What truth?" Madeline opened her mouth to speak, when the telephone rang. "Pardon, Madame," and the witch left the room.

Madeline continued to drink her tea. It was not long before she began to feel slightly groggy. In an attempt to remain conscious, she rolled her eyes. It did not work. Not only did she become increasingly groggy, but her sight began to fade.

"Jeanne? Jeanne!" Panic-stricken, the Elder cried out for her former charge.

The elderly woman rushed back into the sitting room. "Is there something wrong, Madame?"

Madeline struggled to bring Jeanne's wizened face into focus. "Wha . . . what did you put into this tea?"

"Tea?" Jeanne's dark eyes widened. Or so it seemed to Madeline.

"The tea! Yes! What did you . . .?" Madeline found herself feeling slightly breathless. "Mon dieu! What is happening?" To the Elder's horror, Jeanne suddenly transformed into a familiar dark-haired woman with a sneer stamped on her face. "Belinda? Wha . . . Why are you impersonating as . . . Mon dieu! You're a . . ."

A slow, sinister smile spread across Belinda's face. "I'm a darklighter, Elder Pivet. I've been impersonating as a whitelighter for the past four years."

"But . . . how . . .?" Pain suddenly gripped Madeline's chest.

Belinda continued, "That's my little secret. Meanwhile, I should warn you that I had put poison from a darklighter's arrow in your tea." Her smile widened. "I hope you enjoyed it."

Struggling to maintain her breath, Madeline demanded, "Where's . . . Jeanne?"

"Don't worry." Belinda glanced at her wristwatch. "You'll soon be joining her." Madeline gasped. "Oh, and Mathilda sends her regard."

Mathilda? At that moment, a pain-filled Madeline realized that her former colleague had been behind the deaths of the other Elders. "Oh . . . dear God! Oh!" She gasped, as a jolt of pain twisted inside her.

Belinda's smile grew wider. "Oooh! Poor thing. That must hurt." Again, she glanced at her watch. "Hmmm. Time to check out. Oh well. Adieu, Madame Pivet. Can't say that it was nice knowing you." The whitelighter/darklighter disappeared just before Madeline drew her last breath.

* * * *




The news of Elder Madeline Pivet sent the whitelighter community into a state of shock. In a short space of time, four Elders had been systematically murdered. There were many, including Leo, who wondered if the killings would stop with the Council.

In the end, Leo realized that only the Elders were being targeted. If it had been a matter of wiping out all of the whitelighters, there would have been reports of his colleagues being killed by darklighters on Earth. So far, only poor Elder Pivet had been killed among the mortals. Which led Leo to wonder if someone in the Whitelighter Realm was responsible.

Not long after Elder Pivet's death, Leo discovered that the Elders Council had a suspect in the killings. He entered Ludmilla Kremilov's office, bearing several parchments. "Here are the latest candidates for . . ."

"We have a suspect," the pale, and thin-faced Ludmilla announced to her subordinate.

Leo frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"A suspect. The Council now knows . . . or has a good idea on who is behind the murders of our Elders." She regarded the other whiteligher with triumphant eyes. "I must say that I'm not surprised. I knew it was her! Only she would be so bold."

"She?"

Ludmilla rolled her eyes. "Yes! Of course, she! I mean . . . her! Natalia Stepanova."

The name took Leo by surprise. "Natalia Stepan . . . Not Mathilda?"

"What?"

"Mathilda Everard," Leo repeated. "The Elder who had been recently dismissed from the Council. She's the reason why I'm working here."

The older whitelighter dismissed Leo's suggestion with a wave of her hand. "Of course not Mathilda. Yes, the Council had originally suspected her, but she has an alibi. Besides, one of the new Elders - Elder Johann Bauer - had discovered that Miss Stepanova was missing from the Realm around the time of Elder Pivet's death." A malicious gleam lit up Ludmilla's eyes. "The Council also discovered that Natalia is behind a movement to depose the current members of the Council. And replace them with new members."

[mcharmed21]

"I . . . I don't believe it!" Leo protested. "Whitelighters against whitelighters? A civil war within the Realm?"

Ludmilla crowed, "A civil war that will soon be nipped in the bud. When Natalia is captured. Hopefully, that will happen in the immediate future.

Leo certainly hoped so.

* * * *




A lone figure burst into the circular Council chambers of the Order of Gimle. The leader, a 646 year-old demon named Rannveig glared at the intruder. "Emnick!" she exclaimed. "What is the meaning of this disruption?"

"Pardon Chairman Rannveig," the young demon said between deep breaths, "but you have a visitor."

"Visitor?" Rannveig, along with Marbus and the other Gimle Council members, stared at Emnick. "Who is he? Or she?"

Emnick's next words took the Council by surprise. "She's . . . a whitelighter. And she's requesting sanctuary."

While the other members burst into surprised chatter, Marbus silently contemplated Emnick's news. A whitelighter asking a demonic order for sanctuary? Who had ever heard of such a thing?

Rannveig ordered, "Send in the whitelighter."

A few minutes later, Emnick returned to the chamber with the refugee in tow. Marbus nearly shot out of his seat at the sight of the familiar figure in a whitelighter's robe. "Bloody hell!" he cried. "Natalia Stepanova?"

"Marbus!" The Russian-born whitelighter rushed toward the Council's semi-circular table. "Marbus, I need your help! Desperately!"

Rannveig frowned. "Emnick told us that you are seeking sanctuary?"

"Yes, I . . . The Elders Council believes that I am responsible for the recent murders of four of their colleagues. Also, they know about the faction led by Barbara DeVilliers and myself."

"Faction?"

The whitelighter informed the Gimle Council about her faction's fear that the Elders have lost their way. "For the past four or five centuries, they have become obsessed with destroying the Source's Realm. More so than simply offering spiritual guidance to mortals at large, including some witches. This obsession . . . has led to the creation of a prophecy that a trio of witches would eventually destroy the Source."

"The Charmed Ones," Marbus added.

Natalia nodded. "Precisely. This prophecy had sent the Source into a state of paranoia that finally drove him to go after the Charmed Ones. And to make sure that the witches were prepared to kill him, the Elders developed the Warren line so that the Power of Three would exist."

Most of the members of the Gimle Council reacted with shock from Natalia's revelation. But not Marbus. Ever since his confrontation with Lucia Miller, one of Melinda Warren's descendants, he had been suspicious about the Warren line. A fellow council member named Ladira exclaimed, "Are you saying that the Elders had deliberately interfered with the Warren line in order to create the Power of Three?"

"Yes," Natalia calmly replied. "The Elders had made sure that a middling witch named Charlotte Warren would conceive a powerful daughter with a powerful sorcerer named Phillip Lacey. Apparently, they had manipulated a meeting between Charlotte and Lacey somewhere in Colonial Virginia. A few days after Melinda's conception, Lacey had mysteriously disappeared. When Charlotte gave birth to Melinda Warren, the Source's Oracle experienced a vision of his death at the hands of Melinda's descendants.

"Some of us in the Whitelighter Realm had been appalled by this revelation. And when the Elders had decided to reward the Charmed Ones for killing the Source - even at the expense of Belthazor, who had been a victim of demonic possession - we could not condone the Elders' actions any further. Our faction has been growing ever since. We had also feared that the destruction of the Source's Council would upset the balance in the supernatural universe. Something that had not really concerned the Elders."

Shaken by the news that his nephew had been a pawn of the whitelighters, Marbus asked in a gruff voice, "And it's because of this faction that you're being considered as the main suspect behind the killings?"

"Yes."

Another Gimle Council member asked, "Who do you believe is behind the attacks on your Council?"

The whitelighter hesitated. "The only person I can think of is Mathilda Everard." Marbus bridled at the mention of the ex-Elder's name. Natalia continued, "She had recently been ousted from the Council for her plot to kill Belthazor without their consent."

"Yes, we've heard about that," Rannveig said, shooting a quick glance at Marbus. The latter remained silent.

"And there is also Gideon Elliot," Natalia continued. "He is the headmaster of our school for young witches. Like Mathilda, he is a fanatic for the . . . cause. Of course, he keeps these views to himself. And he has been pre-occupied with his school. Mathilda, on the other hand . . ."

Rannveig shook her head. "I simply find it difficult that a whitelighter would scheme to kill others."

"I don't," Marbus coolly replied. "Considering what that Everard whitelighter had plotted to have my nephew killed, and what Natalia has told us about the Elders and the Source . . . I have no trouble at all."

The older demon sighed. "All right. We will grant you sanctuary, Miss Stepanova. But not here. If you can orb here, so can other whitelighters . . . accompanied by witches to attack us. We need to find you a place where the Elders and their charges cannot track you."

A grim Marbus nodded. "Don't worry. I know the very place where she can hide. And the right person to protect her."



END OF CHAPTER 5

[mcharmed21]

Two unmarked police cars converged upon an apartment building near Clement and 29th Street. Darryl and Olivia climbed out of one car. The remaining members of their squad climbed out of the other.

"Why are we all here?" Marcus Anderson demanded. "All for one suspect?"

Darryl removed his jacket and tossed it back into the car. Then he checked his pistol. "Because this particular suspect happens to have known accomplices. Everyone ready?" The others nodded. Darryl then gave his squad instructions on how to approach Gallagher's apartment building. Seconds later, the five police officers started after their prey.

Both Darryl and Olivia entered the building through the front door. An elevator conveyed them to the building's fourth floor - the location of Gerry Gallagher's apartment. After the pair approached the apartment door, Darryl knocked. For a brief moment, no one answered. Then he knocked again. A voluptuous blond woman opened the door.

"Yes?" she answered nervously. Her eyes conveyed anxiety.

Darryl smiled and flashed his badge. "Lieutenant Morris of the San Francisco Police. Does Gerry Gallagher live here?"

The woman blinked. Several times. "No. Uh, . . . why don't you come in?"

Strange. Darryl frowned, as he and Olivia began to enter the apartment. Why would she . . .?

"Gallagher!" Olivia's voice boomed in the hallway. She turned to Darryl. "He left through another door!" She raced back into the hallway. A gunshot ricocheted not far from her head.

Darryl turned to the woman. "You stay here!" The he followed his partner. "Suspect is heading toward the east staircase! And he is armed and dangerous!" he barked into his walkie-talkie. "Carmen! Scott! Head for the building's entrance! Marcus! Block the back entrance!"

He continued to follow both Olivia and Gallagher down the staircase. By the time Darryl had reached the fifth floor, he paused before a window, climbed out and landed on the fire escape. Then he quickly made his way down the latter, and to the alley below. Seconds later, he heard Olivia's voice crackle on the walkie-talkie, "Suspect has broke off and is using the south fire escape to reach the alley on the building's west side!"

Sure enough, Darryl spotted Gallagher drop to the alley a few yards in front of him. The police lieutenant withdrew his pistol and pointed it at the suspect. "Gallagher! Hold it right there!" Gallagher froze. "Get your hands up! Slowly!"

As ordered, Gallagher raised his hands in the air, revealing a revolver in his hands. "Drop the gun!" Olivia cried. She had appeared on the scene, after following the robber on the fire escape. Gallagher allowed the gun to slip from his fingers and drop to the ground. She kept her pistol aimed at Gallagher, while Darryl cuffed him. "So, how did you know?"

"Know what?" Darryl replied.

Olivia shot him a dark look. "You know what! How did you know that he would use the fire escape?"

After he finished cuffing Gallagher, Darryl said, "What can I say? Police instinct. Well . . . I figured that if I were him, I would use the fire escape to avoid the front and back of the building."

"Hmmmm." Olivia lowered her gun, as Darryl forced Gallagher to sit on the ground. "Clever." While she talked to the other squad members on the walkie-talkie, Darryl read the Miranda rights to their suspect.

* * * *





Cole and his uncle stepped inside a local restaurant in the San Francisco downtown area. "Very nice place," the older demon declared. "What's the name again?"

"The Tadich Grill," Cole replied. "I'm surprised that you've never heard of it. This restaurant is practically a local institution. When I had first started coming here, it had already been opened for at least sixty years."

The maitre'd led the two men to a nearby booth. After they had sat down, a waiter appeared and asked if they would like to order drinks. Cole ordered his favorite - a Gibson. Marbus asked for a Scotch, neat.

When the waiter left, Marbus added, "Strange, I've never been here. But then, I'm not that familiar with San Francisco."

"Not even when my parents were married?" Cole asked.

Marbus shook his head. "Sorry lad. The first time I had clap eyes on you, Benjamin had been dead for over a year."

Cole frowned. "And yet, you're familiar with Cordelia Morton and her family." He was referring to one of San Francisco's wealthiest families.

"I usually saw them in Europe. Either in Monte Carlo or Portofino." Marbus opened his menu. "Now this sounds interesting. Pan-fried sole. What are you having?"

"I haven't decided yet," Cole murmured. He stared at his uncle. A deep suspicion glimmered in the back of his mind that this lunch was more than a friendly gathering between two kinsmen. "So . . . Marbus. Are you going to tell me why you had invited me to lunch?"

Marbus' blue eyes widened with innocence. "What do you mean?"

Cole leaned forward in a sinister manner. "Marbus."

The older demon leaned back against the cushioned seat. "Bloody hell," he murmured. "If you must know, I need your help."

"Need my help for what?" Cole demanded.

The waiter returned with their drinks and left. After taking a sip of his Scotch, Marbus continued, "I need you to give refuge to a friend of mine."

Cole frowned. "What friend?"

"I've told you about her, once." Marbus took another sip. "Natalia Stepanova. She was one of the two whitelighters who had warned me about plans to vanquish you."

Now Cole remembered. The whitelighter's name brought up memories of a warning he had received from Marbus, about the Elders' intentions to kill him. "Why does she need refuge from me?"

Marbus explained, "Your flat is the only place where she can be safe. The Elders had managed to track her to the Gimle Realm. I got her out before they could snatch her. Then they traced her to the mortal realm. She's now inside my hotel room, but I figured that you're the only person powerful enough to prevent her from being captured."

"And why in the hell are the Elders after her?" The moment Cole had asked his question, the answer came to him. "Wait a minute! Has this anything to do with the death of that Elder? Phoebe had dropped by the penthouse to tell me about it."

A grim-faced Marbus added, "Four of 'em are dead now, lad." While the two demons sipped their drinks, Marbus revealed the unfolding crisis within the Whitelighters Realm. Only one Elder had been killed on Earth, while the other three had been killed above. Marbus also told Cole about Natalia's revelation regarding the Elders, the Source and the Charmed Ones. He simply could not believe what he had just heard. By breeding a powerful sorcerer to a low-level witch, the Elders had created a powerful weapon to bring down the Source. And endangered the balance of good and evil within their universe.

"Why go through so much trouble?" he asked Marbus. "Why didn't the Elders simply ask this Phillip Lacey to kill the Source, himself?

"He didn't realize that he was being manipulated by the Elders, lad. I suspect that a whitelighter had acted as an agent on earth to ensure that he and Charlotte would meet."

Cole asked, "Does Leo and the other whitelighters know about all this? About this whole mess with the Source and the Elders?"

Marbus shook his head. "Natalia had managed to stumble across all of this in the Realm's archives, recently. And I don't think that she and Barbara DeVilliers had the opportunity to spread the word beyond their followers."

Cole sighed. "If Phoebe and her sisters ever found out about this . . ."

"Well, there's a more immediate matter to consider," Marbus said. "Like providing protection for Natalia." He peered at his nephew from behind the rim of his glass. "Would you mind?"

"Of course not. Bring her by my place, this evening. At least before seven. I'm taking Phoebe out for dinner, tonight."

One of Marbus' brows quirked upward. "Really? You and Frances have been dining out a lot, lately. Haven't you?"

"Her name is Phoebe," Cole said for the umpteenth time. "And what's the problem?"

Marbus coughed slightly. "Nothing. Never mind." He glanced around the restaurant's dining room. "Now what happened to our waiter?"

[mcharmed21]

A defiant Gallagher sat inside one of the police station's interrogation rooms, while Darryl and Scott Yi hovered over him. Olivia sat in one of the chairs, opposite the suspect. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about!" he declared. "How many @#%$ times do I have to tell you?"

"So far, you've only told us twice." Darryl leaned across the table to face the robber. "Now, I'm going to ask you one last time. What do you know about a robbery and murder at a shop on Kearny called Kostopulos's Antiquities? And about the murder of a dealer named Gregory Liederhoff, at the Powell House Hotel?"

Gallagher shouted, "Nothing! I . . . know . . . nothing!"

Darryl stared at Olivia, who merely shrugged. Scott seemed slightly amused. "So, you don't know a thing. Huh?"

"That's right!" Gallagher sneered. "Now, when are you going to let me go?"

Olivia chuckled mirthlessly. "Oh don't worry. We'll let you go. After you've been charged with robbery and murder . . . and after your attorney has arranged for your bail. And only then will we release you."

Gallagher shot out of his seat. "What the fu . . .?"

"Sit down!" Scott ordered in a harsh voice. "Now!"

Reluctantly, the suspect did as he was told. "You have nothing on me," he whined in an uneasy voice.

"Wanna bet?" Darryl shot back. "Ballistics has discovered that the bullets found in Stefan Kostopulos and Gregory Liederhoff's bodies match the bullets from your gun. The gun you were carrying, when we arrested. And what you had used to fire a shot at a police officer."

Panic filled Gallagher's eyes. "Wait a minute! I didn't know you guys were cops!"

"Oh, so you admit that the gun is yours?"

"I . . ." Gallagher immediately closed his mouth.

Someone knocked on the door. Then Carlotta poked her head inside. "Say Darryl?"

"Yeah?" the police lieutenant replied.

"Marcus and I found some interesting items inside Gallagher's apartment." Carlotta strode inside and dumped a plastic bag on the table. A triumphant smile curled her lips. "Including this."

Darryl grabbed the bag and dumped the contents upon the table. A small bundle of bills. "Well now! Look at what we've got here!" he crowed.

"That's not mine!" Gallagher protested. "You guys had planted it on me!"

Carlotta rolled her eyes. "Spare us your @#%$! Marcus and I had found it, along with other bags, hidden underneath the sofa. Items from other . . . jobs, I would assume. And we found this stuff in front of witnesses."

"Cops!" Gallagher shot back.

"Including your girlfriend?" While Gallagher's shoulders sagged with defeat, Carlotta continued. "We were able to lift prints from the bag. They match our suspect's prints, perfectly." She nodded at the cash on the table. "That should run to the amount of three thousand, seven hundred and forty-two dollars. Which is exactly what was missing from Kostopulos' cash register."

All four detectives stared at Gallagher. Darryl said, "Are you sure you don't have anything to tell us?"

"@#%$ off!"

Fighting the urge to smack the suspect on the side of the head, Darryl continued, "What if I told you that we have a witness to the Kostopulos murder?"

Again, Gallagher shot up from his seat. "Your witness is lying!"

"Sit your ass back down on that seat!" Scott barked. Glaring at the police officers, the suspect did as he was told. "Between the witness, the bullets and this evidence, Gerry," Scott continued, "you're looking at a world of @#%$! What do you have to say?"

Gallagher suddenly blurted, "It wasn't my idea to rob that place! I was hired by . . ."

"Yeah?" Olivia added.

The robber sighed. "This woman . . . she had hired me. She wanted me to do the Kostopulos job as soon as possible. But I had other plans that night, so I did . . ." He hesitated.

"You had another job and you had decided to rob Kostopulos in the daytime," Olivia finished. "What about Liederhoff?"

Gallagher nodded. "Him too. The lady wanted both men dead."

"What woman?"

"She . . ." Gallagher lowered his head. "This woman and her two flunkies had approached me. Her name was Lin Bryant." Darryl heard an intake of breath from Scott. Gallagher continued, "She's a . . ." He shot a nervous glance at the young detective. ". . . a Eurasian, who owns an auction house. Only I don't know where this place is. She had hired me to get . . ."

Darryl corrected him. "To steal."

Gallagher's face turned red. "Yeah. She wanted me to . . . steal these objects."

Olivia held up the Kostopulos photograph of the medallion. "This?"

"Yeah. Apparently, both Kostopulos and Liederhoff had one." Gallagher paused. "That's it."

"Lin Bryant." Darryl savored the name. "Where can we find her?"

Gallagher rolled his eyes. "Hey! It's like I said. I don't know where the @#%$ she is! We had met at the Golden Gate Park every time."

Darryl turned to Carlotta. "Get Marcus in here. Mr. Gallagher is going to provide us with a description of this Lin Bryant." The police woman nodded and left the room. Darryl returned his attention to Gallagher. "Right, Gerry?"

The robber merely looked away, with a morose expression stamped on his face.

[mcharmed21]

Cole stared at his selection of ties, in an effort to decide which one to wear. After five minutes of contemplation, he realized that not only was he unable to make a choice, he simply did not care. Not a proper attitude to harbor for an upcoming date, but he could not control his feelings.

He had planned to take Phoebe to the theater, followed by dinner at one of her old stomping grounds - Quake. Unfortunately, he could not drum up any enthusiasm. Not with Olivia still on his mind. And there was the new houseguest that Marbus planned to dump on him. Cole sighed. Life had been so much easier, over a month ago. Now once again, it has gone to hell.

Realizing that he was better off without a tie, Cole returned the garments to his dresser drawer. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the living room. At that moment, two figures materialized - Marbus and a handsome, dark-haired woman, whom Cole assumed to be the whitelighter fugitive.

"Belthazor," Marbus announced, "I would like you to meet Natalia Stepanova. Natalia, this is my nephew . . ."

The whitelighter held out her hand. "Yes, I have heard of Belthazor," she said in a Russian accent. "A great deal."

"And I've heard a few things about you," Cole said, shaking her offered hand. As with all whitelighters, Natalia left a white film on his hand after contact. "You were the one who had warned Marbus about the Elders' plans to kill me. I wish I had paid closer attention."

Natalia continued, "Actually, it was Mathilda who was after you, not the Council. And Barbara and I had no idea that she and Leo would use Miss McNeill to kill you."

Cole nodded. "I understand. Anyway, I hope that you will enjoy your stay, here. You can use the guest bedroom on the left. I usually have breakfast around seven in the morning and dinner around eight. If I'm not around, feel free to fix your own meals." He hesitated. "Uh, that is if you know how . . ."

"I happen to be an excellent cook, Belthazor."

"Cole."

One of Natalia's brows formed an arch. "Pardon?"

"You can call me Cole. If you like."

Natalia smiled. "Of course."

"Okay." Cole glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantle and heaved a sigh. "Uh, I have a date tonight . . ."

Natalia frowned. "A what?"

Cole patiently explained, "I will be taking a young lady to the theater this evening. And later, we'll be dining at a restaurant."

"Oh." Natalia responded with an understanding smile. "How charming. Who is the lucky young lady?"

Before Cole could answer, Marbus said, "He's taking his former wife. Frances."

Cole shot a quick glare at his uncle. "Her name is Phoebe. Why is it that after nearly two months, you still can't get her name right?"

"Sorry lad, but Phoebe is not a name I find easy to remember."

Natalia added, "Oh! One of the Charmed Ones! The seer!" A frown creased her forehead. "What happened to Miss McNeill?"

A silent pause filled the room. Cole smiled patiently at the whitelighter. "We're just friends."

"Oh. So, you're dating one of Leo's sisters-in-law." Natalia paused. "And the third sister is Samuel Wilder's daughter. Right?" Then she added, "Do you plan to . . .?"

"Tell Phoebe about you?" Cole finished. "Do you want me to?"

The whitelighter quickly shook her head. "Please . . . no. It is not that I do not trust her . . . I am simply afraid that Leo would react if he knew of my whereabouts."

Cole nodded. "I understand. Besides, Phoebe was never great at keeping secrets." Then he sighed. "Okay, the place is yours for the evening. I'll see . . ." He hesitated at the sound of Marbus' cough. "What?"

"Do I have to remind you, lad?" Marbus replied. "Natalia has already been tracked to the Gimle dimension and here on earth. I think you should provide some kind of protection, just in case the Elders have managed to track her here."

Cole sighed. He seemed to be doing that a lot, lately. "Right." As he began to prepare a protection spell to shield the penthouse from the Elders' radar, he wondered if he had made a mistake in offering refuge to the fugitive whitelighter. He could image how Phoebe would react if she ever found out.

* * * *



Paige appeared in the doorway of Phoebe's bedroom. "Cole's here," she announced.

Phoebe let out a squeak and continued to finish getting ready. A quick glance at her watch told her that she was running slightly behind schedule. As she checked her appearance in the long, oval mirror, she asked, "How's Cole doing? Is he alone?"

"Aside from Piper giving him the cold shoulder," Paige murmured, "yeah. Leo hasn't returned from the store, yet."

"Oh God." Phoebe turned away from the mirror. "How do I look?"

Paige shrugged. "Nice."

"That's it?"

Heaving an impatient sigh, Paige added, "Phoebe, you look great! Okay?"

"Okay." Phoebe grabbed her purse. "I'm ready."

Paige blocked Phoebe's path in the doorway. "Two more things, Miss Halliwell. One, you got a phone call."

"So, didn't you take a message?" Phoebe tried to bypass her younger sister.

After a brief hesitation, Paige answered, "Yeah. I did. I told Jason that you would call him back. He left a number."

"Oh." @#%$! "Yeah. Okay, I'll get back to him." Again, she tried to bypass Paige.

"Phoebe!"

The older woman gave the younger one an exasperated stare. "What?"

"You mean to say that you haven't broke up with Jason, yet?"

Oh God! Phoebe wished that Paige would mind her own business. "I'll get around to it. Soon."

"Uh huh." Shaking her head, Paige continued, "Also, I think a jacket goes with that outfit. Doesn't it?"

[mcharmed21]

"Oh yeah. Thanks." Grateful to dismiss Jason from her thoughts, Phoebe snatched up her jacket, ducked under Paige's outstretched arm and raced down the hall. Paige followed closely behind. They found Cole sitting on the sofa, looking very tense. Fortunately, neither Piper nor Leo were in sight. This did not look good. Phoebe pasted a too-bright smile on her face and warmly greeted her ex-husband. "Hey sweetie!" She leaned down and gave him a swift peck on the cheek. "Everything's okay?"

To Phoebe's surprise, Cole blinked. "Huh?"

"Cole, are you okay? Ready to leave?"

Before the half-demon could answer, blue lights appeared and Chris materialized before the others. Ignoring Cole, he turned to the two sisters. "Where's Piper?" he asked.

Piper burst into the living room, with Leo at her heels. "I'm right here," she said. "What's wrong?"

"I need your help," Chris replied. "In fact, the Elders' Council is seeking the help of all witches."

Paige added sarcastically, "Are they asking? Or ordering us?"

Chris sighed. "The Elders need your help in tracking down a fugitive. A whitelighter named Natalia Stepanova. They believe that she is somewhere here on Earth. Which is why they want our charges to help find her."

"This Stepanova person," Paige continued, "is she behind the deaths of those Elders?"

Chris nodded. "The Elders found out that . . ." He hesitated, as his eyes rested upon Cole. "Oh. Uh . . . Aren't you . . .?"

Phoebe quickly made the introductions. "Uh, Chris - this is Cole Turner, my ex-husband."

Piper added, "The demon formally known as Belthazor."

Cole shot the eldest Charmed One a dark look, while Chris stared at him. Like a scientist examining a specimen. "Oh, um . . . nice to meet you. I've heard a lot . . . about you."

"You've heard?" Cole frowned.

Smiling nervously, Phoebe interrupted. "Cole honey, this is Chris Perry, our new whitelighter."

Cole offered his hand to the young whitelighter. Chris briefly hesitated, before shaking the offered hand. "So, you're the new whitelighter. I only hope that you do a better job than your predecessors."

"Hey!" Piper protested.

Chris laughed nervously. "I just hope that I can do a good job."

One of Cole's brows formed an arch. "Good. So uh, why are the Elders after this whitelighter, again?"

"I . . . um . . ."

Leo sharply interrupted, "Sorry Cole, but this is a private matter. In other words, it's none of your business."

A cold smile curved Cole's lips as he faced Leo. Anxiety flared within Phoebe's breast. "Then I guess you shouldn't be here, as well."

"Just because you and Phoebe are now dating, doesn't mean you have every right to know what's going on in this house!"

Piper placed a hand on Leo's arm. "Honey . . . don't. He's just trying to bait you."

Cole continued, "You know, this Stepanova whitelighter sounds familiar. Didn't a witch named Keith McNeill used to be one of her charges?"

Another outburst left Leo's mouth. "Why are you still here? Why don't you just leave?"

"Well, you've already to get rid of me, Leo. When you and Margolin had set up Olivia to kill me." Cole's smile grew even more deadly. "But, as usual, you failed to achieve your goal."

"That's it! I've had enough . . ."

Cole took a threatening step forward. "And what exactly are you going to do? Bore me to death with more threats?" His face became a cold mask - an expression that Phoebe had always found frightening. "Or find another witch to do your dirty work for you? You better pray, for your sake that he or she doesn't get caught."

Piper stepped between the two former brothers-in-law. "Okay! That's it!" She glared at the half-demon. "Cole, we want you out of here! Now! We have family matters to discuss."

His eyes now cold with rage, Cole sprung to his feet. “Don’t worry Piper. I’m more than happy to oblige.” And he beamed out of the living room, much to Phoebe’s distress.

She turned on her eldest sister in a fit of anger. “Piper! How could you?”<br>
“Hey! He started it with his threats to Leo!” Piper shot back.

“Actually, it was Leo who started it!” Then Phoebe glared at her brother-in-law. “You just had to open your mouth, didn’t you, Leo? You had to say something to Cole!”<br>
Looking stunned by Phoebe’s accusation, Leo protested, “Phoebe, I’m sorry, but had no right being here! You girls have a matter to attend to. As witches.”<br>
“Matters that we’re supposed to discuss with our whitelighter . . . who happens to be Chris! You’re no longer our whitelighter! Remember?”<br>
Piper sprang to her husband’s defense. “Uh, wait a minute Pheobe! There’s no need to jump down Leo’s throat! He’s only trying to help!”<br>
“And I’m trying to get out of here, so I can go on a date!” Phoebe raised her head and called out her ex-husband’s name. “Cole? Cole!”<br>
Chris spoke up. “Look, we have a whitelighter to find. One who might be a killer.”<br>
Regarding the young whitelighter with suspicious eyes, Paige demanded, “And why are ‘we’ searching for Whatshername, anyway? Why don’t the Elders simply clip her wings or snatch her?”<br>
A shrug lifted Chris’ shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess she’s managed to elude them, after she was detected on Earth. The Elders had also briefly detected her in some demonic dimension. She’s got to be hiding, somewhere.”<br>
Paige’s dark eyes continued to bore into the young whitelighter’s. “And you don’t know where she is?”<br>
“How would I know?”<br>
Rolling her eyes, Paige continued, “Because you’re the one from the future.”<br>
A pause followed before Chris finally answered, “Well . . . yeah. But I’m just a lowly whitelighter. I don’t have knowledge of everything that happened in this time period. Besides, I only knew about the Titans destroying the Elders. The whitelighters were disorganized after that.”<br>
Paige shot back, “Yet, surely your memories of the future have changed, after the Elders had dealt with the Titans. Right? So, you must know about Natalia Stepanova. Where she’s hiding and if she’s guilty.”<br>
“I tell you, I don’t know every . . .”<br>
Phoebe held up her hand. “Look, we understand. It’s okay. But I really don’t understand how the Elders expect us to track down a missing whitelighter. And since other witches might be looking for her, there’s a little matter about my date, tonight. Your missing whitelighter will have to wait. Cole!”<br>
Frowning, Chris protested, “Phoebe, this isn’t the time . . .”<br>
“What lead do you have on this Natalia Whatshername?” Paige demanded. “Why come to us? Why not the McNeills, who have some past connections to her? And what makes the Elders think she’s the right culprit?”<br>
“Hey! I don’t know!” Chris protested angrily. “I’m just the messenger.”<br>
Phoebe added, “Well until you do know, I’m going on my . . .”<br>
Cole reappeared, looking slightly abashed. “I just remembered,” he mumbled. “Reservations at Quake are hard to get by, lately. I went through a lot of trouble, tonight, and I left my car outside.” He glanced at Phoebe. “Still interested for tonight?”<br>
Phoebe eagerly linked her arm with her ex-husband’s. “More than interested.” She ignored Piper’s look of disgust, as she and Cole walked toward the front door.

[mcharmed21]

Despite the ten months he had spent as a whitelighter and Elder, Kevin James missed the mortal world. Which surprised him very much, considering his previously unhappy life. When he had eagerly agreed to replace one of the retiring Elders, Kevin had no idea that he would spend the rest of his existence in such . . . surroundings.

To deal with his bouts of boredom, Kevin made occasional visits to the mortal realm, to indulge in his favorite pastimes. He would either visit the Halliwells – whom he had first met before becoming an Elder – or head for the place that usually appealed to his adolescent nature. Namely the various Disney theme parks throughout the world, the shopping mall, the beach and the movies. Tonight, Kevin had decided to settle upon the latter.

He had overheard two whitelighters discussing a movie called PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL. And since the topic combined two of his favorite things – movies and Disney amusement parks, he decided to check out this new movie at a theater in Sausalito.

Three hours later, Kevin emerged from the theater, a happy whitelighter. The movie had more than lived up to his expectations. Quite simply, he loved it and planned to see it as much as possible before it disappeared from the theaters altogether. Humming the movie’s jaunty score under his breath, Kevin made his way to a nearby alley, where he could orb out of sight. Upon reaching his destination, he glanced around to make sure that he was alone. And at that moment, he felt a sharp pain between his shoulder blades.

Kevin gasped aloud and reached behind to investigate the source of his pain. When he felt a shaft protruding from his back, he realized that he had been struck by a darklighter’s arrow. Kevin fell into a state of panic, as he tried to remove the arrow.

A figure appeared before. A dark-haired woman dressed in black. Kevin immediately recognized her as Belinda Lucas, one of the Realm’s whitelighters. “Yo . . . you . . .” the young Elder stammered.

“That’s right, Junior,” Belinda replied with a cold smile. She held a bow in her hands. “I shot you.”<br>
“Wha . . . what did . . .” Kevin gasped, as more pain shot through every nerve in his body. “What did . . . she promised . . . you. Na . . .”<br>
Belinda sneered. “If you’re speaking of Natalia Stepanova, you guessed wrong. She’s innocent. Besides, why should you care? You’ll be dead within a minute or so.”

Kevin fell upon his knees. “Wha . . . how can you kill . . . a fellow whitelight . . .?”<br>
Shifting the bow into one hand, Belinda reached from inside her blouse and pulled out what looked like a medallion hanging from a leather strap. “Who said that I was a whitelighter?” She let the medallion hang down, loaded the bow with another arrow, and aimed the weapon at the young Elder. “I bet you now wish that you had never accepted that offer from the Council. Don’t you?”

Kevin blinked, as the darklighter arrow spun straight toward his heart.

During the four years since Piper's departure from Quake, the restaurant had not changed much - aside from the restaurant's menu and the food's quality. Cole had never visited Quake before, but judging from Phoebe's reaction to their appetizers, apparently the food was not what it used to be under Piper's rule.

Cole reached for his glass of Cabernet Sauvignon wine and took a sip. "Maybe we should have went to another restaurant." He fell silent, expecting a reply from Phoebe. She said nothing. Cole added, "Or maybe I should have prepared dinner at home, instead. Marbus had pointed out that we've been going out to dinner a lot, lately." He chuckled slightly. "I think I may have come close to spending half of my paycheck, during the past two weeks."

Phoebe responded with a dim smile and reached for a dinner roll.

Realizing that Phoebe might still be distracted by his quarrel with Leo, Cole decided to confront the matter than pretend everything was fine. "Okay Phoebe," he muttered, "what's wrong? Other than criticizing the food here, you've barely said a word."

"Nothing's wrong," Phoebe quickly replied. "I'm fine."

Cole sighed. "Right. And that's why you're looking as if your favorite pet had died. Or you're about to flee for your life. I really can't tell which."

"Cole . . ."

"What-is-wrong, Phoebe?"

A silent moment passed before the dark-haired witch finally answered, "It's about tonight. Your little fight with Leo."

Cole cast his eyes downward, now that his suspicions had been confirmed. "I see. Look Phoebe, I'm sorry that I had lost my temper, but I'm getting sick and tired of Leo treating me like an outsider every time I show up. I realize that I have a past that would make any sane person flee for his life, but who is he to judge me, after the @#%$ he had recently pulled?"

"I understand how you feel, Cole," Phoebe said. "Really, I do. And you're right. Leo can't really look down his nose at you, anymore." She sighed, and glanced up at Cole. "But you really need to keep your temper in check."

One of Cole's brows shot upward. "I need to keep hold of my temper?"

"Okay, maybe I can be a little temperamental also," Phoebe conceded. "But Cole . . . you have to consider your powers. What if . . . what if you completely lose your temper and decide to use your powers? Who would be able to stop you?"

Cole smiled derisively. "Well, Olivia for one. I'm sure that she still have some of that potion . . ."

"Cole!"

A sigh left his mouth. "Look, I'll try to control my temper, Phoebe. I swear. But Leo has learn to do the same. And stop acting I'm plotting to murder all of you."

"I know. But . . ."

Warily, Cole stared at his ex-wife. "But what?"

Again, Phoebe hesitated. "Have you ever thought about . . . you know, stripping your powers?"

@#%$! He should have known. From the moment he and Phoebe had started dating again, Cole suspected that sooner or later, she would bring up the matter of his powers. Phoebe obviously wanted him back, but only as a mortal. And not his true self.

[mcharmed21]

"Cole?" Apprehension had crept into Phoebe's voice. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

Not mad, Cole decided. Just disappointed. He could imagine the 'I told you so' expression on Olivia's face. "No Phoebe. I'm not angry. It's just . . . considering the last two times I had lost my powers - disaster followed."

Her dark eyes now shinning brightly with hope, Phoebe leaned forward. "But those incidents were accidents!" she exclaimed. "You had lost your powers the first time, because that witch's girlfriend had thrown a power-stripping potion on you."

"Which you had left in your dresser drawer."

Phoebe ignored the dig. "And you had lost them the second time," she continued, "because Barbas had tricked you into asking Paige to strip them, so he could steal them. Cole, this time we can control the whole process. Make sure there are no unforeseen problems."

Cole wanted to shout, "Hell no!" He had no desire to re-experience the trauma of adjusting to complete humanity, again. Or feel like half a person. But he did not want to clash with Phoebe. Not again. Not after the last fifteen months of estrangement between them. And he simply could not bear to see the fear in Phoebe's eyes, whenever he lost his temper.

"All right," he finally said. "I'll do it."

A bright smile lit up Phoebe's face.

* * * *


Elder MacKenzie Grant sat inside his private chambers, as he poured over reports from various whitelighters throughout the mortal realm. So far, no one has been able to track down Natalia Stopanova - last detected in one of the demonic dimensions.

An impatient grunt escaped his mouth. How could the Russian whitelighter have escaped from their detection so quickly? And so effectively? She had first been spotted in the Gimle dimension. Before the Council could retrieve her, she had moved on to the mortals' realm- namely the San Francisco area. And that is where she had disappeared. Vanished from their radar, as the mortals would say.

MacKenzie contemplated on who or what could have shielded Stepanova from the Council's detection. He eventually came to the conclusion that she was no longer on Earth, and that she must be hiding . . .

A bell signaled the arrival of a visitor to his chambers. "Yes?" MacKenzie cried out.

A voice replied, "Johann Bauer. I have the tea that you had requested from the kitchen."

MacKenzie waved his hand, allowing the door to slide open. The newly initiated Elder entered the chamber, carrying a tray with an earthen teapot and cup. "Johann, you did not have to bring me tea. Someone from the kitchen should have sent a whitelighter. You're an Elder, now."

"Oh, I don't mind, MacKenzie," Johann replied in his soft, Austrian accent. "Besides, I had sent the whitelighter on an errand for me."

Smiling, MacKenzie said to his colleague, "Well, you can place the tray on my desk. If you don't mind."

After Johann had did as he was asked, he stared at the senior Elder. "Is there anything else you need, El . . . MacKenzie?" The other Elder shook his head. Johann continued to stare. "Are you feeling well? You seem a bit exhausted. Perhaps you should drink your tea, now."

"Oh, I'm fine, Johann." MacKenzie sighed and picked up the teapot. "Just a little shaken by the latest events."

Johann nodded. "I understand. I'm . . . a little overwhelmed, myself. Especially after I had joined the Council." He paused. "I'm curious. Why did the Council select me to replace Elder Sylvester?"

MacKenzie stared at him, recalling the anonymous warning that the Council had received about Mathilda's plans regarding Belthazor. The Council knew that Johann had been one of the former Elder's protégées, and immediately guess who had been the informant. MacKenzie opened his mouth to reveal all of this . . . but instead replied, "The Council simply believed you would make an excellent Elder. Despite being a whitelighter for only five years."

The Austrian blinked. "Oh. Well . . . enjoy your tea."

Smiling at the junior whitelighter, MacKenzie poured tea into his cup. He then took a sip. Not bad. "I must commend Jodhi on her brewing."

"Oh, Jodhi did not make the tea. I did." MacKenzie stared at Johann, who added, "I knew that it was time for your tea and prepared a pot, instead."

Curious, MacKenzie asked, "Why?"

A wide, sinister smile curved Johann's lips, raising the hackles on the back of MacKenzie's neck. "So I could add poison from a darklighter's arrow into your tea." His smile widened. "And watch you slowly die."

* * * *



Johann strode into Artemus' spacious library and bowed before the demonic CEO. "Your Eminence. I have some news."

The demon cast a wary eye at the darklighter. "I do believe you're being a little premature in calling me 'eminence'. I'm not the Source, yet."

"But once the Whitelighters Council is destroyed and you have assumed control of the . . ."

Artemus interrupted, "That particular incident will not make me the Seer, Johann. Only the Grimoire can make me the Source. Or Belthazor's powers. And I doubt that he will be in the mood to hand them over. However, the idea of the Elders Council's destruction is rather appealing. It will also impress certain circles in various demonic dimensions and give me a little extra power." He paused. "You were saying something about . . . news?"

Johann nodded. "Yes. Two other Elders have been dispatched. One of them was," the Austrian whitelighter smiled, "Elder MacKenzie Grant." Artemus frowned. "He was one of the senior Elders, who had served on the Council for nearly 500 years, and has been a whitelighter even longer."

[mcharmed21]

"Well, I'm sure that his colleagues will mourn him." Aretemus picked up a file from his desk. "And who will replace this MacKenzie?"

Johann shook his head. "The bodies of both MacKenzie and young Kevin have not been discovered yet. And the Council has not been able to replace the last three Elders."

"When the Elders finally decides to re-organize, you suggest that Mathilda be accepted back on the Council." Aretemus opened the file.

Frowning, Johann asked, "Why? She's the only veteran whitelighter who is finally out of the way."

Aretemus glanced up and stared at the darklighter. Who squirmed under his master's direct stare. "I do not want Mathilda out of the way. I want her dead. I want the Council destroyed. And since Mathilda is a veteran, she is the only one capable of re-organizing the Council." Artemus leaned forward. "I want Mathilda back on that Council, when you, Belinda and the others finally attack. Mathilda may be an arrogant @#%$, but she is also a wily one. She is going to make sure that she has company, while these attacks are going on. That way, no one will connect the murders to her. But once she is back on the Council, her guard will drop. And that is when you will kill her. Understand?"

The intensity of Artemus' eyes caused Johann to shiver. "Yes Artemus. I understand perfectly."

* * * *



Phoebe descended the manor's staircase, her mouth stretched into a yawn. Expecting her family inside the kitchen for breakfast, she was surprised to find them gathered in the living room. Along with Chris. Everyone wore a tense expression - except for Chris, who looked grim. "What's going on?" she demanded, as she settled in one of the chairs.

Piper rocked Wyatt in her arms. "Apparently Chris has some bad news." She stared at the young whitelighter. "Which he has yet to tell us."

Chris hesitated. "Two more Elders have been killed." The Halliwells gasped with surprise. Leo looked as if his world was falling apart. "One back in the Whitelighter Realm and one here on Earth."

"Oh my God!" Leo exclaimed. "Natalia! Why haven't . . .? I mean, how was she able to kill an Elder in the Realm, when she was last reported on Earth?"

Shooting the older whitelighter a contemptuous look, Chris retorted, "First of all, Miss Stepanova is only a suspect. No one knows for certain that she's behind this. And if she was, she probably used her followers to commit . . . uh, to kill the Elders." Chris paused. "Just as Mathilda had used you to get rid of Belthazor."

"Okay! Just a damn minute!" Piper began angrily. She seemed upset at Chris' potshot at her husband. "Leo had made a mistake. There's no need to rub in his face."

"Sorry," Chris muttered. Yet, Phoebe noticed that his expression remained unrepentant.

Leo asked, "Who had been killed?"

"Elder MacKenzie Grant," Chris replied. "Someone had added poison from a darklighter's arrow to his tea."

Paige added, "Just like that Elder who was killed in Paris."

Leo seemed shocked by the identity of the victim. "My God! Elder MacKenzie? He, Sylvester and Mathilda were the premiere Elders on the Council. MacKenzie had been around for nearly 600 years. Who was the other Elder?"

Chris answered, "He was a younger Council member. From the ticket that was found in his pocket, he must have just left a movie theater in Sausalito, when someone with a darklighter's weapon . . ."

"What is his name?"

Glaring at the other whitelighter, Chris mumbled a name. "Who?" Phoebe demanded.

"Kevin James," Chris said in a louder voice.

The name produced gasps from the Charmed Ones. "No!" Phoebe cried. "He can't be dead!"

Chris added, "The police had found his body in some alley, earlier this morning. The Council sent a whitelighter to claim his body."

"Oh my God! Kevin!" Paige shook her head in disbelief. "He was just a boy! Only thirteen."

"He was an Elder."

Frowning, Leo said, "That means there are only two original members of the Council left. Two out of seven."

"Two out of four," Chris corrected. "The Council haven't replaced Elders Pivet, Davis and Kulle. They now have five members to replace."

Leo's blue eyes grew wide with shock. "There are only four members on the Council? With two of them newcomers?"

Still grief-stricken over the news of Kevin's death, Phoebe said, "We have to help. We have to find out who's responsible for killing Kevin."

"And the other Elders," Leo added.

Piper said, "Then we should find this Natalia Stepanova. After all, she's the number one suspect."

"What about a warlock?" Phoebe asked. "Or a demon? Don't forget about that warlock who had managed to enter the Whitelighters Realm."

Chris shook his head. "Yeah, I heard about that. No whitelighters - other than the Elders - have been reported dead for quite a while. At least not during the last four months I've been here."

An uneasy expression appeared on Piper's face. "That would mean a whitelighter is responsible for the deaths," she said.

Leo nodded. "Natalia Stepanova."

"My bet is that your old buddy, Mathilda is responsible," Paige countered.

As Leo opened his mouth to retort, Phoebe added, "I agree. C'mon Leo! You have to admit that she has the best motive. The Elders had kicked her off the Council."

"I have an idea," Piper said. "Why don't we check the area where Kevin's body was found? Maybe we can find a clue. Or Pheebs could get a vi. . .?"

Phoebe interrupted, "Uh, don't forget that Paige and I have jobs. Maybe we can do this on our lunch breaks." She turned to Chris. "Where was Kevin found?"

"Near a movie theater in Sausalito," the young whitelighter answered. "I'll meet you here at the house and orb you to the spot."

Piper snapped, "Just tell us where to go." Chris remained silent. She heaved an impatient sigh. "All right. I guess we can all meet here around noon. Okay?"

Everyone else nodded in agreement.


END OF CHAPTER 8

[mcharmed21]

CHAPTER 9 -


Natalia stared at the wastebasket in one corner of Beltha . . . Cole's kitchen. It seemed dangerous close to being filled up.

"I'll try to be home at least by five o'clock," Cole said, as he entered the kitchen. "Marbus said that he would also drop by with some clothes." He stared at Natalia's white, long-sleeved blouse and long blue skirt, making her aware that she has not changed her outfit since her arrival, yesterday. "Or he might send someone from the Order to deliver some clothes to you." A wry smile curved Cole's mouth. "Unless you don't mind wearing mine."

At that moment, Natalia forgot that the notorious Belthazor now faced her. Instead, she saw a tall and extremely handsome man with vivid blue eyes, standing before her and wearing a smile that seemed to make her shiver with pleasure. "I . . . uh . . . I mean . . ."

Cole's smile became more understanding. "Don't worry. You should be receiving your new clothes before lunch." He grabbed the last of his orange juice from the kitchen table and drained the glass. "Oh, and don't . . ."

"Do not leave the flat," Natalia finished. She sighed. "I suppose I should find something to do. Perhaps meditate, or work on that novel I've been writing. Speaking of which . . . do you have any writing paper?"

Cole pointed at a desk in the living room. "Top drawer. You should find some writing tablets and pens, as well." With Natalia close behind him, he returned to the other room. "When I return, perhaps I can help you learn who is killing the Elders. If you don't mind my help."

Natalia smiled at the half-demon. "I would more than welcome it. Thank you. For everything."

"My pleasure." Cole flashed one last smile at the whitelighter and teleported out of the room.

A sigh left Natalia's mouth, as she stared at the spot left empty by her host. After three years, she finally understood how two witches had ended up falling in love with the notorious half-demon. Who could resist that handsome face, the blue eyes and charming manners? A woman would have to be half dead not to be affected by his presence.

Then her eyes returned to the kitchen's trash can. Hmmm. Sooner or later, she would have to get rid of it. Before an odor overwhelms the penthouse. Too bad that Elders were the only whitelighters that could teleport other objects.

* * * *




Olivia glanced up from her computer screen, as Scott Yi entered the squad room. The moment he had settled behind his desk, she stood up and sauntered over toward him. "Hi Scott!" she greeted cheerfully.

The slightly younger inspector smiled at the redhead. "Olivia. You seem pretty cheerful. Having a good morning?"

"Oh, my morning is just fine." Olivia settled in the chair, next to Scott's desk.

He stared at her. "Uh, do you want something?"

"Yeah. Some information. Have you found Lin Bryant, yet?"

Various emotions flitted across Scott's face. Surprise, wariness and suspicion. "What makes you think I . . .?"

Darryl appeared by Scott's desk. "What's going on?" he asked.

Olivia's gaze remained fixed upon Scott. "I was about to ask. You've heard of this Lin Bryant, haven't you, Scott?"

"I . . ." A slightly resentful expression appeared on the young officer's face. "What's this? The third degree? What makes you think that I know her?"

"Your reaction, yesterday, when Gerry Gallagher had mentioned Ms. Bryant's name," Olivia continued. "You've heard of her, haven't you?"

Scott hesitated, before his shoulders finally sagged in defeat. "Okay. Yeah, I've heard of Lin Bryant. She's . . ." He hesitated. "She's a well-known antiquity dealer in Chinatown."

"Legitimate?" Darryl asked.

Scott shrugged his shoulders. "Somewhat. She used to own an auction house on Grant."

Olivia frowned. "Used to?"

"I had checked it out, yesterday. It's closed. I think she's gone. Relocated."

Darryl asked, "Then why the big secret? Why didn't you just tell us about her?"

Again, Scott hesitated. Olivia's eyes fell upon an object on her colleague's desk. A small medallion with Chinese characters on it that hung from a desk lamp. The medallion looked very familiar. "Goddess," she murmured. Then Olivia stared at Scott. "Are you a Taoist monk or something?"

Scott stared at her with stunned eyes. "How . . . how did you know . . .? I mean . . ." He paused and bit his lower lip. "What do you know about the Taoist Order?" he finally asked.

"My godfather, Chan Wei Ku, is a priest with the Order," Olivia replied. Scott gasped out loud. She peered at him. "You know him?"

Scott nodded his head. "Master Chan is the head of our local temple. I'm not a monk or anything like that. But I do belong to the Order."

Olivia paused, as she considered her next question. "Scott," she finally began, "are you . . . uh, do you . . . practice the same as Uncle Wei? I mean . . ."

"If you're referring to the Tai Chi Chuan fighting style, yeah."

"I'm not talking about kung fu," Olivia said pointedly. "You had noticed something about that medallion that Gallagher had stolen from Kostopulos' store." She heaved an impatient sigh. "Okay, enough stalling! Scott, do you by any chance, practice magic?"

A horrified Darryl cried out, "Olivia!" He glanced anxiously around the squad room.

Scott hesitated before he finally responded. "How did you know?"

Darryl murmured, "Oh man! Not you too!"

Ignoring her partner, Olivia continued, "I figured as much, when you had admitted that Uncle Wei was the head of your temple. So what are you exactly?"

"A sorcerer," Scott admitted with a shrug. "I'm not powerful like Master Chan. Well, maybe not as experienced. But I'm pretty good." He hesitated. "Are you into . . .?"

Olivia quickly replied, "I'm a witch. Wiccan priestess. Like the rest of my family."

"And she's also pretty good," Darryl added.

Scott stared at the older man. "What about you, Lieutenant? Do you also practice magic?"

Darryl replied firmly, "No! But I know about Olivia and her family. And I know three other witches." He paused. "Now, about Lin Bryant . . ."

"Like I said, she's an antiquity dealer," Scott continued. "She's also a known sorceress. A few friends and myself had checked out her old auction house on Grant. It was empty. Looked like it had been abandoned for quite some time. I had planned to see if I could track down her new location."

Olivia asked, "What kind of . . . antiquities does Ms. Bryant deal in?"

A smirk appeared on Scott's face. "What do you think?"

* * * *



Noon appeared and Paige broke for lunch. She immediately orbed out of Ostera's and materialized in the middle of an empty corridor of one of the BAY-MIRROR's floors. From there, she made her way to Phoebe's office.

"Hey there," she greeted her older sister, after poking her head into the latter's doorway. "Ready to leave?"

Phoebe stood up and grabbed her purse. "Let's go." The two sisters headed for the same empty corridor, where Paige had arrived and orbed to the Halliwell living room. "We're here!" Phoebe announced.

Piper and Chris emerged from the kitchen to greet the newcomers. "And we're ready," Chris declared.

Paige frowned. "Where's Leo?"

"In the Realm. At work."