"A WEDDING IN FOUR ACTS"
ACT II - Part 1
When he and his demonic savior materialized in the middle of an expensively furnished living room, Nick released a gust of breath. He glanced around, both impressed and apprehensive by his surroundings and asked, "Where are we?"
Dark brown eyes gave him a cold stare. "You will find out," he said in an Italian accent. Then he cried out, "Hello? Padronessa? Leonardo? We're here!"
A beautiful, dark-haired woman with familiar sherry-brown eyes descended the curved staircase. And aquamarine robe barely hid a statuesque figure that any woman would envy. Nick realized that she bore a strong resemblance to his former partner-in-crime, Portia Della Scalla. Same delicate features, same towering height and curvaceous figure; and the same eyes. Only this woman wore her luxuriant hair in a severe chignon. She also possessed a patrician air that Portia had lacked. Behind her, followed his new defense attorney - Leonard Mollari. Nick closed his eyes and heaved a despairing sigh.
"So," the woman said in a cool voice, "this is the Streghone who killed my sister."
Fear gripped every nerve in Nick's body. "Oh. Oh no! No, Signorina! I didn't kill anyone!"
One dark brow formed an arch. "Oh?"
"I mean . . ." Nick sighed. "Yes, I did kill someone. But it was a man, not who you think."
The woman took a step forward. "Exactly whom am I referring to?"
Nick hesitated. "Uh, Portia Della Scalla? She's a . . ."
"A succubus. I know." The woman stepped closer. "So am I. Portia was my younger sister." Cold eyes bored into Nick's. "If you did not kill my sister, who did?"
Nervously, Nick continued, "Um, mind you, I wasn't present when your sister was killed. I was being arrested at the time."
"Enough!" Portia's sister swept past Nick and the daemon guarding him. She settled upon a nearby sofa in a regal manner. "Sit down! I want you to tell me everything."
Nick waited for the minion to release him, before he eased into an empty chair near the sofa. Bumping his foot against a nearby table's leg. He darted uneasy glances at his hostess and her minions.
"Alessandro," the succubus said to Nick's rescuer, "get a glass of wine for Signor Marcano. The Rosso Villa Monticelli." While Alessandro headed for the liquor cabinet, Nick's hostess returned her gaze toward him. "Now, let us start from the beginning. First, my name . . . my human name is Claudia Della Scalla. I am Portia's older sister. As Leonardo must have told you, a seer had informed us that you were the one who had summoned my sister. The question is . . . why?"
Aware of the panic rising within him, Nick took a deep breath. He then told Signorina Della Scalla everything - his feelings toward Barbara Bowen, her engagement to Bruce McNeill and his reason for summoning the late and unlamented Portia. He also revealed the events that led to Portia's death. "Like I said," he continued, "I wasn't there when she was killed. But before I was sent off to jail, I found out that Bruce had killed her. Bruce McNeill is the witch I wanted her to . . . well, you know . . ."
"Yes. Kill," Claudia declared bluntly. "So, some ridiculous little witch had killed my sister. A Wiccan." She gave Nick a hard stare. "Unless, you happened to be lying to me. To save your skin."
Nick drained the last of his wine. "Oh no! I'm telling you the truth! You can use a spell or something to find out. As for Bruce . . . well, he's a very powerful witch. And so is the rest of his family."
"I will simply kill this entire family. I'm sure that my coven will be able to deal with th. . ."
Exasperated by the succubus' arrogance, Nick bluntly interrupted her. "Your sister had believed the same thing and ended up getting killed! Besides . . . Bruce should be getting married this weekend. To Barbara. If you go after the McNeills, you might end up hurting her. And there is one more thing."
"What?" Claudia impatiently demanded.
Nick continued, "Belthazor." He noticed the ominous look that flared in Mollari's eyes. "The half-daemon, Belthazor. He's a very close friend of the family. And he's very powerful."
"He is telling the truth, Signorina," Mollari added. "I have heard of him. He was one of the Source's top assassins of the latter's reame."
The Streghone continued, "Belthazor also became the Source for a while, until the Charmed Ones killed him."
"The Charmed Ones?" Claudia frowned. "I have heard of them. Like the Cavalli family, only Wiccan?"
Nick nodded. "Yes. The youngest witch works at Barbara's shop and is a close friend of Bruce's sister. Anyway, after Belthazor was killed, he returned from the dead more powerful than ever. He's even more powerful than their Source. But not as powerful as Dis and Umbria, who are gods."
Claudia's sherry-brown eyes widened in surprise. "I see." She paused momentarily, while the other three stared at her. "I see that I may have to approach this with more subtlety." Her eyes bored into Nick's. "You say that you had promised my sister with a Soma plant, when you asked her to kill this witch for you?"
Once more, Nick nodded. "Yes, Signorina. The plant is inside the McNeills' greenhouse, at their home. It was given to Barbara by an old friend of hers, some three weeks ago."
"How clever of my sister," Claudia murmured. "She almost had her hands on a Soma plant . . . one that would make her a god. I wonder if she would have told me about it." Her eyes flashed at Nick. "And this Barbara . . . do you want her?"
"Well . . . yes. But she would never . . ."
The succubus dismissed his last words with a wave of her hand. "We'll deal with that later. This Signor McNeill . . . you say that he is getting married?"
Nick added, "This Saturday. "Why?"
Her eyes glittering maliciously, she responded with a slow smile. "Because, I believe we will be attending a wedding, this weekend. And hopefully, I will have in my hands a plant that will make me a goddess." She suddenly became businesslike. "Now, I want you to tell me everything about the McNeills, their acquaintances and whom you believe will be at the wedding."
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Andre and Cecile strolled along Chestnut Street, enjoying the early morning crowd that rushed past them and the shops along the street. His stomach growling from a lack of breakfast, Andre demanded that they stopped at a local coffee shop called Peet's Coffee and Tea. The pair entered and each ordered a cup of coffee and a pastry.
"Okay Cecile," Andre said after they settled around an available table, "is there a reason why you had me forgo a nice big breakfast with Cole and drag me out of the building?"
Cecile paused momentarily before she made her announcement. "I had a vision."
The cup in Andre's hand froze just an inch away from his lips. "Say that again?"
Her eyes focused on her boyfriend's, Cecile repeated herself. "I had a vision. A very bad one." She paused. "I met Olivia's new friend, last night. What's his name? Paul Something."
"Margolin," Andre corrected. "Cole told me about him. I heard that he and Livy may be more than just friends."
Shaking her head, Cecile replied, "God, I hope not."
"Meaning?" When Cecile failed to answer, Andre added, "C'mon girl! What could be so wrong about this vision? Is something gonna happen to this Margolin character?"
Cecile hesitated. "No . . . not him. But I think he may end up being responsible. The vision came to me when I shook his hand."
Andre took a sip of his coffee. "Look, why don't you just show me. Telepathically."
"Here?" Cecile glanced around the coffee shop.
"Why not? Or we can go to Olivia's apartment."
Cecile cried out, "No!" Her outburst drew stares from the other customers. "Not there. She hasn't left, yet. That's why I wanted to leave. I couldn't wait to tell you."
In other words, Cecile's vision had something to do with both Cole and Olivia. Andre frowned. "Show me. Right now."
"Okay." Giving the coffee shop another glance, Cecile ordered Andre to lean forward and close his eyes. She muttered a phrase in the Fon language over and over again. A minute later, the vision struck.
Andre saw Cole, Olivia and a strange man inside the penthouse. The stranger, whom he surmised must be Paul Margolin, stood by wearing a smug expression, while Cole and Olivia engaged in some kind of conversation. Then Olivia began to chant and a heptagon within a circle materialized around Cole's feet. Each side of the heptagon shot bolts of light at Cole, causing the half-daemon to scream. The red-haired witch continued her chant until Cole's body disintegrated into a burst of light.
The moment the vision ended, Andre gasped out loud, drawing more stares. Breathing heavily, he looked at Cecile in disbelief. "What the hell? I can't . . . Did I just see . . .?" He leaned forward and whispered, "Did I just see Olivia kill Cole?"
Cecile nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's impossible. Paige once told me about this sorcerer who had Cole's powers, last fall. Someone named Barbas. She and her sisters weren't able to kill him with the Power of Three. They had to return the powers back to Cole, first."
"So, how would Olivia be able . . .?" Andre paused. "If the Power of Three couldn't kill some guy with Cole's powers, how would Olivia be able to kill Cole?"
A grim Cecile replied, "I don't know. Maybe Olivia will find a way. You know, she once had a theory on how to kill the Source, but Leo didn't take it seriously. I'm worried about why she would kill Cole in the first place. And why would I get a vision like that shaking Paul Margolin's hand?"
Andre stared at his girlfriend with uneasy eyes. "Are you gonna tell her? Tell Livy?"
"Tell her what, Andre? That she's gonna kill Cole? And that her present boyfriend might have something to do with it?" Cecile rolled her eyes. "Are you kidding?"
"Listen cherie, you're gonna have to tell her, sooner or later."
Cecile took a sip of her hot chocolate. "I'd rather do it, later. Maybe after I talk to Mama and Livy's parents about it."
A heavy sigh left Andre's mouth. "Okay. It's your call. Man! I should have known something was gonna happen during this trip. I only hope that matters don't get any worse."
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Stunned by the news they had just received, Olivia and her partner, Darryl Morris, sat inside Captain McPherson's office, staring at the man with shocked eyes. Darryl became the first to find his voice. "Excuse me Captain," he said, "but you could repeat what you just said?"
The burly police captain viewed his lieutenant with sympathetic eyes. He sighed. Heavily. "I said that Nick Marcano has escaped from the County lockup at the Hall of Justice, last night. He simply . . . disappeared."
"Disappeared?" Olivia leaned forward. "How?"
McPherson continued, "We believe that a guard helped him escape." He glanced at the report on his desk. "According to one guard named Timothy Hamilton, another guard named Ben Jenoff had told him that one Keith Hardy had called in sick, and a temp named Reyes showed up. Only Hardy never called in sick. At least, according to Hamilton. He stopped by the cafeteria, while Hamilton reported for duty. Jenoff became suspicious and went to investigate."
"So it was this Jenoff who discovered that Marcano had escaped?" Darryl asked.
The captain shook his head. "No, it was Hamilton. He found Marcano missing and . . . Jenoff's body outside the cell. Burnt to a crisp. How, no one knows."
Olivia muttered under breath, "Oh great!"
"What was that, Inspector?" McPherson demanded.
"Nothing sir," Olivia responded morosely.
The captain nodded. "By the way, Hardy's body was also found." He paused dramatically. "Inside a closet, not far from the cafeteria. Also burnt. Now, how the perpetrator managed to achieve this without setting the whole damn building on fire is beyond me."
Darryl asked, "Exactly who is this guard? This Reyes?"
"No one knows," McPherson curtly replied. "He doesn't exist. At least not with the County Sheriff's Department." The police captain heaved a sigh. "This Reyes is probably someone who is mighty interested in Marcano. I can think of someone else who might be behind this escape. Marcano's accomplice in the DeWolfe murder is still alive. And missing."
Both Olivia and Darryl exchanged uneasy glances. They both knew better. "Uh, you mean this Della Scalla woman?" Darryl asked hesitantly.
McPherson nodded. "We need to find Marcano. Fast. This escape . . . it's a real embarrassment not only to the County Sheriff's Department, but to SFPD, as well."
"Um, does this mean . . .?" Olivia began. However, she immediately closed her mouth under McPherson's direct stare.
"Does this mean . . . what?"
Olivia's face grew hot with embarrassment. She shook her head. "I . . . there's a wedding in the family, this weekend. My older brother. Also, we have a few out-of-state guests. I was thinking if I could take part of today and tomorrow . . ."
McPherson's reply was curt. "No, you may not take some time off. I want both you and Morris working on this case, full time. At least until you're off duty. I'm sure that your brother would appreciate your efforts. Understand?"
A sigh left Olivia's mouth before she answered, "Yes sir." Shit!
"Dismissed."
The two partners stood up and left McPherson's office. Silently. Upon reaching their desks, Darryl finally broke the silence. "Well, I guess we better tell Bruce and Barbara the news."
"Along with Deborah Mann, Aunt Carla and Jason," Olivia added morosely. "Nick picked one hell of a time to escape. Three days before Bruce's wedding."
Sympathy filled Darryl's dark eyes. "Something tells me that Marcano had no choice in the timing." When Olivia reached for her telephone, he added, "Giving Bruce a call?"
"Yeah, I might as well. I'm going to ask him to meet with us at Ostera, so we can break the news to him and Barbara at the same time. They're not going to like this."
Something like a cross between a guffaw and a grunt escaped Darryl's mouth. "Huh. That's the understatement of the year."
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Two pairs of eyes - one blue and the other blue-gray - stared at the two police officers with disbelief. "Escaped? Nick Marcano has escaped?" Barbara said in a high-pitched voice.
It was lunchtime. Olivia and Darryl stood inside Ostera's storeroom, facing both the store's owner and her fiancé. Darryl nodded. "Yeah. Last night. He . . . uh, he disappeared from his cell. Along with the guard who helped him."
Olivia added, "Who might be a daemon."
Barbara looked away, distress marring her beautiful face. Bruce sighed. Long and hard. Of all the days for this to happen, he thought. He said out loud in a testy voice, "That's just great. Nick decides to escape just three days before my wedding."
Both Olivia and Darryl exchanged uneasy glances. "I don't think he had planned his escape," she added. "It's obvious that someone helped him. Remember the guard?"
"What about him?" Barbara demanded.
Olivia continued, "Well, this guard . . . might be associated with Portia Della Scalla. Or maybe even her sister."
Anxiety flitted within Bruce's chest. Memories of the succubus filled his mind. "Oh shit!"
Darryl frowned. "That . . . uh, she had a sister?"
"Yeah. Remember what Cole's old friend had told us?" Olivia replied. "He said . . ."
"Yes, thank you for reminding us!" Barbara curtly interrupted. "I was there, remember? I remember what that daemon had told us about Miss Della Scalla's sister. God!" She walked away from the others, her body trembling. "This is great! Bruce and I are supposed to be married the day after tomorrow, only we have Nick Marcano and maybe a vengeful succubus to worry about. I just knew something would happen to screw up everything!"
Bruce walked over to his fiancé and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Barbara, honey . . . Look, don't worry. I'm sure that nothing will happen before the wedding. Maybe Nick has already left San Francisco." He glanced at the two inspectors. "Has he?"
Darryl shook his head. "I doubt it. Look, Olivia and I have to get going. We have to break the news to a few others."
Olivia added, "Yeah, like the BAY-MIRROR." She sighed. "And Deborah Mann. I really don't look forward to her reaction."
Bruce nodded. "We understand. I'll see you two later, okay?" Without bothering to look at his sister and her partner, he gently forced Barbara to face him, and enveloped her into his arms.
END OF ACT II - Part 1
*********************************************************************************
"A WEDDING IN FOUR ACTS"
Act II - Part 2
"Debo . . ." Cole paused, while he listened to his client ramble on. "Yeah, Deb . . . Yes, I realize this must be disturbing for you." The voice on the other end of the telephone continued. "Uh, yeah. Look, Deborah . . . No! No, I don't think that will accomplish anything. It's obvious . . . Yeah, but didn't you just say that the police believe he had an accomplice?"
Deborah Mann responded in a wavering voice, "Are you sure, Cole? What if . . . what if that monster decides to come after me?"
"I'm sure that he won't," Cole said in his most reassuring voice. "If he wanted to, he would have came after you before he was caught."
A long sigh filled the telephone's earpiece. "I guess you're right. But if the police doesn't capture that bastard by the following Monday," Cole's client said in a voice that suddenly hardened with resolve, "I'm suing their ass!"
"Of course, Deborah! I understand. Look, why don't you get some rest? Okay?"
A pause followed before she finally answered in a defeated voice, "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's just this news . . ."
"I understand," Cole said gently. Then, "Bye Deborah. I'll talk to you, later."
"Good-bye Cole," Deborah replied. "And thanks." She hung up.
Cole hung up and heaved a large sigh. For the second time this week, he had to stop a client from making a big mistake. If Deborah Mann had gone ahead with her lawsuit, the circumstances surrounding Nick Marcano's escape would have made matters . . . difficult. For him, and especially for the McNeill family. According to Deborah, Darryl Morris had informed her that the police believed that Portia Della Scalla may have been responsible for the escape. If demonic forces were behind it, Cole surmised that the succubus' sister might be in town. And the idea of facing another succubus filled him with dread. He still harbored vague memories of Portia taking away his control through seductive promises, kisses, a pair of hypnotic sherry-brown eyes and a few other magical means. After being manipulated by Andras, Raynor, the Seer, the Source's essence, the Siren, Barbas and Portia, Cole hated the idea of facing someone else capable of assuming control over him on that level.
He needed a drink. Badly. Only Cole desired a cup of coffee. Just as he was about to buzz his assistant to fetch him a cup, her voice blasted from the intercom box. "Mr. Turner," she announced, "Ms. Altman would like to see you."
"Show her in," Cole replied. "And Eleanor, could you get me a cup of coffee? Milk and two sugars."
Seconds later, a tall, dark-haired woman with gray eyes and dressed in an expensive tailored suit, entered Cole's office. "Good afternoon, Mr. Turner," she greeted gaily. Veronica Altman happened to be one of Cole's fellow attorneys, who worked also worked in Jackman, Carter and Kline's Corporate Division.
"Veronica," Cole politely replied. "If I didn't know any better, I would say that you wanted something from me."
The other attorney's smile stretched into a wide grin. "As a matter of fact, I do. Remember that contract you had written for the Markham case, last December? You know, the one that got you the bonus from the Senior Partners?"
"Yes, I remember." Cole's eyes bored into Veronica's. "Why?"
A sigh left Veronica's mouth. "Because, I would like to see it. Borrow it. Use it as a template for this contract I have in mind."
Shaking his head, Cole could not help but smile. "In other words, you want to borrow my work to impress your client."
"You don't mind, do you?" Veronica gave him one of her patent innocent looks that have made her such a success in the courtroom.
Cole gave in. He really did not mind if Veronica wanted to copy his work. Besides, she happened to be one of the few people at Jackman, Carter and Kline with whom he was friendly. She was a pleasant, outgoing woman, who did not allow her own ambition to get in the way of friendship.
When Eleanor entered the office, carrying a cup of coffee, he asked her to fetch the Markham files. Once the assistant left, Veronica smiled at him. "Thanks Turner. You're a true friend. If you ever need a favor, just ask."
Favor. Cole then remembered his conversation with Andre, last night. The one about him finding a date for Bruce's wedding. Hmmmm. "Listen Veronica, there is a favor you can do for me."
Gray eyes narrowed. "Like what?"
"How would you like to go to a wedding?"
Veronica paused. Confusion whirled in her eyes. "You want to take me . . . to a wedding? Me?" Again, she regarded him with suspicion. "Why? Is this some kind of date?"
"Well, no . . . uh, I mean . . ." Cole found himself in the undesirable position of being tongue-tied. He squirmed under Veronica's direct gaze. "What I meant was . . ." Hell, he might as well be truthful! "Yeah. Yeah, this is a date."
Veronica continued to stare at him. "Uh-huh. Well, I would accept . . . if I knew the reason behind this offer."
Now Cole did not know whether to feel insulted or embarrassed that he might have just been found out. So, he assumed an outraged expression and shot back, "What the hell? It's just an offer for a date! What the hell did you mean by that?"
"Cole?" Veronica's tone assumed one of a patient mother speaking to her child. "Now, you know that in the entire year you have been here . . . aside from those few months you were gone . . . not once have you ever expressed interest in me. Or I in you." She gave him another close scrutiny. "Why haven't you asked your friend, Olivia?"
"It's her brother's wedding."
Veronica shrugged. "So?"
Cole paused. "She's going to the wedding with someone else."
"Oh." Gray eyes widened with realization. "Oh!" Veronica declared. "Now, I understand. I heard that she was seen at Top-of-the-Marks with that new ADA from the East Coast. What's his name?"
Through clenched teeth, Cole murmured, "Paul Margolin."
"Oh yes," Veronica continued, nodding. "I've seen him at the Hall of Justice. Delicious."
Maintaining his temper, Cole snapped back, "Look, are you interested in going to the wedding? Or do you want me to arrange a date between you and Margolin?"
"I'd bet you'd like that," Veronica murmured.
Cole glared at his colleague. "Veronica?"
"Is this an attempt to get Olivia, jealous?" she asked shrewdly.
Realizing that he had lost of the game of deception, Cole sighed. Women. Or else he must be losing his touch. "Yes," he replied in a defeated voice. "If you must know, I'm . . ." Another sigh left his mouth. "Shit! I'm trying to get Olivia jealous. Yes."
"Thought so," Veronica shot back. "I could tell you two were interested in each other, as far back as February. Too bad you didn't realize this, back then."
"Veronica . . ." Cole's voice radiated strained patience.
She quickly spoke up. "I would love to go."
"Great!"
Veronica added, "By the way, if I meet someone I like at the wedding, consider yourself abandoned. Okay Turner?"
"Deal," Cole shot back.
Eleanor entered the office, carrying two thick files and a coffee mug. "Here you go, Ms. Altman," she said to Cole's colleague. Then she placed the mug on Cole's desk. "And your coffee, Mr. Turner."
"Thank you, Eleanor." Veronica flashed a smile at the legal assistant. Then she said to Cole, "See you on . . ."
"Saturday," Cole finished. "I'll pick you up around eleven."
"I'll be ready." Veronica turned on her heels and left the office. Eleanor followed closely.
The moment the door closed behind the two women, Cole leaned back against his leather chair and sighed. Satisfied that he had completed at least one task.
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Inside Carla Bianchi's North Beach home, Olivia consoled the older woman after delivering the news of Nick Marcano's escape. The Strega, who happened to be an old friend of Gweneth McNeill and Olivia's godmother, stared ahead, her face etched in deep anxiety. On the other side of her sat Michael Bianchi, Aunt Carla's oldest son.
"I can't believe it!" Carla declared in shocked tones. "Nick has escaped? And with the help of a daemon?"
Olivia nodded. "I'm afraid so, Aunt Carla. I wish that Darryl and I had come by earlier, but we had an investigation to do. Plus, we had to warn Bruce and Barbara."
"You think he's going to go after them, again?" Michael Bianchi demanded. He was a good-looking, stocky man around thirty-seven years-old. Just three years older than Bruce. Like Carla, he possessed penetrating black eyes, and thick dark brown hair. Only he merely displayed hints of gray near the sideburns.
Darryl, who had accompanied Olivia to the older woman's home, said, "It's a possibility. Considering his feelings for Barbara."
"I still can't believe that Nick had killed some newspaper columnist, plotted to kill Bruce and summoned a succubus!" Michael's voice tinged with dislike. "I mean, I knew the guy had a few screws loose, but good grief! Sometimes I wish that Aunt Nina had never married that jerk." Olivia knew to whom Michael referred. Nick's late father - Joseph Marcano.
Carla's eyes pinpointed her oldest son's with a hard stare. "Michael! You're talking about your cousin!"
"Look Mom, I know! But . . ."
With quiet intensity, Carla continued, "Your cousin may have committed a few mistakes, but he's a human being. A living being. And like all living beings, he is capable of following the wrong path." Michael's face turned red, as she paused and took a deep breath. "The question is . . . where is he now?"
Olivia shrugged. "I'm sorry, Aunt Carla, but we don't know. We believe that it was a daemon who had sprung him, but there was no way Nick could have summoned one without the proper tools. So there's the possibility. . ." She hesitated.
Both Carla and her son stared at Olivia. "Possibility of what?" Michael demanded.
Sighing, Olivia continued, "There's the possibility that another succubus may be responsible for Nick's escape." She paused. "It seems Portia Della Scalla has a sis . . ."
"Claudia." Carla's comment took both Olivia and Darryl by surprise.
Darryl demanded, "You've heard of this demon?"
Nodding Carla continued, "Yes. I've heard of the Della Scalla sisters." She turned to Olivia. "I'm surprised that you didn't ask me about the other sister - Portia. When Nick was first arrested."
"Considering that the two succubus come from another part of Italy, Aunt Carla, I'm surprised that you even knew about them," Olivia said.
With a shrug, Carla said, "My mother came from Venice. That's where she and Papa met. During the war. World War II. She used to tell me a lot of stories about the Della Scalla sisters. Especially since one of them - Portia - tried to seduce my grandfather, once."
Looking confused, Darryl said, "I don't understand. Why do you keep calling them by human names? Especially since they're supposed to be demons?"
"Because they're descended from a human," Michael replied. "Their grandfather."
Carla added, "He was a member of a noble Venetian family, who was seduced by their grandmother. Their child, an adamitici . . . or a wizard, took his father's name of Della Scalla. This wizard was the sisters' father. Portia, the younger sister, is the one whom Bruce had killed. She was smart, like her sister. Only . . . a bit rash. And she didn't stick with the coven."
A frowning Olivia asked, "What coven?"
"La Congrega de Della Scalla," Carla announced.
"The coven is named after them?"
Carla nodded. "Claudia, the oldest, founded it over 150 years ago. It mainly consists of other incubus, succubus and some low-level daemons."
Olivia dreaded asking the next question. "How big is this coven?"
A long stretch of silence followed, increasing Olivia's feeling of dread. Finally, Carla answered. "Very big. If she is behind Nick's escape . . . I only hope and pray that she will not come after Bruce or Barbara." In other words, the McNeill family had a major problem on their hands.
With forced brightness, Carla asked both Olivia and Darryl if they would each like a slice of tiramisu. Darryl immediately said yes. Olivia considered the added calories . . . and Cecile's reaction to a missed opportunity for a sample of the dessert. She sighed. "Sure. Why not? Could you also cut an extra slice for Cecile?"
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Around ten, the following morning, Paige descended the staircase leading to P3, the nightclub owned by Piper. There, she found her older sister supervising workers for tonight's party. "Hey! What's up, Sis?" she greeted. "Need any help?"
Piper frowned at the younger witch. "I already have Cecile helping me. She and her boyfriend are due here, any minute. Aren't you supposed to be at work?"
"Nah, Barbara closed the shop for the day," Paige explained. "Wedding rehearsals."
"Well, aren't you supposed to be there?" Piper added. "After all, you're one of the bridesmaids."
Paige replied, "Rehearsals aren't until two, this afternoon. Olivia is a little busy this morning. You know, the escape."
Piper ordered one of her employees to inflate more balloons. "Oh. You mean that . . ." She glanced around uneasily, to ensure that no one was listening. ". . . that witch who's in love with Barbara?"
"Yeah, Nick. Everyone's in an uproar over it. Remember how Jason reacted, last night?"
Recalling the BAY-MIRROR owner's rant over the Nick Marcano escape, last night, Piper shuddered. "Remind me to wait a while before I consider inviting him to dinner again. At least until he cools down."
"I thought you liked Jason," Paige said, giving her a light punch on the shoulder.
Piper sighed. "I do. And I think he's good for Phoebe. Especially after Cole." From the corner of her eye, she noticed the slight frown on Paige's face. "But I just wish . . . God! I wish he could be a little more . . . subtle. And not so intimidating. Anyway, why are the McNeills in an uproar over . . . whats-his-name, Nick? The demon he had summoned is dead."
"She had a sister. Remember what Cole's friend, Riggerio, told us?"
"And they're not going to cancel the wedding?" Piper asked in a dubious voice.
Shrugging, Paige replied, "Barbara insists upon going ahead with the wedding. You should be happy. Olivia is paying you a nice amount for holding the bridal shower, here at P3." She paused. "Unless she has cancelled . . ."
"No, she hasn't," Piper said, interrupting. "Thank goodness. I can use the money."
Paige walked behind the bar. Piper watched, as she reached for a glass and filled it with tap water. "By the way, who have you hired for tonight's . . . entertainment?"
Piper's eyes narrowed, as she examined her sister. Despite the innocent expression on the latter's face, Piper could spot a hint of anticipation in those dark eyes. "If you must know, we'll be having a male stripper."
A broad smile creased Paige's lips.
"Olivia gave me a name," Piper continued. "Some guy named Lee Carver, who works at some place called the Strobe Light Club." From the corner of her eye, she saw one of her employees walk toward a stack of boxes. "I'm supposed to be calling him, tonight."
A noise heralded the arrival of two newcomers - Cecile Dubois, and a tall, black man with rich brown skin and a handsome regal face that had both Piper and Paige staring, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.
"Hey guys!" Cecile greeted with a smile. "Where ya at?" She indicated her handsome companion with a tug at the arm. "I'd like y'all to meet a friend of mine. Andre Morrell."
Piper opened her mouth to speak, until she realized that not a sound had come out. She gave her head a small shake. "Hi," she said, clasping Andre's outstretched hand, "I'm Piper Halliwell."
He smiled. Radiantly. "Andre Morrell." His voice was deep. And rich. He turned to face Paige. "And you are?"
"Huh?" Piper jabbed her sister's side with her elbow. "Oh." Paige blinked. "Paige. Paige Matthews."
Confusion lit up Andre's brown eyes. Cecile added, "Paige is Piper and Phoebe's half sister."
"Oh." Andre nodded. "So, what do you want me to do?"
Certain thoughts entered Piper's mind, until she remembered that she was a married woman. "Oh . . . uh, could you and Cecile help decorate the place with balloons and streamers?"
"Sure thing," Cecile said. She grabbed Andre by the arm. "Let's go, cherie."
The two Charmed Ones watched the New Orleans couple walk over to the other employees. Their eyes remained fixed on the tall man, whose body radiated a lean, muscular frame. "My God!" Paige exclaimed. "Too bad he's not the male stripper."
"Paige!" Piper tried to sound outraged, but failed. She felt the same. Then she remembered. "Isn't he an old friend of Cole's?"
Paige nodded. "Yeah. They've known each other for nearly ten years. Apparently, Andre used to be a bokor. You know, like that guy who had possessed Darryl, last December."
"Figures," Piper muttered. "Great body and looks like a god. Like our former brother-in-law. Must be a requisite for the evil male. Thank goodness Leo is simply good-looking." She glanced around the club and frowned.
"What is it?" Paige asked.
Piper replied, "I don't know. What happened to that guy who was here?"
"What guy?"
Once more, Piper looked around. Maybe she had imagined things. "Nothing. It's nothing." And she and Paige returned to work.
END OF ACT II - Part 2
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