"DOUBLE EMNITY"
Chapter 11
"We've got some news."
Jack, Gweneth and Elise McNeill glanced up from the television set inside McNeill manor's the blue drawing-room. Before them stood Bruce and Barbara, who looked as if they were bursting with a secret. "What news is that?" Jack asked.
The young couple walked over to stand beside the television set. Jack switched it off with a remote. "It's about Barbara's visit to the doctor, yesterday."
Jack's mother inhaled sharply. "Oh Goddess!" She broke into a wide smile. "Oh! I'm so happy for both of you!"
"Happy about what?" Jack demanded.
Gweneth rolled her eyes. "For heaven's sake, Jack! Don't you know?" She stood up and enveloped Bruce into a hug. Then she hugged Barbara. "Oh darlings! I can't believe it!"
"Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Jack exclaimed.
Bruce stood before his father. "Barbara is pregnant, Dad."
"Ten weeks," Barbara added. "The baby is due in late September."
The news left Jack feeling flabbergasted. Following Bruce and Olivia's weddings, he had considered that he might end up as a grandfather within at least two years. He simply had not expected to become one so soon. "Oh! Um . . ." He let out a gust of breath. "Wow! This is a surprise." He hesitated for a brief moment before he allowed himself a smile. "Well, congratulations, you two! I guess I'm going to be a grandfather!" He hugged the happy couple.
"I know how you feel, Dad," Bruce added. "I'm still shocked that I'm going to be a father. And I've known about the baby since lunchtime."
The door swung open. A very pale Davies stood in the doorway. "Pardon me, Mr. McNeill. You have a visitor." The manservant stepped aside, revealing a very tense looking Darryl Morris.
"Darryl," Gweneth greeted politely. "What are you doing here?"
The police lieutenant opened his mouth, but not a sound came out. Jack noted his haggard expression . . . and his slightly damp eyes. An uneasy feeling gripped Jack. "Darryl, is there something wrong?" He noticed that someone was missing. "Where is Olivia?"
Darryl heaved a deep sigh. "Uh . . . I've got some bad news. Olivia is dead."
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Paige and Harry descended the staircase leading into P3's main room. "Hey guys! Anyone here?" Paige cried.
Both Piper and Phoebe emerged from the club's office. "It's about time you got here." Piper carried Wyatt in her arms. "I need you to take Wyatt home. Phoebe had promised to help me open the club, tonight."
"Does that mean I have to babysit again?" Paige demanded. "Harry had promised to take me to the movies, tonight. He's already bought the tickets."
Harry explained, "I bought them on the Internet. We're going to see "HILDAGO".
"Oooo!" Phoebe exclaimed. "Viggo Mortensen!"
Piper, on the other hand, did not seem impressed. "Can't you take Wyatt with you?"
Both Paige and Harry stared at the oldest Halliwell in disbelief. "You want me to take a year-old toddler to a movie? Why can't Phoebe . . .?"
Before Phoebe could respond, Piper said, "I need her help to open the club."
Paige had a suggestion. "What about Leo?"
"Can't reach him," Piper retorted. "As usual."
"Chris?"
Phoebe shrugged. "We can't reach him, either." Then she muttered in a sotto voice, "The coward."
"What did you say?" Paige asked.
"Nothing."
Harry added, "What about Cole and Olivia? Or my parents?"
Piper hesitated. "Hmmm, maybe Cole and Olivia won't mind. I'll give them a call."
At that moment, Harry's cell phone rang. He broke away from the sisters to answer the call.
Meanwhile, Paige suggested that she and Harry take Wyatt off Piper's hands. "And maybe drop him off at Cole and Olivia's place. Hopefully, they won't mind looking after . . ."
"WHAT??" The cry came from Harry. The three sisters saw him lean against the bar, looking very upset. "Oh . . . oh God! No!" Then to their surprise, he began to cry.
Paige started toward her boyfriend. "Harry?" She saw tears rolling down his cheeks. "Harry, what's wrong?"
The redhead sniffed several times before taking a deep breath. "That . . . was um, . . . that was Bruce." He snatched a napkin from the bar and wiped his eyes. "Um . . . Darryl came by the house. It seems . . ." His voice began to crack. "God, I can't . . . I can't believe it."
Paige grabbed hold of his arm. "Harry, what was Darryl doing at your house?" she asked softly.
Harry took another deep breath. "Olivia is . . . dead. She was shot . . . and killed . . ." He broke off and began to cry.
At first, Paige was stunned by the news. "Wha . . . what are you . . .? Olivia's dead?" She could not believe it. It just did not seem possible.
"Did you say that Olivia was dead?" Piper demanded softly. "Oh God." Both she and Phoebe regarded Harry with disbelief. "How . . . how is that possible?"
After a long, silent pause, Harry revealed what happened. He had learned from Bruce that Olivia, Darryl and Scott had responded to call about two bodies found in an alley off Powell Street. Olivia broke off from the group to search for more clues in an adjacent alley, when she surprised the perpetrator. The latter shot her twice – once in the chest and in the stomach. A tramp had also been killed. Olivia died in an ambulance on the way to a hospital.
"Oh my God!" Phoebe exclaimed. She looked visibly upset. "Does Cole know?"
Harry shook his head. "No one has told him, yet," he said in a hoarse voice. "I was . . . I'm going to see him, now and tell him . . ." He began to cry again. Paige – also on the verge of tears – enveloped him into a tight hug. Tears began to fall from her eyes.
"Do you . . . do you want me to join you?" Paige said between sniffs.
This time, Harry nodded. "If you don't mind."
Phoebe added, "Maybe I should come along. Cole might . . . he's not going to take this well. If that's okay with you."
Again, Harry nodded. "Yeah . . . thank. I . . . thanks."
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The cell phone inside Klymus' right jacket pocket rang, taking him by surprise. He retrieved the phone and answered it. "Hello?"
"It's me, Olivia McNeill." The daemon recognized the red-haired warlock's voice. "I've got the staff."
Which meant that she no longer required his help. Damn! Klymus had hoped to spend a little more time with the mortal. "So . . . why are you telling me?" he demanded.
"I've left a package for your boss," the warlock continued. "Inside the penthouse. You should find it on the living room computer keyboard.
A certain half-daemon popped into Klymus' thoughts. "Wait a minute. What about Belthazor? Did he ever . . .?"
A cool voice interrupted. "You won't have to worry about him. Trust me."
"Yes, but . . ."
The warlock heaved an exasperated sigh. "Klymus, I suggest that you haul ass to that penthouse. Before someone else shows up and learn about Artemus' identity. Good-bye." The line went dead.
Klymus heaved a sigh and shoved his cell phone back into his jacket. Despite his trepidation that the McNeill warlock may have set a trap, Klymus teleported to the foyer outside of the Turner penthouse. He glanced at the door and noticed that it was slightly ajar. The daemon hesitated. Should he enter? Had the McNeill woman set a trap? Klymus took a deep breath and opened the door. Slowly.
Inside, he found the penthouse's living room just as he had last seen it . . . neat, and well furnished. Except for a martini glass that sat on a coffee table. The daemon saw the other glass on the floor – next to a pair of legs that protruded from behind the sofa. Klymus slowly walked around it. His eyes widened at the sight of Belthazor's body sprawled on the floor.
The daemon knelt beside the body. He felt for a pulse. Nothing. The half-daemon was obviously dead. Then he spotted the stab wound in the chest that obviously came from a stiletto knife. When did the McNeill warlock have such a weapon?
Assured that Belthazor was finally dead, Klymus stood up and walked toward the computer on a wide desk. He found a large, yellow envelope situated on top of the keyboard. As he reached for it, Klymus heard voices from beyond the front door. The daemon snatched the package and teleported out of the penthouse.
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Seconds earlier, Paige, Harry and Phoebe orbed into the foyer between the elevator and the Turners' penthouse. Harry wiped away more of his tears. Paige gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. Meanwhile, Phoebe took a deep breath and leaned forward to ring the doorbell. Only her eyes spotted something amiss. Namely the fact that the door was open. A sense of danger tingled at the back of her neck. "Uh . . . something's wrong, guys."
"What?" Harry demanded in a heavy voice.
Phoebe touched the door. It swung open. "Oh my God," she muttered. "Something's wrong." She stepped inside the penthouse, crying out for her ex-husband. "Cole? Cole, where are you?" She strode past the living room and headed toward the master bedroom. It was empty. "Cole?"
Then she heard Paige cry out, "Oh my God! Phoebe!" The middle Charmed One returned to the living room and found both Paige and Harry standing behind the sofa. Both looked very upset. Paige opened her mouth. "Phoebe, I . . ."
Phoebe strode over to where the other two stood. "What's wro . . .?" She glanced down at the body, sprawled at her feet. "Oh God! Cole!" She knelt beside her ex-husband. "Cole?" She felt for his pulse . . . and sensed nothing. Not even a vision of his killer. Vivid blue eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling.
"He's dead, Phoebe," Harry whispered slightly. "Someone must have stabbed him in the chest . . . after stripping away his powers. Phoebe?"
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A soft knock on his office door distracted Artemus from his telephone call. The door opened and Prax burst into the office. "Artemus, you have . . ."
The older daemon held up one hand. Prax fell silent. Then Artemus finished the conversation. "No more excuses, Argoth. Unless any of you have results, don't bother contacting me!" He slammed the receiver on the telephone and muttered an oath. "Damn alchemists! What good are they?" He leaned back into his chair and sighed. "What is it, Prax?"
"Klymus is back, sir," Prax announced.
"Well, send him in."
Seconds later, the Inuyasha daemon entered the office. He carried a large, yellow envelope. "The warlock is gone, Artemus. The McNeill woman. I believe that she has returned to her dimension."
Artemus sighed. "I'm happy for her. Did she get her staff?"
"Yes sir."
"Good." A thought came to Artemus. "Did she come into contact with anyone in particular?"
Klymus hesitated. "Well . . . yes sir. She was in contact with both Belthazor and his wife. They're . . ."
Of all the incompetence! "And you didn't bother to stop her? Klymus, you . . ."
"They're dead, Artemus."
The younger daemon's words stopped Artemus in mid-rant. He stared at the former. "Say that again?"
"Belthazor and his wife." Klymus let out a gust of breath. "They're dead. The warlock had killed them both."
Prax's words rang with disbelief. "You're lying!"
Klymus ignored Prax's accusation and explained that he had witnessed Olivia Turner's shooting at the hand of her doppelganger in an alley off Powell Street. "Gunshot to the stomach and chest. She died on the way to a hospital. I saw the body there. Belthazor had been stabbed in the chest. I believe Ms. McNeill had stripped away his powers before killing him."
Belthazor's powers. "Where are his powers?" Artemus demanded.
Klymus' eyes grew wide with fear. "Oh. I . . . I guess 'she' has them. But she had left this behind for you." He handed Artemus the yellow envelope.
Artemus opened the envelope and removed a CD-disk and a smaller white envelope. He placed the disk inside one of the computer's drives and activated his Windows Media function. Seconds later, the familiar image of a certain redhead appeared on the computer screen.
"Good afternoon, Artemus," a smiling Olivia McNeill greeted. "If you're watching this, then you know that the other Olivia and Cole are dead and I finally have the Aingeal staff. I would like to thank you, Prax and especially Klymus for the assistance. And as a sign of my gratitude, I have left two gifts inside the white envelope – two spells that you might find interesting."
Aretemus paused the recording and opened the envelope. He found two sheets of paper. One of them possessed the ingredients for a power stripping potion – which he suspected that Ms. McNeill had used on Belthazor. The other sheet contained the instructions for a vanquish. Artemus' heartbeat increased. He wondered if this was the spell created by the late Olivia Turner that nearly killed Belthazor, last summer. He resumed the recording.
"If you don't mind, I would like to give you a piece of advice," the red-haired warlock continued. "I'm certain that you plan to go after the Charmed Ones. I doubt they would allow you to remain alive, once they learn that you intend to become the new Source. If so, I suggest that you kill them . . . one by one. Or you could use that vanquishing spell and kill the three of them at the same time. Apparently, my doppelganger had nearly killed her Cole with this spell, sometime before their marriage. I would have loved to learn how that came about. Whatever method you plan to kill them . . . it's your choice. Killing them one at a time was merely a suggestion." Ms. McNeill glanced away from the camera. "Anyway, it's time for me to go. I . . ." She paused, as an impish smile curved her lips. "I bet you're still wondering who is the new Source in my dimension, aren't you?"
The thought had crossed Aretemus' mind, but he remained silent.
The warlock continued. "Let me put it to you this way. Once my Belthazor and I have finished, the Power of Three will no longer exist . . . at least in my world." Her smile brightened. "Good luck and have a nice day." The computer screen went blank.
A stunned Artemus slowly clicked off the Windows Media function. He leaned back into his chair with a gust of breath. "Did she just say that the Charmed Ones ruled the Source's Realm in her world?" Prax demanded.
"She did, indeed," Artemus replied quietly.
Prax asked, "Now that Belthazor is dead, what do we do about Mark Giovanni?"
Artemus sighed. "To be honest, we no longer need Mr. Giovanni. With Belthazor gone, the protection ward around the property no longer exists. Have some of our members start searching the ground for the object in question. If Mr. Giovanni raises a fuss, Klymus shall kill him."
The young daemon nodded. "What about the Charmed Ones? Shall I go after them?"
"No. Leave them to me." Artemus picked up the white envelope. "Thanks to Ms. McNeill, I have an idea on how to deal with the witches. And with that brat that belongs to the oldest sister. I must say, Prax . . . that is one amazing young woman."
Doubt crept into Prax's voice. "Do you think that the McNeill warlock will be successful in becoming co-ruler of the Source's Realm?"
Artemus allowed himself a small smile. "Prax, Ms. McNeill had managed to kill a powerful daemon, a powerful witch, a very powerful half-daemon and anyone else in less than two days. I would say that her chances were more than good. Wouldn't you?"
END OF CHAPTER 11
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