Charmed. Cole and Phoebe Guardian Series.How quaint the ways of paradox?

Charmed. How quaint the ways of Paradox Chapter 33

Part 3: The more things change

Chapter 33

"How quaint the ways of paradox; At common sense she gaily mocks" (Gilbert and Sullivan. Pirates of Penzance)

Cole shimmered away from Arturo's house feeling lost and ill at ease not knowing what to do with himself. After a little time he found himself on the Caribbean beach where just a week ago, a life time ago, Arturo had told him of his destiny. And as he sat on the white sanded beach he could not helping thinking back over the long path that had lead him to accepting that destiny, reluctantly, which inevitably lead him to thinking of the witch who he knew as Flip.

Cole had come across her in early 1947. He had been trolling around San Francisco, which was not one of his usual haunts, really just looking for mischief, as much as anything, just wanting a break from the world of dark. The years of the war and the after effects had offered plenty of scope for evil but its defeat and the blood bath that had happened had left him feeling discontent and restless almost, although at the time he would not admit it, repelled by what had happened. It had been out of proportion, it had not been a game.

Cole had found his way to a local community dance in one of the older bay side suburbs, to watch the mortals play and see what damage he could do. He had been there for an hour or so when he had noticed a girl standing on the edge of the crowd. She was quite young and dressed in a floral dress that was to old for her. She was dark haired and dark eyed and quite pretty but he would not have described her as beautiful. She wore to much make up, like a little girl who had raided her mother's dresser. She was watching the dancers and swaying in time to the music, eyes darting around, as if praying for some one to ask her to dance. Cole decided to give her a thrill. He went up to her and asked her to dance. She glanced behind her as if she could not believe that this tall handsome man was asking her.

She was not very tall. Even in high heels, he could look straight over her head and he had had to dismiss a quite unfamiliar protective instinct. She had melted into his arms and with very little encouragement proceeded to tell him in a most unsophisticated manner, how she had slipped out from home when her family had forbidden her to come out.

It had taken very little persuasion to get her to slip outside with him and he had swept her into a passionate kiss that was calculated to frighten the daylights out of her. Only her reaction had been to totally respond to him and for a few seconds he had given into something very sweet. It was only when they stopped for breath that his senses had started to tingle with the warning he always felt when he was near witches and other minions of light. His hands on her arms had squeezed a little to hard and she yelped.

The next kiss he held back a little trying to assess her and it took only moments to recognise her as a very low level witch with very few powers. He could have killed her then and there but it was not his way to kill low level witches just for the sake of killing. There was no challenge and he enjoyed a worthy opponent. Belthezor who could kill without conscience somehow always managed to find ways not to do it for a reason that made him seem more evil and powerful. Deep inside he worried that this reluctance might one day be recognised by Raynor or the Source for the weakness he knew it to be.

But for a little while at least this little witch was safe from him killing her. He kissed her some more and made a pact to meet her the dance next week where he had every intention of seducing her. He walked her back up the hills in San Francisco to a large red Manor house where she kissed him passionately goodbye and ran up the side way, while he became very aware that weak as the little witch was, the house itself had a huge aurora of magic and Belthezor knew that here was a very powerful protection.

He hung around the area that week. He barely had a glimpse of the little witch and when he did she was accompanied by other women who had no doubt were witches. Belthezor had the definite impression that she was very well protected normally and her presence at the dance alone was unusual. The idea of playing around with magic in the house and the witches appealed to him greatly.