Third Time Charmed

A Fight to Remember (Part 1)

When the Source Flamed into his private chamber, the air thickened, and the ground trembled. Power seeped off him in waves. From beneath her enforced veil of invisibility, the Oracle groaned internally. Her master was in one of his moods. She would need to be careful with her words today.

"May I be seen?" she barely got out, when a chalk-white hand was thrust in her direction from beneath the Source's heavy black robes. The force of the magic sent her way hit her as if she'd been backhanded, but her golden bikini dress-clad body became visible atop her table.

"Speak!" the Source demanded in his deep and intimidating bass.

"Your rivals are becoming restless. They seek to—"

"Not them!" the Underworld's ruler boomed. "I'm well aware of what those fools are conspiring. Tell me about my real enemies!"

The Oracle gazed into her crystal ball, then advised, "Belthazor remains elusive, but the witch has taken a break from her relentless pursuit. It's unclear why, but it seems that now is the time to strike."

The Source approached the woman, extending a pale hand from beneath his black robes when in range of her. "It seems?" he repeated in a dangerous tone.

"Nothing is certain when it comes to the Charmed Ones; you know this," she croaked in fear as her master's clawed hand swept her side ponytail aside and flexed dangerously near her neck. She hadn't foreseen her death today, but the future was ever-changing.

The Source turned his back on her. "Send the Shocker," he growled.

"The Shocker? You want them dead now? I thought you had decided to take their powers, to prove your—"

"I have already disposed of one loyal subject for questioning me today. Do not make me do the same to you, Oracle."

"I do not mean to question you, My Liege, only to seek clarity."

"As much as I would like to get my hands on the Charmed Ones' powers, the matter is becoming pressing," the Source explained. "What with Belthazor and the witch's vanquishing spree, factions are forming to challenge me. Since you cannot foresee a way for me to get the witches' powers, killing them becomes the plan once more. I'd sooner see them dead and the Underworld in ruins than allow my opponents to supplant me."

The Oracle gulped. She hadn't seen her master like this before. He wasn't himself. He was worried, speaking recklessly. She stared into her crystal ball, trying to divine the outcome of the electrical assassin's actions. Yes. The Shocker could do it. The potential was there, but while usually bringing instant death to mortals, the witches would be somewhat resistant to his powers.

The key would be getting one of them alone, but even with them separated, the pesky Whitelighter's influence created uncertainty. Alas, it was unclear to the Oracle how this fresh attempt on the Charmed Ones' lives would pan out, but if the Shocker failed, it would not bode well for the Underworld, or indeed for her.

***

With his left arm supported in a sling, Cole paced, or more like limped, around his latest makeshift hideout, the backroom of a small cemetery chapel. He was lucky to have found the spot. It wasn't in use most days, and being on consecrated grounds, it afforded him the same protections as the mausoleum, allowing him to stay hidden from bounty hunters so long as he didn't use his powers, while being warmer and more comfortable.

There was a small bathroom with a toilet and basin, and even a couch to sleep on. It was too short for his long body, but Cole could hardly complain about his legs dangling over the end when it made such a welcome change from the norm—a thin blanket on a concrete slab. All things considered, the space was ideal for him while recuperating from his recent injuries. Even so, his patience was wearing thin.