Precious Illusions

part 10

"Take my hand," he instructed, gently extending his own to her in the dark, reaching for her as calmly as he could manage, his eyes adjusting to and observing her outline in the vast array of nothingness, her pretty face a clear conglomeration of unconditional fear. "Phoebe."

"Cole?"

"Now," he urged, "or we're going to become its next meal."

"What the hell is it?"

"Surma." He shut his eyes, wincing a bit, as he tilted his head to the side in concentration. "I think."

"Surma? What is that like some kind of otherworldly woogyman?"

"From what I've learned of the mythology, it isn't supposed to strike unless it’s commanded to."

"By who? Who commands this thing? Did you know this was gonna be here?"

"I'm guessing your sisters didn't fill you in on this part."

"Well, gee, Cole, ya think?" She finally managed to find his hand in the immense void of darkness, clamping hers down upon it with all the strength she could muster, clinging as if she'd never let go. "How come you couldn't sense it?"

"I was wondering the same thing."

She raised an eyebrow. "Got a light?"

"Quiet."

Her brow creased rather slightly, as it displayed a deep sense of puzzlement. "What? Again?"

"Just..." He held out his other hand, as if to level the vacant air, his eyes closing to generate some focus. "Be quiet."

"No. We need to get out of here. I am not standing around waiting for this thing to come after us. We're leaving, we're going, we're out of here."

"You are," he smugly corrected, determination written all over his gorgeous complexion. "I'm going to shimmer you out and come back alone. If I can find out where it is, I'm going to see if I can draw it out, an-"

"You are not!" She ardently objected, her voice somewhat hollow and still cloaked in immense worry. "And we're not going to have some pointless argument about it. The love of my life is not ending up dead to save some woman from the long gone days of music and glamour. Oh, no, pal, not in this lifetime. We leave together. See, in case you're wondering, together means two people. If it were just one, it wouldn't be called together now, would it?"

"Phoebe."

"Together, Cole, or not at all. We don't know where it is, what it wants, or who else might be in here with it."

"I think I've already formulated a pretty good guess."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Okay, so now there's more you're nothing telling me. Great, I just knew you'd do this. You always do this."

"Trust me, it's for a good cause."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Apparently something else escaped you when your brain wasn't screwed on too tight."

"And that would be?"

"I haven't gotten to that part yet, but when I do, you're going to wish you hadn't even asked."

"Close your eyes."

"Huh?"

"Just close them." When she did as he'd instructed, he took his free hand, projecting its movement in a circular pattern, as he vividly set the entire room aglow, bathing it in a bright orange sheen, softly and quietly illuminating the darkest crevices. It was very nearly blinding, as the contents were reluctantly revealed, showering and greeting themselves with the vibrant light, accepting and finally bathing in its glory. A black and white photo had been gently tacked upon the stone wall, its edges slightly crinkled, its appearance weathered from years gone by, the image incredibly faded. Another photo of the same quality rested directly below the first, the man's facial features instantly recognizable, if not a spitting image of the one standing before it now, an eyebrow raised at the remnants believed to have been lost in time. Surrounding the two photographs were more that sealed and classified the era as one of prominence, and yet one of an aching sadness that almost threatened to overpower its meaning with the tragedy it evoked, war and death reaching out and claiming innocent lives with its contagious fingertips.

"Do you ever take a bad picture?"

Ignoring her, he struggled to mask the frustration he felt. "There's nothing here."

Phoebe shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't exactly say that. I mean, there's no monster, but someone sure wanted us to think there was. And all this stuff...I guess the same person more or less beat us to the punch. Or, well, hey, it could even be a thing, right? Something? We still don't know."

"I do," he whispered. "And they weren't trying to save her."

"What?"

"In fact, I'd bet framing her for the murder of poor Derek fell right on the money."

"So that's really her in that photo? The one right by yours?"

He nodded. "A sacrifice might have been needed, or at least contributed to giving her life again. And the law firm, well, it's convenient, isn't it? The perfect place to shield your less than acceptable activities from a watchful eye, because everybody knows lawyers always have something to hide."

"Yeah, see, now you're scaring me again."

"You should be scared," he said quietly, almost painfully, as he hesitantly extended a finger to one of the photos, gently running his thumb over the surface.

"Yeah, well, I'm still going to take my chances. You're usually a good bet. Those newspaper clippings," she started, indicating the pile seated near the top of the wall, rustling slightly in the faint breeze she'd provoked, "isn't that her father?"

"I worked alone," he clarified. "I was supposed to do this alone. He sent me out with specific instructions, and I was- I was supposed to carry them out by myself. No interference."

"I'm not really catching on."

"Phoebe, I think her father is the least of our worries."

"Okay, that sounds bad."

"He tracked her," he explained, allowing his index finger to point to the shrine before them, as he ran his other hand cleanly across his jawline, clearly perplexed and yet failing to find the amusement at the same time, his composure almost tiring of the sight completely. "Of course, we'd only met once or twice, and I probably didn't make the best impression now, did I? No, of course not- I...I mean, here he was, probably after the same thing, and I was the one who destroyed it. Her."

"So it's a grudge?"

"It's Arvo Jalo."

"Arvo?"

"It's Finnish for value or worth."

"Okay."

"It's not his given name," Cole added, nodding. "I don't think anyone actually knows what it is. Jalo means noble or gracious. Her mother's background isn't the key after all."

"So this is basically a guy who thinks he's God's gift with a bunch of gracious worth."

"You could say that," he mused carefully, pursing his lips.

"And I'm guessing he won't be in the Book Of Shadows."

"He went undetected for quite some time."

"That would be a no then, huh?" She scrunched up her nose rather briefly, crossing her arms over her chest. "What is he?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Demon, human, destined to become the new Source of all evil?"

He laughed quietly to himself in spite of the situation, his eyes resting on hers. "Oh, he's so much more than that."

"And he had a connection to her?"

"Obsession, is more like it. Of course, you could argue that I did at some point, too, but we'll just save those wonderful stories for another day."

"What is he?" she asked again, more persistent this time.

"He's a life demon."

She paused for just a moment, her pretty face pondering the given information, silently mulling it over in her head. "A life demon. Great. Sure. Makes perfect sense, doesn't it? Don't wanna mess with those guys."

He smiled. "You have absolutely no idea what they're capable of, do you?"

"Okay, not a clue."

"They can heal and they have the power to resurrect. Which, as it so happens, fits the bill down to the last detail."

"Like people?"

"People," he confirmed, tossing her a glance, willingly acknowledging the guess. "Only thing is, they have rules just like anyone or anything else. They're not supposed to be able to bring back someone who's been dead for more than a year."

"Oh, well, I'd say we've got a little loophole with that one then, don't you think?"

"But here's the catch," he continued, his smile growing wider, "the older and more...well-versed life demons can resurrect a person that's been gone even longer than that. Powers grow stronger, they adapt better to their surroundings- learn to master the craft...like you and your sisters."

"It just keeps getting better, doesn't it?"

"They can also replicate."

"Which means some of them can probably be in two places at once."

"Yes, but Arvo Jalo doesn't work like that. He wouldn't want any...other half taking away his brilliance. He prides himself on a job well done, and he wants it to stay that way. Unfortunately, I think I just crossed his path."

"You don't sound too broken up about that," she noted casually, giving him a quick grin.

"Maybe if he were human," Cole surmised. "But Derek was just a means to an end. Arvo needed space to set up shop, and Derek was the guy to help him. Only, I'd wager he likely didn't know it at the time."

"Or maybe he started to know too much and got himself killed." She sighed. "The question is, how are we going to tell Laurel? She's skeptical about you as it is, and I really don't think she ready to jump on the spooky little bandwagon yet."

"You and your sisters could summon him, couldn't you?"

"I-"

"I need more, Phoebe."

"Maybe it's just a relief that he's not after you. Have you even thought about that? Usually one of these demons decides you'd make a nice lunch buffet and then we're all in danger. But it looks like he might need us, at least for a little while, until he can finally get his hands on her. Could buy us some time."

"You mean because he obviously knows we're already trying to help her? When you look at it that way, buffet isn't really too far off."

She just glared at him. "So you want me to do a spell."

"Draw him out, and I'll take care of the rest."

"Do you even know how to vanquish him?"

"No, but I can find out."

"Yeah, well, not if you're dead, Cole."

"Protect Laurel. She's the one who-"

"You do, too," she argued.

"Yes, but Laurel's mortal, Phoebe. She can't exactly defend herself against a life demon now, can she?"

She was quiet for a moment, her brown eyes searching for the tolerance she knew she owed him, whether she was in favor of his solution or not. "No. No I guess she can't."

" And because of that, you and your sisters, Andy...you have to keep an eye on her. It's important that you do if I can't be there."

"Technically, though, she's your responsibility," she pointed out. "You two are both bound to the past, and the only other person- sorry thing, who knows about that past is Arvo Jello, right?"

"Jalo," he corrected, throwing her a smirk.

"Jalo, okay, got it."

"I'm also concerned about Alex."

"Alex, why? What's going on with Alex? Last I heard, this doesn't have anything to do with our daughter, Cole."

"I think her powers are growing," he replied, making sure he met her gaze entirely, his blues connecting with her brown eyes, the slightest bit of apprehension etched carefully behind them.

"What do you mean? I thought the only powers she h-"

"She knew exactly where I was taking Laurel when we shimmered out of the house last night. She said it was dark there and people slept all the time."

"Cole, it's a cemetery. Of course people are going to be asleep all the time. It doesn't mean anything. Just a general statement from a little girl who's had her fair share of things that aren't exactly the norm."

"But how did she know where I was taking her? It doesn't make sense. You've got the power of premonition, but you have to touch objects, get a feel for what's going to happen to them, to...whoever possesses them. She already knew without doing anything."

"And you think it's an extension of my power?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I think it's a possibility we need to look into. Maybe Leo can talk to the Elders about it."

"And why don't I believe they'll be a lot of help?"

"You've got a point there."

"You think this was given to her in order to help us solve this?"

"I don't think it's temporary," he reasoned honestly. "I'm still leaning toward inheritance. Either way, Arvo and I still need to sit down and have our little heart to heart."

"And you're still not convinced that there's even a chance he may have been following you because he wanted to save her? Wanted you to save her?"

"A demon's agenda isn't any different now than it was then. He's not out to claim himself as her savior. If there were any bit of truth to that, he'd waste no time getting to her. Apparently, he's stalling."

"Yours is."

"I guess I'm the one exception- and okay, I'm not exactly a half-demon anymore, not to mention any kind of demon anymore. Can we please get past that?"

"Just trying to cover all the bases here."

"Belthazor's history can't possibly compare to mine. All the good I've done since then..."

"That's what I meant. You changed, and you're better for it."

"You know, this collection is kind of impressive," he started to remark, then immediately caught sight of the look she wore upon her face. "If it...didn't bear a connection to a killer who also just happens to be a demon."

"A demon working with Surma."

"Surma isn't for him to control. He probably mimicked it."

"Well, bravo, good cheer." The voice very nearly emerged from nowhere; it's piercing tone slicing through the emptiness of the room like a sharp knife, a tall figure calmly stepping out from the stone wall, his long black coat trailing quietly behind him. His eyes were a rare hue of violet, thick, dark brown hair flowing down to the bottom of his neck, framing a youthful face. A very beautiful and almost delicate face, Phoebe noted, as she watched him walk over to stand directly in front of them, his black boots coming to a nice and even halt. He appeared to be around Cole's height, his attire consisting of a white t-shirt underneath a rather worn plaid shirt that was torn in a few places, a pair of equally destroyed jeans completing the wardrobe. "And all that other stuff, too, right?"

"See, I knew he wouldn't like the spell idea. Had to draw him out." Cole softly laughed, as he placed his lean frame against the wall, crossing his feet at the ankles. "He hates being summoned when it's not by his own accord. Isn't that right, Arvo?"

"Oh, I'm not the bad guy here, Cole. I'm also not the one who spent a better part of my life being extra naughty."

Cole narrowed his eyes, letting his arms fall swiftly across his chest. "I'll decide what you are and where you're going. And right now, the court isn't exactly ruling in your favor. So why don't you pretend to pull up a chair and get cozy?"

"You really think you could stop me if I wanted out?"

"It depends on what you mean, because I'm all for a good, solid vanquish these days. Of course, there are other ways..."

"Your wench here was right."

"Hey!" Phoebe objected, eyes widening. "Watch it there, buddy."

"You can hurt me all you want, man, but I came for her. We both know it." He gestured with a hand on either side, taking another step forward. "C'mon. Work with me here. I compromise a little you compromise a little. In the end, everybody wins. I get a deal, you get a deal, and nobody gets dead."

"Derek Wilkinson didn't win, did he? His body will be in the ground in a few days."

"Huh. Yeah, well, newsflash. You know, on second thought, maybe I should have it tattooed clear across your forehead. I. Didn't. Kill. Him."

"Oh, is that right?"

"Scout's honor, man. Although, technically, I've never actually been a Boy Scout. Probably killed one back in the day. Of course, that likely means he deserved it, too." He shot him a light grin. "I have to say though, you seem to have done quite well for yourself. Me, on the other hand...well, it's hard, but I manage. Really loving the nightlife. And, you know, what can I say? The women just can't get enough."

"This is his office." Cole ignored any attempt at humor or ridicule on his opponent's part. "Like it or not, Arvo, everything's already pointing to you. It's over, we're done. They'll throw away the key. No more games."

"Is that what you think this is?"

"You brought a woman back from the dead. A woman you knew-"

"Did you rip a few pages out of the storybook, dude? I don't do that kind of magic anymore. I haven't for a long time. I'm cured."

"Cured?"

"I'm on the road to making things right."

"He actually doesn't seem all that dangerous," Phoebe commented, shrugging.

"Mythology, remember? You're not that far off," he continued, shooting her a wink.

"And you applied your name to it," Cole added, "so what? It still doesn't-"

"Now that's where you're wrong. I didn't even have a part in bringing her back. I might wear it proudly, but I sure as hell don't flaunt it."

"Sorry, I'm not buying this. Maybe if we go a few rounds, it might knock something loose. Hey, it's worth a shot, right?"

Arvo gently ran a hand through his hair, his brows lifting themselves in amazement. "Yeah, and you're sure hard on a guy who only wants to help."

"What aren't you saying?"

"We were big, bad, nasty demons once, you figure it out."

"You're still a demon. I'm not. There's a difference. And I can't really speak for you, because, quite frankly, I don't really want to."

"Oh, like I can't have feelings anymore? Well, boohoo. I'm sorry you hopped aboard the wallowing train of self-pity. And I'm sorry it keeps rejecting you. But get over it. Nobody likes somebody who sucks the fun out of everything."

"Who wants Laurel, and why?"

"Well, you already know part of that now, don't you? With all due respect, they didn't bring her back to save her, Cole."

"To kill her?"

"They needed something," he whispered, his expression residing to one of pure seriousness, his hands clasping themselves together in front of him. "And you might say Benjamin Turner got the ball rolling."

"This has to do with my father?" Cole asked him, somewhat startled, his handsome, unshaven profile displaying lucent incredulity.

"What became of your father before you were able to free him."

"I don't get it," Phoebe spoke up, "Ben Turner's soul was imprisoned. It was trapped in that little-"

"She's catching on," Arvo observed, abruptly cutting her off, a half smile touching his lips, his violet eyes immediately brightening. "Two points for the lady. And I'll tell you what, Cole. She's not really all that bad looking, either."

"My father has nothing to do with Laurel. He's never even met her."

"She's bait, Cole. Nothing more, nothing less. Bait. B-A-I-T. A ploy, if you will."

"For the cost of my soul?"

"Bingo! And we can move on to round two."

"They're going to kill you," Phoebe told her husband, shock finding it's way into her complexion. "Well, not you you. But...your body."

"Someone out there knows she's losing time, and the only way to keep her alive...well, I think you've finally got that covered now, don't you? No further explanation needed. Terminating request now."

"A deal gone horribly wrong," Cole confirmed, nodding. "I should have known."

"A deal someone wants to make right," Arvo interceded.

"And you're what? Our knight in shining armor who's gonna save the day?" Phoebe quipped.

"Oh, well, hey, if you insist. Not like I've got anything else planned."

"Why are you telling me all this? What's in it for you?" Cole countered.

"You mean besides the whole knight bit?"

"Arvo."

"Laurel," he said simply, as if nothing else was necessary. "And not the way you mean."

"Laurel."

"She deserves that second chance. If we can prevent all of this from coming to pass, we still might be able to save her. And...and you too, you know. You really don't think I'd let you die now, do you?"

"Isn't that sweet?" Cole sided, rolling his eyes.

"We need to get a hold of Prue," Phoebe noted.

"Oh. No need. He's coming with us." He roughly grabbed the collar of Arvo's coat.

"I am?" Arvo questioned.

"He is?" Phoebe added, very nearly in unison.

"Like I'm really going to leave you alone to plot and kill everyone I care about."

"Did I lose you somewhere in that whole big do-gooder speech? Because I could run it by you again in slow motion."

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