Day/Theme: May 17 The coldest eyes and the cruelest hands
Character/Pairing: Wyatt, Chris, Bianca, Lyn
Word Count: 448
Written For: 31_days
“Bianca,” Lyn gasped as Bianca limped through the door, clutching her arm close to her chest. She dropped onto the couch. “Honey, are you okay?”
“Fine,” Bianca growled, barely glimpsing at her mother.
“No, you’re hurt,” Lyn corrected.
“Just my shoulder. My foot’s okay, I can still walk.”
With a concerned look Lyn circled around her daughter, inspecting her arm before placing her hands on her shoulder and snapping it back into place. Bianca cried out at the pain it caused.
“You let your guard down. Why were you so distracted?” her mother interrogated.
“You didn’t see who I was up against,” Bianca retorted.
“Why don’t you fill me in?”
“He had the coldest eyes and the cruelest hands. He had me dangling in the air, strangling my throat internally. I could have died if he didn’t have to orb off somewhere.”
“He was a whitelighter? Are you absolutely sure, Bianca? They’re not meant to hurt people.”
“I don’t know, mom,” Bianca said cynically. “Maybe I’m so hopeless that I can’t tell one species from another anymore. He could have been some freaky hybrid for all I know.”
“Do you want me to track him down?”
“No,” Bianca insisted. “He was incredibly resilient, and anyone with that much power is surely going to be a target sooner or later. There’s no reason to go after him until we get paid for it.”
“What are you looking for?” Chris asked, watching his older brother from the attic doorway as he hurriedly flicked through the Book of Shadows.
“Just something I saw,” Wyatt answered, skimming the page.
“Anything I can help with?”
Curiosity arising, Chris made his way over to the edge of the dais, peering down to see what Wyatt was looking at.
“You were gone a while. Did you see it there?” Chris pressed. Wyatt looked up to him, giving an adamant nod of his head.
“I’m trying to find the witch that attacked me,” he explained.
“You were attacked? Are you okay?” Chris asked with concern.
“Yeah, apart from the fact she tried to slice me open with a dagger. She had the coldest eyes and the cruelest hands… and a mark on her wrist. I know I’ve seen it before, in here.”
“You’ve even looked in that thing before?” Chris jibed.
“Yes,” Wyatt answered scathingly. He flicked over another page, finding the red mark painted onto the paper, stopping as his eyes roamed over the text of the Phoenix witches. “Great, she’s an assassin. That’s all I need – a professional hit-woman trying to kill me along with everybody else.”
“Should we tell mom?” Chris asked.
“Do I have a choice?” Wyatt followed.