The Mighty Belthazor

The Source grunted in pain as he used his telekinesis to pull the pull the bullets from his back, flinging them across the chamber. The wounds from the gun and being crushed by the dumpster weren't fatal by a long shot, but he'd have to summon a healer to treat them.

He'd failed. And he'd been exposed. He couldn't return to the school not, not in this form. But he wasn't finished there yet.

The Seer rayed into his chamber. "I'm beginning to wonder if you can handle your new mantle of power," she said.

"Are you questioning my leadership?" the Source snapped.

"No," the Seer said smoothly. "You inherited the world's evil, I'll follow that anywhere."

"But?"

"Belthazor. He's still alive inside you and he loves the witch," the Seer pointed out. "And his feelings for the vampire affected your judgment tonight."

"I know," he snapped. "I can feel it."

"When you were a demon," the Seer persisted, "his feelings ruined more than one good plan."

"It's different now," the Source said. "Belthazor's voice used to scream inside my head. Now it's just a whisper."

The Seer nodded. "As soon as the Wiccan Festival of Lights has passed and the moon is waning, the time will be right for your coronation. Upon completion of the oath, you will be given the full powers of the underworld."

"And then nothing will stop me from taking what I want," the Source said, finally smiling for the first time in hours.

The Seer gave the Source a concerned look, but nodded obediently.

Bel disappeared from behind the Perk in a burst of flames, bringing Angela with him. They reappeared in the common area of the empty Pangolin cabin. It was so quick that Angela didn't have much time to even think of struggling. Bel released her, but remained wearing Marty's form, grinning at her. "Surprise," he said.


[ooc: locked to chasingangela and very much with the NFB!]

The Source stood in the doorway to the bedroom, watching Phoebe sleep. He idly bounced a ball of fire in his hand. He should kill her and be done with it. The Charmed Ones were his greatest enemy. They could possess the power to vanquish him. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

It was Belthazor's fault. He knew it would be a risk, dealing with a human soul. But the opportunity had been there, and at the Seer's urging he had taken it. There were rituals in the Grimoire that would help him, fully subjugate the soul and secure his power, but they needed time to prepare for.

In the meantime, the witch would live. But there were ways to bring even such a force of good under his sway.

He moved to the kitchen, waving his hand to conjure up several vials of liquid and herbs, along with a small cauldron. Holding out his arm, he used the athame to cut into his own flesh and let the blood drip into the cauldron. He poured a few more ingredients into the cauldron and mixed it with the tip of the dagger. Smoke rose, and he eyed the smoke detector in the room warily. But it didn't go off.

He poured the mixture into a glass. It would taste awful, but he could convince Phoebe to drink it. Cold medicine tasted just as bad, after all, and she was still recovering from her illness. He could sense the pull of evil on her, and the tonic would increase that until she was firmly in his power.

The doctor had been dealt with, and the angel would be too distracted by grief to sense his presence. The Source had plans to deal with Angel eventually. Anders was an obedient pet and a pleasing diversion. Things were going well.

He could feel Belthazor struggling within him, finally realizing what had been happening. He was horrified by what had been done to Dr. Wilson and by his betrayals of Phoebe and treatment of Anders. But he wasn't strong enough to stop him. The Source would keep him under control and play his role here at the school until he was ready to reclaim the Underworld and reestablish his rule there. Then nothing could stop him.

He returned to the bedroom, settling on the bed next to Phoebe. She stirred and sleepily looked up at him. "Drink this, sweetheart," he said softly, handing her the glass. "It will make you feel better, I promise."