The War on Witches (12 page)

Phoebe appreciated the woman's bold move in protecting her own. Following an attack, this woman had no idea what they had arrived to do and she was still willing to fight for her family of witches. And she was going to do it without her powers as well. Phoebe assumed the crying had to do with them figuring out what had happened. “It's okay,” she said. “We're here to help.”

She held her hands up in the traditional pose to show they were unarmed and the witches moved back. Holding hands up in these circles meant something totally different and Phoebe was quick to put her arms down at her sides lest they think she was about to throw a fireball at them or something worse. “Sorry. Forgot my audience.”

“You still haven't told us who you are,” the woman said, still holding back with her coven.

“We're the Charmed Ones,” Paige said as if that explained everything.

Apparently, it did, because the women in white immediately relaxed and smiles broke across a few of their faces. “
The
Charmed Ones?” the dark-haired woman asked. “The Warren Witches?”

“We go by Halliwell now,” Piper said, which elicited a polite cough from Paige. “And Matthews . . . well, Matthews-Mitchell.”

“I'm a stepsister,” Paige explained. “And a hyphenate.”

“We kept our last names,” Phoebe said with a nod to Piper. “But I'm guessing you all don't care about that right now.”

“Someone took our powers,” a woman from the back said.

The dark-haired woman stepped forward. She had a more relaxed stance now. “I'm Monica. These are my coven sisters.” Phoebe smiled as Monica introduced the women by name, making note of each one and filing it for later. She met so many people in her travels that she'd become very good at committing names to memory because there was always a chance she was going to run into them again.

Piper returned the introductions by sharing her and her sister's names, which turned out to be unnecessary.

“Oh, we know all about you three,” Monica said. “And your sister is back? Prue?”

“Guess it's not just the demon grapevine that's spreading the word,” Phoebe said.

“Yes,” Piper said tentatively. “Yes, she is. In fact, she's the one that sent us to you. She's the one that told us about your powers being stolen.”

“Couldn't have gotten here sooner to stop it, could you?” a voice said from the back of the group.

“Vanessa!” Monica rolled her eyes. “Sorry about that. I'd like to blame that outburst on the fact that we've all been through a traumatic experience, but she's always like that.”

“I thought that one got premonitions,” Vanessa said, pointing at Phoebe.

“It doesn't always work on demand,” Phoebe retorted. “Which you should know if you're really a practicing witch.”

“We know,” Monica said. “It's just . . . not a good time for us right now. One of our sisters is in a difficult position. We were trying to help her tonight through our magical bond. Having our powers taken from us on this, of all nights, makes things more complicated. Do you know what's going on?”

“Some,” Piper said. “We're working out the rest. Can you tell us what happened here?”

Phoebe listened as Monica shared her story, growing agitated as she heard the details. It was fairly concise and shocking all the same. Six people had come out of the woods with six different Books of Light. They were long gone before the coven had regained consciousness to discover they could no longer call upon their active powers. Monica concluded the tale at the moment the Charmed Ones arrived. By that point, Phoebe couldn't speak—she was so afraid to put what she was thinking into words.

“Was this guy part of the group?” Piper held out the drawing of Austin that Alysha had provided.

Monica shook her head. “I didn't see him.”

She shared the drawing with the rest of her coven, but none of them recognized the face.

“What about a man with long, dark hair?” Paige asked, recalling the description of the gunman from the police report. “Anyone like that?”

Six heads all shook in response.

Phoebe finally found her voice. “There may be clues in the forest. You all wait here while we look.” She grabbed her sisters and pulled them into the trees.

“Hey,” Paige said as she was dragged along. “It's dark in there.”

“Oh, light some orbs,” Phoebe said once they were safely out of earshot of the coven.

“What is it?” Piper asked, seeing the concern on her sister's face even in the darkness.

“It's happening,” Phoebe said. “The witch hunts.”

“Yeah,” Paige said. “For a day now. Where've you been?”

“No,” Phoebe insisted. “The
witch hunts.
We saw this coming. Ten years ago. Prue, Piper, and I traveled to this time. To a world that knew all about witches and was going after them.”

“I know the story,” Paige said. “But you stopped it from happening. That prosecutor never found out about you. Your friend is safe. You never murdered that baseball player. There are no witch trials.”

“Not yet,” Phoebe insisted. “This isn't just a couple people going after witches. This is a group. At least eight people, maybe more. It's bigger than we thought. And it's happening at roughly the same time it was supposed to happen. Yes, we stopped individual elements of the future we saw from happening, but can you ever really stop fate?”

“Yes,” Piper said. “We've stopped it, reversed it; we've made it run and hide with its tail between its legs. You're only tying this to the future we saw because it's linked to the past with Melinda Warren. History isn't repeating itself. This is just another form of evil like all the rest.”

“No,” Phoebe said. “This is different. These are humans.”

“I'm not so sure about that,” Paige said.

“Either way, we're not going to get anywhere worrying about this in the woods,” Piper said. “Now that you've pulled us out here, let's at least try to look for some clues.”

The Charmed Ones spread out to scour the area, which was fairly impossible to do in the dark night, even with the orbs Piper called up to give them some light. Phoebe wasn't sure what they were supposed to be looking for, but they'd learned long ago that clues didn't always come with an explanation. They could learn a lot from a broken branch or even a discarded piece of trash.

If there really were such a thing as witch-scene investigators, as Paige had joked the other day, there'd be no telling what they could discover. As it stood, the Charmed Ones were probably some of the best detectives in the magical community. Even with the light of the orbs, it was difficult to make anything out in the shadows of the trees. Phoebe thought she saw something moving in the grass and leaned in to investigate closer, only to find it was a huge rodent. She took a sudden step back and tripped over the root of a tree. Falling, she held out a hand to steady herself and grabbed onto the trunk of that same tree. She stayed on her feet and was hit by flashes of imagery.

A TV screen with a national news anchor, the handsome one with the perfectly coifed hair. A chyron below his talking head read: Are Witches Real?

Cut to a blurry video of what looked to be a demon attacking patrons of an art gallery.

Close-up of Alysha very clearly revealing her powers to the world.

The images disappeared from Phoebe's mind, replaced by her sisters in front of her looking concerned.

“It's happening,” Phoebe said. “Magic is about to be revealed to the world.”

Austin was underdressed. He stood out in his jeans and T-shirt mingling among the suits and fancy dresses at the art gallery. But that was the least of his concerns. He was back in Philadelphia, the city where he was wanted as an accomplice to an accidental shooting at a museum. Not that that was even his biggest concern. The more problematic issue was that Isaac was somewhere in the vicinity with his ability to teleport that could put him right beside Austin without warning.

It was hard enough to believe that witches were real, but Austin couldn't begin to guess what Isaac truly was. The man wasn't saying, if he was even a man at all. Either way, there was a lot more at stake here than some families with a centuries-long grudge against witches.

Austin knew that Isaac had been using them all. That much was obvious from the start. But how would Emily and Jacob and the others feel if they knew that Isaac had dark powers of his own? Powers that were probably even darker than the abilities that witches possessed. There was no doubt in Austin's mind any longer: They weren't on some noble mission to rid the world of the evils of witchcraft. Isaac had his own agenda. One that made Austin consider witches in a different light.

None of that mattered at the moment. All Austin could focus on was the danger he was in. The danger they were
all
in. Isaac had teleported him to this event for a reason. They weren't there to take in the artwork.

It was a rare piece of luck that they weren't at Austin's college campus. Less chance he'd run into anyone he knew at this gallery showing of a professor's artwork. Students and faculty mixed and mingled as the caterers walked among them with champagne and hors d'oeuvres, weaving in and out of the maze of temporary white walls with splashes of color on them.

The police were probably out in force scouring the campus of Austin's school looking for him. His college ID was probably plastered up in the campus security office and handed out to all the officers. If he managed to get out of this situation alive without being expelled or incarcerated, the first thing he was going to do was get a new photo taken. The odds were slim that his photo was going to be used on any kind of all points bulletin ever again, but he wanted to be prepared just in case.

Security might have been alerted to him at the art school as well. It was possible that Alysha was under protection in case he came back. He doubted anyone would really expect him to show up at her school. That would have been foolish, considering the authorities had to be on the lookout; it would be almost as bad as returning to the scene of the crime.

Austin had used all that logic on Isaac, trying to convince him to teleport them someplace else. He had dozens of followers who would be more than willing to take Austin's place. But Isaac insisted: it had to be Austin. Then again, that could work in Austin's favor. A plan was forming as he finally saw his target.

Some people looked better when dressed up, while others were more attractive in casual clothes. That wasn't true about Alysha. At the museum she wore jeans and a sweatshirt. Both were smudged with charcoal from her drawing. Tonight she was in the fanciest dress an art student could afford. Both times, her natural beauty shined through. She wasn't conventionally attractive, but neither was Austin. But there was something about Alysha that lit up the room, and it had nothing to do with the magical witch powers Isaac said that she possessed.

Alysha hadn't seen him so far, which was probably for the best. Now it was a question of how to make an approach without freaking her out. He didn't need her shouting for security before he could even say hello.

The gallery worked in his favor. Partitions had been set up at odd angles to showcase the artwork. Where there weren't walls, there were enough patrons milling about to block him from view. A few sidesteps followed by a circular route around a wall found him right in front of a picturesque painting of some mythical land where unicorns frolicked with fairies and a rainbow melted into a pool. With all that Austin had seen lately, it was possible that the land in the picture was as real as he was, but he preferred to think of it as a fantasy. It was easier to stomach.

Alysha stood alone, admiring the work.

Austin took a deep breath and said a silent prayer to a power he didn't believe in. “If I promise I'm not here to hurt you, will you promise not to scream?”

He thought he saw the barest uptick of a smile on the edge of her lip. “Depends,” she said. “Are you worried I'll scream for the police or just scream at you for ruining a perfectly productive afternoon at the museum?”

“Both?” he said.

“What do you think of that painting?” she asked, refusing to look at him.

The question was unexpected, to say the least. “It's . . . cheery?”

“Yes. Yes, it is,” she replied. “It would look perfect in a child's bedroom, but since Professor Minrova is head of the art department, we all have to come out to
ooh
and
ah
at his work.”

Austin allowed himself his own smile. “That's not what brought me to this gallery.”

Alysha finally turned to face him. Any hint of a smile was gone. “Coming here was stupid. You should be at least a couple hundred miles away.”

“I was actually three hundred miles away a few minutes ago,” Austin replied. “Bet you know at least a couple ways I could have gotten here so fast.”

Now came the fear. She was trying not to show it, but it was there in her eyes and the slight tremble in her hand. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“It's okay, Alysha,” Austin said, taking her arm. He guided her toward a quiet corner of the gallery. “I'm honestly not here to hurt you. I need your help.”

“You try to shoot me the other day and now you want my help?”

“I wasn't . . . I didn't have the gun.”

“You were with the guy that did.”

“Yes and no,” Austin said, checking to make sure Isaac wasn't near. “I was with him, but not really. He's dangerous. I've gotten myself into something that I didn't intend to. And you're wrapped up in it too. But if we work together—”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Because you don't have a choice,” Austin said. “Look, Isaac's insane. And he's got magic too. He can teleport. Maybe do other things. I don't know. What I do know is that he's got a video camera. He wants me to force you to reveal your powers so he can record it and give it to the media. He wants to out you as a witch.”

“You've got to be kidding,” Alysha said.

“I'm not.”

“Look, Austin—that's your name, right? Or were you lying to me at the museum?”

“It's my name,” he said.

“You may or may not already know this, but I come from a long line of witches,” she said. “I learned to hide my magic before I even learned to control it. Do you honestly think I'm just going to whip out a light show in the middle of a crowded gallery? My magic makes for a pretty show, but it's nothing useful. What's the plan anyway? Did Isaac think you could scare me into putting on a fireworks display?”

“He said he'd leave it up to me to figure out. That I should get you talking and find out a way to get you to use your magic. But that's not the point—”

Alysha laughed. “You're kidding, right? Your partner has some big scheme to reveal that witches are real to the world and it all comes down to small talk? That's a pathetic plan.”

“He's not my partner.” Austin was speaking to Alysha, but his eyes were scanning the room. “And you're right. It's not a plan at all. Which means Isaac's up to something else. We've got to get out of here.”

Austin moved toward the back exit, which was just around the partition. When he turned to make sure Alysha was with him, he was surprised to see that she hadn't moved. “Are you coming?”

Alysha stayed were she was, about eight feet away. “Look, Austin, you seem like a nice-enough guy who pals around with questionable friends, but there's no way I'm going anywhere with you.”

“We've got to leave,” he insisted.

“I get that,” she replied. “It's not safe here. Message received. But I'm not going with you. You're cute and all. I'm enjoying the chat, weird as it may be. Still, there is no way in hell I'm going out some back exit to some dark alley with a total stranger. So just continue on your way and I'll go mine. There's a security station in the quad outside the gallery. I'm taking the front door and heading there.”

Austin couldn't imagine what campus security could do in this kind of situation, but he wasn't about to argue. He considered forcing her to go with him, but she was not the type to go quietly and he figured they'd never get anywhere with her kicking and screaming. The only way this didn't blow back on both of them was to follow her lead.

He reached into his pocket and took out a page from the Book of Light that he'd torn out during his brief visit to headquarters to drop off the books before coming to the gallery. “Okay, fine. But take this. Keep it someplace safe. If we get separated, you need to give that to someone who can help.”

“I know just the people,” she said.

“Take care of yourself,” Austin said, resisting the urge to give her a quick kiss on the cheek that would likely wind up with him getting smacked in the face. “I'll meet up with you later.”

“I'll count the seconds,” she said, dryly.

Austin couldn't help but smile as he made his way around the partition for the back door. A sign said that it was alarmed, which stopped him for a moment before he realized that worked in his favor. An alarm going off could clear the place quickly. Not only would Alysha be safe, but so would all the potential innocent victims in the gallery as well. He gave the door a hard push, bracing for the sound, only to find it refused to budge. He pushed again. And again. No movement. No alarm.

There were only two exits from the gallery and one of them—the emergency exit—was locked. That seemed like a fairly serious fire hazard. It was possible that it was just an oversight, but it seemed more intentional than that. This was Isaac's work.

Austin took a step back and checked to make sure Alysha was making her own way out of the gallery. Everything would be okay as long as she was safe.

It took a few seconds to see her through the crowd, but Alysha had just reached the front door. There was no sign of Isaac. It was possible he was waiting for her in the quad, but the gallery with its security cameras and dozens of guests with cell phones was the best spot for the attack. If she just made it through the door, Austin felt she'd be safe.

His heart fell as he saw her push the glass door, only to step back from it a moment later. It was locked as well. She turned in his direction and their eyes met through the crowd. Any trace of humor in her expression was completely gone. She knew just how serious this was about to become.

Austin saw a fire alarm. An alarm would call for help, but it might also cause a panic inside the gallery when the patrons realized they couldn't get out and there might be a fire in the building. Security was just across the quad, as Alysha had said. They would probably have some kind of universal key that would get them into the building, but again he had to wonder what they could possibly do to stop whatever Isaac was.

It didn't matter what Austin decided. Everything stopped when the red whirlwind formed in the middle of the gallery.

Cries of fear and shock filled the gallery as the people along the edges of the room made for the exit. Austin stepped aside as the first few patrons to reach the back door slammed into it. “It's locked!” he called over the noise, hoping to stop the crowd and avoid anyone being crushed. Some listened, but most did not.

Alysha was having the same problem at the front.

Some patrons remained, transfixed by the swirling red that finally formed into a body. Austin had expected to see Isaac at the center of the maelstrom. The creature that did appear bore some resemblance to the man he had come to know, but not very much.

The
thing's
skin was red with streaks of silver. His black hair was wild and unkempt, raising inches off his head and forming two peaks around what seemed to be horns. He was taller than Isaac, by at least a foot, maybe two. When the creature turned to face Austin, there was no doubt in his mind. This was Isaac in his true form. He was some kind of monster, not a man. And his eyes blazed with fiery hate.

Before Austin could speak he watched as those eyes turned to face Alysha. She'd moved away from the doorway and was trying to hide behind a partition. People cleared the path between her and the unexpected visitor, trying to get out of the way.

The Isaac thing raised its hand—or paw—and a fireball shot toward Alysha.

“
No!
” Austin shouted.

The fireball took out the partition, destroying the serene painting of a white winged horse drinking from a moonlit pond in the process. Alysha was unharmed, but Isaac was moving toward her.

“Alysha!” Austin pushed his way through the crowd, fighting upstream, as the patrons ran toward him and away from danger. A heavily perfumed woman took him down with her overly large purse, and a man stepped on his thigh as he hit the floor.

Austin fought his way back onto his feet as the crowd continued to surge toward him. Over their heads he saw bursts of green, yellow, and red coming from the opposite end of the gallery. The gallery lights flickered with the colors as he pushed his way past the final person in time to see what was happening.

Another partition had been taken down, leaving a clear space by the front of the gallery. The area was filled with fireworks of light, a beautiful show that had absolutely no effect on the Isaac monster as it stomped its way toward Alysha. She had been right. Her power put on a nice show, but it was completely useless as a form of defense. It was going to look incredible on the security cameras filming it and the cell phones raised by the few lunatics more interested in posting this crazy fight online than concerned for their own safety.