DEDICATION: For Suzanne: Proofreader, critic and fan of my stories. And since I lent her that video last week, a fan of Charmed also.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a sequel to Reality Bites and Parallels, but it isn't necessary to have read the first two. Any feedback appreciated. Please feel free to email me with your comments.
DISCLAIMER: Based on the Spelling Productions television show, Charmed, created by Constance M. Burge. All Charmed characters are the property of Spelling Productions, with the exception of the characters of "Liam", "Chloe" and "Lillith", which are mine.
Prologue
"Do you Liam take Phoebe to be your wife? Will you love, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others keep yourself only for her until death parts you?"
"I do."
"Do you Phoebe take Liam to be your husband? Will you love, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others keep yourself only for him until death parts you?"
"I do."
"Then by the power invested in me by the State of California, I pronounce you husband and wife. Kiss the bride."
I needed no prompting. Scooping Phoebe Newland, formerly Halliwell, into my arms, I kissed her passionately. The guests cheered and applauded, none more so than Phoebe's two bridesmaids, her sisters, Prue and Piper.
Later at the reception, the toasts had been given, the speeches made and it was time to kick back and have some fun starting with the traditional first dance for the bride and groom. The music started and I recognized the song immediately. So did Phoebe. We both laughed and looked across at her sisters whose guilty smiles revealed them as the culprits. I led Phoebe on to the dance floor to the strains of "Witchcraft."
The reception went on until 10pm and it was 10:30 before Phoebe and I escaped to our hotel room. As I unlocked the door Phoebe took a necklace from around her neck. It was a simple pendant in the letter P hanging off a black knotted cord. I recognized it as a necklace that I brought her soon after we met. She draped it over the door handle. I looked at her puzzled.
"I'll explain later," she smiled, that mischievous smile that was the redemption of demons and the downfall of angels; and just one of the reasons I loved her, "Now are you going to carry me across the threshold or not?"
In answer I swept her into my arms, kissed her and banished us both into the room."How about that?" I asked
That was my power, I could summon objects or people to me or banish them away from me. Over short distances I could control where they were banished to. I could have used the door but as Phoebe would say, "If you've got it, use it."
Half an hour later, and we were almost ready for bed, although certainly not ready to sleep, when there was a knocking on the door, "Room service."
I looked at Phoebe. We hadn't ordered room service. It could be a mistake, or it could be that we weren't even to get a peaceful wedding night.
"Wrong room," I shouted.
"Oh I don't think so," came the snarled answer, confirming my fears. There was a crash as whoever it was charged the door trying to break it down. Then suddenly there was a scream, starting loud and then fading, as if into the distance.
Five minutes passed. I ventured to the door and opened it. There was only the empty hotel corridor and Phoebe's necklace hanging on the door handle. I went back into the room. Phoebe was in bed, sitting up calmly, like she had through the whole thing. Something told me she knew what had happened. "Where's the warlock or whatever it was that was out there?" I asked, "What happened?"
"Something old," replied my wife cryptically.
Realizing that was the only answer I'd receive, at least tonight. I scrambled into bed. We kissed. For the first time in two months we were happy.
Two Months Earlier.
It had been a busy and traumatic two weeks. In fact the last month and a half had been busy and traumatic. That was when all this really started. I'd been given a promotion and had moved to a house in Wales, a house that belonged to a witch. In a moment of recklessness, I stood in the centre of a pentagram under a full moon at midnight; and recited the spell from the TV series, Charmed that had given the Charmed Ones their own powers. I soon discovered that not everything on the TV is fiction. Soon after, I made a wish to meet the Halliwells and ended up transported across realities to their attic.
Despite a warlock who followed me across in order to kill me, Phoebe and I quickly became close and almost immediately we fell in love. After vanquishing that warlock, I'd asked her to marry me. Then I'd realized that I had no government records. I was the ultimate illegal immigrant, not from another country but another reality, and it seemed circumstances would pull us apart. Then a fortnight ago, it suddenly seemed that it would not be circumstances that would part us, when, in a premonition, Phoebe saw me die.
Only it turned out, it wasn't me. There was another Liam Newland, the one who came from the Charmed Ones' own reality. The last thing he did before dying was give me his identity and his home. All he asked in return was a little favour. Kick the ass of an extremely dangerous warlock, by the name of Ryan. In a dramatic face off during a total eclipse, we'd done just that.
A week after, Phoebe and I moved into my double's old apartment, and our new place. We held the biggest housewarming party the neighbourhood had ever seen. It was 2.00 am before Phoebe and I crawled into bed.
We kissed passionately, before she pulled away, "Liam," she began, "We've been so busy, what with Ryan, and then moving in here, I haven't been able to tell you."
"What?" I asked, "We can be together now. The good ol' US government think I'm the Liam Newland of this parish. You aren't having second thoughts? I mean it was only a week and…"
She put her finger to my lips, "As I said before, you talk too much," smiled Phoebe, "I'm not having second thoughts. Remember, what happened, last time I told you that you talked too much?"
"How I could I forget?"
"Well, now you're never going to be able to," grinned my beautiful fiance, "I'm pregnant."
I was stunned. All I could do for the next thirty seconds was just sit there as I tried to take it in. Finally, I managed to form words and give voice to them "Pregnant?"
"Yes. About a month gone."
"That's wonderful. We gotta tell Prue and Piper," I said reaching for the phone. Phoebe grabbed my hand an inch from the handset.
"It's past two in the morning. It can wait." She smiled, "So you don't mind?"
I kissed her, "Mind! I haven't been this happy since you agreed to marry me. I thought nothing could be better than that but this comes close."
"I can't wait to see Prue and Piper's faces," grinned Phoebe.
"Nor me," I replied. With that we both went to sleep.
* * * The next day, almost brimming over with happiness, we went to tell Phoebe's sisters. They, just like us, were absolutely delighted. Offering us their heartiest congratulations Prue and Piper both hugged their sister; Piper trying not to let us see her brush away a few tears of happiness. However, Prue and Piper had always been practical, nor were they prospective parents, who at the moment were too deliriously happy to think straight, and they realized a few things we hadn't thought about yet.
"He or she'll be a witch", said Piper, sipping her celebratory drink, "You do realize that?"
"And they'll have their powers," added Prue, "Remember, ours were bound."
I put my drink down, "Which means we're going to have our hands full," I smiled, "It's bad enough the kids hiding the remote control without them making it disappear."
Phoebe looked thoughtful, "There's no knowing what power it'll have either. I mean Mom froze time and I have premonitions. It'll probably be one of the three powers though."
"Or it could have Liam's" pointed out Prue. "And there's something else."
"What?" asked Phoebe.
"That baby could be very powerful. It's the child of two witches. And one of them is a Charmed One," began Prue.
Piper caught on fast, "Warlocks," she said grimly, "Once they find out they'll be after Phoebe like bees after honey."
* * * It was a month later, and so far there'd been no problems besides the usual morning sickness, and a craving for double choc and praline ice cream. Fortunately, the 24-hour grocery store on the corner had ample stocks. Warlocks had in fact, been conspicuous by their absence. That conversation had brought both us down to earth with a bump but we were confident that with the Power of Three and Prue's, Piper's and my individual powers we could defend Phoebe from any warlocks.
We were sitting in the lounge of our place. Phoebe was only two months gone and it wasn't showing yet. She was in a playful mood. "Will you still love me," she began, "When I'm six months pregnant and as large as a sumo wrestler." As she said it she patted her stomach.
"You know I…" I began then stopped as I saw Phoebe tense and stiffen, in the throes of a premonition.
A hospital room. A bed surrounded by doctors and nurses. Something is terribly wrong. The doctor turns and leaves the room. On a chair in the corridor sits a man. It's Liam.
"Mr Newland. I'm sorry; we can only save either the baby or Phoebe. It's a terrible decision but I have to ask…"
I saw Phoebe relax slightly. She stood in the centre of the room, unmoving, for what seemed like forever, although it was only a minute. She crossed to the sofa, sat down, When she spoke it was with a forced, calm, almost expressionless voice, that people use when they're telling someone something terrible, and are desperately afraid they'll go to pieces themselves. "Listen."
She told me her premonition. Struggling not to completely go to pieces, she continued, "I want you to promise me… Promise me you'll save our baby."
I was choking back the tears, "You can't ask me to do that."
"I'm not asking," she said, gripping my hands tightly and for just a second, a spark of the usual Phoebe surfaced, "I'm telling you."
I wrenched my hands from her grip, "No! I'll sell my soul before I make a decision like that," I argued, "Your premonitions mean we can change things. We'll stop this from happening."
Phoebe looked me straight in the eye. Her voice was almost pleading, "But if we can't and my premonition happens, promise me you will let me go and save our child."
With tears in my eyes, I nodded. "I promise."
Next morning, Phoebe and I were drinking coffee, both of us thinking about last night.
"Let's get married," I said, "As soon as we can."
"I thought we were going to have a long engagement."
"Yeah, I know." I replied, "I'm hoping like hell, we can stop your premonition, but if we can't, I want to spend the last months I've got with you, as your husband." I paused before continuing, "Also, if I'm honest, I can be bloody old-fashioned; and I want my child to come into the world bearing my name. I know it's petty…"
"I understand," smiled Phoebe, "But I still want a proper wedding, not just two witnesses and a judge. It doesn't have to be a church. A civil service will do just fine. I was never that religious anyway."
"Nor me," I replied, "How about in a month? You can go down City Hall, get the license and book us a date." I handed her my credit card, "And get a dress."
"Sounds good to me. I'll go down City Hall," She handed my card back, "But I'd rather get the dress with Prue and Piper, that way we can get the bridesmaids' dresses at the same time. Get to work." She frowned, "And I suppose I get to play good news, bad news with my sisters."
"They've invited us for dinner, remember?" I said, "We'll tell them together. Tonight."
Phoebe's two sisters took it better than I thought they might, but they'd been living with Phoebe's gift and it's consequences a lot longer than me. They were in complete agreement with our decision to marry somewhat earlier than we had planned. There was no crying over the premonition. Prue and Piper were determined that it would not come to pass.
Knowing that in the past, small details of the vision had enabled them to prevent it or even changed it's meaning completely, they questioned their sister closely. No, she didn't see herself on the bed. Yes, it was definitely her - Liam was in the corridor outside the room. The vision had shown his face clearly. And the doctor had mentioned her by name. No, there was no mention of the cause, it could be anything, the result of one the warlocks we expected to attack at any time, or a medical complication. The premonition was depressingly unrevealing.
The wedding had been booked for next month. Trying not to dwell on the premonition, Phoebe and her sisters threw themselves into the preparations, determined to give Phoebe the time of her life.
As a wedding present, Piper put P3 at Phoebe's disposal for the reception and busied herself organizing it, booking the DJ, planning the buffet and preparing it all herself.
Prue and Piper went to the mall to buy the dresses, choosing a beautiful pair of iory bridesmaid's dresses that looked absolutely stunning, but Phoebe insisted I was not to see her dress until the big day.
It was a week before the wedding and having found her something borrowed, Prue was lending her a pair of shoes, her something new, silver earrings in the shape of a triquetra, and her something blue, which was supposed to be a surprise, but which I found out was a matching lingerie set for the wedding night, all Phoebe required was her something old. The sisters were up in the attic of Halliwell Manor searching for the perfect item.
"I can't believe it," exclaimed an exasperated Piper, "All this stuff and there's nothing Phoebe can use."
"Keep looking," Phoebe smiled, "There at least two trunks left."
Prue crossed the room to one of the unexplored trunks muttering, "Something old, something old." As she passed the Book of Shadows, it flipped itself open, turning it's pages until it came to rest on page filled with handwriting so old, it was faded and barely legible. It looked as if it could have been the first thing ever written in the ancient tome. "Phoebe, look at this."
Phoebe and Piper crowed round the book, "I can't make it out," said Phoebe. As if hearing her, a glow suddenly emanated from the page, shrinking until it was a thin bright line. It moved down the page like a scanner beam, and as it passed, the writing became bold and clear, appearing now, as if it had been written only yesterday.
Phoebe read aloud
"So that ye be not disturbed on thy wedding nyte,
by neither daemon nor warlock
nor any intent upon harme.
Take sage, rosemary, hazel bark
Boil in a cauldron with a quart of water,
drawn fresh from a spring
Into it immerse, thy love's first gift,
from dawn 'til dawn.
The charm hung from the door of
thy first nyte's dwelling
Shall ensure ye are left in peace."Phoebe smiled, "That's my something old. And we've got all that stuff, except the freshly drawn spring water."
"I can get that," said Piper.
"So what was the first thing Liam ever gave you?" asked Prue.
"This," Phoebe reached around her neck and lifted a necklace over her head. It was a knotted black cord with a pendant in the letter P.
"Go get that water Piper," smiled Prue, "Come on girls. Let's do some witchcraft."
* * * I stood nervously in front of the judge, waiting for Phoebe to enter. I still hadn't seen the dress. Phoebe, despite being, unconventional, rebellious and free spirited, had obeyed tradition, and she'd stayed the previous night with her sisters at the Manor. Suddenly, the familiar strains of the Bridal March from Lohengrin started up, and Phoebe, followed by her sisters walked up the aisle.
A lump caught in my throat. She'd never looked so beautiful. It was ivory (she told me that night that she didn't dare wear white. She killed warlocks more innocent than her) like her sisters' dresses, cut low and off the shoulders, she'd let her dark brown hair grown long and it was brushed back, hanging down her back. She stopped at my side and the ceremony began.
* * * It started a week after we'd married. We'd both gone round to Halliwell Manor, to try and get a clue from the Book of Shadows as to what might cause Phoebe's pregnancy to go so horribly wrong. I was hoping that maybe there was a specific demon or warlock, or even something that affected expectant witches that might explain that terrible vision. I went through the book twice, with no luck.
It was now late and time to go home. Phoebe got up saying, "I'll get our coats." Suddenly, they just appeared on the sofa beside her. "You could have done that before I was halfway to the cloakroom," Phoebe admonished me.
"I didn't do it," I replied quietly.
Everyone stared at Phoebe, "What," she asked, "I couldn't have done it, it's not my power."
"But it could be the baby's," said Piper.
Everyone now looked at Piper, uncomprehending. She explained, "Remember when we went back in time to stop Nicholas." Her sisters nodded, but still not seeing where Piper was going with this, "Mom was pregnant at the time, with Pheebs. She had a premonition but Mom had the same power as me."
At last Prue caught on, "Phoebe's power was channeled through Mom."
"Yeah," said Piper, "I reckon the same thing is happening to Phoebe."
Another week passed, a hectic one. Phoebe was quite pleased to have this new power, if only temporarily. While nothing would make her give up her power of premonition, she'd always bemoaned her lack of an active power. In any case as she said, it meant if a warlock caught her alone, she'd have a chance. That was if she could learn to control it. She'd try and summon things and the wrong object would materialize, or she'd banish something and it would end up in the bathroom instead of the kitchen. I tried my best to help her. After all it was my power too, so if anyone knew how it worked, I should.
We were asleep in bed when suddenly Phoebe's scream woke me. She was sitting up in bed holding her head. She looked at me, "I had a premonition. Someone was robbing the bank and this guy tried to stop him. The robber shot him in the head, killed him. I didn't just see it, I felt it." She took her hand off her head, looking at it as if she expected to see blood. There was none. Getting out of bed she looked in the mirror. She breathed a visible sigh of relief when she saw she was uninjured.
I was sacred, although I tried not to let Phoebe see it. "What the hell's going on?"
"I don't know."
Next morning, Phoebe was up and dressed early, "Where are you going," I asked.
"The bank. In the premonition it had a clock with the date and time outside."
"You must be joking," I told her.
"Look, I might be pregnant, but I'm still a Charmed One. Protectors of the innocent, remember. I'm supposed to stop this guy getting shot."
"How?"
"I'll banish the bank robber's gun."
"You can't even control it yet," I laughed.
"Really," said Phoebe, her face darkening with anger, "How about this?"
Suddenly, I was no longer in the lounge. I was in the bathroom. More specifically, in a bath full of freezing water. I'd had one last night and must have forgotten to take out the plug. Soaking wet, I climbed out of the bath, dried myself off and summoned some dry clothes. Then I headed downstairs, but as I'd guessed Phoebe had made use of the time she'd brought and was gone.
San Francisco's a big city and I'd only lived there three months. I had no idea which bank Phoebe was heading for. I just hoped Piper and Prue did. I picked up the phone and dialed the Halliwell's number.
It turned out there were three banks that had a clock showing the time and date outside. We each took one. Mine was the First American Mercantile.
I got there just in time. The robber and the victim to be were facing each other off. Phoebe was in the front of the crowd, gesturing frantically, trying, without success, to banish the robber's gun before he used it. The robber raised his revolver. To give her due, my wife had more than her share of bravery, she rushed out of the crowd, trying to put herself between the robber and the man he was about to shoot dead. The robber pulled the trigger. He was rewarded with an empty click.
Both men stood stunned, as one realized his gun hadn't gone off and the other tried to fathom why he wasn't dead. Then almost as if, Piper had frozen time, and was now undoing the spell, both men unfroze, the robber turning to run, and the man he'd tried to kill diving on him, pinning him to the ground. The sound of sirens announced the arrival of the police.
Phoebe made herself scarce, heading for a diner for a coffee. I followed her sitting down at her table. "You caught up with me then," she said.
"Yeah," I replied, "You could have been killed."
"The gun wasn't loaded," she answered. Puzzlement etched itself on her face as she continued, "Funny that, it went off in my vision. They've never been wrong before."
"It wasn't wrong." I opened my hand, which up to now had been balled into a fist. Lying in my palm were six bullets. I'd summoned them just as the robber had pulled the trigger.
* * * With hindsight, I went too far, but I was scared. Scared that my wife had nearly been killed, along with our child. Scared that her powers were acting crazy, what with her summoning and the premonition that she had actually felt, and most of all, scared of the horrifying premonition which predicted my having to make a terrible decision between the life of my wife or my child.
After the near miss with the bank robber I didn't let Phoebe out of my sight and if I did it was only because I insisted she was accompanied by one of her sisters. To Phoebe, with her free-spirited personality and penchant for doing her own thing it was anathema. She indulged me for a week, understanding that I'd taken a fright and willing to go along with it, in order to calm me down. Except that I didn't. Phoebe pleaded, cajoled and argued with me but I refused to waver. Inside, Phoebe was boiling mad, boiling being the right word, her anger was building up like steam under pressure in a pipe, and sooner or later it has to be released or the pipe blows.
That wasn't the only problem. Phoebe's powers started acting more and more erratically. The house was a mess. Not untidy, but nothing was where it should be. Things disappeared and reappeared at random, in places all over the house. In the supermarket, as Phoebe read off the shopping list, the item would appear in our trolley, but not just one item, the whole shelf. Luckily, we were doing our late at the 24 hour store and we were the only customers in the store.
More worryingly, the premonitions continued. Phoebe could feel as well as see what was happening in them. They came more frequently. It seemed she only had to pick something up, or see a news bulletin on the TV, to receive a vision. One morning, with Phoebe a week into her fourth month, I saw a bruise on her thigh.
"What's that?" I asked.
"A premonition. I saw someone fall down stairs," She smiled, "I was lucky, the guy I saw broke his pelvis."
It was a week later. We'd invited Prue and Piper over for dinner, and a conference. So far it'd been a pleasant evening when the time bomb that'd been ticking away for the last month finally blew.
Piper was asking Phoebe how her antenatal classes were going.
"Great," Phoebe replied, "Except they're moving them to Friday."
"You'll have to miss them," I said, "Or find another class."
"Why," said Phoebe, a trace of anger in her voice, that passed by me unnoticed, but which made her sisters start looking for cover.
"I can't make Friday. And if you think…"
"All right, I've had enough. I'm tired of this. For the last month you've had me caged like a canary. I can't do this. I can't go there. And even the things I can do, and the places I can go, I have to go with someone else," shouted Phoebe, the pipe finally bursting. "Well, no more. I need these classes. And I'm going to them."
"No, you aren't."
Trying to stop the argument before it went too far, Piper, ever the peacemaker, interrupted, "Liam, she's right. Doing what you're doing to Phoebe is like caging a tiger. Phoebe, we know how you feel, but shouting and getting angry ain't gonna help. Maybe Liam went too far, but he only did it because he loves you and he's scared to death of losing you."
It didn't help. It just gave Phoebe a new target. "You aren't pregnant. Your powers aren't out of control." She raged at her sister, "You have no idea what's it's like. I don't know where anything is in the house anymore or even if it's in the house. I'm having all these premonitions, seeing dozens of people who are going to get killed, hurt, robbed, framed, lose a loved one, and I'm not just seeing it, I'm going through it with them. Even if I could go out of the house," Phoebe favoured me with a furious look, "I could only help a handful of them. And you sit there saying you know how I'm feeling. Go to…"
I dived onto the sofa, slamming my hand over Phoebe's mouth before she could finish the sentence. "If you'd completed the sentence, with your powers like this, Piper would probably have been banished to hell."
The shock of what she'd almost done, calmed Phoebe down faster than any words. She raised her hand in the peace sign, signaling that the argument was over. I took my hand from her mouth. "I'm sorry," she said.
I shook my head, "No you don't have to be. I went too far. It's just that I was so scared."
We embraced. Suddenly, Phoebe's body stiffened and she screamed as another premonition hit. For five minutes, she sat there in the throes of a premonition, whimpering and moaning., while all we three could do was look on helplessly. I hugged her the whole time trying to soothe her, comfort her. At last the vision passed. There were tears in her eyes. "He raped her. She was only 16." Her voice faltered, "Then he got a machete, and carved her up." Now she was completely in tears, hugging me as she were a child as she concluded, "And I saw everything, felt everything, as if it was… me he was killing." She cried for a minute before regaining her self-control "I'm alright," she said distantly. "But I feel like I could be sick for a year."
I released her. She got up from the sofa and immediately collapsed back on to it. All over her body and on my clothes where I'd been hugging her was blood. On her arms back, torso, legs and neck she was bleeding from a myriad of cuts and slashes.
Prue was the first to recover. "Get her upstairs. Piper, go home and get the book. The spell on it means Liam can't summon it." I took Phoebe in my arms and banished us upstairs to the bedroom and lay her on the bed. Piper grabbed the car keys and went home for the book and an extra first aid box. We couldn't call a doctor - too many questions.
Piper made record time. We tended to Phoebe's injuries. Luckily, the cuts looked a lot worse that they turned out to be, and Phoebe was soon back to almost her old self, although a bit pale and slightly tired.
"I was thinking while I was driving," said Piper, "I have an idea what's going on."
"The baby," guessed Prue.
"Exactly. I think it has two powers, Liam's summoning and Phoebe's premonitions. What's happening is that both Phoebe's and the baby's powers, especially the premonitions have combined, making them many times stronger."
"Too strong," I interjected, "If they grow any stronger, they could… Oh God," I finished quietly.
"Liam?" asked a concerned Prue, "What?"
"Don't you see," said Piper, now seeing it all, "It's too much for Phoebe to take. The powers are getting ever more powerful and they're going to end up doing Phoebe some serious harm."
"More than that," Phoebe interrupted quietly, as realization dawned. "They're going to end up causing the events in my premonition."
"So now we know what's going to happen." I said, breaking the silence that followed. "How do we stop it?"
"We bind the baby's power, like Grams did to us," said Prue.
"How?" I asked, "It hasn't been born."
"Nor had Phoebe," explained Piper, "All we have to do is find the spell."
"Liam," Phoebe interrupted urgently, "That girl you have to save her. I'm still groggy from that premonition and if another one hits, I'll need help. And the sooner we find that spell which means Prue and Piper have go to stay here."
"OK. Where and when?"
"Tonight. At the underground car park at Lacy's Mall."
"I'll get the car keys."
"Why don't you just banish yourself there?" Prue asked me.
"I have to know exactly where a place is to banish anyone or anything there," I explained, "And I not sure where Lacy's Mall is. Acton Boulevard if I remember right." With that, keys and street map in my hand, I headed for the underground car park at Lacy's Mall.
* * * I got to the car park, parked my car and waited. Around 9.30 I saw them. He was a tall, stockily built man with long hair. In front of him, with her arm twisted behind her back was an obviously frightened teenager. As he pushed her in front of him, applying persuasion by her twisted arm, she whimpered, "Let me go, please don't hurt me."
I got out of the car. "I don't think the young lady appreciates your company."
The man turned, looking at me. For some reason he seemed to have difficulty focusing on me. His voice when he spoke was slurred. He was either drunk out of his skull, or more likely, so high on drugs he was partying with the angels. "Mind your own business."
"Can't do that," I answered, "Let her go."
In response, he shoved the girl roughly to the ground, knocking the breath out of her "Stay there, bitch," he ordered. Advancing on me he reached into his coat he produced a wicked looking machete, "Man, what a night. I get to do a whore, and then carve her up, and now Mr Hero as a bonus."
I summoned the machete into my hand, "I don't think so."
"Why you…" He rushed at me, in a maddened rage, intent on taking me apart with his bare hands. Moving back to the wall, I prepared to banish myself to the other side of the car park. If I timed it right my attacker would run straight into the wall, which even if it didn't knock him out, would give me some breathing space. I didn't have to.
Unnoticed by either of us, the attacker's victim had recovered. She gestured with her hand towards the enraged attacker, and two energy bolts shot across the car park, slamming into him, and knocking him straight back towards my car. The speed he was travelling at, I knew he'd hit it. Only he didn't. The girl gestured again. It was like he hit an invisible brick wall. He stopped dead and slumped to the ground.
"Not bad," I said appreciatively. "Thanks for saving my car."
She laughed. "You helped me. I'd have felt bad if I'd wrecked your car." She extended a hand, "I'm Chloe, and I'm a witch."
Taking her hand, I replied, "Liam. Ditto. What was that power. It's amazing."
"Energy channeling," replied Chloe, "I can manipulate energy, use it as energy bolts, force fields, anything. Well, theoretically. I've only just got it. I turned 16 and bang, I find out I'm a witch." She smiled wryly, "It'd be so useful except that it won't work whenever I'm under stress."
"You'll get it eventually." Looking at our unconscious assailant I said, "Now we've just got to decide what to do with him."
"Can't call the cops. Too much to explain away especially when he tells them what happened," mused the young witch.
"He's so high the cops won't believe anything he says, especially crazy stories about people magically taking his machete and then hitting him with thunderbolts," I replied. "We'll tell the cops that he ran into a wall, which he did, even though it was a force field. If you can use your power to move him over there," I pointed at the wall I was planning to let him run into, "Then we call the cops and tell them the truth."
"What?" Chloe squealed, looking at me like I was on drugs.
Ignoring the interruption, I continued "Except that I didn't take his machete, he charged at me with it; and instead of being hit by energy bolts, I dodged and he hit the wall."
It was a good plan. For one thing it stuck mainly to the truth, and it's best not to tell too many lies to the police. They have a nasty habit of finding out and asking why. After moving the unconscious figure to the wall, I got my mobile and dialed 911. Then Chloe and I waited for the police.
It took two hours. We had to go to the station and give statements and by the time all the procedures had been got through it was close to midnight. Chloe was driven home in a black and white, while I got in my car and headed back home.
* * * I got home to find the three sisters waiting for me.
"Well?," asked Phoebe.
"I saved her. Turns out she was a witch. The guy who attacked her has been charged with possession, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder, and not least, attempted rape. Either of which will send him down for a ten stretch," I smiled, content with a good night's work. "And have you had any success?"
"Yes," answered Prue. "The spell has to be done by someone in the parental line, that means, a mother, father, grandmother, grandfather etc."
"Me then. What do I do?"
Piper handed me a piece of paper, "Just recite this."
"Hear the words of a father
Bind the power of my child unborn
From whence they came
Let them be hidden
Until released by time or invocation.
Let it be done."There was no crash of lightning, no power blackouts, not even a puff of smoke. In fact, there was nothing to show that any type of spell had been cast.
"Did it work?" I asked.
"I don't know," answered Prue, "Phoebe?"
"I don't feel any different," replied my wife, "Guess we'll just have to see."
* * * The next day, Phoebe had no premonitions at all, and things had stopped disappearing and reappearing all over the house. It had worked. For all four of us, it was if a great weight that had been crushing us had finally been lifted. Barring warlocks or medical complications, it seemed that all we had to cope with now were the normal highs and lows of pregnancy. I was even happier when two weeks later at her five-month check up, the doctors pronounced themselves extremely satisfied with both Phoebe and our baby. Now, it was only the warlocks we had to worry about. They'd been conspicuous, only by their absence. It seemed, somehow, ominous.
The months that followed were wonderful. Phoebe was truly blooming. Pregnancy only made her look better. Even when she got bigger, waddling around the house like a duck, she was still beautiful, to me at least. I could lie for hours my head on her stomach listening to the baby's heartbeat, and feeling it kicking. Prue and Piper, the expectant aunts were just as excited as us. Prue in particular, would come round, on the thinnest excuse to see Phoebe. The warlocks still failed to make an appearance and I dared to hope they would not.
Phoebe was a week before her eight month and everything was still perfect. Phoebe was at home, and I was at work when the event that we feared finally occurred. There was a knock at the door. Phoebe went and looked through the spy hole let into the door. Standing there in the pouring rain was a woman wearing a US Post Office uniform. Phoebe cautiously opened the door on the chain.
"US Post Office, Ma'am, I have a registered letter that needs a signature."
"Pass it through the gap," instructed Phoebe. The woman passed her clipboard through the gap, and Phoebe signed, then handed it back. "The letter."
"What?, Oh yes, I'll just get it."
Phoebe had been a witch long enough to sense when something was wrong, and something was definitely not right here. She started to close the door but the woman put her foot into the crack. Phoebe stamped on it, the woman yelled in pain, and the foot was removed. Phoebe slammed the door and locked it, then headed for the lounge to phone for help.
The woman stepped through the closed door. She made a gesture with her hand and all the doors and windows in the house locked, trapping Phoebe inside.
The woman's appearance changed. Her sodden clothes steamed, as the water they'd absorbed evaporated. Her skin became translucent, so that you could actually see the movement of muscles, and blood through veins, beneath her skin, her fingers lengthened, her nails curving into claws, her teeth extending into fangs and where her eyes had been were two empty sockets which glowed red with evil.
"You can't escape, my sweet," gloated the demon, "I bet you thought we weren't coming for you, that we didn't know you were expecting. Weren't expecting Lillith were you." The demon laughed at its own joke.
Phoebe turned. Demons and warlocks liked to see you suffer. It meant they had power over you, and in the end that's what they wanted. "Keep her gloating," thought Phoebe, "She may let something slip, something I can use. At the very least, it'll buy time for someone to get here."
"Lillith. Nice name." It wasn't much of an opener but Phoebe was doing the best she could with a bad hand. "So why now?"
"Let you think you're safe. Catch you unprepared. Easier to kill you." A spark moved across Lillith's claws and arced out into a bolt of blue fire that melted the telephone, just as Phoebe reached for the handset. Phoebe pulled her hand back just in time, "Naughty, Not allowed to phone for help. Have to be punished."
Lillith cast another bolt, it hit Phoebe, blasting her over the sofa. Phoebe struggled to her feet. Lillith watched, gloating as Phoebe fought to get up, waiting for her to stand before unleashing another bolt at Phoebe, which hit her, knocking her backwards into the kitchen. Phoebe forced herself to her feet again, only to be knocked back down by another of Lillith's blue fire bolts. It went on for ten minutes. Phoebe, with a stubbornness, that even Prue would envy, refused to stay down. Lillith waited each time for Phoebe to get back up, before launching another bolt, throwing Phoebe all over the house.
Finally, Phoebe lay on the mini landing halfway up the stairs, where they turned a corner. She knew she couldn't take another hit. So did Lillith. "Game's over, my sweet," smiled the demon, or close as she got. She advanced to the stairs moving in for the kill.
Like a flash, Phoebe had an idea, but to do it she needed to buy some time. Desperately, she started crawling up the stairs. To her ears came Lillith's voice gloating, "That won't help you. You mortals are so amusing. Don't you know when you're beaten?"
As she struggled up the stairs, Phoebe recited a spell under her breath. Last time Phoebe had used this spell, it unbound the sisters' own powers. Given some luck, it would, with few changes, work just as well for her child's. It was a desperate gamble, but Phoebe had always held on for last card miracles.
"Hear now the words of a witch
The secret hidden from sight
The oldest of gods are invoked here
A work of magic is sought
In this time and in this hour
I call upon the ancient power
Bring your power to the child within me
Unbind the power
Give it the power."Phoebe felt a gentle breeze stir her hair and then she was surrounded by a blue light which itself, contained a myriad of white dots, dancing in the light, like stars. As the eerie glow dissipated, she made it to the top of the stairs. Phoebe forced herself to her feet and turned to face the demon, who had nearly reached the upstairs landing.
"Pretty light show. Was it supposed to do something?" The demon was on the landing now, facing Phoebe. "Don't fret my sweet," gloated Lillith, "Hell's rather nice once you get there. Always summer, and never winter, though some find it a bit too tropical."
Lillith's words triggered a memory, the argument with Liam and her sisters. Suddenly, Phoebe knew exactly what to do. "If it's that nice," she answered, meeting Lillith's ghastly red eyes, "Why don't you go back there?"
Lillith went backwards over the banister, as if someone had pulled her, falling to the floor in the hall. Suddenly, she was surrounded by fire, which writhed and curled around the demon. "No," screamed Lillith, "I'd won, you can't…" Her agonized scream was cut short as the fire consumed the demon, dragging her back to hell
That was one problem sorted. The demon sent to kill her had been vanquished, but Phoebe knew she wasn't out of the woods yet. She hurt all over and Phoebe could only guess how seriously Lillith had hurt her. She gained an idea when she felt her legs go from under her, and she hit the floor of the upstairs landing with a thud that sent stabbing pains all over her body. Phoebe tried to get to her feet but she couldn't even feel them. If she hadn't been able to see them she'd have thought they weren't there. Phoebe wasn't giving up yet, she hadn't banished a demon to hell just for herself and her child to die anyway. Phoebe Newland, still had one card left to play. She closed her eyes, concentrating.
* * * I was at work when all of a sudden I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. I felt a brief instant of pain that spread up my spine and through my skull like an express migraine. I felt my body tense, and with an almost physical force that took my breath away, a vision jolted through my brain in a second of indescribable violence
Home. The upstairs landing. Phoebe lying on the floor. Unmoving.
When I opened my eyes the world was spinning, but abruptly, almost painfully it snapped back into focus. The noise of the office seemed muffled, and then briefly went too loud before returning to its normal level.
I grabbed my coat and headed out of the office. I didn't know how but I'd just had a premonition and Phoebe was in terrible trouble. I got in the lift, waited for a second after the doors closed and banished myself back home.
I ran upstairs, Phoebe was barely conscious, "It worked," she said weakly, trying to smile, "Didn't know if I could banish a premonition."
"What happened?"
"Demon. I wouldn't stay down."
I dialed 911 on my mobile and waited. Knowing that it was important to keep an injured person conscious I kept talking, trying to keep Phoebe awake.
"That premonition was you?"
"Yeah," came the faint voice.
"It's frightening."
"I know," replied my wife. "But I've got used to it." With that she lost consciousness. In the distance I heard sirens approaching.
* * * Phoebe had been rushed into Emergency. I sat in the corridor, nursing another of the countless coffees during the worst eight hours of my life. All I knew was that Phoebe had suffered massive trauma, and possibly internal injuries, particularly to the abdomen. The doctor had given Phoebe and the baby each a 50-50 chance.
The door opened, I got a glance into the room. I couldn't see my wife. Doctors and nurses surrounded her bed. The doctor in charge came into the corridor.
"Mr. Newland," he began, "Phoebe suffered significant internal injuries, but she'll pull through. We had to deliver the baby, as it had suffered some trauma due to the attack on your wife." He continued, although in my relief the words just washed over me. "She's in the Special Care Baby Unit under observation. Technically, a baby born before 8 months is not considered as gone to term but a week doesn't make all that much difference. She's strong, healthy and a fighter. She keeps pulling the monitoring pads off."
"They're both alright?"
"Yes,"
"Phoebe, is she…"
"Conscious, and demanding we let you see her. She's still a bit tired after the surgery, and right now she needs to rest so don't let her get over excited."
I went in. I wanted to throw my arms around her but Phoebe was still in a delicate condition so I restricted myself to a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Have you seen her," asked my wife, "I was out when they delivered her and they had to take her straight to the Special Care Baby Unit."
"Not yet," I answered, "We'll have time later. Now what happened. The house is a wreck."
"Tell you on the way to the Unit. I want to see my daughter."
"The doctor said you needed rest"
Phoebe's opinion of what the doctor said was unrepeatable.
"That was a little harsh," came the voice of Phoebe's doctor. Phoebe turned bright red.
"Sorry," she muttered.
"Forget it," he laughed, "Tell you what, if you stay in the wheelchair and don't try to get up, never mind walk, your husband can take you down for a short visit to see your daughter."
"Deal," replied Phoebe.
I got a chair and helped Phoebe into it. As I wheeled her down the corridors to the Unit, she recounted the attack, from Lillith's arrival, through the fight, her unbinding of the powers, Lillith's banishment and her combining of the premonition and banishing powers in order to send me that premonition
"You're crazy," I said, though there was no sting in the words, just admiration, "Unbinding those powers, and combining them. You'd have to be crazy to consider it, but actually doing it…" I laughed, "And you don't know when to stay down," I concluded, kissing my wife on the cheek. "If our daughter turns out like you…"
"God help us," finished Phoebe.
We finally arrived at the unit. As our daughter was fine, just under precautionary observation we were allowed to hold her, Phoebe first. She was beautiful. She had blue eyes, but all babies are born with blue eyes so that didn't mean they'd stay that way, her mother's snub nose and even though she was a month, (or was it a week?) early, a head full of dark brown hair, Phoebe's colour, but it was curly and unruly, the way my own wild, unkempt thatch went, when I forgot to visit the barber. Phoebe gave me my daughter to hold, I took her in my arms, tears in my eyes, as I greeted my baby girl, "Hello, Philippa Suzanne Newland."
