NOTE: The second in 'The Scorpion Chronicles'

DISCLAIMER: This story is not published for profit but to share creative ideas with other fans of Charmed on this and other Charmed fan websites. The characters of Prue, Piper, and Phoebe Halliwell, Darryl Morris, and Andy Trudeau are the property of the Warner Brothers Studios. The character of Guinan is the property of Gene Roddenberry Productions. Other characters were created by this author. Any similarities to a real person or persons, living or dead, is purely co-incidental. The following account is strictly fictional. It's sole purpose is to entertain.

It wasn't a good night for the P3. Very few customers had come in that night and Piper had little to do. So it wasn't difficult to notice the unusual stranger. He was all dressed in khaki -- khaki shirt, khaki vest, and khaki jeans. He wore an Australian hat with the right side of the brim turned upwards. A denim shoulder bag hung at his right waist by means of a strap across his chest and over his left shoulder. He also wore cowboy boots with an unusual texture and color. They seemed green or grey or a bit of both mingled, depending on how the light hit it. But what caught her immediate attention was the dark-papered cigarillo clutched in his teeth. She quickly went up to him as he came up to the bar.

"Oh, sir! This is a non-smoking establishment. Could you please put out your cigarette?"

He complied. He crushed out the cigarillo on his left thumbnail then tucked it into the fold of his hat. Piper noted this with curiosity. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"Thank you. Now what can I get for you?"

"A pint of Guinness."

It wasn't often called for so there wasn't any on tap. She found a few bottles in the refrigerator. She poured one into a frosty mug and brought it to him. He had taken off his hat and shoulder bag and settled in to relax. With nothing much else to do, Piper decided to engage in some small talk.

"Looks like you just got into town."

"Yup. Had some business in Reno. And once I'm finished with my business here, I'm off to Australia."

"Wow! You sound like a busy one!"

"It pays the bills... Y'know, I was expecting a different place here. I was here a few years ago and this is so different from what I remember."

"That place went out of business. I just bought it last year and opened this."

"You're the new owner? Well, congratulations!"

"Thank you."

"Is it usually this lively?"

"It's usually livelier. This is just one of those off nights."

"I can understand that. I'm a nightclub owner myself."

"Really? Where?"

"Chicago."

He pulled out a business card from his vest pocket and handed it to her. It was very unusual in that it was round instead of rectangle. Across this was a caricature of a curled scorpion in red. The name read The Scorpion's Den over its address and telephone number. Something about it struck Piper as familiar. Then she looked up into his blue eyes with a gasp.

"Excuse me! I just remembered something I have to do!"

She hurried across the club to a table in a corner, where Phoebe sat chatting with some of her schoolmates. When Phoebe looked up at her, Piper held the card in front of her face.

"This was just given to me by a man with blue eyes."

Phoebe jumped to her feet, anxiously looking around. "Where?! Where is he?!"

"Shhhh! Don't act so eager! He's at the bar, blonde, all dressed in tan. Let's just calmly go over there and I'll introduce you, then you can take it from there. Just don't look so... man-hungry."

"I'm not acting man-hungry!"

Her friends, sitting around the table, burst into giggling. She turned and waved a finger at them. "All right, you guys!"

Piper went back to her place behind the bar as Phoebe approached the stranger.

"This is my sister," Piper presented. "She's part owner of this club."

Phoebe reached out her hand. "Phoebe Halliwell."

"Derek McPhillips." He took her hand and they shook.

Suddenly a vision burst into Phoebe's head. She saw this handsome stranger before her, in a suit, and herself beside him, in a bridal gown, and both looking very happy. She was stunned by this revelation. Fortunately, the man had turned away to reach for his drink. She quickly composed herself by the time he turned his attention back to her. She had so many questions to ask and didn't know quite where to start.

"Uh... So... uh... you own a place called Scorpion's Den."

"That's right."

"How did you come by that name?"

"'Scorpion' is my nickname."

"How did you get that?"

"I became skilled at knife fighting in high school. Someone said I move like a scorpion's tail and inflict just as much pain."

This surprised Phoebe and Piper. Phoebe wasn't quite sure about with what kind of person she was getting involved. But she just had to press on.

"Is that a Southern accent I hear?"

"Midwestern actually; from southern Illinois. I make my home in Chicago now but I do so much travelling, for business, I never stayed long enough to pick up their accent."

"You know, I have the feeling I've heard your name before."

"Could have. I'm in the news now and then."

"Really? For what?"

"Oh... several reasons, my businesses, giving to charity, getting into trouble."

"I won't ask what kind of trouble."

"Good."

"What kind of business are you in?"

"I'm a treasure hunter."

"Wow! What kind of treasures have you found?"

"Whatever people left behind, long long time ago. Sometimes it's gold, silver, and gems, but mostly daily artifacts; tools, weapons, articles of clothing, and especially works of art and writing. I'm more interested in the daily lives and thoughts of other people in their times and cultures."

This went on and on throughout the evening. Phoebe just kept pumping him with questions. Derek didn't mind. He enjoyed the attention he was getting from two beautiful women on his first night in San Francisco.

It hardly seemed that much time had passed, when Derek finally said, "I'd better turn in now. I've got to be up early tomorrow."

"I'll walk with you to your car," Phoebe offered.

In the parking lot, they approached a red pick-up with a small wooden house set on the back.

"Here she is," Derek indicated.

"What is that? Some kind of mobile home?"

"Yup. My home away from home. It's got a bed, stove, 'fridgerator, shower, toilet, TV, stereo, and plenty of closet and shelf space."

"You drove that all the way here from Chicago?"

"Actually I flew in from Reno. I arranged for this to be waiting for me at the airport. I usually do that when.... Wait!"

He faced something out in the darkness and pushed Phoebe behind himself. From out of that point in the darkness came a flash and the crack of a gunshot. Something struck Derek so that he leaned back a little. But he whipped out a gun from his shoulder bag and returned fire. From the darkness came the sound of a man crying out and falling to the ground. He quickly turned and fired in the opposite direction. Another man cried out and fell. Immediately, the whoop of a police siren blurted out close by and two police cars flanked Derek. Uniformed policemen scrambled out and surrounded him with guns drawn.

"All right, McPhillips! Drop it and get your hands up!"

Phoebe moved out in front of him. "Wait a minute! It was self-defense! They shot first!"

Another car pulled up and Morris stepped out. "All right! I'll handle this!"

The officers put away their guns and went to tend to the wounded men and comb the area for witnesses. Piper and Phoebe's friends came running out, having heard the shots and sirens. Morris went up to Phoebe.

"What are you doing with him?"

"He's a customer at our club. I was just talking with him." She then gave Morris and Piper a rundown of what happened.

Morris turned to Derek. "Every time you come into town there's trouble. As soon as I heard you've just flown in, I knew I'd need two squad cars to follow you around. And as soon as I heard shooting, I knew you'd be at the center of it."

"But, Darryl," Phoebe protested. "He saved my life!"

"Your life wouldn't need saving if he hadn't caused trouble elsewhere, so that it followed him here."

Through it all, Derek stood silent. He had been through all this before and didn't care to waste words. He simply took the half-smoked cigarillo from the fold of his hat, relit it, and continued smoking. By the time he and Phoebe were signing the police statements, Prue came running, alarmed by the presence of police cars and ambulances.

"What happened? Is everyone all right?"

"We're fine," said Piper. "There's just been a shooting in the parking lot." She then gave her a synopsis of what happened and introduced her to Derek.

"Pleased to meet you, Derek. Thank you for saving my sister's life."

"My pleasure. Wouldn't want to see someone else suffer for what I've done."

Morris rolled his eyes and sighed. "All right, McPhillips. You're free to beat it... for now. I'm releasing you on your own cognizance. Just don't leave town until this matter is closed."

"Y'know, Morris? I was hoping that partner of yours would have taught you to loosen up by now."

"Trudeau's dead."

Derek turned somber. "That's too bad. I liked him."

"You knew Andy?!" Prue asked with surprise.

"Yeah. He arrested me a couple of times."

"Arrested you?!" Phoebe exclaimed.

"As the good inspector brought out, every time I come to town, there's trouble. Usually, I go to a bar, get into a fight, bust up the place, bust a few heads, and get arrested. Andy and I would take potshots at each other while taking me to my cell. He was a lighthearted character and one of the few cops to treat me decently." To Morris, "Sorry about the loss, Man. I know he was your friend as well as your partner." (This endeared him to Phoebe all the more.)

Morris groped for words but couldn't find any. All he could utter was "Yeah."

Derek got into his pick-up to leave, when Phoebe came running up to him. "Wait a minute! I just remembered where I heard you name before! You put out an ad for the American Psychic Society."

"That's right."

"I'll be one of the volunteers to help clean up the new branch home."

"Great! Then I'll be seeing you tomorrow morning."

"Right!" Phoebe felt giddy with excitement and watched Derek drive off.

Prue asked Morris, "What do you know about him?"

"He's one of the country's most notorious vigilantes. Most people know him as 'the Scorpion'. He feels he knows how to dispense justice better than the legal system and takes it upon himself to pass sentences he feels the courts should have. He's wanted in 15 states and five countries for assaults and property damage. He uses the law, the same as career criminals, to beat many of his raps. And with the success of many of his businesses, he can afford a lot of good lawyers. Then there's the matter of his drinking and fighting, which is the headache of every police department whose city he drops in on." To Phoebe, "You're better off having nothing to do with him. He'll just bring more trouble your way."

An officer came up to Morris. "We checked out the two guys he shot. There's a warrant out for them in Nevada. Want us to hold them for extradition?" Morris gave a nod.

He bade the sisters goodnight, then the police and ambulance began clearing out. One of Phoebe's friends brought her purse and jacket.

"We're leaving now. You riding with us?"

"Sure."

"Wait!" said Piper. "I want to ask you something."

"Wait in the car," Phoebe told her friend. "I'll be with you in a minute."

So she left her alone with her sisters. Piper's question was "What did you see?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know that look by now. When you shook his hand, you had a prediction. What was it?"

With all the negativity said about Derek, she was embarrassed to say, but couldn't just flatly refuse to answer her older sisters. (Prue was also waiting for an answer.) So she tried to throw them off with vagaries.

"Uh... A wedding."

"Who's wedding?"

"Um... His."

"Who's he marrying?"

"Um... Me."

She turned and tried to leave, but Prue seized her by the shoulder and forced her to turn around and look her in the face.

"You had a prediction you're marrying him?"

Phoebe grinned sheepishly. "Well, I admit his first impressions aren't that good."

"First impressions not good?! Phoebe, the man is trouble!"

"So is Phoebe," Piper added. "They're a perfect match."

"Thank you, Piper," said Phoebe with a mock appreciation.

Prue continued. "How could think of getting involve with that kind of person?"

"I don't choose my predictions! They come as they are, whether I like them or not! And Madam Guinan said."

"Oh please! Forget Madam Guinan!"

"Madam Guinan said, last week, that he'd arrive about now. She said he'd have blue eyes. And I had a vision of a scorpion. And she did say he'd have a habit of getting into trouble... (looking at Piper) just like me."

Prue just huffed with frustration. She just would not buy into that fortune telling stuff and didn't like Phoebe putting faith in it. But she realized it was pointless to argue so she changed the subject.

"What is this American Psychic Society? And how did you get involve with it?"

"A member of our wiccan sisterhood showed me this article in the ads. Derek bought the Morehead house on San Bernadino Drive, for a new branch of the American Psychic Society. He calls for all new members to volunteer to clean up the place and get it ready for use, rather than hire workers. That way, we get a feel for the house from the beginning."

"Wait a minute!" Piper interrupted. "Isn't that house supposed to be haunted?"

"Yeah. What better place for a psychic club? Anyway, I didn't think much of it, at first, but when I touched the paper, I had a prediction of a man, in an Australian hat, which I now realize is Derek, holding me. I mean really holding me! I mean really really..."

"All right!", Prue cut in. "I get it!"

"Can I go now?"

Prue simply folded her arms and looked away. Phoebe ran off to the car where her friends waited. They greeted her with whoops and hoots. ("Woooooo! Phoebe's got a new boyfriend!", "Woooooo! Phoebe's in love!", and other expressions to that effect.)

* * *

Next day, Prue spent all morning in the part of the basement, she converted into a darkroom, developing sets of prints. It was close to noon, when she heard Phoebe drive up the driveway. She had expected her to be out all day, so thought it odd she would come home so early.

The front door opened a little and Phoebe cautiously peeked in. She was pale and red-eyed. She quietly slipped in and closed the door as carefully as possible. After looking around and listening for any sound, she quickly tiptoed up the stairs. Then Prue's voice seized her like a spider web.

"Phoebe, What happened?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Get back here."

Phoebe sighed with resignation, turned around, and slowly descended the stairs. Prue saw her face and worried.

"Now, what happened at that house?"

Phoebe sat down on the stairs and began. "I got to the Morehead House at 8:30. Others were already waiting, including Irene, Gail, and a few others of the wiccans. Derek drove up in his pick-up, followed by a few businessmen in big black cars. He divided us up into groups, gave us assignments, then unlocked the front door. While we went in, he stayed out on the porch, talking with the businessmen.

"I was with the group in the attic. We were just sweeping and picking up debris, when I started feeling really cold. When I looked around, I found myself in a different room and alone, except for a woman in a white gown and no eyes. Her eye sockets were empty and dripping with blood. She held her hand closed in front of her, covered with blood. I knew she was holding her eyes in her hands and she wanted to show them to me. I tried to look away but couldn't move. Her hands slowly opened.

"Next thing I knew I was up against the attic wall and some members of the cleanup crew were shaking me. They said I was screaming and thrashing around. I told them what I saw and they believed me. Even though it was a warm day, my skin was freezing cold. And several of them had felt an unexplainable presence. Someone had gone and told Derek. He came up quickly and held me to comfort me. He really held me! I mean really really!"

"All right! I get it! So how are you feeling now?"

"Still a bit shaky. Some offered to drive me home, but I didn't want to impose on anyone. Derek told me to rest until tomorrow."

"You're going back to that place?"

"I don't have to go back to the attic."

"That's not the point! The entire house is possessed, not just one room! And the spirit has obviously targeted you! It probably knows you're a witch and now wants to contact you for some reason, which we can tell is not good! So why do you want to go back? Is it because of him?"

"It's not just because of him! It's because I'm tired of being isolated! I'd like to go someplace where I don't feel like such a freak! I just want to be around people where I don't have to be on my guard all the time!"

Phoebe got up and walked off to her room in a snit. Prue was left blown away by this revelation. When Piper came home for lunch, she discussed this with her.

"I never knew she felt that way. I always thought she was happy being a witch."

"I don't think that was the issue. You attacked her choice of friends, so she got defensive and grasped for straws."

"But I can't just sit by and say nothing. Can't she see this is killing her? She's putting herself in a lot of danger over this Derek. All this nonsense with that fortuneteller has blinded her."

"Maybe we're the ones blinded."

"What?!"

"What do we really know about Derek? We only know what Darryl told us. Why don't we get to know him first hand, letting him speak for himself, before we make any judgements."

* * *

Phoebe spent the rest of the day and evening in her room. Piper was watching television that night, when she called out for Prue. "Prue! Come here quick! Look at this!"

Prue came running into the living room. "What! What is it? What's happening?"

"They showed the P3 on the news and talked about the shooting last night. Then they talked about Derek's involvement and now his involvement with the American Psychic Society."

On screen, the anchorman was saying, "...Millionaire, treasure hunter, explorer, private investigator, jeweler, and paramedic. Now, member and financier of the American Psychic Society."

"Did you hear that?" exclaimed Piper. "Our sister snagged a millionaire!"

"Not if I can help it," Prue muttered.

"And he has so many different occupations! No wonder he's always so busy!"

"Hopefully too busy for Phoebe."

The newsman went on, "To most Americans he's known as a super hero, fighting crime wherever he finds it." They showed a scene of Derek on the telephone, doing a Clint Eastwood impression, saying "Do you feel lucky, punk?" The anchorman added, "Just two months ago, he was deputized by the sheriff of Prescott County, Arizona, for the massive man hunt then." They showed a scene of Derek, in a long coat and Stetson, a bit unshaven, holding a cigarillo in his mouth and a rifle across the back of his neck. He walked along with several other scruffy looking characters, wearing deputy badges, in the lightly falling snow.

"Wow! He was a deputy sheriff too!" Piper marveled. "I wonder what else he was!"

* * *

Phoebe went back to the APS (American Psychic Society) house the following morning. Many of the other members eagerly greeted her. She had become popular as the first person to have a "psychic experience" in the house. Soon Derek arrived with a woman. She was beautiful, with long light brown hair, deep dark eyes, and a very pretty smile. This worried Phoebe, who fervently hoped this wasn't his wife or girlfriend. Derek went straight to Phoebe.

"You feeling better?"

"Yes. I'm fine. Thanks."

"Glad you could make it."

"So am I."

He turned to the woman with him. "This is the one I told you about." Then to Phoebe, "This is my cousin Brenda. She's visiting from Chicago. It's her habit to join me in opening a new APS branch."

Relieved, Phoebe greeted her heartily.

"All right, everybody!" Derek announced to the other members. "As soon as enough of the people in your clean-up crew show up, go to your assigned area!" To Phoebe, "I re-assigned you to the basement; as far from the attic as possible." Then to Brenda, "We need you in the basement too. There's still so much to be done."

When the attention on her died down, Phoebe quietly murmured to Brenda, "Could we go to the basement now, ahead of the others? I've got something to ask you."

Brenda consented and went with her. Phoebe closed the basement door and they sat down at the bottom of the stairs.

"I just want to ask you about Derek," Phoebe explained. "What was he like growing up?"

"Oh! Well, he was active, outgoing, playful, even prankish. He loves playing practical jokes. You've got to watch out for that."

"I will. Thanks. Does he have any brothers or sisters?"

"Two older brothers."

"Really! What a co-incidence! I'm the youngest of three sisters!"

"Yeah.... That is something."

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

"No. He broke up with his last girlfriend two months ago. His businesses take him to other parts of the world, very often, and most women want their man around most of the year."

The clanking of falling pipes caught their attention. Across the room from them sat a pile of disconnected water pipes. They figured it was just pipes settling after having been moved the day before. So Phoebe continued pumping Brenda with questions.

"So, how did he became so dedicated to the American Psychic Society?"

"He met a lot of people, who are psychics or mystics, and noticed that they were withdrawn from society, because they're afraid of being thought of as weird or crazy, and even being persecuted. So, when Derek discovered the APS, he endorsed it heavily, to help psychics to get a social life."

"I notice that your accent is different from his."

"I'm the city cousin. He's the country cousin."

"What city?"

"Springfield."

"Where exactly is he from?"

"He was born and raised on a farm outside Bourbon."

"Bourbon?! There's really a place with that name?"

"Yes. And he gets jokes about it all the time. But it's not named after the whiskey. It was named after the French royal family."

"So he's a farmboy."

"Yup. One hundred percent bumpkin."

They laughed but were once again interrupted by the clanking of pipes. This time they saw the pile of pipes moving towards them in a rolling wave motion. Phoebe and Brenda jumped to their feet. The pipes stopped.

"This is a phenomenon," Brenda concluded. "It merits investigation."

She stepped forward but Phoebe pulled her back. "Wait!"

On touching her, she had a vision of Brenda impaled to the basement door by four pipes; two through her shoulders and two through her hips. Brenda saw the look of horror on her face.

"What! What is it?"

"We've got to get you out here now!"

"Why?"

"Your life is in danger! I just had a prediction!"

"Look, Phoebe. I don't mean to cast any doubts on your psychic abilities..."

The pipes moved again. Phoebe grabbed Brenda by the hand and dragged her upstairs.

"On the other hand," Brenda continued. "Why tempt fate?"

Phoebe tried to open the door but couldn't. She desperately rattled the knob and pushed on the door.

"I can't open it! We're locked in!"

"And still on the other hand, fate is sealed."

Brenda glanced back over her shoulder in time to see several pipes come flying through the air. She quickly pushed Phoebe out of the way. "Phoebe! Look out!"

Phoebe went rolling to the deck but quickly scrambled to her feet. Looking up, she found Brenda crucified onto the door as in her vision. She now began hysterically screaming for help as Brenda hung silently in shock. From the other side of the door, others tried pulling the door open. The pipes arose, poised to strike again, like a bed of snakes.

Suddenly the door partly opened. The pipes driven into the door, through Brenda, prevented the door from being opened completely. An object, like a silver sphere, flew through the opening and exploded in the middle of the basement floor. When it released a swirling cloud of silvery sparkles, the pipes went noisily clattering to the floor.

Derek reached in with a small tank. It was attached to a mask, which he pressed to Brenda's face, and instructed her to breathe deeply. She did so until completely unconscious. Then he pulled back the tank and reached in with a circular power saw, which began cutting through the pipes.

By the time the last pipe was cut through, the sound of sirens were heard outside. The door could now be opened all the way. The other members gently eased Brenda off of the door. She was placed on a pile of clean sheet, then with as many clean cloths as they could find, they pressed on her wounds to help stop the bleeding. Meanwhile, Derek held Phoebe as she wept.

Just as the ambulance was pulling out, Prue and Piper were pulling up in front of the house. They ran to the front porch, where Morris waited.

"Where is she?" asked Prue.

"Inside."

Prue went on in.

"Thanks for calling us," said Piper.

Morris just tightened his lips and gave a nod.

They found Phoebe in the living room, where she sat in a chair, sobbing uncontrollably. A few of the wiccan stood around, rubbing her back, trying to sooth her. Prue and Piper thanked them, then conducted Phoebe out, wiping her face with tissues.

Back at home, they put her to bed. In the living room, Piper sat on the couch while Prue furiously paced.

"Again! That's twice in a row, she's gone to that house and come home... traumatized!.... This has got to stop!.... This will kill her!"

She became aware of Piper, just sitting silently, with arms folded and eyes downcast and empty.

"And look what it's doing to us!" she continued, close to tears. "We don't like seeing her going through this!"

Piper simply raised her eyes but still said nothing. She was afraid that if she just uttered one word, she'd lose it right there; she would just break down. As mediator between her sisters, she always wants to maintain that appearance of being in control, no matter how much it tears her apart inside.

The telephone rang and Pure picked it up. "Hello!"

"It's Darryl. How's Phoebe doing?"

"She's asleep."

"How are you and Piper holding up?"

"By a thread Darryl, what can you tell us about that house?"

"I just happened to have been doing a little research on that. The house was built in 1893, by Edgar William Morehead, a lumber mill magnate. The Morehead family became socialites, fitting easily into San Francisco's high society. At the turn of the century, his daughter Amelia went mad. She pulled out her own eyes, with her own bare hands, and died two years later in a mental hospital. It was after that, the Moreheads moved out of the house and no one's lived there since. We can guess why. And get this, the reason she went mad, they say, is because she dabbled heavily in the occult. She practiced witchcraft."

"Oh my God!"

"So, why do you think she would single out Phoebe to attack? Why would she want to kill a fellow witch?"

"I don't know. I might need more information to figure that out. Maybe she saw Phoebe as a rival and didn't want anyone else around with powers. Maybe she blamed witchcraft for all her problems and wanted revenge against all witches. It's so hard to tell; especially with someone who's insane."

"I'm hoping you can help me out on this one. I'm having a hard time explaining to my department what happened. McPhillps' people won't leave that house and I don't want to have to send my men back in there. No telling if they'll always come back out alive."

"All right, Darryl. We'll take care of it."

"By the way, McPhillips left for Chicago to take his cousin to a special surgeon. He wasn't suppose to leave town, as you heard me tell him, that night you first met. So when he gets back, I'll have to arrest him."

"Oh no! Do you really have to?"

"It's the law. I really have to."

After she hung up, she related everything to Piper.

"What was the 'Oh no' part all about?" Piper asked.

"Derek took his cousin to Chicago for special surgery. He wasn't suppose to leave town, so Darryl will have to arrest him when he gets back. Phoebe's already gone through so much without this."

"So, do we have to tell her?"

"She's going to find out when he gets back."

"But it's not that serious of an offense. It's not like he's going to serve life in prison."

"All right. We'll just delay telling her for a few days until she's feeling stronger."

In the attic, they looked through The Book of Shadows.

"Didn't you once use a spell to vanquish a ghost?" Piper asked.

"Yes. But that was a different kind of ghost. The spell that exorcised Jackson Ward (the one Phoebe saw at Alcatraz) wouldn't work on Elias Lundy (the one who tried to kill baby Matthew). So different types of ghosts require different kinds of spells. This one is the ghost of witch, or a person who wanted to be one. And she's insane."

"So then what are we looking for?"

"Let's look over everything to do with ghosts. They must be something that, at least, comes close to what we need."

"Will Phoebe be joining us? She's much better at creating and modifying spells than we are."

"We'll see how she feels by this evening."

That evening, the three stood at the door of the APS home. Prue concentrated on the door locks.

Piper put an arm around Phoebe. "You sure you're up to this?"

"I'm sure. I'm all right."

"We'll be close by at all times."

"I know that. Thanks."

Finally the locks clicked open and they went in. With flashlights, they made their way through the empty house. Phoebe led them up the attic. They could feel an inhuman presence chill them to the bone. At the end of the attic room, where Phoebe had the vision of the ghost, they stood with their backs to the wall. Each took out a sprig of lilac and myrrh and began waving them side to side.

"Spirits of the Stygian Lands,
Break the chains. Break the bands."

The floorboards began rattling under their feet.

"Guardian spirits, show your grace.
Free the one bound to this place."

Although the windows were closed, a cold wind blew through the attic. A stiff gust pushed them back against the wall. But they kept at it.

"Lords of Styx, Nymphs of Mors,
Take this soul to your shores."

The whole room began shaking. From the middle of the floor, a luminous cloud arose.

"Take the madness. Take the pain.
Erase from here the doleful stain."

Amidst the cloud, a human form took shape. They saw a young woman in a Victorian gown, with empty eye sockets and her fists clenched in front of her. The sisters swung the herbs in front of them more strongly and chanted more loudly.

"Spirits of the Stygian Lands,
Break the chains! Break the bands!
Guardian spirits, show your grace!
Free the one bound to this place!"

The apparition opened her hand and eyes appeared back in her eye sockets. She grew brighter and a light filled the whole room.

"Lords of Styx, Nymphs of Mors,
Take this soul to your shores!
Take the madness! Take the pain!
Erase from here the doleful stain!"

The wind grew stronger and the all of the windows exploded outward.

"Spirits of the Stygian Lands,
Break the chains! Break the bands!"

Suddenly the apparition vanished and everything went quiet. The sisters milled around the attic, sensing for a presence but found none.

"She's gone," Phoebe announced. "She's free."

Piper glanced out of one of the broken windows and noticed lights going on the nearby houses.

"We won't be if we don't get out of here now."

Quickly and quietly, they went down the stairs, out the back door, through the back yard and back gate, then down the dark alley. The made it to their car, a block away, without being seen.

Phoebe again went back to the APS, this time in the late afternoon. Inside, some tables and chairs had been set up in the reception area and a few members sat around. She went to those she recognized from her wiccan circle. Irene was the first to greet her.

"Phoebe! How are you feeling?"

"Much better. Thank you. I would have been here this morning but I had classes all day."

"My goodness! You're a trooper! You just keep bouncing back no matter what!"

"Well, I'm dedicated to this project. So, what have we done today?"

"Our group put up wallpaper in the living room. Next, another group will polish the floors before nightfall. Tomorrow, some of the furniture arrives."

"Wow! Everything's just moving along, aren't they? Who's in charge of all this while Derek is gone?"

"Vincent Davis. Derek chose him as chief coordinator because of his in psychic investigation experiences and organizing skills."

"Oh Good! Well..."

Then Gail cut in. "Did you hear what happened last night?"

"No. What?"

"Someone broke in and smashed all the windows in the attic. The police were her this morning."

"Did they find out who did it?"

"No. They just asked a few questions, took down a report, and left. They didn't want to stay long."

"Who can blame them?" Irene commented. "After what happened yesterday."

"Has anyone heard from Derek about Brenda?" Phoebe went on.

"No, not yet. We had the phone lines hooked up today and Vincent will be bringing in the phones later. He has Derek's number so he'll be calling him tonight."

Phoebe wanted to be there for that moment, to see if she might have a chance to talk to Derek. So she busied herself with whatever was needed at the time. She swept out one room, cleaned the windows of another, helped put up wallpaper in another, painted the baseboards and door posts of another, and so on.

When Vincent finally arrived, he set down a telephone on a table nearest to the telephone outlet and plugged it in. Others came in and hooked up an electronic board, full of buttons, to the phone. Then there were others, carrying large boxes full of new telephones.

"I'll give you all 10 minutes then we start the testing." he told them. "If all goes well, I'll call the big guy."

The others went off to plug in telephones all over this huge house. Vincent looked at his watch to begin timing. As he began the wait, Phoebe saw her opportunity to ask. She approached him meekly hunched over.

"Uh Vincent? Hi! It's Phoebe. Uh... I just want to know... when you call Derek... if I could talk with him too briefly... very briefly. I just want to ask about Brenda since I was there when..."

"I don't see why not. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

He knew, as the other members, that Phoebe was the "star psychic" of this new group, and didn't mind slipping her a few privileges. Phoebe took a seat near the table and waited with excitement. She was glad Derek left a people person in charge. When Vincent checked his watch again, he picked up the phone and began pressing the keys on the electronic board one by one.

"Larry! How's she sound? Good! Bill! How's she sound? Good! Charles! How's she sound?.... " And so on down the line. Sixty-two extensions in all to check. Each man had to answer ten or twelve phones, running from one to the other after each check. When that was out of the way, he dialed a long-distance number. Phoebe sat at the edge of her chair. This was it.

"Hey, Derek!" Vincent chimed. "San Francisco calling! Yes! Doing fine! How's yourself? Okay. Everything's swept out and taken to the landfill. Everything else is cleaned up. On the first floor, everything's been painted, wallpapered, or polished. Second floor is about half painted and wallpapered. So I'd say about another two or three days should do it."

Then he noticed Phoebe at the edge of her chair, leaning forward, eyes wide, teeth clenched, and wringing her hands.

"Excuse me, Derek. There's someone here anxious to talk to you."

He handed the phone to Phoebe, who snatched it up eagerly.

"Derek! It's Phoebe! How's Brenda? Is she going to be all right? Really? Is she all right?"

Derek held out the phone. "Tell her you're all right."

"I'm all right!" Brenda called out from her bed. Derek brought the phone to her.

Phoebe was elated. "Brenda! Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me!"

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear your voice again!"

"It's good to hear you too."

"So, you're going to be all right?"

"Sure. We know some very good surgeons here. I just got home from the hospital."

"Will you... be able to walk again?"

"Oh yes! Full use of my limbs, they said."

"Oh! I'm so relieved! I'm so glad!"

"So am I!"

"Will you ever come back this way?"

"I'll be there for the opening party, even if I have to crawl all the way."

"Party? What party?"

"When a new APS branch is opened, we initiate it with a huge bash. I never miss one."

"Great! I look forward to seeing you again. What are doing meantime?"

"Just laying around the house and eating lots of fruit. Notice that whenever you're in a hospital, people just give you lots of fruit?"

Phoebe laughed a little, then grew pensive. "Brenda, you saved my life at the risk of your own. I can't forget that."

"Oh, don't start getting sloppy on me now! You just take care of yourself so I don't have to keep doing it again and again."

"Right... Well... I've got to go now. Derek and Vincent still have a lot to talk about." (From here on, Phoebe and Brenda became very close friends.)

Phoebe went over to her wiccan friends, full of excitement.

"She sounds great! She's sounds so strong and in good humor!"

"Oh, great news, Honey!" said Irene. "That's just wonderful!"

Phoebe now had time to relax and just talk with her friends. It also gave her time to think about other things.

"Do you know what that thing was, thrown in the basement, when all this happened? It stopped another attack after Brenda was injured."

None of the wiccan knew. But Greg, a young man, who was with the basement clean-up crew, volunteered the answer.

"I know. Derek told us before he left. He called it a 'ghost bomb'."

"Ghost bomb? Seriously?"

"Yeah. It's like a crackerball, which you throw on the sidewalk and it pops."

"I know. I've played with those when I was little. But that was one huge crackerball. What was in it?"

"He said salt, silver, and a special dust. He wouldn't tell us what the special dust is."

"Salt and silver do repel spirits, as well as other entities of darkness. 'Special dust'? Sounds like a secret potion. How did he open the door?"

"He just turned the knob and pulled."

"But I couldn't open it from the inside and you couldn't open it from the outside. How did Derek do it?"

"We never thought of that. We were more worried about you and Brenda, so none of us bothered to ask about that."

"Is he psychic? Do you know?"

"No. He never told us."

"The night we first met, he shot two men hiding in the dark, ready to ambush him. And I couldn't see or hear them, but knew they were there even before they fired a shot. Do you know how he could have done that?"

Greg shrugged. "Maybe he is psychic then. He hasn't told anyone. Maybe doesn't want to brag."

Phoebe thought hard on this and began muttering. "Sees in the dark. Secret powers. Stronger than a ghost. Secret potions. Sounds like a warlock."

Greg overheard her and laughed. "Yeah! Right!"

Phoebe laughed too. "Oh, I'm just getting silly! It's been a long hard day and now I'm just babbling nonsense!"

Still she wondered and worried.