The War on Witches (8 page)

Phoebe took Charlene's hands. She didn't need to be an empath to imagine exactly how the woman felt. “It's possible. Can you try to do something for us? Something small, maybe?”

Charlene looked over at the broken lamp. “It's dark in here. Let me light a candle.” She focused on the one candle on the mantle that hadn't been knocked to the floor. Her eyes bore into it, like she was willing it to burst into flame. She stared and stared until her eyes let loose tears, but still could not manage a flicker.

“It's gone,” she whispered. “It's gone.”

Phoebe squeezed her hands. “We don't know if it's permanent,” she said. “But we're doing all we can to see that it isn't. And we want to make sure that Emily and whoever she's working with can't do this to anyone else.”

Charlene wiped her tears with the palm of her hand. “Tell me what I can do.”

“You said her name was Fisk?” Phoebe asked.

“Emily Fisk-Navarro,” Charlene said. “She married a man from Madrid. A lovely gentleman, actually. Far too good for her.”

“It's the Fisk part I'm interested in,” Phoebe said.

“You recognize that too?” Piper asked.

“I think so,” Phoebe said.

“She's from one of the oldest families in the area,” Charlene said.

“Do you recognize the name Perly?” Phoebe asked.

“Oh, yes,” Charlene replied. “That's from another original family.”

“That was Henry,” Paige said as she returned. “There was an attack on a witch in Philadelphia earlier this afternoon.”

“Prue didn't sense anything,” Piper said.

“This one failed,” Paige explained. “Or was interrupted. There was a shooting at a museum. The police aren't exactly sure what happened. Henry's contact at the police department flagged it because of the mysterious green herbs found at the scene.”

“Did they catch the guy?” Piper asked. “Or gal? I'm guessing attacks in three cities means three different attackers.”

“He got away,” Paige said. “But he wasn't alone. Security cameras picked up someone else. The guy with the gun—he kept his face shielded from the cameras, but the kid who tried to attack—”

“Kid?” Piper asked.

“College student,” Paige said. “They identified him from the video somehow. They haven't released the name to the media, but Henry's inspector friend called in a favor. It's a kid named Austin Herrick.”

“That's it!” Phoebe burst out, squeezing Charlene's hands in excitement. “He's from one of the older families too, right? And when you said ‘in the area' you didn't mean Boston. You meant Salem.”

“That's right,” Charlene said. “And those families have something else in common as well.”

“They were jurors during the time of the witch trials,” Phoebe said to her sisters. “They were the ones who condemned Melinda Warren to death.”

Piper gave a gentle knock on the dorm room door, hoping that the occupant wouldn't yell out to ask who it was. The hallway was empty and she didn't want to call any attention to herself and her sisters. They wanted to get in and out with as little drama as possible. “We should go easy on the girl,” she warned. “She's probably going to be a little jumpy. Someone did shoot at her today.”

“We're used to dealing with people who've had fireballs thrown at them,” Phoebe reminded her. “I think we're good.”

The door swung open to reveal a young woman dressed in pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt that bore a smiley face with vampire fangs. She looked over the Charmed Ones with disdain. “I'm not giving interviews. I don't want to be a spokesperson for gun rights—or anti–gun rights for that matter. And how the hell did you get past the front desk?”

“Yeah. I think she's good,” Paige said to Piper before putting on a bright smile and checking over the girl's shoulder to make sure the room was as empty as the hall. “We're not reporters. You might want to consider your position on gun rights though. And we got into the dorm like this.” She orbed herself into the room.

The girl grabbed at her heart dramatically. “Oh my Goddess!”

“
Jumpy,
Paige,” Piper called into the room. “I said go easy on her.”

“I'm tired of the explaining part. Figured I'd cut to the chase. Show, don't tell.” Paige picked a sketchbook off the bed. “Nice work.”

“Excuse me.” The girl pulled the sketchpad out of Paige's hand. “Personal boundaries, please.”

“I'd say she's handling herself fine,” Phoebe said as she pushed past Piper and joined Paige in the dorm room.

Piper shrugged as she followed, closing the door behind her. She'd been a mother longer so it was possible she was a tad more overprotective than her sisters. Give it a year or two and Piper was fairly certain they'd be right along with her when it came to protecting their Innocents.

The girl's walls were decorated with beautiful sketches mixed with politically themed posters. A portrait of an elderly woman on a bench sat beside a presidential Hope poster, while a drawing of a hummingbird floated above a giant X.

Piper lived at home during college, but she'd been in enough friends' rooms at the time to recognize the traditional mix of personal touches and political statements. It was typical of that stage of life when young adults were learning how to express themselves. “I don't think I invited you into my room,” the girl said.

Paige took a seat by her desk. “We're witches, not vampires, Alysha. We can go wherever we please.”

“Paige!” Piper let out an exasperated huff, before focusing on the girl. “I'm sorry. It's been a long day. You probably have some idea what I'm talking about.”

“Some.” Alysha plopped down on her bed, pulling her sketchpad into her lap. “How do you know my name? Did you read my mind?”

“No,” Phoebe said. “We read the police report.”

Alysha nodded like it was only natural that witches would be working with law enforcement. “And you are?”

“I'm Piper. These are my sisters Phoebe and Paige. We were hoping you could tell us what happened today. The parts you
didn't
tell the police.” Piper had initially thought the girl was being too casual about the encounter. That changed when she saw a hand sliding not so casually beneath the thin dorm room mattress. “Paige!”

“Mystery item!” Paige held out a hand and hundreds of orbs collected above it, dropping down into the form of a metal tube. With a flick of the wrist, the metal shot out from Paige's hand, revealing itself as an expandable baton. Paige gave a sly smile as she examined the weapon. “I
like
her.”

The girl tensed on her bed, but didn't move. “You can't be too careful.”

“We're not going to hurt you,” Phoebe said. “We just need to know about your attacker. The one that may have had a book with him? We think the guy with the gun might have been there to stop him.”

Alysha looked them over one last time like she was determining whether or not to trust them. “No, that's not it,” she finally said. “It was the other way around. The guy with the book was trying to stop the one with the gun. That's when it went off. The gun, not the book.”

“Okay, now I'm confused,” Paige said. “Could you walk us through the story?”

Alysha described the events at the museum, beginning with the moment she first heard the younger guy. She'd figured he was just trying to pick her up, but then he got all weird with his book and tried to act like he was about to do her some kind of favor. It wasn't long after that she saw the dark-haired guy with the gun approach and suddenly she was telling them how she dove into the next room and hid inside a hollowed-out egg sculpture representing a woman's womb.

“Interesting,” Piper said to her sisters. “Nat mentioned how that Jacob guy also acted like he was doing her a favor when he took her powers.”

“Nat?” Alysha asked. “Took her powers?”

“It's okay,” Phoebe assured her. “We don't think they'll be coming back now that this incident made the news.”

Piper eyed the sketchbook. “You didn't happen to draw any pictures of the men?”

Alysha clutched the book tighter. “I made one of the armed guy for the police since they couldn't get a picture of him off the security tapes.”

“And the younger guy?” Piper asked.

Alysha flipped the sketchbook open and handed it over to Piper. “I thought he was kind of cute. In a goofy way. I know, I'm setting women back decades, getting a crush on my attacker, but I don't think he was there to hurt me.”

“Oh, honey, we've all been there,” Phoebe said.

“Some of us are still there,” Paige replied, earning herself a glare from Phoebe.

“Just because he wasn't aiming a gun at you doesn't mean he wasn't dangerous,” Piper said as she looked over the picture. She understood what Alysha meant by “goofy cute.” He was slight and a little awkward looking, how she drew him, with light, mussed hair, ears that stuck out a bit, and a scruff of stubble on his chin. The shy smile on his face said a lot about Alysha's interpretation of him. He was the kind of guy Piper would hire to mow her lawn, only to have to go over the yard herself after he left to fix what he'd done. “That book he had with him could have done a lot of damage.”

“No, that's not it,” Alysha said. “He was more worried about what I thought he was doing than what he was actually doing. I still don't know what he was there to do, but I'm pretty sure he didn't want to do it. Like, the guy with the gun was forcing him.”

Piper held up the page. “Can we take this?”

“Sure.” Alysha looked down at the ground and mumbled, “I have another one.”

Piper let Alysha tear the page out of the book for her as she bit her tongue. It wasn't her place to make speeches about developing crushes on potentially dangerous men. The Charmed Ones did give Alysha some instructions to help keep her safe in case either of the men came back. They also gave her their phone numbers so they'd be the first call in case of emergency. “Call Paige before you do anything else,” Piper instructed. “She can get here fastest.”

“Time to get a move on,” Phoebe said, taking her sisters by the hand.

“There's one more place I want to stop before we go home,” Paige said as they orbed out of the dorm room.

“A janitor's closet?” Piper asked as she took in their surroundings. “Really?”

“Next time you need to travel around the country, catch a flight and then you can enjoy those spacious airline seats.” Paige pulled her foot out of the bucket she'd orbed herself into and listened at the door to make sure no one was outside.

It was after hours at police headquarters in Philadelphia, but she didn't want to risk running into anyone on the graveyard shift. The janitor's closet was a better choice than orbing the three of them into a bathroom stall. Last thing she needed was to be pulling her foot out of a toilet.

“I can't believe we're breaking into a police station,” Phoebe said.

“Yeah, because our frequent visits to the Underworld are normal things people do,” Paige replied.

“Do we even know where they keep the evidence?” Piper asked.

“Can't be that hard to figure out. We just need to find a directory.” Paige peeked out the door. The coast seemed pretty clear, except for the camera pointed luckily in the other direction. “Oh, Piper.”

Paige pointed out the camera and Piper froze the hallway. This gave them plenty of time to escape the janitor's closet and search for something that would lead them in the right direction without the camera revealing they were in the hall. Whoever was looking at the video feed from that camera would be treated to an image that didn't change while they made their way past.

With each turn, Piper froze the halls, keeping the cameras locked on images free of the Charmed Ones. The night shift kept the building active enough that they probably wouldn't be noticed mixed in with everyone else that was actually supposed to be there. The real concern was later when the police checked the tapes. Considering that evidence was about to go missing, the Charmed Ones wanted to make sure there was no record of their being on the premises after the fact.

“What do you all make of this kid wanting to protect Alysha?” Paige asked. “Love at first sight or something else?”

“Maybe he's stuck in the family business,” Phoebe suggested. “And he doesn't want to have any part of hurting witches. Could've been his dad with the gun.”

“If these people going after witches are descendants of Melinda Warren's jurors, could this have something to do with us?” Piper asked as they continued their search.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Phoebe waited for Piper to freeze the stairwell before they made their way to the next floor up. “They were the same jurors for all the trials. You know, the ones that condemned all the women that had no power to defend themselves.”

“Their descendants have had over three hundred years to get over the fact that the trials were an embarrassment to their families and a dark spot in our history,” Paige said softly as their footsteps and voices echoed through the empty stairwell. “So why the hell are they going after real witches now?”

“I guess that's the point,” Phoebe said. “Imagine your family spent centuries living down the fact that your ancestors murdered women accused of practicing witchcraft when everyone now believes there's no such thing as witches. Then you find out that—
guess what
—witches are
real. They could be in this for payback.”

“It's possible,” Piper said as she froze the hallway outside the stairwell. “It just doesn't make a lot of sense.”

Paige held the door open for her sisters. “Need I remind you that we're breaking into a police station to steal evidence? Very little we do makes any sense.”

Phoebe shrugged. “We'll get more out of the evidence than any police investigators will. And it's one less tie to the magical community when that herb concoction disappears. You were right to bring us here, Paige. We need to get that evidence.”

Paige pointed to a sign at an intersection that directed visitors to several locations, including the one they were looking for. “Evidence,” she read. “That way.”

Piper froze the next hall, which brought them to a door that was their destination. “Would it really be in evidence storage?” she asked. “Wouldn't someone be examining it?”

“Henry said they wouldn't have the tools to do that here,” Paige replied. “It would have to be sent out someplace. To protect the chain of evidence, it would be held here until a messenger picked it up.”

“Wouldn't it go out immediately?” Phoebe asked.

“You'd think,” Paige replied, pulling the door open slightly. “But if Philly is even half as backed up as the SFPD, we'll be good. This is our best shot. Once it's at the lab it will be harder to find and it could be there for weeks. We don't have that kind of time to wait. Piper?”

Piper froze the room through the crack in the doorway before Paige opened it all the way. They were in a small chamber with a counter and a metal cage separating them from rows and rows of shelves filled with white cardboard boxes with writing on them. The officer behind the counter—and the metal cage—was frozen as he read a file.

Paige didn't waste any time orbing them through the cage and into the file room.

Phoebe eyed the shelves. “This is going to take forever.”

Paige bypassed the many rows of boxes. “It wouldn't be in storage yet. It would be someplace in easy reach for pickup.”

“There.” Piper pointed to a table beside the counter. It was covered with envelopes of various sizes and thicknesses.

“Good eye,” Paige said as she reached for the envelopes.

“Fingerprints!” Phoebe snapped.

Paige stopped before she touched anything. “Good
catch.
” She leaned over the table, reading the labels on the envelopes. “Got it!” She held out a hand. “Bottle!” A glass bottle with sparkly green powder orbed into her hand as the envelope on the table deflated.

All three of the Charmed Ones leaned in to look at the mystery powder. “So that's what this is all about?” Phoebe asked. “I don't recognize it.”

“Looks like oregano,” Piper said. “But sparkly. We'll find out what it is soon enough. Orb us back to Prue's.”

“Actually,” Phoebe said. “I should get working—”

“No,” Paige said.

“No?” Piper and Phoebe replied in unison.

“It is our children's bedtimes on the West Coast,” Paige reminded them. “Between Halliwell's and this magic book/herb concoction, I haven't seen my kids all day. I'm going home to put them to bed and then spend some quality time with my husband. I've also decided you two are going to do the same. All this can wait till tomorrow.”