“Here in San Francisco?” Paige asked.
“All over the country,” Daryl replied, his tone serious.
“You’re kidding,” Piper said, shooting her sisters a disturbed glance.
“I wish I were,” Daryl replied. He started to pace the room, as he often did when he had pent-up energy to expend. His well-shined shoes squeaked on the tile floor as he moved, and Phoebe almost got dizzy watching him.
“I was investigating a disappearance this morning and I was talking to one of the missing girl’s friends,” Daryl explained. “She tells me that the missing girl, Clarissa, was a member of a coven and that she and her sister witches were worried that something like this might happen. Turns out that this girl’s cousin is in a coven back east, and there has been a rash of disappearances out there over the last couple of weeks.”
“What defines a rash?” Piper asked.
“At least sixteen that I know if. Maybe more.” Daryl stopped pacing momentarily and pulled a folded piece of paper from his breast pocket. He flattened it out on the island, and Phoebe, Paige, Leo, and Piper all leaned over it to read.
“‘Attention Wiccans,’” Phoebe read aloud. “‘Please be on the alert! Wiccans are being kidnapped. We know of eight covens that have been hit in the last few days from Boston to New York to Virginia and as far south as Florida. The kidnappings often happen in the middle of the night while the victim is sleeping. Please be aware of your surroundings, lock up at night, invest in an alarm system. Do anything to protect yourself! Let us know if you hear of any more disturbing incidents. We have to protect one another. Your sisters and brothers need your help!’”
Phoebe felt a little chill run down her spine as she looked at her sisters.
“Why haven’t we heard about this?” Piper demanded.
“Yeah. Where did you get this, Daryl?” Paige asked, sliding the printout toward her.
“From this girl I was talking to this morning,” Daryl replied. “Apparently it’s been e-mailed out to all the covens that are on the Web.”
“And you don’t want to go digital,” Paige said, shooting Piper a look.
“You said sixteen. This says eight,” Piper pointed out, ignoring Paige’s comment.
“I did some digging and found some more,” Daryl explained, running his hand over his short, dark hair. “A lot of these police departments didn’t even make the Wicca connection, but this has happened in Texas, Chicago, Wisconsin…. It’s almost like these sickos are working their way west.”
“And now they’re here,” Phoebe said, her voice shaking slightly.
“There have already been three kidnappings in the Bay Area,” Daryl said. He put his hands on his hips and blew out a sigh. “I just figured you guys should know. I mean, being who you are—”
“You could definitely be next,” Leo put in, spelling out what every one of them was thinking.
“Do you know anything about the kidnapper?” Piper asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” Daryl replied. “Each victim was taken in the middle of the night, like the e-mail says, but other than that and the Wicca thing, there’s no evidence linking the crimes. Whoever’s doing this is doing it clean.”
“I’m gonna go check with the elders about this,” Leo said, taking a step back from Piper. “They have to be concerned if this many Wiccans are missing.”
“Let us know what you find out,” Piper said.
“Of course,” Leo replied, giving her a reassuring smile.
He orbed out, leaving the kitchen in an eerie state of silence. Phoebe looked at the e-mail warning, feeling another chill of foreboding. She couldn’t imagine what it was like for these poor, innocent people, being snatched from their homes in the middle of the night. They must have been so scared.
“Daryl, is there anything we can do?” Phoebe asked, her adrenaline starting to kick in.
“Actually, I was hoping you’d offer,” Daryl replied. “I don’t want to put you guys in any danger, but if you could talk to a few of these covens in the area…I don’t know, maybe they’ll open up to you guys more easily. Maybe they know something and don’t even realize it.”
“Of course,” Paige said, touching Daryl’s arm. “We’d be happy to help.”
“We’ll do whatever we can,” Piper added.
Phoebe took the e-mail page and stared down at it. A few of the words seemed to jump out at her: kidnapped…protect…alert…help….
“We have to find out who’s taking these people,” Phoebe said grimly, leveling Paige, Piper, and Daryl with a determined glare. “And we have to do it before anyone else has to suffer.”
Chapter
2
Piper sat down on the edge of an overstuffed couch in the middle of Missy Stark’s living room, feeling completely conspicuous. She wasn’t sure what bothered her about the place, but she felt as if she didn’t belong. Missy had invited her in easily enough when Piper said the police had sent her, but she just couldn’t get comfortable. The walls of the room were covered with dark blue wallpaper that had gold crescent moons printed all over it. Every window was hung with about ten thin, colorful drapes, and there were candles in different stages of meltdown on almost every surface.
Missy was in the kitchen making tea, and Piper could hear dishes rattling. She looked down at the table in front of her and noticed it was piled with books about witchcraft. The Wiccan Year, Day by Day; A Guide to Crystals and the Power of Color; Your Coven and You. Piper smirked and it suddenly hit her. She was uncomfortable because Missy Stark was exactly the type of person she avoided—a touchy-feely Wiccan earth mother. Exactly the type of person that had kept Piper from taking Paige up on her Las Vegas trip.
Missy walked back into the room, her red ringlets catching the sunlight from the nearest window as she managed a wan smile. Piper’s stomach turned dangerously as she realized there were dried tear streaks on Missy’s face. Here she was making snap judgments about Missy, and she’d just lost one of her closest friends. It was time for Piper to focus on her purpose for being here.
“Thank you,” Piper said as Missy placed a tray of teacups and butter cookies on top of her books on the table. She moved to the edge of her seat and crossed her legs at the knee. “So, you were going to tell me more about Clarissa.”
“Oh! Let me find a picture!” Missy said, standing again before she even had time to hit the chair across the table. She seemed like a bundle of nerves as she flitted around the room, looking at framed photos on tables and on windowsills. “Here’s one!” she said finally, picking up a silver frame that was decorated with pink and purple crystals.
Her flowy, flowered dress billowed behind her as she walked over to the couch and handed the frame to Piper. She took a few steps back, folding her hands and watching for Piper’s reaction almost like a proud mother.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Missy asked. “Everyone she meets comments on that hair.”
Piper held the frame gingerly between her fingertips. The first thought that popped into her mind when she looked at Clarissa’s face was the word angel. Clarissa had pale, almost luminous skin. The lightest blond hair Piper had ever seen seemed to float around her face, and her bright blue eyes seemed happy and sorrowful at the same time.
“She’s beautiful,” Piper said, handing the picture back. Missy replaced the frame on the table where she’d found it and finally sat down across the coffee table from Piper. “You told the police that she disappeared in the middle of the night, is that right?” Piper asked.
“Yes,” Missy said, leaning forward and pouring out two cups of tea from a flowered pot. “I talked to her right before bed around eleven o’clock. The next morning we were supposed to meet for an early breakfast, but she didn’t answer the door when I got there. I know where she keeps her key, so I went to let myself in, but the lock was broken. I know I should have just called the police right then and there, but I had to find out if she was okay, so I just went in. Her bedroom was a mess, and there was a trail of bro
ken things down the steps and out of the house…as if there had been a struggle.”
Missy broke off and Piper held her breath, hoping the woman wouldn’t cry. Piper felt badly for her and she wasn’t sure what she’d say if Missy lost control of her emotions. That everything was going to be okay? How could she say that when they had no idea what had happened to Clarissa? But Missy held it together. She handed Piper a cup of tea and settled back into her chair, balancing her own cup on its saucer.
A broken lock, Piper thought. That sounds like a human thing to do. Demons could usually enter a house without resorting to such rudimentary tactics. Still, it could be that a demon was trying to throw them off his trail. Some of them were smart enough to mess with their own crime scenes in order to do just that.
“I just don’t understand it,” Missy said. “She didn’t have any enemies, her family was very supportive of her…everyone loved her.”
“Maybe someone loved her too much,” Piper suggested before taking a sip of her tea. “Any ex-boyfriends?”
Missy seemed startled by the question, as if it was unthinkable. “No. Well…yes. She broke up with Theo about a year ago, but it was totally amicable. Besides, he’s backpacking in Europe right now. She just got a postcard from him the other day.”
So much for that, Piper thought. It had been a long shot anyway. It wasn’t like Clarissa’s ex was out there kidnapping Wiccans all over the place. “What about your coven?” she asked. “Any jealousy? A power struggle?”
“Well, Clarissa is our high priestess, so obviously she’s in a position of power,” Missy said with an easy smile. She took a long sip of her tea, then placed her cup and saucer down on the table. “But our coven is peaceful. We all get along, and Clarissa’s ascension to the position was unanimously supported. The Goddess is strong in her.”
Piper had to concentrate to keep from rolling her eyes. “What do you mean by that?” she asked, trying hard to keep all sarcasm out of her voice. It made her sound completely toneless.
“You’re going to think I’m insane,” Missy said, scoffing and looking away. She brought her thumb to her lips and chewed on the side, looking at Piper out of the corner of her eye.
“You can trust me,” Piper said, leaning forward slightly. “I could tell you a lot of things that would probably make you think I’m insane.”
Missy took a deep breath, her chest rising slowly as she considered Piper. “Okay, maybe it’ll help, but I warned you,” she said finally. Then she bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. “Clarissa can see things.”
Piper saw a little red flag go up in her mind’s eye. Maybe Clarissa and her friends weren’t your run-of-the-mill Wiccans. Missy opened one eye as if she was afraid to see Piper’s reaction.
“What kinds of things?” Piper asked point-blank.
“When she touches an object…any object…she can see the last person who touched it. Almost like a premonition or a vision,” Missy explained, a hint of excitement in her voice. “She can even tell what they were feeling when they held that object, and can sometimes tell what they did next—after putting it down.”
“Wow, that’s some power,” Piper said, clearing her throat as she put her cup down.
“Clarissa has always been able to sense emotions by touching objects, but she had her first real premonition a few weeks ago,” Missy said with a wistful smile. “She was at a bank and picked up the pen at the counter after a woman with two small children had used it. She said the woman had felt happy and at peace when she used the pen, but then Clarissa saw a vision of the woman being hit by a car after she walked out of the bank. Clarissa wasn’t even sure if it was true or if she was crazy, but she stopped the woman and delayed her by asking about her children’s school. A few moments later a car careened out of control and hit a pole right outside the bank. It was just as Clarissa had seen in her vision, except that the woman wasn’t harmed.”
“That’s amazing,” Piper said, her thoughts turning to Phoebe and her power of premonition. She was happy to hear that Clarissa used her premonitions to help people as well. Sometimes people with power like that didn’t know how to control it and ended up using it for their own gain. Or for simple, good old, run-of-the-mill evil.
“No one else in our coven even approaches that kind of gift,” Missy said.
Maybe someone didn’t want her to use it on him, Piper thought, a little line of sweat popping up along her forehead. Maybe someone wanted to silence her power. She felt her heart start to pound, and suddenly she needed to get out of there and find her sisters. She had to make sure they were okay.
“How many people know about Clarissa’s power?” Piper asked, wiping her hands on the thighs of her jeans.
“Just the coven,” Missy replied. “You can imagine why she wouldn’t want it advertised. If the wrong people found out…”
Missy trailed off, and she and Piper exchanged a look. They both knew exactly what could happen if the wrong people found out. It already had.
“Well, thank you for your time,” Piper said, rising from the couch.
“Do you think there’s any chance they’ll find her?” Missy asked, practically jumping out of her seat to follow Piper to the door.
“We’re going to do everything we can, I promise,” Piper said comfortingly. “Someone will be in touch.”
She turned and headed for the SUV, her pace quickening with each step. All she wanted to do was find Daryl, Paige, and Phoebe and tell them the news—she had a possible motive. And if she was right, the Charmed Ones were definitely in danger.
“This house is huge,” Paige said to Elijah Baker as he led her through one living room and into another. Her high-heeled boots clicked loudly on the freshly buffed marble floor. “Your mortgage must be pretty steep.”
Elijah was a member of a coven of male and female Wiccans that had lost one of their members the week before. His home was an old, classic Victorian but was decorated with modern styles—a lot of black leather and chrome. It was the kind of place that made Paige too intimidated to touch anything and made her pull her leather jacket closer to her body so that she wouldn’t bump into anything, either. It was beautiful, but not exactly welcoming.
“Well, I don’t live here alone,” Elijah said as he stepped over to a huge slate fireplace. He took down a large photograph of about a dozen people set inside a shining silver frame. “Most of the members of the coven live here as well. Kind of a…mystical frat house, if you will. Except that some of the women live here, too.”
“Oh, well, that’s cool,” Paige said, feeling completely inarticulate. Normally Paige could talk to anyone, but something about Elijah and about her surroundings was throwing her.
He handed her the photograph and Paige looked it over, a slight shiver running over her skin. All the men and women in the picture looked so stern and rigid. Not a single one of them was smiling. Apparently these people took their coven very seriously.
“That’s Samson in the center,” Elijah said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Paige looked at the missing Wiccan and found herself suddenly smiling. Samson was a well-built, handsome African-American man with a shaved head and light brown eyes. Even though his mouth was set in a straight line like everyone else’s, she could tell his eyes were smiling. She knew on instinct that Samson was a nice person—someone who could kick back and relax even in the midst of all the proper people that seemed to surround him.
Suddenly Elijah slipped the frame from her hands and replaced it carefully on the mantel, adjusting it until it was perfectly straight and centered.
“Let’s go to the kitchen,” he said, turning quickly on his heel.
Paige flushed at his clipped and cold tone, wondering if she had done something to offend him. Elijah was plain, tall, and lanky with light brown hair and brown eyes, and his manner was detached and almost off-putting. Not what she would have expected from a Wiccan. She always pictured other witches as spiritual, all-loving, patient, and kind. Of course, that
snap assessment was just as judgmental as Piper’s idea that all Wiccans were touchy-feely wanna-bes. Besides, she had to cut the guy some slack. He had just lost one of his friends.
Paige followed him into the next room, where he sat down at the head of a long chrome kitchen table with eight black high-backed chairs around it. She lowered herself into the chair catty-corner from Elijah’s. It was hard as a rock, so she sat forward slightly in an attempt to get comfortable. She looked at Elijah, and he gazed back at her with narrowed eyes, as if he was sizing her up.
“Does Samson live here?” Paige asked, trying to straighten her posture and appear official under Elijah’s watchful gaze. She always hated posing as someone who worked with the police department—the part of a stuffed shirt just didn’t suit her.
“Yes. He was kidnapped from here,” Elijah answered. He settled his elbows on the armrests of his chair and folded his hands away from his chest. Paige saw the muscles in his jaw working as if he was angry or thinking of something he didn’t like to remember.
“Are you all right?” Paige asked.
“I’m fine,” Elijah answered, his eyes flicking over her. “It’s just that he was sleeping right down the hall from me and a half dozen of our brethren. I don’t understand how we didn’t hear anything. I suppose these people knew what they were doing.”
Paige’s heart went out to Elijah. Cold-mannered or not, he was clearly hurting. “It’s not your fault,” she told him, resisting the urge to touch his arm. She had a feeling Elijah was not the type that liked to be touched by strangers.
He took in a long, deep breath and stared toward the large glass bowl that sat empty at the center of the table. There were a few moments of tension-filled silence, and Paige actually thought of getting up to leave. This guy was not a talker. But she’d barely found out a thing—certainly nothing interesting to tell Daryl and her sisters. So she simply sat and waited, hoping Elijah would choose to say more.
Something Wiccan This Way Comes Page 2
