Date with Death

by Elizabeth Lenhard

  And its shape was clearly that of a long, blustery tunnel now. Its opening, hovering above the floor and pulsating, was about six feet in diameter. The interior of the tunnel, which seemed to extend way beyond Josh's little kitchen, was lined with gushy, silvery stuff.

  “Is it animal or mineral, do you think?” Piper called.

  “It looks way too carnivorous to be vegetable,” Paige shrieked. She grabbed Piper's arm and clung to her in terror.

  And that's when Josh woke up. He shook his head blearily, then slowly lifted his eyes to look around. After gaping for a stunned moment at the esophaguslike thing that had taken over his little apartment, he blinked hard and stared at the sisters.

  “Paige?” he called. “What are you doing he—Phoebe?! Oh my God. Phoebe . . . what's . . . what's happening?”

  “You're telling me you don't know?” Phoebe yelled, planting her feet angrily on the floor. The wind seemed to be whipping around her harder. Her hair was fluttering over her eyes, half-blinding her. She had to scream to be heard.

  “You caused all this!” she continued. “You with your big, stupid claw-hand and oozy ear!”

  “What?” Josh yelled back. “What are you talking about? And how did you get here? And . . . and what is that thing?! Phoebe, untie me. Please!”

  Phoebe looked back at her sisters, who were fighting off the wind too busy to pay attention. Josh seemed so different now. Or rather he seemed the same. This was the Josh she'd known. The voice, the face—he was familiar again.

  Or maybe he was conning her.

  The decision was hers. Remembering Piper's rage in the alley, not to mention Cole's confusion, Phoebe shook her head. She was going to do the right thing.

  “No,” she announced to Josh. She held her hand in front of her eyes, which were stinging from the searing wind. “You're a demon. I won't be duped.”

  “Demon?” Josh screamed. “Phoebe, I know our relationship didn't end well, but this is extreme!”

  “I—I don't know . . .” Phoebe began. But she was interrupted by a harsh, scraping sound.

  “Aaaaarggh!” Josh screamed. His chair had just lurched three feet across the hardwood floor. Three feet closer to the tunnel. He was being drawn inside.

  “Phoebe, get away!” Piper yelled.

  Phoebe nodded vaguely, stepping back a bit. But as Josh's chair was jerked sideways again, her hand flew to her mouth. The chair tipped over and Josh crashed to the floor. He struggled madly to free himself of the leather belt, but Piper's knots were too tight. He was trapped.

  “This is cra—Phoebe! Paige? Somebody. Please!” Josh screamed. “Help me!”

  Without another word, Phoebe leapt over to Josh.

  “Phoebe, what're you doing?” Piper yelled.

  “It's him,” Phoebe called back to her. “The old Josh.”

  Josh's chair was being dragged continuously across the floor. He was struggling so hard, his head was hitting the floor with pathetic thunks.

  Phoebe lunged for him, wrapping her arms around his chest from behind. The back of the chair dug painfully into her ribs, but she hung on and braced herself.

  “Noooo!” she heard Paige shout. Then Paige's voice was cut off by the tornado of wind. Phoebe's feet scrabbled on the floor as she pulled back on Josh's body.

  But he continued to inch toward the mouth of the tunnel.

  And he was dragging Phoebe with him.

  Threading one arm through the slats of Josh's chair back, she twisted around to see Piper and Paige teetering on the edge of what looked like a whirlpool of wind. Phoebe realized now what she'd done. She'd jumped across a divide. Whatever was outside of the tornado—which was now bristling with stuff from Josh's apartment, from books to a lamp to a small ottoman—was safe. And whatever was trapped inside, was going down the tunnel.

  Namely Phoebe and Josh.

  Piper was waving her hands frantically, but clearly her magic was useless against this demonic vacuum cleaner. So she reached into the whirl, trying to grab Phoebe.

  Phoebe waved her away.

  “Stay back!” she screamed. “Don't get sucked in!”

  And then Piper disappeared from view. As did Paige and the rest of Josh's apartment.

  The mouth of the tunnel had gobbled them up.

  The next thing Phoebe knew, she and Josh were tumbling through the tunnel at an insane speed. Phoebe, screaming, felt the skin on her face tighten as they plunged into a silvery, mushy, seemingly endless abyss. As Phoebe clung desperately to Josh, who might have been yelling even louder than she was, her mind flashed on the last words she'd screamed to her sister.

  “Don't get sucked in!”

  she'd ordered her. See, that's the problem with me, she thought as panicked tears began streaming from her eyes. I never follow my own advice.

  Phoebe had no idea how long she and Josh had been in freefall. Actually it wasn't a total freefall. The walls of the tunnel had seemed to close in on them, encasing them in slippery, soft, sucking stuff. It literally felt like they were being squeezed and swallowed through an enormous esophagus.

  “Please let us not be the afternoon snack of some enormous, meat-eating creature,” Phoebe whispered. She gazed up at Josh. He was about fifteen feet above her. Finally he'd untangled himself from the chair. The force of the fall must have untied the knots. He too had stopped screaming and seemed to be in shock. His limbs hung limply, defeated.

  Since she had nothing else to do as her body hurtled through the abyss, Phoebe repeated her little prayer.

  Please let me not be plummeting into the acid-filled stomach of some space creature, she thought. Or into some underworld pool of fire. Or some other dimension where everybody has pointy ears or two heads. Let it be a slow road to China. Or some supernatural amusement park. Or even a portal to another—

  “Argh!” she screamed as she felt her butt hit something hard.

  Then she shrieked again as she saw Josh's butt coming right at her head. She rolled out of the way just before he made his own awkward crash landing.

  Phoebe laid on her stomach for a moment, breathing hard, her face pressed into the unyielding surface on which she'd landed. She could see Josh, flopped out next to her. And she could see that the hard surface seemed to be made of stone tiles.

  Stone, Phoebe thought. That's an earthly substance. That's a good start.

  Painfully, she lifted her head off the floor and lurched to her hands and knees. She coughed raspily as she brushed silvery gook from her clothes.

  I had to wear my favorite suede pants and a halter top to P3, she thought irritably. So not a practical travel outfit.

  She lurched to her feet and Josh did the same.

  “Where are we?” he said, looking around wildly. Phoebe followed his gaze. They'd landed in a small chamber, constructed of the same, sand-colored stone that lined the floor.

  Phoebe pointed to a wall opposite them. It was flanked by openings, hung with rough curtains, instead of doors. And on the wall was a mural. It was straight out of a natural history museum's ancient Egypt exhibition. The figures in the mural, who all seemed to be bowing to a king, wore long bound beards and striped headdresses.

  There was just one thing that jarred Phoebe.

  This was no ancient, dusty relic. This painting was fresh and very recent-looking.

  Phoebe looked around at the rough sandstone architecture, the homespun curtains, and the stone benches. And then she hung her head.

  “Not again,” she sighed.

  “Not again, what?” Josh said. “What, Phoebe? Where the hell are we? Have you been here before?”

  “Not here,” she said. “But I've been to Massachusetts in the 1600s and San Francisco in the 1920s. I've been possessed by an antique mobster's moll. I know the signs.”

  “The signs of what?” Josh demanded. “Phoebe, you're making no sense.”

  “The signs of time travel,” she said matter-of-factly. “But on the bright side, we haven't landed in some supernatural digestive system.
”

  Josh seemed less-than-comforted. He was gazing at Phoebe, looking utterly lost. Instinctively they both looked at the ceiling.

  The silvery maw that had just deposited them into this place had disappeared. All they saw now was a low, primitive stone ceiling.

  “This is not good,” Josh said in a trembly voice.

  “Finally, Josh,” Phoebe breathed, trying to stop her hands from shaking, “we agree on something.”

  chapter

  6

  “Noooo!” Paige was screaming. Through a blur of tears, she watched Phoebe and Josh slide toward the mouth of the bizarre, mouthlike tunnel that had, somehow, sprung from Josh's left ear.

  Paige saw Phoebe glance over her shoulder and lock eyes with Piper. She knew Phoebe and Piper both lived in constant fear of losing another sister. And traveling between them, in that one instantaneous look, Paige knew was a wealth of communication—Don't go. I'm sorry. Good-bye.

  Piper lurched forward, but Paige grabbed her shoulders and yanked her away from the swirl of air howling around the tunnel's mouth.

  “You'll only get sucked in!”

  she screamed. Phoebe, too, waved Piper away and called out to her. But her words were drowned by the howling of the wind.

  The chair to which Josh was bound scraped across the hardwood floor, leaving splintery gashes in the boards. But for some reason, Phoebe hung on.

  And when Josh, chair and all, was sucked into the pulsating, throatlike tunnel, Phoebe went with him.

  In a blink they disappeared from view. Immediately afterward the tunnel's pulsating opening began to crumple in on itself. The mouth got smaller and smaller, until it closed completely. Then with a last, loud whoosh of air, the tunnel itself contracted until it simply poofed away.

  Piper fell to her knees as Paige spun around in confusion. Josh's apartment was destroyed. Broken plates and shredded books littered the floor. Several windows had shattered. A lamp was crushed and lying on its side. The pillows had all been sucked from the living room couch.

  And the worst part was the silence. A cold, eerie, perfectly still silence. Paige almost wondered if sound would emerge when she opened her mouth.

  “What . . . just . . . happened?” she croaked.

  “The usual,” Piper said, stifling a sob. “Some horrible, supernatural force has stolen one of the Charmed Ones. And now we have to get her back.”

  Piper lurched to her feet and stalked through the kitchen toward the splintered back door. She batted at a chair that blocked her path and sent it skidding across the room. Then, with Paige at her heels, she stomped down the stairs and ran to their SUV. The women jumped into the car and Paige barely had time to close the passenger door before Piper skidded out into the street.

  The quickest route home was through one of the city's most hopping bar strips. But Piper had forgotten it was Saturday night. The street was clogged with college kids cruising slowly in their sports cars and Jeeps. Pretty soon Piper and Paige's car was stuck in standstill traffic.

  “Dammit,” Piper said, glaring at the car in front of them. It was bouncing to the beat of some bass-heavy hip hop. “We don't have time for this!”

  Paige bit her lip and felt another wave of panicky tears clog her throat. She gazed helplessly at the side of the street, listlessly scanning the throngs of scantily clad clubbers who were stalking down the sidewalk or waiting in line to get into some trendy new spot.

  Then she gave a start.

  “I know that guy,” she said, pointing to a slim young man with auburn hair. “That's Stuart. I went out with him yesterday. He's from Kiss.com.”

  “And? . . .” Piper said. She was still glaring at the cars in front of her.

  “And he's with a girl,” Paige said, following Stuart with her eyes. He was walking with his arm through that of a pretty young woman. They were cruising pretty quickly down the sidewalk.

  “Paige,” Piper said, “isn't it a little early to get jealous. You had one date with the guy.”

  “I'm so not jealous,” Paige said, squinting at Stuart and the woman. “I mean, Stuart was not exactly hunky. Unless you like that skinny, short, bespectacled Woody Allen type. What I am is . . . suspicious. Does it look to you like that girl wants to be dragged down the street that way?”

  “What?” Piper said. She leaned over Paige's lap to peer out the car window. They both stared for a moment as Stuart's hand tightened around the girl's upper arm. She gave him a sidelong look that was part irritation and part fear.

  And then, abruptly, Stuart ducked into an alley, roughly jerking the woman around the corner.

  “I think we should check this out,” Paige said, gnawing her lip.

  “We don't have time!” Piper protested. “We have to focus on Phoebe.”

  “We're stuck in traffic anyway,” Paige countered. “And think about it, Piper, there was more than one woman killed. Maybe there's more than one heartsucker! Maybe Josh wasn't the only one.”

  Piper stared dubiously at the mouth of the dark alley for a moment. Then without another word she jumped out of the SUV and flicked her

  84 C H A R M E D

  fingers. Instantly the entire street froze. Paige gaped at the scene—a bouncing raver was suspended in midair; a couple was locked in a kiss; a slice of pizza was suspended, just as it was about to flop over onto some guy's shirt front.

  Then Paige shook her head and scurried after Piper, who was sprinting for the alley. After all, their time was limited. You never knew when the magic was going to wear off, spontaneously unfreezing time and, perhaps, catching the witches in an awkwardly magic position.

  When Piper and Paige plowed into the alley, they both gasped.

  “You were right,” Piper breathed. The frozen scene was terrifying. The girl was cringing against the alley's dirty brick wall, just as Paige had been earlier that night. And just like Josh, Stuart was looming over his prey with his right hand reared back. He sported the same glinting silver nails and malevolent muscle as Josh too.

  “Okay, I've had just about enough of this,” Piper said. “Explosion time.”

  But Paige grabbed Piper's arm.

  “Wait,” she said. “Think about this. Didn't it seem like Josh changed right after that oozy, tunnel thing sprang out of his head.”

  “Changed?” Piper sputtered. “Well, if you mean redirecting his violence from you to Phoebe, sure.”

  “No,” Paige said, staring at Stuart's face, which was locked into a soulless grimace. He bore almost no resemblance to the compassionate social worker Paige had had lunch with just yesterday. “I mean, Josh was all about his heartsucking thing. And then, as soon as the portal popped out of him, he was . . . back to the old Josh. He seemed pretty clueless about demons. He suddenly recognized Phoebe. And Phoebe suddenly had a change of heart too. She knew Josh. She must have seen the change.”

  “Paige, what are you saying?” Piper was staring at her sister in weary confusion.

  “I'm saying . . . maybe Josh isn't a demon,” Paige said slowly. “But he was possessed by one.”

  “I've gotta admit, the signs point to it, but . . .” Piper said. She rubbed her fingertips together and glanced at Stuart. Paige could tell Piper was just itching for a vanquish.

  “So, here's the thing,” Paige said. “Maybe Stuart's in the same fix—possessed by an evil something-or-other. If that's the case, that makes him an innocent too. So we can't vanquish him.”

  “But we could use him,” Piper said, her eyes lighting up. “Maybe, if we exorcised the demon from Stuart, it could help lead us to Phoebe and Josh.”

  “Perfecto,” Paige said, snapping her fingers. Then she looked worriedly at her watch. “But we're clocking in at about sixty seconds. I think an unfreeze is imminent, don't you?”

  “Let's grab him,” Piper said.

  “And, uh, let's get help,” Paige said nervously. She looked skyward and called, “Leo!”

  Instantly a man-shaped swirl of white lights cascaded into the alley. Within
a few seconds the orb corporealized into Leo. His shirt was rumpled and untucked and he was holding a half-eaten burger in his hand. Paige glanced at Piper and saw her sister give her husband an exasperated look. She could practically read Piper's thoughts: Whatever happened to my knight in shining armor? Now he's just a humdrum husband!

  “Midnight snack,” Leo said to Piper sheepishly. He tossed the burger into a Dumpster as soon as he saw the witches' drawn faces. “Where's Phoebe?”

  “We'll explain later. Right now, we need your help,” Paige said, nodding at Stuart. “We've got to take this dude home without letting him pull our heartstrings, if you know what I mean.”

  “What?” Leo sputtered. “He's the demon, now? What about Josh?”

  “That would fall into the ‘explaining later’ category, sweetie,” Piper said through gritted teeth. “For the moment, could you just orb this guy home and tie him up? I know taking hostages isn't our style, but if it's going to get Phoebe back, I'll try anything.”

  I've got to get out of this mess, Phoebe thought. I'll try anything.

  She and Josh had been dumped by the silvery portal about ten minutes earlier. After shaking the shock out of their heads, they'd left the chamber where they'd landed and gone to explore.

  Their findings were as bad as Phoebe had feared.

  First they'd crept through a passageway that had taken them past a series of bed chambers. The set-ups—low onyx beds with uncomfortable, wooden headrests, chamber pots, and rough glass mosaics—were decidedly ancient. Then, turning a corner into another hallway, they'd found an open window hung with a rough, papyrus shade. Peeking through, Phoebe had seen a bustling city street filled with people in rough tunics and sandals. Goats and pigs were being herded down the street by black-haired boys carrying long sticks. The buildings across the street were made of sandstone and fronted by Roman columns.

  Since the building in which Phoebe and Josh had landed was situated on a hill, they could see much of the city. There was no sign of modern life.