So I’m either insane or cursed, Piper thought, her spirits plunging. What kind of choice was that? None, she realized as she slipped off the stool and trudged behind the bar to set up for the early evening shift.
Karen stopped playing the flute to blend her low, contralto voice with Daniel’s tenor. When they finished, the boys high-fived one another and began packing their instruments.
Piper made a mental note to make sure Karen spaced the slow ballads and sad songs farther apart when the band debuted tomorrow night. Downer moods were bad for business.
“Let’s stop by that Spoons No Soup place for an early dinner,” Brodie suggested. “The bartender at Jay’s Joint was raving about the food last night.”
Piper almost interrupted to explain that the stingy portions at the popular yuppie restaurant were overpriced and overhyped. She could whip up a better menu in her sleep, but she didn’t say a word. She felt as though the worries of the whole world had crash-landed on her shoulders and she was too weary to talk.
“It’s not even four o’clock yet,” Daniel said. “If I eat now, I’ll be hungry again by ten.”
Lancer shrugged and picked up his bass. “I can do dinner twice.”
“A salad sounds good to me.” Karen waved the guys out the door and stepped over to the bar. “We’ll see you tomorrow night, then, Piper. About eight thirty. I like to mingle for a few minutes to get a feel for the crowd before we start.”
“Sure.” Piper forced a smile as Karen placed her flute back in the case and snapped it closed. “Banjo’s has great salads. Steaks and burgers, too, and it won’t cost you a small fortune. Three blocks that way.” She pointed and stiffened self-consciously under the singer’s probing stare.
“Thanks,” Karen said finally. A subtle frown erased her bland expression for a brief moment. Then, apparently sensing that Piper didn’t want to prolong the small talk, she nodded and left.
The instant the door closed, leaving her alone, Piper began to sob. Grabbing a bunch of cocktail napkins, she sank to the floor and gave in to the tears.
Phoebe stared at the computer screen, clueless. For a fleeting instant, she actually wished that all the forces of the underworld had suddenly united against her and her sisters. Dealing with a magical something that was trying to make her crazy would be marginally better than being driven daft by her own faulty memory.
Except that the two are probably connected, she thought.
Phoebe scowled. Piper had called her cell phone just before class to say that Leo had come home from the great beyond above. She had sounded upset, which wasn’t hard to understand. The Elders were mystified by her and her sisters’ emotional, physical, and magical afflictions and unaware of any new imminent threat. They were checking the archives for similar incidents or references, but without more specific information, the effort might be futile. Leo had orbed out again to see if he could pick up anything on the demonic street.
Phoebe shared the Elders’ apprehension. Anything that affected the Charmed Ones’ powers was a matter of grave concern. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if emotional stress was the cause of her problem. At the university, she had read dozens of case studies about people who had developed severe physical ailments as a result of intense pressure at home or work. Couldn’t pressure affect her ability to function as a witch?
Her romantic history definitely fit the pattern.
Loving Cole had dealt her one serious emotional blow after another: from the normal uncertainties in the beginning—was the tall, dark, handsome D.A. as interested in her as she was in him?—to finding out he had a demon half called Belthazor who was trying to kill her and her sisters, then lying to her sisters about vanquishing him when she hadn’t, and finally having to deal with his emotional traumas because he was human and powerless.
Lots of people have gone mad with less reason, Phoebe thought matter-of-factly. Of course, her sisters were also experiencing bizarre effects, and they weren’t in love with Cole.
The realization that she was in danger of losing her powers without knowing why hit Phoebe hard. Suddenly she could really empathize with Cole’s difficulty adjusting to being human. Although he needed his fishing getaway to work things out, she wished he would come home. She needed the moral support.
“Setting up tables involves more initial steps and headaches,” Mr. Deekle said dryly, “but using them will save you time, and maybe even customers, in the end. Can anyone tell us why?”
Phoebe read over the numbered instructions for sizing and implanting tables in a Web page, but they might as well have been written in ancient Sanskrit. By the time she read step number eight, she had forgotten step number one. Creativity might be the key to a successful career in Web design, but having cool ideas was fast becoming a moot point. If she couldn’t remember basic technical information, she wasn’t even going to get through the course.
“Ms. Halliwell?” The professor’s beady eyes widened with expectation when she looked up.
“Uh—what was the question?” Phoebe asked lamely.
“Didn’t read the assigned pages, did we?” Deekle’s thin lips compressed into an accusing smile.
“Actually, I did,” Phoebe stammered, “but I don’t—”
The professor dismissed her excuse without letting her finish. He turned and pointed toward a young man with glasses in the next row. “Mr. Harrison?”
Kate was sitting behind Phoebe. She leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t let that jerk get you down, Phoebe.”
“What jerk?” Phoebe glanced at Professor Deekle, who was listening intently to a young man with glasses in the next row. “Him?”
“Who else?” Kate said softly. “A good instructor wouldn’t make his students so nervous, they can’t answer his questions.”
Phoebe just nodded. “Maybe my luck will hold and he won’t call on me.”
“You can hope,” Kate said.
The touch of cold metal against her neck caught Phoebe by surprise. “What was that?”
“What?” Kate asked, obviously perplexed.
“Huh?” Phoebe glanced back, feeling almost as confused as Kate looked. “Did you say something?”
“Nope.” Kate smiled. “Not a word.”
Chapter
5
Leo materialized in the kitchen of the Halliwell’s Victorian house with nothing to report. The evil grapevine was as uninformed as the Elders, with no buzz of a new demonic plot to defeat the Charmed Ones or to take over the world. Not this week anyway, Leo thought as he glanced around. Apparently the past eighteen hours in the Manor had not been nearly as uneventful as his snooping expedition.
Piper’s culinary domain was a disaster.
Various magical and menu ingredients were spilled and scattered across the table and counters. Cabinet doors stood open, dishes were broken, and puddles of water had formed under leaks in the ceiling. A pot of something foul bubbled on the stove, and an unidentifiable burned casserole had been dumped on the floor.
The mess was his first clue that something was terribly wrong. The second was realizing that the usual peace and quiet had been replaced by blaring TV noise.
A movement in the sink caught Leo’s eye. The smaller basin was full of fruits and vegetables that had been mashed into pulp and topped off with a package of saltine crackers. He froze when the gremlin popped out of the drain in the other sink and dove into the vegetable slush.
Leo slowly slipped a dish towel free of a cabinet handle. He hardly dared breathe for fear of alerting the creature, which was making contented cooing sounds as it dug through the pile of garbage. Wrapping the towel around his hand like a mitt, Leo braced to pounce. He just had to grab the slippery gremlin and hold on long enough to orb. Then he could set it free back in the underworld, where it belonged.
Just before Leo made his move, the gremlin burrowed into its disgusting lunch and disappeared. Having missed his chance to capture the intruder, Leo tossed the towel on the counter. Hearing a slurping noise, h
e looked into the sink as he turned to leave. A curl of grapefruit rind vanished into the mess.
“Piper!” Leo followed the boisterous sound of a game show announcer’s voice listing potential prizes. He found Piper sitting on the living room sofa, absently stirring gray goo in a large wooden bowl, and staring at the TV. Tears rolled down her face.
“Piper?” Leo kneeled in front of her. Last night she had tried to hide her distress when he had told her that no big-time evil magic was going down anywhere that the Elders were aware of. He hadn’t realized then that she had done a complete emotional one-eighty from happy to depressed. “What’s wrong?”
Piper sniffled and wiped her damp cheek with the back of her hand. “Millie lost.”
“Millie?” Leo frowned, uncomprehending, until Piper waved her spoon at the TV. He jerked back to avoid splatters of gray goop that shook loose. “On the show?”
Piper nodded, more tears pouring from her dark eyes. “Millie wanted the fishing boat for her grandson, so she just kept playing instead of settling for the big-screen TV and entertainment center. But then she missed the big question, so now she doesn’t get anything except a year’s supply of some stupid laundry detergent that’s not nearly as good as the sponsor says it is.”
“A real tragedy.” Leo wasn’t sure what to say. He tried changing the subject, hoping the diversion would have a calming effect. “What are you making?”
“A vitamin potion for Gilbert.” Piper inhaled, shuddering as she held back another teary outburst.
“Gilbert?” Leo blinked. “That wouldn’t happen to be the gremlin, would it?”
Piper nodded again.
“And you’re feeding it?” Leo asked aghast.
“Don’t you dare yell at me, Leo Wyatt!” Piper’s eyes blazed, but her mouth quivered. “I had to do something to keep him busy until you figure out how to catch him. Have you seen the laundry room?”
Leo shook his head. “Is it worse than the kitchen?”
Piper leaned closer, lowering her voice. “He pulverized that big metal hose that goes to the dryer vent.”
“What was a plumbing gremlin doing in the dryer?” Leo asked.
“Throwing a temper tantrum, obviously,” Piper snapped.
“Obviously.” It was also obvious to Leo that Piper’s depressed state of mind had worsened since last night. They had much bigger problems than an annoyed gremlin. “Is Phoebe here?”
Piper pointed the spoon up. “Attic. Since we don’t really think plain old-fashioned nervous breakdowns are why I’m a basket case and her mind has turned into a sieve, she’s checking The Book of Shadows for a magical explanation.”
“Don’t move,” Leo gently ordered. “I’ll be right back.”
Piper picked up the remote and changed channels as he dissolved into light for a quick trip upstairs.
• • •
“Hey, Leo. What’s up?” Phoebe sat cross-legged on the attic floor sorting the contents of an old trunk.
“Piper said you were checking the book.” Leo glanced toward the pedestal. The Book of Shadows was closed.
“Checking for what?” Phoebe folded an embroidered dresser scarf and placed it on a pile of decorative linens.
“Why you can’t remember what you’re doing from one minute to the next.” Leo paused as the complications inherent in Phoebe’s condition sank in. “So checking the book is a pointless exercise for you, isn’t it?”
“That makes perfect sense.” Phoebe pulled a pink, monogrammed baby sweater out of the trunk. “Should I be worried?”
“Why bother when you won’t recall what you’re worried about?” Leo smiled, but he was worried enough for both of them. “I need your help right now though.”
“Okay.” Phoebe rose and dusted off her jeans. The loosely crocheted sweater she wore over a T-shirt captured her gaze. She held up her arm to study the long, bell-shaped sleeves. “Where did this come from? It’s gorgeous.”
“From that trunk probably.” Leo grabbed her hand and started for the door. “Come on. I need your help.”
“What’s the problem?” Phoebe asked.
“I’ll explain after we get downstairs so I only have to go over it once.” Leo motioned Phoebe through the door. By the time they reached the living room, she had no recollection of the conversation they had just had in the attic.
“What are you watching?” Phoebe asked Piper.
“Some soap opera called Where All Roads End.” Piper dabbed her moist eyes with the hem of her shirt. “How can people watch this stuff every day? Nothing ever goes right for anybody.”
“Sounds vaguely familiar,” Phoebe muttered.
Leo took the bowl of gremlin vitamins away from Piper. She had stirred it so long, the mixture had turned into lumpy gray soup. “Where’s your laptop, Phoebe?”
“I don’t know.” Phoebe glanced around. “I don’t see it anywhere.”
Piper stood up and poked Leo in the chest. “You give Gilbert his Piper pick-me-up. I’ll find the laptop.”
“Piper—” Leo paused to curb his exasperation. Usually he had the proverbial patience of a saint, but then again, usually the Charmed Ones weren’t acting like insipid airheads. “Have either of you tried using your powers today?”
“Don’t know,” Phoebe said.
Piper shook her head. “We decided not to, remember?”
“We did?” Phoebe looked confused. “When?”
“When doesn’t matter, Phoebe,” Leo said. “Try levitating now.”
“Sure.” Phoebe breathed in deeply. When her feet were still on the floor a moment later, she gritted her teeth and squinted her eyes closed. The increased concentration helped her rise a few inches off the floor. She hovered for several seconds before gravity overpowered her magic and pulled her back down.
“That cannot possibly be good.” Piper bit her lip.
“I’m home.” Paige walked in, dropped her bag on the floor, and flopped down on the sofa Piper had just vacated.
“Aren’t you early?” Piper looked at her watch and started to sob. “It’s only four o’clock, Paige. Mr. Cowan didn’t fire you, did he? What’s that going to do to our budget?”
“Nothing.” Paige yawned. “He sent me home sick.”
“Do you have a fever?” Phoebe placed her hand on Paige’s forehead.
Paige brushed it away. “No, I’m having such a hard time staying awake, Mr. Cowan is sure I’ve got the flu. He wanted me out of the office before I infected everyone else.”
“That’s actually the first stroke of good luck we’ve had today,” Leo said. At least when Paige was awake, she had control of her thoughts and impulses.
“Bad day all around?” Paige propped an eye open with her fingers.
“Probably.” Sighing, Phoebe perched on the arm of the couch. “I can barely get my feet off the ground.”
“Bummer.” Paige dropped her head on a throw pillow, and her eyelids fluttered closed. “But I thought we weren’t going to use our powers until we know why they aren’t working right.”
“Really?” Phoebe covered her mouth. “Oops.”
“I’ve got a theory about the power loss,” Leo said. He didn’t want to say anything more until he had supporting evidence. “Try freezing something, Piper.”
“Okay.” Sniffling, Piper snapped her hands toward the TV. The images on the screen didn’t pause but began to move in slow motion. “Uh-oh.”
“Is freezing supposed to work like that?” Phoebe asked.
Piper frowned. “No, but maybe my explode mode is okay.”
Before Leo could question the wisdom of a blowup test using faulty powers, Piper zapped a potted plant in the window. It wasn’t obliterated. The leaves just wilted and the flower petals fell off.
“That’s way worse than yesterday, isn’t it?” Paige turned on to her side facing the room.
“Hard to say.” Piper shrugged. “I didn’t try to blow up anything yesterday.”
“Your turn, Paige,” Leo said.
<
br /> A brittle tension gripped the room as Paige sat up and flexed her fingers. She hesitated and then went for it with a bold thrust of her hand. “Remote!”
Leo frowned when nothing happened immediately. A moment later, the remote control slowly dissolved into orb particles, which drifted into Paige’s hand and slowly re-formed.
“Well, that didn’t go exactly as I expected,” Paige said.
“Can I see that?” Leo took the remote from Paige’s hand. At first glance the device seemed fine. On closer inspection, he noticed that the lettering formed nonsense words and the buttons were out of line.
“Oh, boy.” Paige winced when Leo pointed out the flaws in the remote. “That’s definitely worse than yesterday.”
“Which is what I wanted to find out.” Leo kept his tone matter-of-fact when the three sisters looked to him for clarification. “Something happened to start the power drain in the first place, and whatever it was, it happened to each of you again since yesterday.”
Although Phoebe looked more perplexed than Piper and Paige, they were all baffled.
“But nothing happened,” Paige insisted.
“Yes, it did,” Leo said firmly. “Nothing else can account for the diminished powers and the excessive physical and emotional side effects you’re all experiencing.”
“I’m at a loss.” Phoebe rubbed her temples.
“Me too,” Piper sobbed.
Paige wasn’t convinced either. “But that implies that we’ve all been exposed to the same thing, Leo. That’s a little hard to believe, since the only time we’ve been together is here.”
“Gilbert!” Piper gasped.
“Who’s Gilbert?” Paige asked.
“Piper named the gremlin,” Leo explained, “but gremlins don’t have powers that can directly affect anyone, good or evil. They just have magical properties that make it possible for them to disrupt inanimate things, like World War Two airplanes and plumbing.”
“You named the gremlin?” Paige glared at Piper.
“Forget Gilbert for now,” Leo said. “He’s not responsible for your problems. Something is though, and we’ve got to figure out what before you don’t have any powers left.”
Dark Vengeance Page 6
