Post by StoryGirl83 on Jun 11, 2017 16:58:56 GMT -5
Chapter Thirty-Three - Shadows
10:57 AM
Once he was in the manor it was quiet. Too quiet. With everything going on it shouldn’t have been a surprise and yet it was. The manor was the center of their magic and he could only hope that the quiet meant they were upstairs, because he didn’t want to have to search all over town for them. If he had to do that, he didn’t know how long it would take him.
Not that he knew what he’d do when he found them, not exactly, but he’d deal with that when he got there. Having gotten his hands on blueprints registered with the city decades prior, he knew the layout of the manor well enough, but he’d never been inside before. It was about time he changed that, but that wasn’t the point of this, just an added bonus.
“Ow!”
Startled, the watcher took a few steps back and got into the shadows.
A moment later one of the Mitchell twins reached the bottom of the stairs, a grimace on her face. “Stupid staircase.” She marched passed him, scowling. “Stupid curse. Stupid Jani.”
Jani, if he remembered right, was a nickname for the younger twin. He couldn’t rightly remember this twin’s name, but it would come to him later. It was somehow connected to some dead relative of theirs.
He watched her head into the other room where she flipped on the TV, mumbling something under her breath. He took a step out of the shadows toward her and stopped. If she was complaining like that, she might not be the best person to approach and considering what she was complaining about, there were probably more people upstairs or at the very least his twin and he was pretty sure this twin was the one with a temper.
Convinced she was occupied, he slid around the stairs and quietly ascending them. Hopeful her twin was upstairs and he could get her to listen to Charles’ story. Based off the mood of this twin, she didn’t seem like the person he wanted to start with, so hopeful her twin was.
The most likely place to find others was in the attic and since that was where they kept the Book of Shadows, maybe he could find a way to slip it into the Book. Of course getting into the attic without being seen while someone was in there, let alone if there were more than one person in there would be tricky. Too bad invisibility wasn’t an option.
All the doors on the second story were closed. He didn’t think anyone was on this floor, but he stopped quietly and listened at the doors as he made his way toward the stairs to the attic.
The stairs weren’t hard part, although he had a start as one stair squeaked under his feet. He stopped and leaned against the wall. It wouldn’t do for whomever was up there to hear him unless he was sure that revealing himself was the best strategy and he definitely wasn’t sure of that.
At the top of the stairs, he turned the knob, grimacing at every squeak, and slowly pushed it open enough to listen and get the lay of the room.
Not that he knew what he’d do when he found them, not exactly, but he’d deal with that when he got there. Having gotten his hands on blueprints registered with the city decades prior, he knew the layout of the manor well enough, but he’d never been inside before. It was about time he changed that, but that wasn’t the point of this, just an added bonus.
“Ow!”
Startled, the watcher took a few steps back and got into the shadows.
A moment later one of the Mitchell twins reached the bottom of the stairs, a grimace on her face. “Stupid staircase.” She marched passed him, scowling. “Stupid curse. Stupid Jani.”
Jani, if he remembered right, was a nickname for the younger twin. He couldn’t rightly remember this twin’s name, but it would come to him later. It was somehow connected to some dead relative of theirs.
He watched her head into the other room where she flipped on the TV, mumbling something under her breath. He took a step out of the shadows toward her and stopped. If she was complaining like that, she might not be the best person to approach and considering what she was complaining about, there were probably more people upstairs or at the very least his twin and he was pretty sure this twin was the one with a temper.
Convinced she was occupied, he slid around the stairs and quietly ascending them. Hopeful her twin was upstairs and he could get her to listen to Charles’ story. Based off the mood of this twin, she didn’t seem like the person he wanted to start with, so hopeful her twin was.
The most likely place to find others was in the attic and since that was where they kept the Book of Shadows, maybe he could find a way to slip it into the Book. Of course getting into the attic without being seen while someone was in there, let alone if there were more than one person in there would be tricky. Too bad invisibility wasn’t an option.
All the doors on the second story were closed. He didn’t think anyone was on this floor, but he stopped quietly and listened at the doors as he made his way toward the stairs to the attic.
The stairs weren’t hard part, although he had a start as one stair squeaked under his feet. He stopped and leaned against the wall. It wouldn’t do for whomever was up there to hear him unless he was sure that revealing himself was the best strategy and he definitely wasn’t sure of that.
At the top of the stairs, he turned the knob, grimacing at every squeak, and slowly pushed it open enough to listen and get the lay of the room.
11:04 AM (7:04 PM in Cambridge)
The room was dark. She'd had enough presence of mind to get into an empty room rather than appearing in the middle of the busy hallway. She pulled open the door just enough to see into the hall. Shivering, she surveyed the ice everywhere.
The woman she'd heard talking to Heart must have been responsible for this. She looked down at her own hands for a second and then at the ice in the hall. This was much more massive than anything she could produce. The person responsible for this knew their powers and knew them well. If she had no chance against that person, what kind of chance did Heart have?
"Have you been in there this whole time?" a woman's voice asked her drawing her attention to a blonde woman in candy stripper outfit. "Are you okay?"
"What happened?" Ladybug asked, stepping out into the hall and taking in the ice more fully. "How did all this ice get here?"
"No one's really sure," the woman told her. "There was a wall of it, over there." She pointed over at where there was a large hole in what, sure enough, appeared to have been a thick wall of ice. "It took a while for anyone to get through and by that point there was nothing anyone could do for the young man who'd been trapped in here."
Ladybug’s heart sank. She was too late. “What happened?” There was no sign of Heart, nor was there any sign that he had been there.
“He froze to death, encased in ice.”
Looking at the second wall, Ladybug frowned. There was something odd about the woman’s voice. Deliberately, she kept her face turned away from her, looking along the second wall trying to see what she could find, any sign that Heart had been here.
“Breaking through the wall just took too much time.”
Hearts’s call had been less than fifteen minutes ago. This woman talked as if it had been much longer.
“We should really get you out of here,” the woman suggested. “I’m sure investigators will want to talk to you.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” she commented absently as something at the wall of ice caught her attention. Ignoring protests from the other woman, she walked over to the wall and squatted down. There encased in a thick wall of ice, she saw a phone, one that looked a lot like the phone Heart had when they were together.
“You really should get away from that.”
Ladybug rose to her feet and turned around. “Who are you?”
A smirk flicked across the woman’s face. “I think you know who I am. You’re the one he called, aren’t you?”
“You killed Heart.”
“He would have died anyway. There’s no way to stop this.”
“There’s always a way.”
“Well, you can’t find it little witch. You’re the Warren in his life, but you weren’t enough to save him and you won’t be enough to save anyone else either.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Ladybug glared at her trying to come up with a way to handle this. She had no defense against the ice power this woman controlled, so something else was going to have to work.
“Have you no heart? How can you just kill someone and say it doesn’t matter?”
“He was going to die anyway,” the woman repeated. “You Warrens are so ridiculous. You are so full of yourself, thinking you have the solution to everything. Some people have to die. That’s just the way of it. It’s not something you can stop.”
“You killed Heart, my Heart,” Ladybug accused, her voice rising with every word. “You can’t just get away with that.”
Smirking, the woman snorted. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You think not?” A curse, she could do a curse. There was a lot of power in the Warren line and her mom was a Charmed One. Of course her dad was a cupid which did some interesting things to her powers. She’d never been the best with spells, not having inherited her mom’s talent for them. What she did have was anything that could be considered a cupid’s domain didn’t seem to fail.
What kind of curse could a witch cast that connected to a cupid’s powers?
“Are you threatening me?”
“Maybe you should see how it feels,” Ladybug shot back, “losing someone you love.”
“Been there, done that,” the woman informed her before adding, “twice.”
“Then it wasn’t love.”
“It was love.”
“Evil can’t love.”
“It’s not so black and white as that.” She made a face. “Time changes a lot of things.”
Realization hit. “You’re old.” Most likely she was one of the warlocks who cast the original spell and Ladybug had missed out on a lot, but she’d heard enough to know that they hadn’t always been warlocks.
“How rude.”
“You used to be a witch,” she mumbled, more to herself than to to the warlock.
“When I was two,” the warlock spat out. “It’s certainly not something that I remember.”
“But you remember love.”
“I remember love lost,” the warlock corrected. She held her hand up in front of her face and wiggled her fingers. “Now, I am bored of this.”
“Love twice lost, once more be found.”
The warlock looked at her curiously. “What are you about?”
Ladybug smiled and pressed on. “Quite dear the cost. With hate it’s bound.”
“Hate!” the warlock squawked. “Now wait a minute.” Without taking a moment to aim, she flung her hand in Ladybug’s direction and ice shot out of it.
Ladybug disappeared in pink and white hearts, and reappeared behind the warlock. “Love fills your heart, but his is hard.” She frowned. If this worked, she couldn’t really condemn a man to always going against his heart. It just wasn’t in her. “Unless his choice undoes what’s marred.”
“That’s not right,” the warlock protested. “You can’t do that to him.”
That was not exactly the response she expected from the warlock.
“If that spell of yours does anything to hurt him, I will end you.”
Ladybug frowned. “But you aren’t now?”
“I know how curses work,” the warlock snapped. “They’re easier to get rid of if the person who cast them is the one who undoes them.”
“I won’t.”
The warlock glared at her. “You will. When you see how it hurts him, you will.”
Ladybug looked down her nose at the warlock, so close now that she was assured she wouldn’t be attacked that she could see concealer on the warlock’s nose. “I wouldn’t count on it.” With that she disappeared in pink and white hearts.
The woman she'd heard talking to Heart must have been responsible for this. She looked down at her own hands for a second and then at the ice in the hall. This was much more massive than anything she could produce. The person responsible for this knew their powers and knew them well. If she had no chance against that person, what kind of chance did Heart have?
"Have you been in there this whole time?" a woman's voice asked her drawing her attention to a blonde woman in candy stripper outfit. "Are you okay?"
"What happened?" Ladybug asked, stepping out into the hall and taking in the ice more fully. "How did all this ice get here?"
"No one's really sure," the woman told her. "There was a wall of it, over there." She pointed over at where there was a large hole in what, sure enough, appeared to have been a thick wall of ice. "It took a while for anyone to get through and by that point there was nothing anyone could do for the young man who'd been trapped in here."
Ladybug’s heart sank. She was too late. “What happened?” There was no sign of Heart, nor was there any sign that he had been there.
“He froze to death, encased in ice.”
Looking at the second wall, Ladybug frowned. There was something odd about the woman’s voice. Deliberately, she kept her face turned away from her, looking along the second wall trying to see what she could find, any sign that Heart had been here.
“Breaking through the wall just took too much time.”
Hearts’s call had been less than fifteen minutes ago. This woman talked as if it had been much longer.
“We should really get you out of here,” the woman suggested. “I’m sure investigators will want to talk to you.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” she commented absently as something at the wall of ice caught her attention. Ignoring protests from the other woman, she walked over to the wall and squatted down. There encased in a thick wall of ice, she saw a phone, one that looked a lot like the phone Heart had when they were together.
“You really should get away from that.”
Ladybug rose to her feet and turned around. “Who are you?”
A smirk flicked across the woman’s face. “I think you know who I am. You’re the one he called, aren’t you?”
“You killed Heart.”
“He would have died anyway. There’s no way to stop this.”
“There’s always a way.”
“Well, you can’t find it little witch. You’re the Warren in his life, but you weren’t enough to save him and you won’t be enough to save anyone else either.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Ladybug glared at her trying to come up with a way to handle this. She had no defense against the ice power this woman controlled, so something else was going to have to work.
“Have you no heart? How can you just kill someone and say it doesn’t matter?”
“He was going to die anyway,” the woman repeated. “You Warrens are so ridiculous. You are so full of yourself, thinking you have the solution to everything. Some people have to die. That’s just the way of it. It’s not something you can stop.”
“You killed Heart, my Heart,” Ladybug accused, her voice rising with every word. “You can’t just get away with that.”
Smirking, the woman snorted. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You think not?” A curse, she could do a curse. There was a lot of power in the Warren line and her mom was a Charmed One. Of course her dad was a cupid which did some interesting things to her powers. She’d never been the best with spells, not having inherited her mom’s talent for them. What she did have was anything that could be considered a cupid’s domain didn’t seem to fail.
What kind of curse could a witch cast that connected to a cupid’s powers?
“Are you threatening me?”
“Maybe you should see how it feels,” Ladybug shot back, “losing someone you love.”
“Been there, done that,” the woman informed her before adding, “twice.”
“Then it wasn’t love.”
“It was love.”
“Evil can’t love.”
“It’s not so black and white as that.” She made a face. “Time changes a lot of things.”
Realization hit. “You’re old.” Most likely she was one of the warlocks who cast the original spell and Ladybug had missed out on a lot, but she’d heard enough to know that they hadn’t always been warlocks.
“How rude.”
“You used to be a witch,” she mumbled, more to herself than to to the warlock.
“When I was two,” the warlock spat out. “It’s certainly not something that I remember.”
“But you remember love.”
“I remember love lost,” the warlock corrected. She held her hand up in front of her face and wiggled her fingers. “Now, I am bored of this.”
“Love twice lost, once more be found.”
The warlock looked at her curiously. “What are you about?”
Ladybug smiled and pressed on. “Quite dear the cost. With hate it’s bound.”
“Hate!” the warlock squawked. “Now wait a minute.” Without taking a moment to aim, she flung her hand in Ladybug’s direction and ice shot out of it.
Ladybug disappeared in pink and white hearts, and reappeared behind the warlock. “Love fills your heart, but his is hard.” She frowned. If this worked, she couldn’t really condemn a man to always going against his heart. It just wasn’t in her. “Unless his choice undoes what’s marred.”
“That’s not right,” the warlock protested. “You can’t do that to him.”
That was not exactly the response she expected from the warlock.
“If that spell of yours does anything to hurt him, I will end you.”
Ladybug frowned. “But you aren’t now?”
“I know how curses work,” the warlock snapped. “They’re easier to get rid of if the person who cast them is the one who undoes them.”
“I won’t.”
The warlock glared at her. “You will. When you see how it hurts him, you will.”
Ladybug looked down her nose at the warlock, so close now that she was assured she wouldn’t be attacked that she could see concealer on the warlock’s nose. “I wouldn’t count on it.” With that she disappeared in pink and white hearts.
11:06 AM
The stairs to the attic proved to be more of a bother than the ones to the second floor. Surely it was just his imagination that made every other stair seem like it creeked under his feet. But no, there was yet another creek.
At the top of the stairs he could see the open door of the attic. That was both a blessing and a curse. When he reached the top of the stairs, they would see him. And there was definitely a they. He couldn’t understand what was being said, but he definitely could identify at least two distinct voices. He stopped as the top of his head was almost definitely visible if one chose to look in the direction of the open door and sighed. This is going to be really annoying.
With that thought in mind, he got down on his hands and knees and crawled the rest of the way up the stairs. It really wouldn’t do for them to see him and wonder what he was about. And after, after he couldn’t have them looking at the results of this information and wonder about him.
“You’d probably best put that down.”
The words drifted down the stairs into his hearing, a feminine whisper that probably belonged to the twin of the girl downstairs, Jani.
“You have a better idea?”
Masculine and not one of the sons of Piper Halliwell and Leo Wyatt. He’d know those voices. Didn’t Paige Matthews have a son as well as the twin girls? It was probably him.
“Come on, Jani. What would you have me do? We have nothing. I mean sure we have things, but nothing we can use, unless you want to count Dad’s boss and quite frankly, I think he’s provided as much use to us as he can. And where do we go when we have nothing? We go to the Book of Shadows.”
“You said you’ve been through the entire book more than once, Hank. You said there is nothing there.”
“I said things were missing and I didn’t say nothing. I mean I found information from that time frame, about Patrick Warren. Besides I’m doing something different this time.”
“What could you possibly be doing different that would be of use?”
“I’m looking for what’s missing.”
The watcher blinked at that. It might prove to be of no use, but it was kind of an interesting approach to it. He could see them now. The boy, Hank, was standing at the pedestal, flipping through what he could only assume was the Book of Shadows, definitely not looking in the direction of the stairs, but he’d be able to see the stairs out of the corner of his eyes and if the watcher made a move, Hank would definitely see it. And if he didn’t Jani was standing by the pedestal looking directly at the pedestal. It was kind of amazing that she hadn’t noticed him already.
Since they were looking his direction, they didn’t see the pink and white hearts forming behind Jani. And since they didn’t see them, it gave him just enough time to realize if he timed it right, he could use this as a distraction.
As soon as Jani and Hank turned their attention toward their cousin, the watcher made his move, scrambling as quietly as he could up the rest of the stairs and behind some chests near the door. Breathing a sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and tried to come up with the next step toward getting Charles’s story to them.
“Ladybug, what happened?” Jani called as she took several rushed steps toward Phoebe Halliwell’s oldest daughter, Prudence. He’d heard the name Ladybug before, but who wanted to go by such a name as a teenager? “Who was that call from?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
The watcher jerked his attention to Prudence. It was hard to tell from this distance and harder still at this angle, but she did look upset about something. Her tone certainly lead one to believe something bad had happened.
“What do we know about the warlocks who are behind this?” Prudence asked, squaring her shoulders. “It’s time to end this.”
“We know their names,” Hank told her. “Dad’s boss told us everything he could, but he’s not in contact with his father’s family and he never has been except for when they cast the curse on him that made talking about this improbable.”
Henry Mitchell’s boss sounded rather interesting. When this was over, he might need to pay the man a visit.
“We all want that,” Jani assured her. “Uncle Andy doesn’t have much time left and unless we figure something out better than what they have done in years past, Uncle Leo won’t be far behind him. Dad’s okay for now and if we could ever figure out where your parents are, your dad shouldn’t be affected by this, but people keep dying. Some of them we know. Most of them we don’t, but . . .” She shrugged. “If not us who?”
This wasn’t at all useful and it certainly didn’t help him figure out how to get the paper with Charles’s story to them. With Prudence in the mix, he thought it less likely that they would listen to him, not with her in the mood she was in. Of course she did seem rather desperate for information, so maybe that was good enough. Getting them to trust anything the watcher provided would be tricky and so the watcher continued the debate in his head.
Before he could decide what to do, blue and white hearts filled the room near Prudence. Wyatt’s face was downcast as he walked over to the couch where the watcher realized Wyatt’s brother slept and sat on the arm. “Someone drug Chris, too?” he asked almost too casually.
Three sets of eyes looked at him surprised. Even the watcher looked on him with interest from his hiding place. Someone had drugged the all powerful twice-blessed? That could prove to be useful information.
“Someone drugged you?” Jani asked, finding her tongue.
“Dr. Nicolae thought I needed rest.”
The watcher barely managed to suppress a loud scoff. Sounded like Wyatt had been up all night and then some on this, too. The young man rose a notch or two in the watcher’s mind. Sometimes you had to put off things like sleep in order to protect those you had been entrusted with.
“You probably did,” Prudence pointed out as she paced the room. “Most of us can use some sleep, but you’ve been up for how many days in a row?” Not waiting for an answer she pulled some papers out of her pockets and looked over them.
“Too many,” Wyatt admitted. “And when this is all over I’ll get more, but right now, I need this to be over.”
It seemed to be the echoing sentiment in the room.
“Are you all right, Wyatt?” Jani asked coming up next to him. “You look worse then you did before you got some sleep.” She stopped in front of him and reached out to touch his face. “Your eyes are bloodshot. Have you been crying?”
He shook his head. “No time for tears, Jani. I have at most two hours to find a way to save a dead co-worker’s brother. Are we getting anywhere?”
There was the question that the watcher most wanted answered, the question that seemed most likely to be no. If they were getting somewhere, the story he had to tell wouldn’t be needed, the solution he’d been told needn’t be used. Two less deaths to his conscious would be nice.
The door slammed open and Alanna finally returned to the attic, walking right passed the watcher with a scowl on her face. “People can be such jerks. You know that?”
All eyes in the room turned to look at her.
“What are you talking about, Lanna?” Jani asked.
“Is my sister okay?” Prudence asked, taking a couple of steps toward her.
Sister? Which sister? Another Halliwell cousin was here? Could that be what the watcher need to figure this out?”
“Oh, nothing,” Alanna sighed. “Sorry, I just went downstairs to check the news. I did check on Hope on the way back up and she’s fine, sound asleep. It’s just the TV guy. The one from earlier’s gotten sick, so the new one is being a jerk about it. Apparently they have a not so friendly rivalry.” She passed her sister and headed across the room to where her brother was looking at bits and pieces. “Anything useful in that mess?”
He shrugged. “I’m still going through it.”
Prudence walked over to them and handed Hank the papers she had retrieved from her pocket. “I’m not sure how much use this is, but it’s what I have right now.”
“And what exactly do we know?” Wyatt demanded. “Two hours isn’t a lot of time and we’ve gotten nowhere over the last several days.”
“We know who’s behind this,” Jani offered. “We even know that our family’s blood was the first shed. That could be important.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Melinda Warren’s grandmother was killed as a sacrifice by the people who started this,” Alanna told him. She sighed and looked down at the papers. “I think the answer might be in those papers, but there is is much information in here and much of it truly is useless. It’s hard to know where to start.”
“Speaking of information, any word from my sister, yet?” Prudence asked. “I would have thought she would have been involved in this fact finding mission.”
“I already told you Hope was downstairs asleep,” Alanna offered helpfully, “so I assume you mean silly.”
The watcher frowned. What did that even mean?”
“Still no news from her or Mom,” Jani informed her. Glancing at Hank, she added, “Well, other than what Hank told us earlier. You sure they don’t need our help?”
Hank shook his head, reluctantly looking up from the papers. “No, they are fine now. They only called me because they had a bit of trouble and then they sent me back to Lanna so that we could talk to Dad’s boss.” He ducked his head back down and continued looking through the papers.
Based on the look on his face when he was speaking, the watcher suspected “a bit” was more than a bit of an understatement.
“Right,” Prudence mumbled. “Silly is out meeting Melinda Warren’s father and grandparents. I forgot.”
The watcher almost slapped his forehead as realization hit. It was Cilly, not silly, short for Pricilla, Prudence and Hope’s middle sister. Her nickname was almost as odd as Prudence’s.
His eyes narrowed as the rest of what Prudence had said registered. Samuel Warren had been located? There was precious little to be found about the man, but considering the rather interesting resources the watcher had to comb through, the idea that someone knew where to find Samuel Warren was definitely news. Definitely something to look in later.
“Are you okay, Ladybug?” Jani asked, putting a hand on Prudence’s shoulder. “We told you all this earlier.”
Prudence shook her head. “I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Then, we won’t. You were going to call Cilly earlier. I know you didn’t get to it, but maybe you can try now. We could use whatever that have learned.”
Prudence nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“I might have something,” Hank called out as Prudence was pulling out her phone.
Alanna was closed to him, so she looked down at the papers in his hand and sighed. “No, that won’t work.”
“Why not? It makes sense. We can counter what they did. We have the information we need.”
Alanna shook her head hard. “The biggest problem I see is that we don’t have enough witches.”
“Enough?” Wyatt stared down at her, stunned. “How could we possibly not have enough witches? Our family is full of witches and beyond that, we have plenty of contacts with other witches, witches who undoubtedly want this stopped as much as we do.”
“Look, I may not be the best student when mom was trying to teach us, but think about it,” Alanna snapped. “There’s a bond in family and we aren’t the only family out there. A family did this, not some random collection of witches, a family, and they made sure that they had enough witches to form a coven. We don’t have that, not in our family alone.”
Lovely. They needed a coven. And they had one, except . . . He could see the pained look on Hank’s face. He’d heard enough to know something was wrong with Hank’s powers and he knew full well that young Hope hadn’t even come into hers. Two of the cousins who had come from the other timeline didn’t have any powers back. And of course Phoebe Halliwell was still missing. That left them with ten powered witches, not nearly enough for this.
And he was still stuck with no way to give them his information and only a vague idea of how he might deliver it. And that was the kicker wasn’t it? Even if it was possible to just stand up and hand them the information, which is surely was, how could they be convinced to trust it. It was nearly a certainty they wouldn’t if the watcher was revealed, not soon enough anyway. There was a chance they might be desperate enough, but what he asked no thing to be taken lightly. They had to be sure.
The watcher eyed Chris asleep on the couch. The rumor in the underworld was that Chris could turn himself invisible. Wouldn’t that be handy for this?
None of the girls possessed powers that would be of use to him. Teleportation he had and ice or fire would just make a mess, not help things.
There was Wyatt’s rather unusual talent for teleporting objects without touching them. The watcher was unsure if Wyatt’s brother shared that talent, but it didn’t really matter since the watcher didn’t.
His favorite was an ability the youngest boy in the room, Hank Mitchell, had and that was what caused a grin to spread across the watcher’s face as he remembered that this ability at least was something the watcher could use.
“Hey! Watch it!”
Not sure what just happened, the watcher took just enough time to make sure that no one was looking toward the stairs and moved toward the still open door as fast and quiet as he could.
Time to talk to a different member of the Halliwell family, one who would listen to him.
At the top of the stairs he could see the open door of the attic. That was both a blessing and a curse. When he reached the top of the stairs, they would see him. And there was definitely a they. He couldn’t understand what was being said, but he definitely could identify at least two distinct voices. He stopped as the top of his head was almost definitely visible if one chose to look in the direction of the open door and sighed. This is going to be really annoying.
With that thought in mind, he got down on his hands and knees and crawled the rest of the way up the stairs. It really wouldn’t do for them to see him and wonder what he was about. And after, after he couldn’t have them looking at the results of this information and wonder about him.
“You’d probably best put that down.”
The words drifted down the stairs into his hearing, a feminine whisper that probably belonged to the twin of the girl downstairs, Jani.
“You have a better idea?”
Masculine and not one of the sons of Piper Halliwell and Leo Wyatt. He’d know those voices. Didn’t Paige Matthews have a son as well as the twin girls? It was probably him.
“Come on, Jani. What would you have me do? We have nothing. I mean sure we have things, but nothing we can use, unless you want to count Dad’s boss and quite frankly, I think he’s provided as much use to us as he can. And where do we go when we have nothing? We go to the Book of Shadows.”
“You said you’ve been through the entire book more than once, Hank. You said there is nothing there.”
“I said things were missing and I didn’t say nothing. I mean I found information from that time frame, about Patrick Warren. Besides I’m doing something different this time.”
“What could you possibly be doing different that would be of use?”
“I’m looking for what’s missing.”
The watcher blinked at that. It might prove to be of no use, but it was kind of an interesting approach to it. He could see them now. The boy, Hank, was standing at the pedestal, flipping through what he could only assume was the Book of Shadows, definitely not looking in the direction of the stairs, but he’d be able to see the stairs out of the corner of his eyes and if the watcher made a move, Hank would definitely see it. And if he didn’t Jani was standing by the pedestal looking directly at the pedestal. It was kind of amazing that she hadn’t noticed him already.
Since they were looking his direction, they didn’t see the pink and white hearts forming behind Jani. And since they didn’t see them, it gave him just enough time to realize if he timed it right, he could use this as a distraction.
As soon as Jani and Hank turned their attention toward their cousin, the watcher made his move, scrambling as quietly as he could up the rest of the stairs and behind some chests near the door. Breathing a sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and tried to come up with the next step toward getting Charles’s story to them.
“Ladybug, what happened?” Jani called as she took several rushed steps toward Phoebe Halliwell’s oldest daughter, Prudence. He’d heard the name Ladybug before, but who wanted to go by such a name as a teenager? “Who was that call from?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
The watcher jerked his attention to Prudence. It was hard to tell from this distance and harder still at this angle, but she did look upset about something. Her tone certainly lead one to believe something bad had happened.
“What do we know about the warlocks who are behind this?” Prudence asked, squaring her shoulders. “It’s time to end this.”
“We know their names,” Hank told her. “Dad’s boss told us everything he could, but he’s not in contact with his father’s family and he never has been except for when they cast the curse on him that made talking about this improbable.”
Henry Mitchell’s boss sounded rather interesting. When this was over, he might need to pay the man a visit.
“We all want that,” Jani assured her. “Uncle Andy doesn’t have much time left and unless we figure something out better than what they have done in years past, Uncle Leo won’t be far behind him. Dad’s okay for now and if we could ever figure out where your parents are, your dad shouldn’t be affected by this, but people keep dying. Some of them we know. Most of them we don’t, but . . .” She shrugged. “If not us who?”
This wasn’t at all useful and it certainly didn’t help him figure out how to get the paper with Charles’s story to them. With Prudence in the mix, he thought it less likely that they would listen to him, not with her in the mood she was in. Of course she did seem rather desperate for information, so maybe that was good enough. Getting them to trust anything the watcher provided would be tricky and so the watcher continued the debate in his head.
Before he could decide what to do, blue and white hearts filled the room near Prudence. Wyatt’s face was downcast as he walked over to the couch where the watcher realized Wyatt’s brother slept and sat on the arm. “Someone drug Chris, too?” he asked almost too casually.
Three sets of eyes looked at him surprised. Even the watcher looked on him with interest from his hiding place. Someone had drugged the all powerful twice-blessed? That could prove to be useful information.
“Someone drugged you?” Jani asked, finding her tongue.
“Dr. Nicolae thought I needed rest.”
The watcher barely managed to suppress a loud scoff. Sounded like Wyatt had been up all night and then some on this, too. The young man rose a notch or two in the watcher’s mind. Sometimes you had to put off things like sleep in order to protect those you had been entrusted with.
“You probably did,” Prudence pointed out as she paced the room. “Most of us can use some sleep, but you’ve been up for how many days in a row?” Not waiting for an answer she pulled some papers out of her pockets and looked over them.
“Too many,” Wyatt admitted. “And when this is all over I’ll get more, but right now, I need this to be over.”
It seemed to be the echoing sentiment in the room.
“Are you all right, Wyatt?” Jani asked coming up next to him. “You look worse then you did before you got some sleep.” She stopped in front of him and reached out to touch his face. “Your eyes are bloodshot. Have you been crying?”
He shook his head. “No time for tears, Jani. I have at most two hours to find a way to save a dead co-worker’s brother. Are we getting anywhere?”
There was the question that the watcher most wanted answered, the question that seemed most likely to be no. If they were getting somewhere, the story he had to tell wouldn’t be needed, the solution he’d been told needn’t be used. Two less deaths to his conscious would be nice.
The door slammed open and Alanna finally returned to the attic, walking right passed the watcher with a scowl on her face. “People can be such jerks. You know that?”
All eyes in the room turned to look at her.
“What are you talking about, Lanna?” Jani asked.
“Is my sister okay?” Prudence asked, taking a couple of steps toward her.
Sister? Which sister? Another Halliwell cousin was here? Could that be what the watcher need to figure this out?”
“Oh, nothing,” Alanna sighed. “Sorry, I just went downstairs to check the news. I did check on Hope on the way back up and she’s fine, sound asleep. It’s just the TV guy. The one from earlier’s gotten sick, so the new one is being a jerk about it. Apparently they have a not so friendly rivalry.” She passed her sister and headed across the room to where her brother was looking at bits and pieces. “Anything useful in that mess?”
He shrugged. “I’m still going through it.”
Prudence walked over to them and handed Hank the papers she had retrieved from her pocket. “I’m not sure how much use this is, but it’s what I have right now.”
“And what exactly do we know?” Wyatt demanded. “Two hours isn’t a lot of time and we’ve gotten nowhere over the last several days.”
“We know who’s behind this,” Jani offered. “We even know that our family’s blood was the first shed. That could be important.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Melinda Warren’s grandmother was killed as a sacrifice by the people who started this,” Alanna told him. She sighed and looked down at the papers. “I think the answer might be in those papers, but there is is much information in here and much of it truly is useless. It’s hard to know where to start.”
“Speaking of information, any word from my sister, yet?” Prudence asked. “I would have thought she would have been involved in this fact finding mission.”
“I already told you Hope was downstairs asleep,” Alanna offered helpfully, “so I assume you mean silly.”
The watcher frowned. What did that even mean?”
“Still no news from her or Mom,” Jani informed her. Glancing at Hank, she added, “Well, other than what Hank told us earlier. You sure they don’t need our help?”
Hank shook his head, reluctantly looking up from the papers. “No, they are fine now. They only called me because they had a bit of trouble and then they sent me back to Lanna so that we could talk to Dad’s boss.” He ducked his head back down and continued looking through the papers.
Based on the look on his face when he was speaking, the watcher suspected “a bit” was more than a bit of an understatement.
“Right,” Prudence mumbled. “Silly is out meeting Melinda Warren’s father and grandparents. I forgot.”
The watcher almost slapped his forehead as realization hit. It was Cilly, not silly, short for Pricilla, Prudence and Hope’s middle sister. Her nickname was almost as odd as Prudence’s.
His eyes narrowed as the rest of what Prudence had said registered. Samuel Warren had been located? There was precious little to be found about the man, but considering the rather interesting resources the watcher had to comb through, the idea that someone knew where to find Samuel Warren was definitely news. Definitely something to look in later.
“Are you okay, Ladybug?” Jani asked, putting a hand on Prudence’s shoulder. “We told you all this earlier.”
Prudence shook her head. “I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Then, we won’t. You were going to call Cilly earlier. I know you didn’t get to it, but maybe you can try now. We could use whatever that have learned.”
Prudence nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“I might have something,” Hank called out as Prudence was pulling out her phone.
Alanna was closed to him, so she looked down at the papers in his hand and sighed. “No, that won’t work.”
“Why not? It makes sense. We can counter what they did. We have the information we need.”
Alanna shook her head hard. “The biggest problem I see is that we don’t have enough witches.”
“Enough?” Wyatt stared down at her, stunned. “How could we possibly not have enough witches? Our family is full of witches and beyond that, we have plenty of contacts with other witches, witches who undoubtedly want this stopped as much as we do.”
“Look, I may not be the best student when mom was trying to teach us, but think about it,” Alanna snapped. “There’s a bond in family and we aren’t the only family out there. A family did this, not some random collection of witches, a family, and they made sure that they had enough witches to form a coven. We don’t have that, not in our family alone.”
Lovely. They needed a coven. And they had one, except . . . He could see the pained look on Hank’s face. He’d heard enough to know something was wrong with Hank’s powers and he knew full well that young Hope hadn’t even come into hers. Two of the cousins who had come from the other timeline didn’t have any powers back. And of course Phoebe Halliwell was still missing. That left them with ten powered witches, not nearly enough for this.
And he was still stuck with no way to give them his information and only a vague idea of how he might deliver it. And that was the kicker wasn’t it? Even if it was possible to just stand up and hand them the information, which is surely was, how could they be convinced to trust it. It was nearly a certainty they wouldn’t if the watcher was revealed, not soon enough anyway. There was a chance they might be desperate enough, but what he asked no thing to be taken lightly. They had to be sure.
The watcher eyed Chris asleep on the couch. The rumor in the underworld was that Chris could turn himself invisible. Wouldn’t that be handy for this?
None of the girls possessed powers that would be of use to him. Teleportation he had and ice or fire would just make a mess, not help things.
There was Wyatt’s rather unusual talent for teleporting objects without touching them. The watcher was unsure if Wyatt’s brother shared that talent, but it didn’t really matter since the watcher didn’t.
His favorite was an ability the youngest boy in the room, Hank Mitchell, had and that was what caused a grin to spread across the watcher’s face as he remembered that this ability at least was something the watcher could use.
“Hey! Watch it!”
Not sure what just happened, the watcher took just enough time to make sure that no one was looking toward the stairs and moved toward the still open door as fast and quiet as he could.
Time to talk to a different member of the Halliwell family, one who would listen to him.