Date with Death

by Elizabeth Lenhard

  “Whoa,” Phoebe said. “What are you doing?”

  “Well, I've got a lot of dates to cancel, so I better get on it,” Paige said, glancing at the end of the table where Leo and Piper were glaring at each other. “Leo, can you pass me the toast?”

  When Leo ignored Paige, she glanced at Phoebe with her eyebrows raised.

  “Married love,” Phoebe whispered with a giggle. “It's a mystery.”

  “Not for long, it isn't,” Cole said as he slipped into the dining room and gave Phoebe a kiss on the nape of her neck.

  “Oh . . . hi, honey,” Phoebe said with a nervous laugh. “Paige was just about to do something crazy.”

  Paige looked up from her Palm Pilot in annoyance.

  “Crazy? What crazy?” she protested. “Yesterday everyone was saying I was ‘fast’ for dating so many guys. Now I'm all ready to become a one-man woman and I'm nuts?”

  “Honey, don't you think it's a little premature to commit to Max?” Piper chimed in, giving Leo a sidelong glance. “After all, it's amazing how long it takes to really get to know a person!”

  “Hey!” Leo said. “What's that supposed to mean, Piper? You know, I think it's time for me to give you a little quiz. Let's see if you can take it as well as you can dish it out.”

  He reached across the table and snatched some of the papers stacked by Piper's elbow.

  Phoebe rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Paige.

  “Here's the thing,” she said to her sister. “If you really think you want Max to be your boyfriend, the best thing you could do is keep dating other guys.”

  “And that makes sense, how?” Paige asked.

  “Standard dating dogma,” Phoebe said casually. “Love finds you only when you stop looking. The guy who likes you, you don't like. And the guy you like, doesn't like you. In other words, what you usually get in romance is the inverse of your desire.”

  “Uh-huh,” Paige said, looking confused as Cole squinted at Phoebe in amusement.

  “So you want Max all to yourself?” Phoebe concluded. “Show him how popular you are. Be a little unavailable. Desperation is sure to ensue.”

  “Phoebe,” Cole joked, grabbing a slice of toast off her plate. “I had no idea you were such a player. What sort of wiles did you work on me when we first met?”

  “No wiles for you, Cole,” Phoebe said. “Just your standard falling in love, getting my heart broken, falling back in love and, hopefully, living happily ever after.”

  “Standard,” Cole said, his eyes softening a bit. “Sure. But not for you. You were single-girl extraordinaire before we met.”

  Phoebe looked quickly at her plate. Her mind flashed on her former life—dating, dancing 'til dawn, each night on the town heightened by the possibility of meeting your soul mate. And the truth was, she'd never really expected to meet him, that mythical soul mate. Cole had jumped into her heart almost despite herself.

  And now she was on the bridal fast track. It almost made her head spin.

  Cole was staring at her, almost as if he could read her mind.

  “I'm no Josh Skilling,” he said, his voice low and rumbly. “Of course, maybe that's what you want.”

  “No . . .” Phoebe said. “'Course not.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Cole said. “Because I can see how being strung along by a guy with ice in his veins could be really appealing.”

  “Cole!” Phoebe looked up at him, feeling stung. Then she flounced out of her chair.

  Phoebe glanced at Leo, who was flipping through Piper's quizzes and curling his lip.

  Suddenly, I know just how Leo feels, being under the romantic microscope, Phoebe thought. I think it's time to duck out from under the lens.

  “I'll get the dishes,” she announced, grabbing her plate and avoiding Cole's eyes. She swung around to Paige's corner of the table and leaned in to pick up her sister's plate. As she did, her fingertips brushed Paige's turquoise Palm Pilot.

  And that's when Phoebe felt the familiar rush.

  She gasped and felt her head dive into some nebulous, shimmery place. Then her mind began to swim with frantic images. She was in full-on premonition mode.

  She saw a young couple, embracing against a brick wall. The woman was blond and curvy. Her left hand was curled casually around her date's neck as he kissed her. Then, through the fog of the vision, Phoebe saw the girl's hand clench. She began to scratch at her suitor, struggling to get away.

  Phoebe's mind flashed forward to the girl's body. Her chest was bathed in blood.

  Next the scene replayed itself. The people were new, but the scenario was the same:

  Kiss.

  Kill.

  Kiss.

  Kill.

  Phoebe was finally released from the premonition when the third girl fell, her pale hand landing in an oily puddle with a thud.

  Phoebe gasped again and felt the breakfast plate she was holding fly from her hand, shattering at her feet. Clutching her temples in pain, she slumped to the floor and moaned.

  “Phoebe!” Cole cried, jumping behind her to catch her head before it hit the floor. “What is it? What did you see?”

  Phoebe gazed up at Cole and tried to forget the hostility that had been pulsing between them only a minute ago.

  Because the young women in her vision had it a lot worse than her.

  Their love had gotten them killed.

  chapter

  4

  Half an hour after Phoebe's premonition, Darryl Morris was at the front door. Piper had called him immediately.

  “Hey, guys,” Darryl said, stepping into the foyer and giving Piper and her sisters a warm smile. Piper handed him a cup of coffee and patted his shoulder.

  What would we do without Darryl? she thought with a sigh. Sometimes I can't believe how lucky we were to become friends with a police detective who lets us collaborate on cases and isn't freaked by our supernatural selves. We've never had to worry about Darryl blowing our cover.

  “So does Phoebe's premonition mean anything to you?” Piper asked, guiding Darryl into the conservatory. The rest of the group was camped out in the sun-filled room, lounging on the pretty white wicker furniture.

  Phoebe still looked a little pale and shaky. Her premonitions always seemed to drain her of energy. It was the most debilitating of any of the sisters' powers, which sometimes made Piper feel guilty. She sat on the arm of Phoebe's chair and put a protective arm around her shoulders as Darryl started talking.

  “I was literally reaching for the phone to call you when you rang me up, Piper,” he said, settling his big, bearish frame onto one of the loveseats. “There were three murders last night—all very similar. And definitely supernatural.”

  “How can you tell?” Paige said in alarm. “What happened to them?”

  “Well, the bodies are still in the pathology lab, but initial reports say there were no weapons used,” Darryl said.

  “But in my premonition,” Phoebe said, “there was so much blood!”

  “And your mind didn't lie,” Darryl said grimly. “These girls' hearts had been ripped from their chests. And I don't know any human who would be capable of sucking a heart out of a chest cavity without so much as a penknife.”

  Piper flinched at the image.

  These are the moments I most loathe our witchy lifestyle, she thought. Who else has to deal with death and demons on, like, a weekly basis?

  She stood up wearily and said, “So, girls, the usual? Book of Shadows? Scrying for demon locations?”

  “You got it,” Phoebe said.

  “I guess I better call and cancel my brunch date,” Paige said.

  “Actually, maybe that's not such a good idea,” Leo piped up. He was standing behind Paige with that thoughtful look he always got when he was in Whitelighter mode. “Phoebe, you got your premonition after touching Paige's Palm Pilot, right?”

  “Uh-huh,” Phoebe said. “At least I think that's what set it off.”

  “So . . . maybe whatever's in
the Palm Pilot could lead us to the demon,” Leo said.

  “What?!” Paige said shakily. “But my whole life is in there! Addresses for everyone I know. A calendar for the past year. I don't know how we'd get through it all.”

  “Okay, the Palm Pilot isn't the best clue,” Piper said. “But the victims might be. Darryl, do you know anything about them?”

  “Well, they all fit the same profile—midtwenties, attractive, single. Names are . . .”

  Darryl flipped through a file, then read, “Christy Farthington, Betsy Pollack, Carla Janowski.”

  “Ahhh!” Phoebe cried. “Carla Janowski? I know her! I saw her just a few days ago!”

  “You're kidding,” Piper said. “Oh, honey, I'm sorry. Was she a close friend? I've never heard you mention her.”

  Phoebe slumped back into her wicker chair with tears in her eyes.

  “No, we just had some classes together at school,” she said, her voice trembling with guilt. “In fact, I didn't even like her that much. But Carla was harmless. I can't believe she's been murdered.”

  Darryl sat down on the edge of the coffee table and leaned toward Phoebe.

  “Phoebe, think. Did Carla say anything to you that might help us?” he urged.

  Phoebe shook her head and shrugged.

  “I don't know,” she said. “She was all excited about my engagement, I remember. And she was bumming out about being single.”

  Suddenly Phoebe gasped and stared at Paige.

  “Carla was the one who told me about Kiss.com,” she breathed. “She'd just signed up for the service.”

  “Now, that's a clue,” Leo said. Then he turned to Paige. “Which means you better not be late for your date.”

  “Are you kidding?” Paige squealed, jumping off the couch. “What if this serial killer is my brunch date? What then?”

  “Then I orb you out of there,” Leo said. “What, did you think I'd let you go alone?”

  Piper saw Paige relax a little bit. But just a little bit.

  “Look, Paige,” she said. “The odds that your date is our demon are slim. I mean, none of your other Kissers tried to steal your heart, right?”

  “Not lethally, anyway,” Cole said with a slight smile.

  “I guess you're right,” Paige said. “And with Leo with me, it'll probably be just fine.”

  “Totally,” Phoebe said, jumping off the chair. She'd recovered from her shock.

  When Phoebe gets gung ho, Piper thought with a smile, stand back.

  “Okay, so we have a plan,” Phoebe announced. “Paige and Leo will go scan Mr. Coffee Date for horns and scales. And while you're gone, Piper and I will do our Book of Shadows thing.”

  “You make it almost sound fun,” Paige said, hauling herself to her feet. She slumped into the foyer and grabbed her purse.

  “Let me tell you, Paige,” Phoebe said, “after a few years of the Wiccan life, you get used to it.”

  “Sad but true,” Piper said. “All right, guys. Let's get to work.”

  Ninety minutes later, everyone's enthusiasm had definitely cooled.

  “Okay, is our crystal on the blink?” Phoebe complained. She was in the attic of Halliwell Manor with Piper, scrying. That is, she was dangling a magic crystal over a map of San Francisco. The crystal was supposed to drop when it hit the place where a demon was lurking.

  But today the crystal was not cooperating. She'd checked everywhere, even in the far reaches of the 'burbs. But their demon seemed to be AWOL.

  “I don't get it,” Piper said from her perch behind the lectern where they kept the Book of Shadows. “This demon's holding three human hearts. And he's also got time to disappear into thin air?”

  She went back to flipping through the Book. If anybody had a jaundiced eye about being a witch, it was Piper. But when she was studying the Book of Shadows she couldn't help but feel awe. After all, generations of Halliwell women had created this book with its supple, leather cover and age-yellowed, parchment pages. Over the centuries they'd written about demons, warlocks, and other random evils they'd come across.

  But over the years Piper and her sisters had also learned—the hard way—that the Book of Shadows didn't have all the answers.

  And this was clearly one of those times. She'd flipped through much of the Book, but hadn't spotted any demon that stole hearts.

  “Well, I guess we can be thankful for one thing,” Phoebe said, as she let the crystal hover above a street corner on the map. “I'm at the restaurant where Paige is having brunch and there's no demon there.”

  “There's no Paige there either,” Paige said as she appeared at the attic door. There were shadows beneath her eyes and she was totally devoid of post-date pep. Leo slumped up the stairs behind Paige.

  “What happened?” Phoebe cried, dropping the crystal on the map and running to the attic door. “You both look like you've been through the wringer.”

  “Only the most boring date ever,” Paige yawned. “The veterinarian was no demon. I would have welcomed the diversion of a demon. On the plus side, I have coupons for all of us. Free spaying or neutering for all our pets.”

  “Don't listen to her, Sweetie,” Phoebe said. She reached down to cover the ears of the sisters' Siamese cat, who'd been lurking around her feet as she scryed. Every witch had a familiar and Sweetie was theirs. “We'll get some kittens out of you yet.”

  Leo stole over to Piper with a pained look on his face.

  “And you think I need a relationship quiz?” he hissed. “You should have seen the two of them. I could hear the sighs of boredom all the way over at my table ten feet away. It's like they had nothing to say.”

  Piper gave him a look and put her finger to her lips. Then she walked over to Paige and gave her a sympathetic frown.

  “Well, you did one for the home team, Paige,” she said. “At least we know he's not a demon!”

  “Arrrrgggh,” Paige said, yawning loudly as she gave Piper a lame nod. “I'm hungry. Is there anything to eat downstairs.”

  “Hello,” Leo gasped, “didn't I just see you eat an entire spinach frittata with a side of hash browns?”

  “I know,” Paige said with a shrug. “But somehow I feel so empty. It's like that date drained me of something.”

  Paige headed to the stairs with Piper, Phoebe and Leo on her heels.

  “Not to add to the gloom, but I do feel I should point out that we're still demonless,” Piper said as the group headed to the kitchen. “If we have to screen Paige's suitors date-by-date, I'm afraid we're going to lose more innocents in the meantime.”

  “She's right,” Phoebe said, biting her lip. She flopped into the desk chair and fiddled with the computer's mouse. “We need to broaden our reach. Go somewhere that's crawling with men on the make.”

  “And come to think of it, I have to go to work tonight,” Piper said, winking at her sister. “At a nightclub that happens to be crawling with men on the make.”

  “P3,” Leo said.

  “Perfect. Paige will be bait.” Paige, who'd been rifling through the fridge in search of munchies, groaned. She emerged with an apple and a glare.

  “Me? Again?” she sputtered. “Why not Piper or Phoebe?”

  “Paige, we own P3,” Piper said. “Everyone knows Phoebe and I aren't single.”

  “How convenient,” Paige grumbled. Then she grabbed a jar of peanut butter from the pantry, smeared a big gob of the stuff onto her apple, and took a big, irritable bite.

  “Ugh, why did you let me eat so much this afternoon?” Paige groaned. It was 11 P.M. that night, prime pick-up hour at P3. And unlike most Saturday nights of her life, Paige couldn't have been less in the mood. She was slumped over the bar, in a post-binge haze.

  “Don't worry, you look great. I particularly like the electric blue, rubber dress, Paige,” Piper said as she wiped off glasses behind the bar. She peeked over the bar and grinned. “And fourinch heels. Really completes the package.”

  “Listen, I only want to have to be bait once,” Paige
said, taking a loud slurp of her diet soda. “I'm going to make it count. And I'm going to snare us a demon.”

  “That's the spirit,” Cole said as he and Phoebe bellied up to the bar. “Paige, you look positively . . . fetching.”

  “Thanks for the diplomacy,” Paige said. She knew she looked outrageous, even for her. She opened her tiny blue purse and pulled out a compact to swipe another smear of hot-pink gloss onto her lips.

  “Well, I better go play fetch,” she said. Giving her sisters a tremulous wave and glancing at Leo, who was stationed near the club door, she plunged into the throng.

  Funny how flirting, dancing, and picking up dudes becomes a total chore once you have to do it, Paige thought, giving a guy on the dance floor an exaggerated wink as she sidled up next to him.

  Ugh, smell that cologne, she complained to herself as she began shimmying her hips and smiling at the circle of men that quickly formed around her.

  “Hi, what's your name?” she cooed to one with a particularly prominent—possibly demonic?—forehead.

  “All you need to know about me, baby, is this,” said the guy. Then he reached into his pocket.

  Paige felt her heart leap.

  Is he reaching for a weapon? she thought as her breath started coming in shallow gasps. She spun around to look for Leo or her sisters. But she couldn't see a thing except a whole lot of leering, dancing men.

  Jingle, jingle, jingle.

  Fearfully Paige turned back to Mr. Forehead. He was thrusting something at her; a key chain.

  “That's right. I drive a Lexus, sweetheart,” he said. “Want to see it?”

  Okay, he's asking me to step outside, Paige thought. Maybe he's our guy. Although, could a demon possibly be this cheesy?

  Reluctantly Paige forced a sultry smile and put her hand in Mr. Forehead's sweaty one.

  “All right,” she agreed. Then she followed him toward P3's door. Trailing behind him, she hopped up and down and waved to attract her sisters' attention. Piper spotted her and motioned Phoebe and Cole toward the door.

  As they climbed the stairs to P3's door, Paige cringed at the clamminess of Mr. Forehead's hand.

  Is it because he's a demon or just a loser? she wondered, feeling her heart pound beneath her rubber dress.