Beware What You Wish

by Diana G. Gallagher

  “You tell me.” Crossing her arms, Piper fixed Phoebe with a piercing stare. Her effervescent younger sister, who usually drove her to distraction with nonstop babbling, had said hardly a word since they’d left the supermarket.

  “Tell you what?” Phoebe frowned. “And turn off the Grams stare. It makes me feel like I’m five years old again.”

  “Sorry.” Piper moved one hand up to cup her chin and tried to soften her stern expression. She had never liked their grandmother’s all-knowing stare, either. As a child, she had been certain Grams was tuned in to some mysterious force that spied and reported on their every move. It wasn’t until she had grown up that she realized their own guilty behavior had usually given them away.

  “Like that time Grams told me not to wear my new patent leather shoes outside to play.” A wistful smile dawned on Phoebe’s face. “I cleaned the mud off the shiny black part with a towel and didn’t figure out until years later that the towel and the mud on the soles had tipped her off.”

  “I remember,” Piper said.

  “I thought she really did have eyes in the back of her head.” Phoebe laughed.

  “And changing the subject won’t help you with me any more than it helped with Grams back then.” Piper leveled Phoebe with another pointed stare.

  “What does that mean?” Phoebe looked genuinely confused.

  “Until your trip down memory lane, you’ve been awfully quiet,” Piper said. “One thing that hasn’t changed in the past twenty years is that you only stop talking when you’ve got something heavy on your mind.”

  “That obvious, huh?” Phoebe glanced out the side window, sighed, then looked at Piper and shrugged. “It’s probably nothing.”

  “Phoebe!” Piper raised her voice in exasperation. “We’re not budging until you talk, even if the sour cream curdles before we get home.”

  “Threats will get you nowhere,” Phoebe quipped. Her grin faded when Piper didn’t laugh. “Okay, it’s the visions. Too many, too close together, and too totally weird.”

  Piper stiffened. Anything unusual regarding their powers was cause for concern. “How many and how weird?”

  “Three at the supermarket,” Phoebe explained, “ranging from a paper cut to a crushed stock boy.”

  “;Almost crushed stock boy and a close call with getting caught stopping time. Not to mention an almost broken wrist for me.” Not fun, Piper thought, but she didn’t understand why that was bothering her sister. Normally, Phoebe took living dangerously in stride. “I don’t understand the weird part.”

  “I saw the cashier cut her finger.” A touch of anxiety crept into Phoebe’s voice.

  “And that’s bad?” Piper was still lost.

  “I don’t know. It’s just that it was such a little thing.” A worried scowl darkened Phoebe’s face. “My visions are never trivial.”

  “Well, apparently, they are now.” Piper frowned, too, but she was puzzled. She didn’t want to belittle Phoebe’s concern, but she didn’t see the problem. Her own ability to freeze and Prue’s telekinetic strength had increased dramatically since their powers had been restored. They would have been a lot stronger if Grams hadn’t cast a spell to make the sisters’ powers dormant for their protection as kids. Prue could even astral project at will. Phoebe had acquired the power to levitate herself, but that was a gift from a vanquished bad guy and not a natural —

  “Yeah,” Phoebe agreed, “but why?

  Piper slapped her forehead. “Maybe because your power is getting more fine tuned, stronger, like Prue’s telekinetic whammy.”

  Phoebe brightened immediately. “You think?”

  “Have you got a better theory?” Piper dropped the car keys into her purse.

  “Nope. Let’s shop. I’ve suddenly got a craving for fresh fruit.” Obviously relieved, Phoebe jumped out of the car and followed Piper into the store. “So what’s the scoop on the new bartender?”

  “Rick. Grad student, psychology, working on a thesis that has something to do with pop culture, which is why he wanted the job.” Piper waved at Sam, the store’s owner, and slipped the handles of a plastic basket over her arm.

  “Oh.” Phoebe frowned. “So maybe his interest in me wasn’t romantic. Maybe he just thought I might make a good research subject.”

  “Maybe. Don’t know,” Piper teased. “I guess you’ll just have to meet him to find out.”

  “Lab rat or dinner date?” Phoebe grimaced. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  While Phoebe wandered off to inspect the fruit section, Piper browsed through the bins of fresh vegetables. Sam’s produce market had grown from a small storefront into a sprawling establishment. As she made her selections, Piper was glad that circumstances had forced her to make the extra stop. Sam’s produce was fresher and less expensive than the supermarket’s. P3 was starting to boom, but with Prue freelancing and Phoebe going to school, every dollar saved was a bonus.

  “Hurry up, Phoebe!” Piper called when she had finished. She pointed toward the front of the store, where Sam was making change from an oldfashioned cash register.

  “One more minute!” Phoebe picked up a quart of strawberries and hurried toward her.

  Shaking her head, Piper stood to wait her turn behind a young woman with a toddler in a stroller. The little boy had bright red hair that clashed with the red-checkered shirt he wore under blue denim bib overalls. Green lollipop goo ran down the stick to his fingers when he held out the treat.

  “Pop!” The boy giggled.

  “That’s okay. You eat it.” Piper smiled when the boy’s mother looked back. “Cute kid.”

  “Thanks.” The woman set her bag on top of the stroller canopy. “Come on, Nathan. Daddy’s taking us to lunch and we’re late.”

  Piper set her basket on the wooden counter, wondering if the woman always fed her son candy before meals.

  “How you doin’, Piper?” Sam’s gold tooth gleamed in the sun when he grinned. Sixty, with the stubble of a white beard, he wore baggy pants held up by suspenders and a plaid shirt with a torn pocket.

  “I’m fine, Sam. And you?” Piper wasn’t sure how long Sam had been selling fruits and vegetables. His store had been there as far back as she could remember, and he would be missed if he ever retired.

  Cradling a bag of oranges and a bunch of barely ripe bananas in one arm, Phoebe stopped at the end of the counter. She balanced the container of strawberries on top of the bananas and held it steady with her chin so she could grab a couple of kiwi.

  Behind Phoebe, the young mother finished arranging her bundles and started to push the stroller toward the door.

  “Uh-oh!” Phoebe yelped.

  Before Piper could react, the young woman turned and caught the basket of red berries before it fell.

  “Thanks,” Phoebe said with a sheepish grin. “I can be a real klutz.”

  “Happens to me all the time.” After setting the strawberries on the counter, the woman put her hand in her pocket as she pushed the stroller out the door. When she pulled out her keys, a pacifier flipped out of her pocket.

  Awkwardly Phoebe managed to unload the oranges and bananas on the counter, then scooped up the pacifier. She was instantly caught in the grip of another vision. Unbalanced by bending over, she fell to her hands and knees with her eyes closed.

  “Phoebe?” Sam’s eyes widened.

  Piper ran to her sister and knelt down, her own heart pounding as she saw the pacifier. She was anxious to know what was flashing through Phoebe’s mind, but she had to wait until she snapped out of the daze. One thing was clear without Phoebe’s confirmation.

  Some kind of disaster was going to befall Nathan.

  “Come on, Phoebe,” Piper urged. Her pulse rate had doubled by the time her sister came to. “What?”

  “Car accident.” Alert and now on her feet, Phoebe glanced toward the street. Nathan’s mother had just pulled her steel gray minivan into traffic. “Let’s go.”

  “Hold my stuff, Sam!” Piper called over he
r shoulder as she ran after Phoebe. She had the car door closed, her seat belt fastened, and the engine running before Phoebe buckled up. “Where?”

  “I’m not sure.” Phoebe craned her neck to track the minivan down the busy boulevard. “Hurry, before we lose them!”

  Piper’s stomach knotted, remembering Nathan’s cheerful face. She wouldn’t be able to sleep if anything happened to him because she and Phoebe didn’t arrive in time. Gravel flew as she backed up, and the tires spun when she shifted into drive. She slammed on the brakes at the exit and pounded her fist on the steering wheel. A steady stream of traffic whizzed by in both directions.

  “Come on, Piper!” Phoebe’s voice was tight with urgency, her gaze still trained on the van stopped at a traffic light. “That light could change any second and we might lose them.”

  “Hang on!” Piper gunned the engine and shot into the street with little margin for error as a pickup truck roared toward her. She slowed to let a yellow convertible speeding in the opposite direction pass, then gunned the engine again.

  “Watch it!” Phoebe cringed, but she didn’t take her eyes off the gray minivan.

  The driver of the pickup truck slammed on the brakes and just missed clipping Piper’s bumper as she yanked the steering wheel hard to the left. The car fishtailed as Piper whipped into the flow of traffic. As soon as it straightened out, she zipped into the right-hand lane.

  “Where’d you learn how to do that?” Phoebe asked with a hint of admiration. “Crash course in stunt driving?”

  “;Smokey and the Bandit.” Piper wiped one of her sweaty hands on her pants, then switched her grip on the steering wheel and wiped the other. The classic car-chase movie was a secret favorite. “I saw it five times.”

  “Uh-huh.” Phoebe raised herself up from the seat and pointed out the windshield. “They’re turning right.”

  “Got it.” Piper rode the tail of the car in front of her and turned right just as the light turned red. Three cars separated them from the minivan cruising in the right lane ahead.

  With the van in sight and the daredevil phase of the mission behind her, Piper watched for an opening to pass and shifted her focus to the imminent accident. “What should we be looking for?”

  “I’m not sure. The van just kind of got mangled in a blur of red.” Phoebe caught her lip in her teeth and scanned the surrounding area when the mini-van stopped at another red light. “I don’t have a clue, Piper. Nothing looks familiar.”

  “So maybe it doesn’t happen right away,” Piper suggested as she brought the car to a stop. Either that or Phoebe’s brain had gone mushy from over-load. Four visions in a couple of hours had to be a record.

  Phoebe frowned, shook her head. “No, I’m pretty sure — ”

  The blare of an approaching siren cut her off.

  “That’s it!” Phoebe’s eyes bulged with sudden horror. “Fire truck. Coming from over there.” She pointed toward the cross street on the left. Dozens of cars pulled over or halted in the middle of the road even though they had the green light. “She’s going to pull out in front of it.”

  Piper fought off panic as the hopelessness of the situation hit her. With three cars between them and the minivan and less than a minute to go before impact, stopping the collision was impossible — except for her power. There was no way she could freeze the entire intersection and everything in it, Piper realized. Her power just wasn’t that strong.

  But she couldn’t just sit and do nothing.

  “Your turn to drive, Phoebe.” Without taking time to explain, Piper threw open the door and jumped out. The blast of the siren grew louder as she ran between two rows of cars toward the van.

  From the corner of her eye, Piper saw the large fire truck race down the center turn lane past the stopped traffic. Siren screeching, the red giant entered the intersection — just as the gray minivan rolled forward to make a right turn.

  Piper was stunned. Was Nathan’s mom in such a hurry to meet her husband she was willing to risk her life and her son’s? Or, perhaps, she couldn’t hear the siren because her car stereo was cranked or Nathan was crying. All the possible explanations rose in Piper’s mind as she raised her hands and froze the van.

  The fire truck roared past as the traffic light changed.

  Emotionally and physically drained, Piper unfroze the van, which lurched to a halt as the woman reacted to the startling gap in her perceptions. She probably had no idea how close she and Nathan had come to sudden death.

  Emotionally and physically drained, Piper’s heart lurched when the cars behind the van leaned on their horns. She hurried back to the car, slid into the passenger seat, and sagged.

  “Nice going.” Phoebe grinned and asked casually, “Back to Sam’s?”

  Piper nodded. She hoped Phoebe’s magic touch didn’t tune into any more innocents in distress while she paid Sam for their abandoned fruits and vegetables. One more rescue and her sour cream would turn to spoiled sour soup in the midday heat.

  Waiting for the light to change again, Phoebe cast a sidelong glance at Piper. “So just how tall, how tan, and how hot is Rick on a scale of one to ten?”

  Phoebe dropped a bag of groceries on the counter and sighed, glad to be home. She had stayed in the car while Piper finished her business with Sam. Although Phoebe hadn’t said anything, she had developed a slight headache. Going shopping had put a dent in her lazy day, but she hadn’t bargained on running a rescue marathon that left her feeling as if she had been hit by a truck.

  “Where’s Prue?” Piper dropped the last bag on the table and opened the refrigerator.

  “Still in her darkroom, I guess.” Phoebe began unloading her bag. She handed Piper everything that needed to be kept cold and tried to think of a good reason to bail on the “making” part of the snack fest. Aside from being exhausted after their multiple adventures, she didn’t have Piper’s culinary skills, even when no actual cooking was involved. Mixing magical potions was entirely different.

  “You look beat.” Piper cast a sidelong glance at Phoebe as she stuffed plastic grocery bags into a paper bag for recycling.

  “I am a little tired,” Phoebe admitted. “Do you mind if I beg off making black bread squares? Mine will probably come out looking more like trapezoids anyway.”

  “Trapezoids would be interesting,” Piper teased, “but I can manage without you.”

  “You sure?” Phoebe gave Piper three containers of cream cheese and sank into a kitchen chair.

  “Positive.” Piper stuffed the cream cheese in the fridge, then picked up the kettle. “Want some tea?”

  Phoebe nodded. A soothing cup of tea, aspirin, and a nap might cure the headache. Dropping her chin on her folded arms, she glanced to the side when Prue came out of the darkroom. She looked upset.

  Piper turned on the kettle and eased into a chair when Prue sat down. “You look like I feel when I ruin a soufflÈ, Prue. Didn’t your shots of Tremaine come out?”

  “Most of them did.” Exhaling, Prue spread the photos on the table.

  “Gee, Stephen Tremaine looks just like our couch.” Phoebe raised an eyebrow. Why had Prue created a portrait gallery of the Halliwell furniture?

  “This is good.” Piper moved one of the shots closer. “You really captured the inner essence of the coffee table.”

  Prue playfully cuffed Piper’s arm. “That wasn’t the objective. I was testing the film and the lens for defects.”

  “Oh.” Phoebe sat up to get a better look and frowned. “They look fine to me.”

  “I know.” Prue’s eyes narrowed with dismay. “That’s the problem.”

  “It is?” Piper jumped up when the kettle whistled and took it off the burner.

  “Yeah.” Prue pulled a photo of Tremaine out from under the scattered pile.

  “Great shot, Prue!” Phoebe nodded, impressed. The lighting and angle softened the hard lines of Tremaine’s face. His expression seemed a bit befuddled, though. “What’s that?” Phoebe pointed to the oval stone in Tr
emaine’s hand.

  “That’s the problem.” Prue took a cup of steaming tea from Piper, but her puzzled gaze remained on the picture.

  “I can see why.” Piper handed Phoebe a cup and sat down again. “How come he’s holding a rock?”

  “It’s not a rock. Well, not exactly.” Prue sipped her tea then set it aside. “According to Tremaine it’s some kind of spirit stone from an ancient culture in South America. He said it’s thousands of years old.” She frowned again as she ran her finger over the image.

  Curious, Phoebe pulled her glasses from the cloth bag she had dropped on the table and slipped them on. The wispy gray discoloration on the image instantly came into focus. “It’s smudged or something.”

  “Yep.” Prue’s mouth set in a tight line.

  “Bummer.” Piper patted Prue’s shoulder. “It was a great shot. I’m sure Tremaine would have loved it.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about.” Prue hesitated, caught Phoebe and Piper’s bewildered stares, and picked up the picture of the couch. “This shot is fine. This one isn’t.” She tapped the photo of Tremaine. “And I don’t know why.”

  Piper stiffened, suddenly on edge. “And this is a problem because?”

  “You have to go back and reshoot Tremaine?” Phoebe offered.

  Prue shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with the lens. Could be a manufacturing defect in the film — or maybe it’s something else.”

  Phoebe’s heart skipped a beat. For the Charmed Ones, “something else” usually translated as “something bad,” and that usually meant big, bad trouble.

  So much for my nap, Phoebe thought with a weary sigh.

  CHAPTER

  6

  The calm, studious atmosphere in the university library took the edge off Prue’s frayed nerves as she followed Phoebe to a study table in a quiet corner. Her pulse was still racing from their mad dash across campus to save a student from being struck by a tree limb.

  “I need to sit down.” Phoebe slipped into a chair and rubbed her temples.

  “Ditto that.” Prue dropped her bag and the folder with the photos of Tremaine and the spirit stone on the table. “Are you sure you’re okay?”