“No, she hasn’t.” As Piper pulled a ponytail holder out of her pocket, the leather protection charm popped out and fell on the ground. She dropped into a squat to pick it up.
In the same instant, Prue heard a high-pitched whine. The sound intensified as the temperature of the air around her face plunged to freezing.
Athulak! With no time to shout an alarm, Prue watched as her sister’s fingers seemed to reach for the charm in excruciating slow motion. In her mind, she saw Piper’s head roll, separated from her neck with a swift stroke of the wind spirit’s molecular sword.
She blinked when the whine became a higherpitched, keening cry of outrage and sensed that the invisible entity had suddenly veered off.
Piper stood up and slipped the charm back into her pocket, then pulled her hair back and secured it with the holder. Her eyes narrowed with bewilderment when she noticed Prue staring. “What?”
“The protection charm works.” Prue straightened with a tight smile.
Piper looked up sharply to scan the sky, her hand darting to her neck. “You’re sure?”
“Field tested and approved.” Prue noted Piper’s gasp as the significance of her words sank in, but they didn’t have time to celebrate her narrow escape. Noel Jefferson and Paul were next up to get on the Ferris wheel. “Let’s move. Somehow we have to talk Mr. Jefferson out of going on that ride.”
Piper nodded and fell into a brisk walk beside Prue as the ride operator brought the next empty bucket to a stop over the loading platform. Jefferson let the boy get in first, paused to buckle his seat belt, then stepped inside and sat down.
Prue quickened her pace, having no idea what to say. Nothing convincing came to mind. They’d sound like deranged lunatics if they told him the truth.
The operator locked the safety bar in place and Prue broke into a run. “Wait!”
What to say ceased to be a problem when the bodyguards spun toward the sound of Prue’s voice. They recognized her instantly. It didn’t require much imagination to figure out what was going through their minds as they positioned themselves to the block the advance of two frantic, running women. Whether they thought she and Piper were overly zealous fans or a potential threat, the two men had no intention of letting them near their man.
Prue’s heart fluttered when the operator started the wheel. Jefferson’s bucket rose and lurched to a stop as the next bucket moved into place. It was the last empty bucket on the giant wheel.
“So much for talking.” Piper said as they stopped and faced off the guards. “I’d say this qualifies as an emergency, wouldn’t you?”
“Major emergency,” Prue said. “Permission granted.”
Piper froze the guards, the people in the immediate vicinity, and the wheel. Risky, Prue thought as they dashed past the other people waiting in line and the scowling men to jump into the bucket, but necessary.
“Buckle up,” Piper said as she waved her hand to set real time back in motion.
The operator blinked, shrugged, and locked down the safety bar without giving their sudden appearance a second thought. Prue realized he went through the repetitive motions of his job with little or no change in routine, but she didn’t breathe easily until he sat down on a metal stool and depressed the lever to start the ride.
Jefferson’s two guards did not take her and Piper’s disappearance quite so casually, Prue noted with satisfaction. They both jerked and looked from side to side, completely thrown off balance, with their grim confidence broken. When the mustached man looked over his shoulder and saw her, Prue smiled and waved.
“Stop that thing!” The guard stormed up to the operator. “Now!”
The operator rolled his eyes and shooed him away. “Scram, buddy!”
Riding the wheel upward under Jefferson’s bucket, Prue stared back at the befuddled guards. Then, after the bucket rounded the top of the circle, she focused solely on Jefferson, whose bucket seat was below them on the downward side.
Neither she nor Piper spoke.
Gripping the safety bar, Piper stared down, too. Every muscle in her slim body was steeled, waiting for that critical split second when their powers could mean the difference between success and failure.
The wheel went around and around, but the sight of the distant horizon and the carnival atmosphere of the amusement park below existed outside Prue’s frame of reference. She kept her eyes on the bucket that hovered over her as they went up and dropped below them as they went down.
On the fifth revolution, the keening whine of Athulak riding the currents overhead cracked Prue’s concentration. The spirit’s presence alerted her to a danger they hadn’t considered. Phoebe hadn’t seen what made Jefferson fall or if he was headless when he tumbled.
Prue fumbled her protection charm out of her pocket as the high-pitched sound intensified and waited eternal seconds for the wheel to start its downward course. At just the right moment, she dropped the leather pouch onto the top of Jefferson’s bucket. When it started to slide off, she telekinetically flicked it onto the floor of the car by Jefferson’s feet.
Piper’s eyes widened as Athulak screamed by the front of their car.
“Don’t worry,” Prue said, still watching Jefferson’s car as they sped past the ground and started upward again. “Your charm should work for both of us.”
“I hope you’re —” Piper’s words were cut off by the grating sound of breaking metal.
Prue and Piper both twisted in their seat. They pulled themselves to their feet so they were braced between the safety bar and the top edge of the bucket canopy. Standing up and facing backward now, Prue looked up and gasped.
The buckets were attached to the wheel on both sides by couplings that swiveled to keep the seats level as the wheel turned. The outer coupling on Jefferson’s bucket broke as the ride continued to revolve.
Piper’s hands whipped out to cover two directions, freezing the Ferris wheel and everyone watching on the ground below.
Prue quickly assessed the scene. Frozen with his mouth open in terror, the boy was strapped tightly to the car by his seat belt. His hands were clamped on the safety bar.
Jefferson’s seat belt had torn loose. Apparently, he had not been holding onto the safety bar when the coupling broke, and he had already started to slide under it. When Piper’s freeze ended and the wheel started moving again, he would fall through the struts to his death on the pavement seventy feet below.
“I hope you know what to do,” Piper said, “because this hold isn’t going to last much longer.”
“Understood.” Prue breathed in and raised her hands, hoping she had guessed right about what to expect. Once time resumed, the normally horizontal bucket would be hanging vertically by one coupling. She would have only a few seconds to act before the candidate’s dangling bucket was carried over the top. She would not have a clear shot to use her power on the way back down.
When time kicked back in, Paul’s scream cut through the calliope music, the groan of machinery, and the stunned hush that had settled over the crowd.
Jefferson grabbed for the safety bar, his hands flailing as the bucket swung down into a vertical position. Focused on the candidate, Prue caught him with the force of her telekinetic energies and held him in place before he slipped completely under the safety bar.
Still strapped in by his seat belt, Paul clung to the safety bar when gravity shifted his body. The boy was no longer sitting, but hanging by the strap secured around his waist.
Jefferson’s side of the bucket seat had become the bottom when the bucket dropped. The back of the seat and the extension where riders usually rested their feet now formed the sides.
Sweat broke out on Prue’s forehead as she shoved the surprised man onto the new bottom of the upright bucket. She continued to hold him as the wheel sped toward the apex of the wheel’s circular motion.
“Grab onto the damn bar,” Piper muttered.
Prue’s heart thudded in her ears as Jefferson grabbed onto the bar with his righ
t hand, pulled up his left knee, and braced his left foot against the curved, metal foot extension. The boy’s behind now rested on Jefferson’s head. His legs hung down over the man’s shoulders and chest. Jefferson used his free hand to steady the screaming child.
With her power still flowing through outstretched hands, Prue caught the candidate’s eye as the wheel carried him toward the top. Their gazes locked for a few eternal seconds in which Prue willed Jefferson to hang on. She saw his grip tighten on the bar and Paul’s leg before the dangling bucket rounded the apex of the circle and moved Jefferson out of sight and beyond her control.
Ashrill wind whistled through the framework of the wheel as Prue and Piper slipped back into their seat. Prue leaned over the safety bar, holding her breath as she looked down. What used to be Paul’s side of the seat was now the top. It blocked her view except for one of Paul’s legs and Jefferson’s braced foot. As the wheel slowed down and came to a grinding halt, the boy stopped screaming.
“Well, that was interesting,” Piper said. The bucket rocked as she settled back to wait while the bodyguards and a park emergency crew rushed to remove Noel Jefferson and Paul from the swinging bucket underneath.
Prue slumped, then tensed when she heard the whistle of Athulak’s cry sweeping in from above.
“What’s that?” Piper frowned as Prue gripped her hand.
“Hang on.” Prue clung to Piper, relying on the power of the charm in Piper’s pocket to protect both of them from Athulak’s cutting wrath. She realized that they had been so engrossed with saving Jefferson, they hadn’t given any thought as to whether the vengeful wind spirit would be an ongoing threat to them.
As the piercing sound closed in, Prue shut her eyes. Her hair flew wildly in the air churned up by Athulak’s tempestuous approach. A short cry escaped her as a puff of bitter cold caressed her cheek.
Then all was still.
CHAPTER
14
Phoebe had seen everything as she slowly wound her way around the kiddie rides and games toward the Ferris wheel. Once she had regained enough strength to walk, she had not been willing to sit and wait. It would take more than a throbbing headache and stomach cramps to keep her away from her sisters during a crisis. They never knew when the Power of Three might be needed.
Apparently, it hadn’t been needed this time. Phoebe paused as the hanging bucket seat with Noel Jefferson and Paul came to a stop a few feet off the ground.
Wary of getting too close to anyone, Phoebe walked around the edge of the crowd that had gathered to watch the drama unfold. Flashes went off and cameras whirred as the news teams attached to Jefferson used every available second to record the remarkable story. Phoebe grinned, imagining the evening lead on all the news channels.
“Congressional candidate saves himself and boy from death dive.” Every TV report and newspaper would carry a variation of the same theme. It was the top story, Phoebe realized, even though no one would ever know what had really transpired high on the Ferris wheel.
A camera operator bolted from the crowd, hitting Phoebe in the shoulder as he flew by.
“Pardon me!” he yelled, but he kept on running. Trying to beat the competition to the punch, Phoebe thought. Too bad she didn’t have time to tell him there was nothing awful in his immediate future. It had been pure luck that the man hadn’t triggered a vision. To avoid any more encounters, she eased into a clear spot between the entrance and the exit for the ride.
Standing on tiptoe, Phoebe waved at Piper and Prue, but they had their eyes closed and didn’t see her. She wasn’t surprised they were shaken. Standing backward in a swinging Ferris wheel seat seventy feet off the ground would rattle anyone’s nerves, even a witch’s.
As soon as Jefferson was on solid ground and Paul was in his mother’s arms, a maintenance team went to work on the damaged bucket. When the bolts were loosened, they’d drop the bucket and push it aside so the operator could unload the rest of his passengers. It would probably be a few minutes before Piper and Prue could get off.
Several park cops helped Jefferson’s two security guards move the crowd back so the paramedics and the lucky survivors could get out without being crushed in the crowd.
Watching Jefferson’s guards, Phoebe was reminded of just how lucky she had been the night before. She had lain awake worrying that they might not be with their boss when disaster struck, and she had been right. The quirks of fate had worked in her and Noel Jefferson’s favor this time, but relying on secondhand visions was a mistake she would never make again.
When the wheel moved, Phoebe stepped closer so Piper and Prue would see her when they emerged. Jefferson waved off the paramedics as he walked down the entrance ramp, and the woman refused to relinquish her son. The uniformed medics pointed toward their emergency vehicle. Paul’s mom nodded, but she stayed with Jefferson. The boy rested his head on her shoulder with his arms and legs wrapped around her.
The candidate looked shaken, but he was in total control of himself and the situation. The press and the public would eat up the hero angle. Although Noel Jefferson deserved to represent the district on merit, his daring feat on the Ferris wheel had probably just won him the election.
The woman paused when she came abreast of Phoebe. “Hello! I’m so glad you’ve recovered from your little run-in with Paul.” She shifted her right arm to support him and brushed back her hair with her left hand. Then she touched Phoebe’s arm.
Phoebe flinched and braced herself, but the vision she expected didn’t come.
“I was so worried,” the woman went on, “but your sister seemed to know what she was doing.”
“Prue is very competent.” Phoebe smiled, impressed that the woman cared enough to mention the incident, especially since her son had just had such a harrowing experience. It was easy to understand why Jefferson liked her. She’d make the perfect politician’s wife.
Realizing the woman had stopped, Jefferson turned back with a nod and a smile at Phoebe. Every vote counts, Phoebe thought, amused. She was taken by surprise when Jefferson touched her arm. “Lenore told me what happened.”
Phoebe swayed as an image of San Francisco, bathed in sunshine under a blue sky and seen from afar, swept through her mind. It wasn’t like a normal vision or even those that had plagued her since Athulak had granted her wish. It was a precious glimpse of tomorrow, a fleeting gift that erased the horrors she had absorbed from Stephen Tremaine.
And if she was lucky, Phoebe thought, it was the last unusual vision she would have compliments of Athulak. She hadn’t experienced any premonitions when the reporter and Lenore had touched her. Still, that wasn’t proof the wish Athulak had granted had been nullified. She wouldn’t have a vision if nothing awful loomed in Lenore’s and the reporter’s futures, either.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” The ride operator gripped Phoebe’s shoulders and eased her aside so he could get to his controls.
Phoebe’s hopes rose when no images about the ride operator flooded her mind.
“Are you certain you’re okay?” Jefferson asked, frowning. “No bumps on the head or anything?”
“I’ve never felt better, thanks.” Overcome with emotion, Phoebe quickly changed the subject. She couldn’t explain that his survival had prevented San Francisco from being blown off the map in a future that no longer existed — or that her ability to see that future seemed to be back to normal. “How’s Paul doing? That must have been pretty scary up there, huh? But you were so brave.”
Paul smiled shyly.
“He’ll be fine.” The woman hugged the boy a little tighter. “He still wants a doughnut.”
“The VIP tent has really good doughnuts,” Phoebe said. “I had three!”
Paul giggled.
Jefferson gently rubbed the boy’s back. “Can you eat three, Paul?”
“Yep, but I don’t want any more Ferris wheel rides, Uncle Noel.”
“Now, there’s a campaign promise I can make and keep.” Jefferson laughed.
Pho
ebe cocked her head, curious. “Uncle Noel?”
Jefferson nodded and slipped his arm around the woman. “This is my sister, Lenore.”
“Really?” Phoebe nodded, then pointed toward the gate as Piper and Prue dashed through and ran over to join them. “These are my sisters, Piper —”
Piper extended her hand. “Hey, there.”
“Hello, Piper.” Jefferson shook Piper’s hand, but his eyes were on Prue. The electrifying chemistry that crackled between them was tangible. When the mustache and his lean, mean partner stepped forward to intervene, the candidate waved them away.
“— and Prue. Professional photographer, single, and free for the rest of the afternoon.” Phoebe felt like her old mischievous self when Prue flushed with embarrassment, but she didn’t feel bad. Prue was too stuffy to make a move on her own, and Jefferson was obviously hooked. Even better, Phoebe realized. Her headache was fading, and she hardly noticed the gurgle in her stomach.
“Mr. Jefferson, I’m afraid my sister —” Prue hesitated as Jefferson clasped her hand in both of his. “— is, uh, still a bit addled from the heat.”
“You kept me from falling.” Jefferson continued to stare into Prue’s startled eyes.
“No, I —” Prue flashed a wide-eyed glance at Phoebe, but Phoebe was too stunned to respond.
“No, really,” Jefferson said. “I know it sounds strange, but it felt as if you were giving me the will and the strength to hang on.” Aware that everyone was staring at him, Jefferson cleared his throat. “And I, uh, could use some new head shots.”
Prue nodded. “We can probably work something out.”
“We should talk about it over lunch,” Jefferson said. As he led her away with Lenore and Paul, Prue looked back over her shoulder and zinged the two security men bringing up the rear with a smug smile.
Piper watched them for a moment, then turned to Phoebe with a sad, wistful sigh. “Don’t you just love happy endings.”
“Yep, but since Noel is going to be elected, it won’t get too serious. I don’t think Prue wants to move to Washington, D.C.” Phoebe’s eyes widened, and she struggled to keep a straight face when she saw Leo emerge from the crowd behind Piper. He held his finger up to his mouth.
Beware What You Wish Page 13