“You’re sure you didn’t learn it from an old girlfriend?” Prue said, cocking an eyebrow as she dug a handful of pennies out of the jar.
“Positive,” Mitchell said. “Here, I’ll take those.”
As Prue handed the coins to Mitchell, their fingers touched. It was like an electric shock.
“Whoa,” Prue said. Then she clamped her lips shut. Had she actually said that out loud?
“I know,” Mitchell replied, his grin fading and his beautiful eyes going soulful. “I felt that, too.”
“Mitchell,” Prue began, “I ca—”
Mitchell stopped her by placing a finger on her lips. Prue felt another jolt of attraction shimmy through her. And before she knew it, she’d kissed him.
Mitchell cradled her face in his hands and kissed her back, passionately. Prue leaned against the kitchen counter and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her eyes slid closed. Mitchell’s kisses were overwhelming. They wrapped her in warmth. They made her forget everything.
The orange glow coursing through the silvery bubble seemed to have reached its peak. Piper was mesmerized. She couldn’t believe how beautiful the sunset was from this vantage point.
She lost herself in the vivid color and the swirling silvery atmosphere of this womblike place. She thought again about what a magical day she’d had. Then suddenly, a realization broke her reverie.
The orange glow. It was fading. Piper felt panic well up in her throat.
“Prue . . . ’’ she murmured. “Where are you?” The light was growing dimmer with each passing minute.
“Oh no,” Piper said, whirling around in alarm. She saw no portal. No escape from this bubble, which was beginning to feel more claustrophobic with each breath she took.
Piper closed her eyes. Breathe, she told herself. Just breathe. Prue is the most responsible woman on earth, and she’s your big sister. She will not fail you. Sunset isn’t over yet.
Piper felt her panic subsiding. She kept her eyes closed and clasped her hands in front of her, expectant that at any moment, she would feel her body grow lighter and finally shimmer away. Then she’d be zapped back into her nice, cozy kitchen.
Piper breathed deeply, feeling thankful for those yoga techniques Phoebe had taught her a few weeks ago.
But in the back of her mind, a little voice was saying, Forget the yoga! Something’s gone horribly wrong!
Piper released her calming breath in a gust and let her eyes flap open. Her worst fear had been realized. The antechamber was black. The sun had set— minutes ago!
Which meant Piper was trapped in Mount Olympus for twenty-four more hours!
“Prue!” Piper yelled into the abyss. Then she began to sob. “Where are you?”
Prue wrapped her arms more tightly around Mitchell’s slim waist. She kissed him deeply, her eyes clamped shut. Her mind felt blissfully empty of everything except the warmth of those wonderful kisses.
But suddenly, something gave her a jolt. It sounded like a voice, a panicked shout, in fact, in the back of her mind. Prue’s eyes flew open. And what she saw made her gasp. She pulled away from Mitchell’s still-puckered lips with a shriek.
“Oh, my God,” she cried.
“What?” Mitchell gasped. “Prue, are you all right?”
Prue trembled and pointed through the kitchen window. Mitchell whirled around.
“What? I don’t see anything,” he said, puzzled.
Exactly. That was the problem. It was dark out.
Prue had become so immersed in making out with Mitchell that she’d completely forgotten about both of her sisters. She’d missed the sunset. Piper was trapped on Mount Olympus. Which meant Phoebe was still trapped in Hades. Prue had lost them an entire crucial day. She had ruined everything.
Prue was so stunned by this horrible realization that she was almost hyperventilating. She shoved Mitchell away and spun around, clutching the edge of the kitchen counter.
Think, she told herself. There’s got to be some way of fixing this. Think.
“Prue,” Mitchell said behind her, his voice worried and sympathetic. “What is it?”
Prue just shook her head and waved Mitchell away, her back still turned to him.
“I . . . I just remembered something,” she choked out. “You have to leave, Mitchell. I’m sorry, but you have to leave right now.”
“I don’t think so,” Mitchell replied. Prue cocked her head. Had she heard him correctly? Mitchell’s sweet, mellow voice seemed to have become so chilly, so threatening.
“Besides, Prue,” he continued, his voice getting even deeper and colder. “It’s too late. There’s nothing you can do to save your sister now.”
Prue spun around. Then she screamed. Mitchell’s beautiful, chiseled face was contorting. His skin was darkening to a sickly green color. His lips were blackening and curling back to reveal growing fangs— yellow and dripping with saliva. His shoulders were growing broader and sloping downward, splitting the seams of his soft gray T-shirt. He grew taller and taller.
In an instant Mitchell had transformed into a beast more horrible than any of the demons that had invaded Halliwell Manor over the past day. He loomed over Prue, gripping her shoulders with his claws. His breath, hot and acrid, felt like it was burning her face.
Prue squirmed, trying to wrench herself from his grip. Tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes as she tried to wrap her brain around the horrible truth, the truth that Mitchell—or the monster he had become—voiced for her.
“Without the Power of Three, you’ll never be able to save Phoebe,” he grunted. “Your bond has been broken Prue. And all for a kiss. Distracting you was ridiculously easy. My lord Nikos will be so pleased.”
CHAPTER
10
No!” Prue screamed. The monster—who only minutes earlier had been sweet Mitchell, the best kisser on earth—threw back his green, scaly head and laughed.
“Oh, yes,” he said in a thick, guttural bellow. His claws tightened on Prue’s bare shoulders. “You have forsaken your sisters, Prue.”
“Not . . . possible,” Prue wept. “How . . . ’’
“Oh, think about it,” the monster said sarcastically.
Prue did. She remembered the first time she’d met Mitchell at the library. He’d been so charming and he’d . . . he’d handed her the book. The library book on Victorian portraiture. He’d led her straight to the portal to Hades!
Prue shuddered at the realization. Mitchell had volunteered to assist her at the photo shoot. Nikos must have wanted him on hand to back him up if things didn’t go according to plan—if Prue hadn’t done his dirty work by photographing everyone with his cursed camera!
Suddenly, Prue realized something else.
“You were trying to send me to Hades, too,” she spat at Mitchell’s repulsive face. “When you tried to photograph me last night. That’s why you were so insistent.”
“Right again,” the creature said. “How did you get so smart all of a sudden? But when you wouldn’t cooperate by looking into the lens, I had to come here to intercept you in another way. Hope you enjoyed it . . . Prue.”
Mitchell curled his monstrous green face into a smirk and licked his cracked, blackened lips.
Prue screamed with rage. Even though her arms were pinned to her sides by Mitchell’s gruesome claws, she managed to flick her hands toward him. She focused every telekinetic power in her possession on the horrible creature. Her anger helped to propel him, bellowing, across the kitchen. He landed on the kitchen table. The legs splintered and collapsed beneath his weight.
This only enraged Prue more. She was sick of having to replace furniture after demons stormed into the house. This place was falling apart!
“Argh!” Prue screamed, waving her arm at Mitchell again. He flew off the demolished table and crashed into the beadboard wall, making a splintery dent in that, too. Prue shook her head and ran across the kitchen, leaping at Mitchell and crashing the sole of her foot into his jaw.
“Aaaahh
hh!” the creature bellowed. He lashed out with his fist and caught Prue in the cheek, sending a spasm of pain shooting through her face. She sprawled backward onto the floor but quickly sprang to her feet. Mitchell was whirling his tail—his tail!—over his head. It spun so fast, Prue could hear it making a whizzing sound. Then the long spike-tipped limb shot out at Prue as fast as a frog’s tongue. She jumped to avoid it, but the tail caught her ankles, sending more pain jolting into her body. She crashed onto the counter.
Grimacing, Prue realized how badly she needed her sisters right now. With Piper’s power to freeze time and Phoebe’s superior kung fu—not to mention the Power of Three—the sisters together could vanquish just about anything. But, at this moment, all alone, Prue was seriously doubting her ability to conquer monstrous Mitchell.
Clutching her throbbing ankle, Prue scrambled off the counter and crouched behind it, trying to catch her breath.
“Scared, are you?” Mitchell growled, stomping across the kitchen floor. Prue could hear that lethal tail of his whizzing through the air again. She focused on her power and stood up, howling with vengeance. Then she waved her hand at Mitchell’s tail. Her force caught the limb in midswing and wrapped it around Mitchell’s own neck.
The monster gaped with surprise and emitted a sickly, choking noise. Prue zapped him with another wave of telekinesis, pulling his tail tighter. He pawed at the limb with his razor claws, and Prue almost laughed at the grimace of pain that crossed his ghastly features. To save his own neck, he’s going to have to cut off his own tail, Prue thought with satisfaction.
“Who’s scared now . . . Mitchell?” she shouted, waving her arm again. This time the tail pulled Mitchell toward the kitchen door. He stumbled weakly and attempted to flail his claws at Prue. She just cackled and gave him another telekinetic blow. Mitchell’s tail dragged him into the living room. By now his lurid green scales had gone a bit paler and Mitchell’s breath was raspy. He was struggling to stay conscious. Yeah? Good! Prue thought, waving her hand once more.
Then she dashed around the monster to yank back the velvet curtain hiding the heap of models in the sunroom. Mitchell’s tail continued to yank him along, until finally, Prue relented. Mitchell stood before her, swaying and gasping for air. His head swung over his sunken green chest.
“Oh, Mitchell,” Prue called sweetly. She saw his yellow eyes roll up to glance at her. She ducked beneath the black drape on the back of Nikos’s cursed camera and quickly adjusted the lens so the monster was in her frame.
“Say Hades,” she yelled. Then she popped the shutter.
Mitchell threw back his head and roared. As the shutter closed, his bones seemed to turn to rubber and he collapsed under his own massive weight. He fell directly backward, right on top of Nikos’s apparition. With a poof of smoke, Nikos’s beautiful image disappeared. An instant later Mitchell’s horrible specter shimmered away, as well.
Prue ran into the sunroom to make sure Mitchell hadn’t injured any of the sleeping models with his fall. But no, they were all fine.
Prue stood up and took a deep breath. The demon was out of the way. But that had been the easy part. Now she had to figure out how to remedy her horrible mistake.
Prue rushed into the living room and began pacing back and forth. Okay, she thought, surely there’s a way out of this. But how? She knew The Book of Shadows would be no help. After all, it had already given her instructions for spiriting Piper back from Mount Olympus. And she’d flubbed the simple requirement—that she utter the incantation at sunset.
How hard would it have been to do it right? Prue berated herself. After all, she’d been lying around all day, focused on performing one simple task. And then, when the crucial moment came, she’d totally dropped the ball!
Prue stopped pacing. Suddenly she realized Mitchell’s kisses must have carried some sort of spell, some magic that would compel her to forget her responsibilities, indeed, everything. That’s why she’d been so intoxicated by them, why she’d abandoned ship every time she and Mitchell locked lips.
Prue shook her head. Still, that’s no excuse, she raged inwardly. She had messed up bigtime, and Prue Halliwell just didn’t mess up. Especially not when it came to something this big. She had to come up with a solution.
At that thought, Prue’s mind seemed to go completely blank. She was paralyzed by the enormity of this predicament. She didn’t have a clue what to do, and she was all alone. She flopped back into a chair and stared blankly at the grandfather clock, watching its pendulum move back and forth, back and forth, ticking away crucial seconds.
Suddenly, Prue gasped. She leaped to her feet and ran over to the clock. She gave it a little hug and then dashed up the stairs to the attic.
“Of course,” she muttered. “The time travel spell that Phoebe wrote! We’ve used it to go hundreds of years back in time, why not an hour? Now I just have to find where she wrote it down.”
Prue peered into the disheveled cabinet that Phoebe used to store the spells she’d written. Phoebe had also tossed in random potion ingredients and bottles, a journal of demons they’d vanquished, and what’s this—some stuffed animals from Phoebe’s childhood? Prue sighed with frustration and began to sift through the most disorganized Halliwell’s stuff. She began pulling out scraps of paper and even a few napkins scrawled with Phoebe’s handwriting. Prue sifted through the crumpled papers.
“Okay, we’ve got a love spell,” Prue muttered, “an incantation to contact the dead, another love spell, another love spell—Phoebe!”
Prue rolled her eyes and continued to rummage through the scraps of paper. She was just tossing one over her shoulder when she saw that it had something scribbled on its back. She flipped it over and sighed with relief.
“Time travel—backward,” Prue read with a little laugh. “Oh, and here’s time travel forward, too. Better make sure to read the right one.”
She glanced over the lines and stuffed the scrap of paper into her shorts pocket. Then she took a deep breath and began to chant.
“The bond which was not to be done, Give me the power to see it undone, And turn back time to whence it was begun.”
After saying the words for a third time, Prue opened her eyes and looked at her watch. It hadn’t moved! She jumped to her feet and ran to the stained-glass window at the attic’s far wall. It was still dark. Phoebe’s spell had worked before—why not now?
With a sinking feeling, Prue realized why: the Power of Three. She gave a dry laugh. Oh, the irony. She couldn’t save her sisters . . . without her sisters!
Prue clapped a hand to her forehead and looked up at the ceiling. She couldn’t believe it. She felt another tear squeeze out of her eye.
“Oh, Piper,” she moaned. “I’m sorry.”
She let her hand fall to her side. It landed on something soft and fuzzy. She gazed at the floor next to her and saw a worn stuffed puppy. Prue smiled slightly. She remembered that old thing—Phoebe had dragged it with her everywhere when she was a toddler. She’d called it Charles.
Wait a minute! Prue put a finger to her chin. She didn’t have Piper and Phoebe with her, but she did have Charles. What if she could find things that had a true connection to her sisters. Maybe those things would harbor a bit of their spirits—and their powers.
Prue dashed down the attic stairs and into Piper’s room. She looked around, deep in thought. What was Piper’s most precious possession? Suddenly, she snapped her fingers—Grams’s necklace.
Prue ran to Piper’s jewelry box and found the delicate gold necklace and pendant—a Wiccan sun and moon—nestled lovingly in a velvet box. Grams had given it to Piper just before she’d died.
As for Phoebe’s precious object . . . well, she had gone to the trouble of storing Charles in the cabinet of valuable spells and potions. And she’d spent every moment hugging that thing throughout her formative years. Charles was perfect.
Clutching Piper’s necklace, Prue ran back to the attic. She clasped the delicate chain around her neck. She
scooped up Charles and hugged the stuffed animal fiercely. And then she squeezed her eyes shut and recited the incantation again. Once, twice, three times.
Suddenly, Prue felt a gust of wind hit her, sending her hair flying over her head. Just as suddenly, the breeze disappeared. Prue opened her eyes hopefully and twisted around to peek at the attic window.
Shafts of sunlight were spilling through the stained glass. Prue looked at her watch: 6:45. Yes! It was about fifteen minutes before sunset.
Almost sobbing with relief, Prue ran back down the stairs and grabbed the Mount Olympus incantation from the kitchen desk. Then she hurried onto the back porch for a perfect view of the rapidly sinking sun.
Her heart fluttered in her chest as she squinted at the sun. She could see it touching the bottom of the horizon, turning a beautiful flame orange as it did. Prue waited a minute longer until the sun was half submerged.
Now!
With a shaking hand, she squinted at the incantation. “ ‘From the heavens, bring the traveler,’ ” she read. “ ‘As the sun sets, the sky shall no more have her. One day she walked among the clouds. Now cast her from heaven’s benevolent shroud.’ ”
Prue held her breath. And waited.
Then something made her spin around and peer through the window of the kitchen door. Just as she did, she saw Piper shimmer into the kitchen, standing in the exact spot from which she’d left and looking just as she had that morning, in her leggings and sneakers. She was even waving, just as she’d been when she’d shimmered away.
Prue burst into the kitchen, grinning wildly. As Piper became completely corporeal, she shook her head and looked around the kitchen, frowning at the demolished table. Then she looked down at her outfit and gave a little smile. And finally, she glanced up at Prue.
“Piper,” Prue gasped. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“Oh, really,” Piper said accusingly. “Where were you? Sunset came and went without an incantation. But then, um, well, it came again.”
Soul of the Bride Page 11