Disclaimer: I lay no claim to the Characters of Charmed. They belong to the WB. The rest are mine

“Good morning.” Piper called out happily as Phoebe descended the stairs.
“Shove it!” Phoebe told her as she walked past her into the kitchen. Prue glared at her as she made her way to the fridge.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that!”
“What!” Phoebe exclaimed. “It’s not as though she’s gonna remember any of this when the spell wears off. You got lemons… make lemonade.”
“And what exactly do you propose we tell her when the spell does wear off? Hey Piper we know you can’t remember any events from the past 10 days but don’t sweat it you were happy, we were rude to you, Leo tried to manage the club…”
“And you drove us up the wall by singing show tunes.” Phoebe butted in as she heard the strains of ‘Hey Ho the witch is dead’ drifting in from the lounge. She turned to face Prue. “Let me tell you one thing, if you can’t stop her singing soon it won’t just be the Wicked Witch who ends up dead!” She clasped her hands to her head in an effort to block out the sound.
Prue looked at the pained expression on her sister’s face and couldn’t help but smile. She wanted to convince herself that this sort of conversation meant that they were back in some kind of normal state again but she knew that it just wasn’t the case. If they stayed in a room together for any length of time the spectre of their encounter with Matthews would raise its head and they’d be back at each other’s throats.
Prue glanced quickly away from Phoebe, not wanting to catch her eyes and start the day with an argument. Phoebe caught the swift turn of her sister’s head and sighed heavily. Immediately regretting the action as soon as it had happened. She knew that Prue would take it as a sign that she was mad at her.
“How long is this going on for?” Prue wanted to know.
“Don’t start.” Phoebe told her quietly. “You think we can get through one breakfast without going over the same old ground again?” She looked up at her sister and saw that she was pointing towards the lounge. She screwed her eyes shut and wished that she could take the sentence back.
“Prue…” She began hesitantly but Prue had already started to head out of the room. “Prue I’m sorry. Prue? Prue?” There was no response as Prue headed out of the house, the door slamming behind her. A moment later Piper’s head appeared around the doorway.
“You wanna come and sing?”
Phoebe groaned and let her head sink into her hands.


Prue slammed the car door and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. She pushed herself back in the seat, tipping her head back and closing her eyes.
“Dammit.” She told herself. “Dammit, dammit, dammit.” Letting go of the wheel she ran her right hand through her hair, aware of the ache in her arm as she moved it. She rolled her shoulder and tried to ease the pain but it continued to throb. She knew the cause of it but kept the jacket over the brand that marked the top of her arm.
Leo had been trying to get her to talk about what Matthews had done but she steadfastly refused to be drawn on it. It was, she told him, something that she had to deal with. She’d talk to him when she was ready.
With a heavy heart she looked up at the house and put the car into gear. As she rounded the corner at the bottom of the road a small part of her hoped that the days assignment would over-run and she’d be able to avoid her sister altogether.


Leo orbed into the manor and grimaced as he heard Piper proclaiming that it was time to ‘Follow the yellow brick road’. He moved towards the kitchen as he heard plates being slammed into the sink.
“Is it safe to enter?” He asked cautiously. Phoebe turned to face him, her expression changing to one of forced happiness.
“Well I can tell you one thing Dorothy.” She told him dryly. “You’re not in Kansas anymore!”
He took a seat at the table and watched Phoebe as she dropped another plate into the sink.
“How you doing?” he asked her gently.
He watched as her shoulders stiffened. She tried to cover it though as she pretended to concentrate on the plate in her hand.
“I’m fine.”
“Phoebe.” He pushed gently, watching as she scrubbed harder. “You’ll take the pattern off.”
Sighing she dropped the plate into the soap filled water and turned to face him.
“I can’t do this.” She told him. “I can’t go round pretending to Prue that there’s nothing wrong.”
“So talk to her.”
“I can’t.”
“You mad at her?”
Phoebe stared down at her sud covered hands.
“More than you know.”
“You want to talk to me about it?”
“I don’t think I even understand it myself. Not properly.” She dried her hands and pulled a chair out opposite Leo. “I want to forgive her but I don’t know how to go about it.”
“Do you?” Leo asked gently.
“Do I what?”
“Forgive her?”
Phoebe met his gaze and found that she didn’t have an answer for him. They sat in an awkward silence for a moment before Piper’s voice came drifting in from the lounge.
“I’d give anything to swap places with her right now.”
“Really?”
“You kidding? I’d give anything to be in her world right now where my biggest decision was which musical I’d murder next!”
Leo sat back and regarded Phoebe. When she’d returned home three days ago he’d known that something had happened between her and her eldest sister but he was still no closer to finding out exactly what had transpired. He had tried to talk with Prue but she had brought the shutters down straight away and told him no uncertain terms to butt out of her life. He had told her that he knew what Matthews had done to her but she had made him swear that he wouldn’t talk to the others about it. She was dealing with it she’d told him.
“You any closer to finding out what sort of mojo those guys used to put the magical lock-down on the house?”
Leo dragged his thoughts back to the present as Phoebe settled back in her chair. He frowned at the question.
“I’ve spoken to a lot of people and they all say the same thing…”
“Take a shower?”
Leo shot her an annoyed glance and she responded with one of those smiles that tended to blow people away. Whatever was going on in that head of hers she was doing her best to stay above it. She raised her hands, taking back the comment and she waved for him to continue.
“They all say that that sort of spell is impossible.”
“But it happened.” Phoebe pointed out.
“I know. I was stuck here with our resident ray of sunshine.”
“Prue wants to go charging over to The Occultancy all guns blazing and demand to know what Hastings is up to.” Phoebe said resting her chin on her hands.
“To tell you the truth I’m a little surprised that she hasn’t done that already.”
“She was ready to go the day after we got home till I pointed out that Hastings knew where we lived and that it wasn’t fair to Piper if Prue did something whilst she was unaware of the danger and unable to defend herself.”
Leo winced.
“That must has gone down well?”
“Slipped another few places down the Christmas card list. If I keep going at this rate I’ll get the card from the bottom of the box!” She caught Leo’s confused expression. “You know the one with the over-decorated holly wreath that says ‘seasons greetings’. You always know someone’s pissed at you when you get that one!”
Leo looked past the smile that Phoebe had put on for the benefit of the world. The current situation was obviously bothering her more than she was letting on. He only wished that there was some way he could help but he had a funny feeling that this was something that she had to work through herself.


Matthews thumped the steering wheel as the lights changed to red. He had deliberately sat back in the traffic, trying to make sure that his quarry was unaware of his presence. He watched as the car completed the turn and headed off down the street. He knew that there was little chance of being able to catch up with her but he had a fair idea of where she was heading. She was frighteningly predictable in her routine. He was debating the idea of following her anyway when another sight caught his eye. Crossing the junction ahead of him was the Halliwell witch. The lights began to change as she crossed his path and he felt that fate was trying to tell him something. Hastings had told him that she would come to them within days of returning but as yet she had shown no signs of action. Pike and Conal had taken shifts outside the old manor but their reports had revealed little of interest, other than the fact that the eldest was the one sister who didn’t walk the dog! Matthews felt his mouth forming into a smile as he recalled the expression on Hastings face as they made their report. His eyes narrowing as they made their comments about the dog-walking.
He watched as she manoeuvred her car through the busy morning traffic. Following her was too good an opportunity to miss. Hastings had warned him that she was too dangerous to approach, now that she was back to something approaching full health, but he still had a little score to settle with her. She had made him look foolish in front of Hastings and that was something she was going to pay for.

Prue stopped the car and stared out through the windscreen at the building that lay in front of her. She rested her arms on the steering wheel and gazed at the seemingly insignificant shop front across the road. A flickering neon sign told her that she was looking at The Occultancy. The window was dirty and the display was obviously designed by someone with a distinct lack of panache and style.
It looked… Prue searched her mind for the right word… so ordinary. So insignificant and so unobtrusive. Was this the place where the events of the past few days had been orchestrated? She so wanted to climb from the car and storm into the building, to use her powers on the people that she found inside, to seek vengeance on the men that had tried to take her and her sister’s life.
She sat back in her seat and pushed the heels of her palms across her eyes. Taking a deep breath she fought to push down the emotion that was running through her. Seeking vengeance was not something that she should be thinking about. That phrase alone was enough to send a chill down her spine. Seeking personal vengeance wasn’t the answer.
She had driven here for the past three days. Had driven here and sat in the car, looking up at the building. If Hastings was all that Cieran had hinted that he was then she was certain that he knew she was here. A part of her hoped that he was aware of her presence. A part of her wanted him to know that she wasn’t simply going to go away. She was going to be around just waiting for her chance to show him exactly how she was feeling. She was going to show Hastings that the Halliwells were not to be messed with.

Phoebe ruffled the fur around Fiona’s ears and the dog wagged her tail harder.
“You want out huh?” She questioned the dog and was met with an even faster thumping of the tail on the ground. “You and me both.”
She looked around and took in the emptiness of the room. Leo had taken Piper down to P3 in an effort to keep the club ticking over. Although they had only been shut in the house for a relatively short period of time the staff had gotten twitchy over the total lack of communication. There were already rumours that Piper was threatening to sell up. Leo had glared at Phoebe again about the spell that was on Piper and she had simply shrugged her shoulders at him. It had seemed like a good thing at the time. It was just supposed to provide 24 hours of happiness. Ok it had been her fault that she hadn’t realised the spell would last for 240 hours but she could hardly be blamed for not knowing that the spell should never be used on someone who had ingested caffeine. The caffeine apparently was responsible for the singing and the childlike aspects of the spell. Phoebe pulled at the dog’s ears again and sighed. It seemed as though everything she touched turned sour these days. She felt herself slipping into a mood and shook her head. This wasn’t going to happen. She still had her power, it was greatly diminished but it was still there. Silently blaming Prue for the loss of it wasn’t a feeling she wanted to carry around with her but she didn’t know how to go about forgiving her. It had been her selfish actions and dammed desire to be a hero that had gotten them into trouble. Phoebe sank her head in her hands and tried to push the thoughts aside. This was her sister she was talking about. This was one of the two people in the world that she could rely on. This was a person who had lifted up as a child when she cried and had been there in the dark of the night when the demons of her dreams had terrorised her world. But, another voice in her head told her, this was the same person who had fought with her in her teens and caused her flight from the one place she had ever called home. Being witches had bought them together, had it been the only thing that had kept them together?
She shook the thought aside and stared down at Fiona.
“Want to soak up the sunrays?”
The dog scrambled to its feet as she made her way across the room and ran after her, it’s paws skittering on the wooden floor.


Hastings slammed the receiver down onto its cradle, his anger getting the better of him before he remembered who was in the room with him. He let out a nervous laugh and rubbed his hands together as he met the gaze of his client.
“Sorry Mr Dalton my operatives sometimes are a little too keen in their pursuit of their target.”
“They damaged him?” Dalton clasped his hands together in fear as Hastings nodded slowly.
“Just superficial damage I assure you Mr Dalton. Arms are very easy to fix these days.”
Dalton raised his hand, indicating that Hastings should stop. He ran his other hand over his thinning greased back hair and tried to keep the whine out of his voice.
“I did specify that I wanted my specimens to be in mint condition. Damaged goods do not interest me.”
Hastings ground his teeth as he regarded the short, oily looking, man. Hastings hated everything about him. His cheap, stained, white linen suits, his filthy panama that lay draped over one knee and his pre-occupation with collecting pristine examples of species. Whilst Hastings prided himself on delivering undamaged goods he didn’t go anywhere near the anal- retentive standards of Dalton. The only good thing about Dalton was his money and that appeared to be never-ending. It was, he reflected, the only reason he put up with having the slimy man in the building. He plastered a smile he didn’t feel on his face and thought of a way to stop the walking cash dispenser from leaving the premises.
“A while ago you mentioned that you were potentially in the market for a witch. Is that still the case?”
Dalton rubbed his chin and regarded Hastings.
“I heard about the deal you carried out with those gypsies. Not exactly the smoothest transaction you’ve ever presided over.”
“All parties received the goods that they desired and I gained the opportunity to display my latest acquisition.”
“Oh yes?”
“The witch with the telekinesis. She belongs to me.”
Dalton bit back a laugh.
“From what I hear she almost died.”
“She’s stronger than you’d think. And her sister…”
“The one with the second sight?”
Hastings forced a smile again.
“My you have been paying attention.”
“The tale is told by collectors all over town. It was quite a coup that you somehow managed to pull off.”
Hastings spread his hands upon the highly polished surface of the table.
“It was all carefully planned my dear Mr Dalton. Both witches survived and as such both are available for purchase.” He paused and rubbed at an invisible mark on the wood. “It will be easy to obtain either witch this time round.”
“You seem very certain.”
“Divide and conquer Mr Dalton, it may be the oldest trick in the oldest book but it never fails. Learn a little about your quarry and it makes the hunt that much more enjoyable.”
Dalton rubbed his hands together as he imagined adding a witch to his collection. He looked towards Hastings.
“Do they both carry your mark?”
“The eldest bares my mark.”
Dalton clicked his tongue against his teeth.
“That mark does tend to ruin the smooth flow of the skin.” He whined.
“Ahh but,” Hastings countered. “It does show that the individual is of real quality. How else do you prove that your merchandise came from an unimpeachable source?”
Dalton raised his hands in defeat.
“Can you get the witch I decide on to me by the end of the working day?”
Hastings smiled smoothly.
“Consider it done.”
Dalton held out a hand as he made his choice and Hastings tried not to flinch at the oily palm that was thrust in his direction. He grasped the proffered hand and the pair shook on the deal. Hastings’ mind began to race as he tried to work out the best way of getting the witch to him undamaged. They had tried a retrieval squad before and that hadn’t worked. Dropping another poison attack on the house was always an option but it showed a lack of flair to the clients to be caught using the same technique so soon after the last time. He liked to make his clients feel that each retrieval was specifically tailored towards their needs. As he released Dalton’s hand a plan thrust itself forward in his mind and he could do little to prevent the genuine smile that spread across his features. He would enjoy this. Having spent so much of the last few years involved in boardroom decisions with little time spent out in the field, it would be good to experience a little of the action that was to follow.

As Mr French escorted Dalton from the premises, Hastings pressed a button on the intercom unit and told his secretary to call Mr Matthews. As she made the connection Hastings drew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the residue that he always believed Dalton left. Moments later Matthews voice came through on the speaker and Hastings told him exactly what he wanted him to do.

Phoebe dropped the dog lead on the table by the phone and glanced around the house as Fiona bolted for the kitchen in search of water. The place seemed somehow empty without the sound of Piper’s singing. She toyed with the idea of stopping by the club but knew that taking Fiona with her wasn’t an option. Sighing she took another pace across the floor and waited to hear the skittering of paws on wood.
“Fiona?” She called as no sound reached her ears. Senses on the alert she moved towards the kitchen. “Fiona?”
She became aware of the almost oppressive silence that filled the air. A silence that seemed to disguise so much. A voice in her head told her to head out of the house and to get as far away as she could before calling for help. She fought back against the feeling. This was one time she was not gonna go running to Prue with something insubstantial. She was going to face this one on her own terms.
She took another pace forward and strained to hear any sounds from the kitchen. She froze as she was sure she heard someone moving around. She took a pace back and spun silently on her heel, heading towards the door. Rushing in single-handed was perhaps not the wisest move she could ever make. She’d get out to the car and call for Leo.
She tip-toed across the room and silently reached for the door handle. She winced as it resisted her touch. She twisted the handle again and gently tugged the door open.
“My Ms Halliwell you are looking well.” Matthews purred as he stood on the doorstep. “Thinking of running to your sister for help? Afraid that there won’t be time for that.” He pushed her hard, sending her staggering back into the house where Conal and Pike stood ready to grab her.

She struggled against their grasp but to no avail. Matthews closed the door before turning to face her.
“Surprised you didn’t see us coming.” He began. “Oh no wait… You can’t do that so well anymore can you?”
“What do you want?” Phoebe spat at him, trying to keep the edge of fear out of her voice.
“You are going to provide a little service for Mr Hastings.”
“The hell I am.”
Matthews smiled and walked past her into the house.
“You actually think you get to have a say in the matter. How quaint.”

The club was filled with the sound of music and Piper sat back on the front step and watched as small white clouds seemed to chase each other across the heavens. The day was perfect. Every cloud seemed to have a silver lining and everybody she met seemed to have a smile on their face. Her world felt warm and reassuring. A part of her wished that she could feel this way forever. She closed her eyes and let the warmth of the sun wash over her. Everything was going so well at the moment. This was one day that she never wanted to end.

Phoebe tried to free herself from the men’s grasp but they simply tightened their grip on her arms and pulled her closer, she winced in pain. Matthews turned and watched the struggle. He smiled and stepped in close to her. She twisted her head away to try and distance herself from his hot, fetid breath but he grabbed her jaw and forced her to look at him.
“This is just so sad. After everything she went through to try and keep you safe, after all that self sacrifice and heart-wrenching decision making on her part your big sister comes back to find that you’ve been murdered in your own home.” He released his hold on her and walked over to sit on the sofa. He picked up the paper and opened it, appearing to read one of the articles. He finally lowered it and stared over the top at her.
“You fought bravely if that’s any consolation to you. We surprised you as you were sitting here reading.” He suddenly screwed the paper into a ball and climbed to his feet. “You looked around for a weapon.” He picked up a lamp from the table and smashed it on the ground. Phoebe flinched and struggled again. Matthews glanced over at her and smiled.
“You didn’t stop there. You missed with the lamp so you looked elsewhere for weapons.”
He moved over to the mantelpiece. He leant against it and ran the fingers of his right hand over the ornaments that were placed there. He selected a porcelain figurine and held it up to the light, turning it and examining the craftwork.
“You were desperate to buy some time.” He kept his attention firmly fixed on the figurine. “You believed that your sister would arrive at any moment.” He locked eyes with Phoebe and let the figurine slip through his fingers.
She watched with fascination as the figurine seemed to head towards the ground in slow motion. The silence of its fall was shattered as it smashed upon the ground. A harsh sound as the porcelain was fragmented into unrecognisable pieces. Matthews placed a booted foot upon the remnants and crushed them further.
“A frighteningly good analogy for your tenuous grip on life and relationships.” He told her coldly. “Some things that you destroy can be rebuilt and the cracks painted over but some things… some things you can never get back no matter how hard you try.” He glanced over and saw the expression on Phoebe’s face. “Perhaps killing you would make things too neat, provide a nice little ending for a chapter.” He seemed to consider the matter. “Perhaps a little damage, a little suspense would be better, would heighten the senses further.” He smiled again and walked towards her. “Oh yes, I think that’s a much better plan. What will your poor sister think when she comes through the door and finds that her neglect has led to you being taken off God knows where by God knows what. It’s amazing what the mind can imagine when it’s scared enough. Perhaps we should leave her a little clue, a little hint as to who the perpetrators were.” He pulled a set of handcuffs from his jacket pocket and threw them at Conal. “Secure her and then get the tin from the van.”
Phoebe flinched as the cold steel of the cuffs snapped around her wrists. Pike kept his fingers digging into her shoulder and pushed her a pace forward. Matthews moved to stand over her.
“Only polite to leave a clue. Can’t have your sister going all Jessica Fletcher on us without something to start with. A little trail of blood to follow.”
He nodded to Pike who brought the butt of his pistol down on Phoebe’s head.

Prue shifted one package to balance with another on her arm and reached out for the doorknob. She had been feeling guilty all morning about the way that they had parted that morning. She knew that Phoebe had been planning to work on a paper all day and so decided that surprising her with lunch would at least be a step towards reconciliation. She tried to shift the bags and balance them again as she reached again for the door. The balanced package slipped and she swiftly moved her hand back to catch the bag before it dropped. She cursed under her breath and glanced quickly around. Spotting no-one she focused on the door and used her powers to open it.
“Phoebe.” She called out as she stepped over the threshold. “A little help here would be good.” There was no response. She shifted the packages again and used her foot to close the door behind her. “Phoebe.” She took another pace forward and saw the state of the house. The packages fell from her arms and crashed onto the floor, a wine bottle smashing into a thousand fragments, a carton of juice splitting apart on impact and mixing with the eggs that had already been lost, their preservation immediately becoming the furthest thing in her mind. “Phoebe.” The shout was louder this time, desperation plain. “Phoebe.” She stepped around the fallen mess and moved further into the house, her mind struggling to take in what she saw, her whole world was turned upside-down in a matter of moments. She cast an eye around the room and her gaze immediately locked onto the pool of blood that marked the wooden floor like a scar. “PHOEBE!”
She ran across the room towards the kitchen hoping against all hope that she’d find her sister. Rounding the corner she saw the message that had been scrawled on the wall in red. ‘You know where we are. We are waiting.’ She forced herself to touch the red paint, to prove to herself that it wasn’t her sister’s blood. She felt the anger and fear that flowed through her. This was her fault. She had bought this on them by her actions. She had to be the one to put this right. She just hoped that she’d have the strength to do it.

The heavy wooden doors were flung back on their hinges, the power used to open them causing one door to break free from the bracket holding it as it smashed back into the corridor wall. It crashed to the floor but Prue didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were blazing with a barely contained fury as she stormed into the long wood panelled corridor. Startled by the splintering wood the guards took a couple of seconds to react to the intruder but recovering their composure they swiftly bought their weapons to bear. Prue swung her arm back and they were hurled through the air, striking the wall with a considerable force. She spared them only a momentary glance, not breaking her pace, to make sure that they were no longer a threat before returning her attention back down the corridor towards the meeting room at the end. She clenched her fists and tried to reign in some of the emotion that was making her whole body shake. Two more guards appeared from a corridor that branched off to the left and Prue dealt with them without thinking, channelling all her anger in their direction. There was the unmistakable sound of breaking bones as they were thrown against the wall. Finding another figure trying to creep away from her she sent a wave of power after him and expending more force than was necessary caused the delicate frosted glass around the lamps on the walls to shatter into minute pieces as the energy ripped through the air. Tiny fragments of sharp glass rained down upon her but she appeared not to notice the way that it scratched at her exposed skin. She kept her eyes focused on the double doors at the end of the passageway.

She could hear her own breathing loud in her ears, her heart pounding inside her chest. She tried to calm herself, knowing that she was dangerously out of control. She didn’t trust herself to speak yet. Words were somehow inadequate to express the anger that burned away at her.
She kept her pace steady as she approached the doors and narrowed her eyes, trying to focus all her anger in the same direction. She threw her arm forward again and the heavy oak doors flew back on their hinges as if they were made of nothing stronger than plywood.
The air was suddenly full of a flurry of paper as it was thrown into the air by the force of Prue’s power. Hundreds of sheets of paper were lifted from the huge table that dominated the centre of the room and scattered carelessly around.

A hush descended over the group gathered in the room. The only sound to be heard was the fluttering of the paper as it fell gently to earth. Hastings clapped his hands slowly.
“Quite an entrance Ms Halliwell. Tell me, what do you do for an encore?” He glanced around the table at the suited men and women who sat in stunned silence. “If you’ll excuse me ladies and gentlemen I have the feeling that my visitor is not prepared to wait for an appointment to become available. I will reconvene this meeting at the next available opportunity.” He rose to his feet and bowed to the assembled group. Slowly the members pushed back their chairs and got to their feet. “Please, please.” He reassured them. “Everything is fine. I will call you all within a day or so.” He gestured towards a guard at the back of the room. “Mr Michaels, can you show these good people out.”

As the door closed behind them Hastings moved to stand behind his chair and leant forward, resting his arms on the back of the chair.
“Not that I don’t appreciate your delightful company Ms Halliwell, but would you mind telling me what is so very important that you have to come bursting in here like some out of control tornado intent on destroying the habitat of a small remote pacific island community?”
“You bastard.” Prue hissed. “You know exactly why I’m here. What have you done to her?”
Hastings clasped a hand to his heart and looked at her, his face a mask of hurt.
“Me Ms Halliwell? I have done nothing that I wouldn’t feel happy confessing in church this coming Sunday. I think you are confusing me with someone else.”
“Cut the crap. I want the animal that’s hurt my sister and I want him here now.”
“You seem to have a very high opinion of your right to demand things from me.” Hastings noted calmly. “I suggest that it’s an attitude you learn to reign in.”
Prue stepped up to the far end of the table and placed her palms flat on its highly polished surface.
“You give me what I want and everyone gets to leave here in one piece.”
“If I’m not mistaken that sounds very much like a threat to me.” He motioned to his guards who had begun to reach for their weapons. “Gentlemen, gentlemen. There is no need to resort to violence. I’m sure Ms Halliwell and myself will be able to reach a perfectly amicable arrangement. After all this is simply business.” He turned back to face her. “Remember where you are Ms Halliwell, this is my turf. What I say goes. You want to leave here at all then I suggest that you take a seat and we discus this like rational people.” Hastings voice was like ice.
“Now if I’m not mistaken Mr Hastings that sounds very much to me like a threat”
Hastings motioned to one of the men standing behind Prue and he dutifully bought forward a chair. Prue waved him away.
“I’ve not come here for a long discussion. You give me my sister back and I’ll be gone, out of here and out of your life.”
Hastings smiled and pulled his chair back, sitting himself at the head of the table. He leant forward, his elbows resting on the oak, his fingers steepled. He glanced at her over the top of his fingers.
“You think it’s that easy to walk away from me? You think you can say when this starts and when this ends? You have a lot to learn Ms Halliwell. I am wiser, I am smarter and I am in charge here. You want your sister back then there is a price that must be paid.”
Prue bit back the words that came to her. Hastings noted the action.
“It appears you are learning some of the rules of the game at last. I paid Mr Matthews handsomely to deliver your sister to the client. He failed at the first attempt thanks to your ‘oh so heroic’ actions and so he has simply tried to make amends. He has expended time and money in the venture and I expect something back for the outlay. You want your sister to walk free then I want some payment in return. A transaction of equal value. After all business is business Ms Halliwell.”
“Business.” Prue spat the word out. “You call your trade in human lives business?”
“All life is a profitable commodity Ms Halliwell, demon and human.”
“Your so called business disgusts me ‘Mr’ Hastings.”
Hastings smiled and leant back in his chair. He pulled a cigar from his pocket and rolled it between his fingers.
“To be brutally honest with you Ms Halliwell I care very little for your opinion but, as you say, we have a deal to strike so lets dispense with the petty posturing and cut straight to the chase. You have something I want and I have something you want.”
Prue raised a hand to interrupt him.
“Before we go any further I want to see my sister.” She narrowed her eyes. “She’d better be fine Hastings or…”
“Yes, yes, yes.” Hastings cut across her. “If you’ve hurt my sister blah blah blah. Spare me the speechifying Ms Halliwell I’ve heard better from better.” Hastings reached into his pocket and retrieving a small silver object, trimmed the end of his cigar. One of his guards moved forward and struck a match for him. He puffed on the cigar and drew in a deep breath as it finally caught. He stared at her through the pall of smoke that now hung between them. “Walking in here was potentially suicidal. You do know that don’t you?”
“Spare me the melodramatics Hastings. I want my sister.”
He laughed. A deep, honest laugh that made Prue feel somewhat uneasy. Her temper was finally beginning to dissipate and she slowly started to take in the number of guards that lined the walls. She was surrounded by at least half a dozen of them, all armed to the teeth and all loyal to Hastings. If he gave the word they wouldn’t hesitate to open fire. He’d make sure that they were taken care of and her disappearance would never be fully investigated by the cops. There’d be no body and no suspect. She swallowed hard and kept her gaze fixed firmly on Hastings. Now was not the time for second thoughts. She reminded herself of the state that the house had been in when she’d arrived home and she quickly found that her resolve returned. If anyone had laid a hand on her sister she’d see that they paid for it.

Hastings watched the witch as she stood at the far end of the table. He could almost taste the anger that radiated off of her. When she’d burst into the room he knew why his client had made the demands that he had. If he’d seen her first, he’d have realised her value. He knew the power that the three of them wielded and together they would make a powerful adversary, but alone she was merely one angry witch and he’d dealt with far more than that in the last ten years. Business was business though and a deal was a deal. He wished that he could, just this once, break the rules that he’d lived his whole life by.
He snapped his fingers at French and indicated that he should fetch Matthews and the younger witch. French came slovenly to attention and stomped off out of the room. Hastings shook his head sadly as he watched the man leave. He looked back towards the witch and found her eyes still fixed on him.
“There’s an opening in my ranks after this transaction. I’m sorely tempted to offer it to you or your sister. The fire you have is sadly lacking in this day and age of sullen henchmen.” He raised a hand as he saw her draw an angry breath. “Don’t waste your precious invective on me Ms Halliwell. Save it for a rainy day.”
He smiled inwardly as he saw her blue eyes blaze with heightened fury.

Prue’s heart went out to her sister as she saw her bought into the room. She was supported between Pike and Conal. There was a large dark bruise forming on the side of her face but aside from that she appeared to be unharmed. She was dwarfed by the two men and her frailty in comparison to the men only served to fuel Prue’s anger. She spied Matthews walking out behind his men and, acting on pure instinct alone, used her power to throw him against the wall. She felt hands grab her arms moments later and did nothing to struggle against them, her eyes fixed firmly on Matthews as he crashed into a bookcase. He fell heavily to the floor, books raining down on him as he struggled to work out just what had hit him.
Hastings struggled to contain his amusement at the sight.
“I thought we had an agreement Ms Halliwell. Whilst we are undertaking a business transaction all use of magic or firearms is verboten.”
Prue’s eyes stayed fixed on Matthews as he scrambled back to his feet again. He pulled his jacket straight and threw a look of pure hatred in Prue’s direction.
“Oh believe me.” She taunted him, using the words he had once spat at her. “The feeling is mutual.”
Matthews growled and rushed towards Prue. She narrowed her eyes as he moved closer, holding back until he was just short of hitting her. She then hit him with her power again and sent him back amongst the pile of books. She turned her head to meet Hastings glare as his guards tightened their grip on her arms. “Self defence.” She told him smoothly.

“Enough, enough.” He told them both. “We all know why we’re here. Let’s get this done. I’m a busy man.”
“My demands are simple enough.” Prue told him. “I want that animal to free my sister.”
She risked another glance at Phoebe. She didn’t want to appear weak in the eyes of the assembled group by seeming to look worried about her sister’s state but there was a voice that spoke from her heart, hammering at her head, telling her that she needed to make sure that Phoebe was ok, that she hadn’t been hurt by Hastings men. She saw the fear that was written across her younger sisters face and sought some way to reassure her. Their eyes met and Prue was confused by the anger that she read there, buried beneath the surface.
She pulled against the grip of the men that held her arms.
“Do you mind?” The question was directed towards Hastings and he waved his men back to their posts by the door. Prue made a point of straightening her clothes and smoothing out the creases. “You said that I had something you wanted. Time to talk Mr Hastings. Time to get this thing sorted out once and for all then I can put your unpleasant face behind me.”
“Oh Ms Halliwell.” Hastings tone was dripping with mock hurt and sarcasm. “How deeply your petty words wound the soul. How am I ever going to get over your low opinion of me!”
He indicated the chairs. “Take a seat and let us finalise the deal. Mr Matthews this concerns you as well.”
Prue turned her head as she heard Phoebe cry out. The two men holding her were making to move her back to the outer office.
“She stays. My sister stays within my view at all times or there is no deal.”
“Oh very well.” Hastings took another contemplative puff on his cigar. “As I’ve tried to tell you I want something of equal value for the safe return of your sister.”
“How much?” Prue asked calmly.
Hastings looked offended.
“Money? You think I want money.”
“That is the usual arrangement.”
“This is not a usual arrangement. Money doesn’t interest me in this case Ms Halliwell. I have a client who is after something very specific and you are in a position to make that deal a reality. He is a well respected man and a deal with him is worth more than a thousand lesser deals.”
“So tell me what it is you want.”
“You.”

“No deal.”
“Come now Ms Halliwell. A life for a life it’s a perfectly fair deal.” Hastings kept his attention fixed firmly on his cigar as he tapped the loose ash into an ornate ashtray. “From what I hear you are the overprotective sort of elder sibling. I believe Mr Matthews here will back me on this.”
Matthews smiled at the discomfort on Prue’s face.
“Oh She’d do just about anything for her sisters. She’d die for them, she’d sell her soul for them.”
Hastings swung round to face Matthews.
“Is that just an expression or do you really mean that? If you mean it then I think I’ve just made a bad deal!”
“She’d do it.”
“She’s still here.” Prue pointed out. “I’m not a commodity to be bought and sold, neither is my sister. Offer me a deal that’s reasonable and we’ll talk about it.”
“Stop stalling Ms Halliwell.” He tapped his cigar against the ashtray again. “Why don’t you do what you intended to do from the start.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Oh come now Ms Halliwell I’m not a bumbling idiot like Mr Matthews here.” He bowed his head towards the man. “No offence Mr Matthews. Why don’t you just call your Whitelighter in here like you planned and he can… What’s the word those Whitelighters love to use?” He paused and then clicked his fingers. “Orb. That’s it. Why doesn’t your pet Whitelighter make his scheduled appearance and orb your sister to safety?”
Prue stared at him at a loss for words. Hastings wafted the smoke away from in front of him.
“Oh come now Ms Halliwell did you think that I wouldn’t work out your plan? You come in here all guns blazing and try and make a deal. It doesn’t go the way you want it to so you call in…” he snapped his fingers. “What’s the guy with wings called?”
“Gabriel?” Matthews suggested helpfully. Hastings waved for him to be silent.
“Leo.” One of the guards supplied. Hastings clicked his fingers and grinned at the man.
“That’s it. Leo. You call in Leo and he orbs in with your other sister who freezes the room and enables you to all run away into the sunset, another mission accomplished without even breaking a nail.”
Hastings rose to his feet and moved down the table. He perched on the edge, a short distance from where Prue sat.
“That was the plan, wasn’t it Ms Halliwell?”
“So you’ve done your homework.”
Prue fought to keep the quaver out of her voice. Hastings was one step ahead of her all the way. He had taken Phoebe and trashed the house because he knew exactly how she’d react. He’d guessed, almost to the last detail, the plan she’d concocted with Leo whilst in the car on the way to Hastings’ building. She folded her arms and met Hastings gaze.
“You seem to have this all worked out Mr Hastings. So why don’t you tell me what happens now?”
He smiled again and reached forward to place a hand on her shoulder. She raised her hand and was about to use her powers on him when his calm voice reminded her that Phoebe was under his control. One wrong move from her and Phoebe would be the one to suffer.
“Prue.”
Phoebe’s voice broke the silence that had descended on the room.
“Keep her quiet.” Hastings hissed at Pike and Conal, his attention still firmly fixed on Prue.
Prue heard Phoebe’s muffled cry but kept her eyes locked with Hastings.
“Your move Ms Halliwell. Call your Whitelighter in and he can take your sister home. You try and use your other sisters’ magic to get you out of here and I can assure you that your life will become a living hell. You already know that we know where you live. My associates and I also know where you work and where you hang out. You try and cross me and little accidents will start to befall everyone around you. We have no qualms about who we hurt and even you can’t guard every one you know twenty-four seven. Call your Whitelighter Ms Halliwell.”
Prue stared at the man and knew that there was nothing she could do to get out of the situation.
Hastings reached into his jacket pocket and smoothly drew out a solid gold pen. He unscrewed the cap and offered it to her.
“Sign.” He instructed her. He flipped open a file that sat on the desk and revealed a sheaf of documents. He saw the confusion on her face. “A contract I drew up in anticipation of your little visit. It details your agreement to give yourself over to my ownership in return for your sisters’ freedom and my promise that I will do nothing further to harm your family. I think you’ll find that everything is in order and that it’s a fair and reasonable deal. All the I’s have been dotted and the T’s crossed.”
He waved the pen under her nose and she smacked it out of his hand her eyes blazing with fury.
“You do not own me.”
Hastings looked at where the pen had fallen and then back at Prue.
“You are beginning to try my patience. I have been more than fair and now I am starting to think that I will have to use another approach. I so hate it when things can’t be settled in a calm and civilised manner.”
He snapped his fingers and Prue cried out as she was grabbed by two of Hastings’s guards. They pulled her from the chair and forced her arms behind her back. She saw two of the armed guard level their weapons towards Phoebe. Hastings nodded to Matthews.
“Show her.”
Matthews long strides bought him to her side in seconds. Prue prepared for the blow that she was sure was coming. Matthews grabbed her shoulder and tore at the sleeve of her blouse, ripping the material to reveal the brand on her arm.
“He owns you.” Matthews told her, his face only centimetres from her. “He owns you and the sooner you realise it the better.”
“It’s more than just a simple mark of ownership.” Hastings held the gold pen in his hand again and was standing over the documents. “But it’s accepted worldwide. Whilst you have that on your arm I can send any number of people after you. There will be queues a mile long of Bounty-hunters wanting to collect the reward for bringing back something of mine. I can kill your sister and take you anyway but I’d rather keep things fair. Reconsider your options Ms Halliwell. Sign the forms and we all get what we want.”
Prue stared at the golden pen as Hastings offered it out towards her.


“Leo.” Prue called out calmly. Hastings smiled at her and indicated that his men should bring her over to the table. They ushered her towards Hastings and he held out the pen. Prue shook her arms free and stared into Hastings face.
“Save your words Ms Halliwell and just concede this round.” He told her softly.
She let her eyes drop to the half dozen sheets of paper that were contained within the file.
“Just sign Ms Halliwell. I can assure you that everything is in order.”
Prue raised her eyes again to meet his and slowly took the pen from his grasp. It felt heavy in her hand and she turned her head slightly to catch sight of Phoebe. Two of Hastings men were still keeping her under armed guard.
“I have your assurance that nothing will happen to my family?” she asked him quietly.
“It’s all there in black and white.” He assured her smoothly. “Once that document is signed I will no longer have any interest in any member of your family.” Hastings looked around the room and then consulted his pocket watch. “Is your Whitelighter usually this tardy?”
“He’s practically tardiness incarnate.” She sneered back at him.
Hastings muttered something under his breath and returned his watch to his waistcoat pocket. His attention was firmly fixed on the gold pen as Prue bent to sign the documents. He smiled in anticipation of a job well done when on the periphery of his vision he caught sight of a glimmer of blue.
“Ah the Whitelighter arrives.”
He clicked his fingers the moment that Prue had finished signing the document and his men grabbed her arms again, pulling her away from the table. Matthews positioned himself in front of her, his glock pressed against the side of her face.
“You try anything clever and who knows how many people will have to pay.” He ran the cold barrel of the gun down the side of her face and under her chin, coming to rest at the base of her throat. He pushed the muzzle into the hollow and smiled at the discomfort on Prue’s face.
He winked at her and stepped away.
Hastings took his place at the head of the table and looked at the way the room was set up. The two sisters stood either side of him. He saw the blue light begin to fade, leaving the Whitelighter standing there with another witch who was unmistakeably the third sister.
“Mr Wyatt.” He acknowledged the man. “There has been a slight change of plan.”
Leo took in the scene in a second and knew that things were not going to go according to plan. He tightened his grip on Piper’s hand.
“The witch is not to use her powers.” Hastings told him. “She does and Ms Halliwell here,” he nodded towards Prue. “has been fully apprised of the consequences.”
Leo looked at Prue and saw the defeat and resignation in her eyes.
“We tried Leo.” She told him. “We tried but it wasn’t enough.”
He watched her carefully looking for some sort of sign that would indicate that she had some plan. She shook her head at his searching gaze.
“Ms Halliwell and I have struck a deal. She is now my property and as such will remain here. The other Ms Halliwell I am pleased to report can now be returned to your care.” Hastings snapped his fingers and the two guards holding Phoebe released their grip on her and pushed her towards Leo.
“Hey honey.” Piper smiled at her and waggled her fingers.
Hastings raised his eyebrows in astonishment at the happy countenance of the third sister but thought it best not to say anything.
He turned his attention to the youngest sister, certain that she would not go quietly. He hoped that Matthews and his men would be wise to the girl’s mood.
Sure enough, as the girl regained her balance she made a move towards the guards holding her sister.
Matthews calmly took a step forward and placed the barrel of his gun against the side of the eldest’s face. He cocked the weapon and pushed in harder against her temple. He turned to face the youngest.
“Now go and join the others and go home like a good little girl. This party is over.”
He watched as she fumed in anger, seemingly so full of emotion that she couldn’t find an adequate way of expressing it.
“Prue you can’t let them do this.” She yelled. “You can’t just give in like this.”
He kept the gun pressed tight against her temple and felt the muscles controlling her jaw tighten as she struggled to remain calm.
“It is done Phoebe. Do what Mr Hastings says.”
“Prue, no.” Phoebe’s voice was wild with anger. “You do not have the right to do this.”
Hastings could see that things were about to get out of control. One of the things he could well live without was hysterical women. He nodded towards Matthews.
“Get your men to escort our visitors from the building Mr Matthews. If they refuse to go then use force if necessary but do not be excessive. And if they do put up a fight pay a visit to…” He paused and considered his options. “The college campus. You know the classes the youngest attends. Kill two of her friends.”
“Sir.” Matthews drew the gun away from Prue’s head and pointed it towards Phoebe. “If the three of you will follow me.”
Leo reached out and placed his hand on Phoebe’s shoulder. He could feel the raw emotion that was flowing through her. She stiffened at his touch and pulled away.
“Phoebe.” He warned her, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible.
“I know.” She snapped. “I try anything and the pig gets two of my friends killed.”
“Let’s go.” Matthews instructed them and indicated that they should head for the double doors. Leo watched Phoebe as she stiffly walked at the head of the party. She did not turn her head as she left the room but kept her gaze fixed firmly ahead.
“See you later.” He heard Prue whisper softly and turned his head to take one last look at her defeated face. He wanted to smile a reassuring smile at her but he just didn’t think that she’d believe him.
“See you Prue.” He whispered in return.
They were almost clear of the doors when Piper spun round.
“Thanks for having us.” She beamed at Hastings. “It’s been quite a trip.”

Prue watched as the door closed behind Matthews. She felt as though part of her heart were being torn from her as she watched them leave the room. She didn’t see what other option had been open to her though. Hastings had obviously planned the whole encounter and been at least one step ahead of her the entire way. When she closed her eyes she saw the look that had been on Phoebe’s face. She read the anger that she had so obviously displayed. Beyond the surface expressions she had read other emotions, emotions that she wished she hadn’t seen. She saw the disappointment in her sister’s eyes. She read the emotion that her sister had failed to fully disguise. Phoebe believed that she’d been let down. Prue felt her heart sink further. She hadn’t known what else to do. She’d been backed into a corner and reacted in the only way she knew. She had to protect her sisters, whatever the cost. This didn’t compare to their first encounter with Hastings men. Then she’d made a decision without considering what the outcome might cause her sister to feel. She’d listened to her sister after that, had listened carefully to her words, had vowed to try and change the way she did things but there had been no decision to make in this case. Hastings had made certain of that.

Hastings smiled as he studied the traumatised face of the witch. He had to secure her and soon. Although she’d seemed to realise that he had the upper hand he couldn’t be certain that she wouldn’t try something foolish. He’d warned his men to be vigilant whilst dealing with her but he didn’t really believe that they’d taken his words seriously. Most of them had never seen at first hand what the witch was capable of. He nodded towards French and was pleased to see that the man had bought the sedative with him as ordered. He needed to make sure that the witch didn’t realise what he was up to. He moved to stand in front of her.
“Save it.” She hissed at him.
“You’re breaking my heart.” He told her gently. “Now don’t forget the details of our deal. One false move from you and…” He broke off as French moved in behind Prue and drove the needle into her arm. He watched as she struggled against the effects of the drug, her pupil’s dilating as she began to lose focus. He grabbed her chin and raised her lolling head to meet his. “I’m sorry, did I forget to tell you about this part? It was all in the contract. You really should learn to read the small print.”
As her eyes began to close he released his hold on her and watched as her head sank forward onto her chest.


“Where the hell did she get that mark on her arm?” Phoebe demanded to know. She rounded on Leo who was sitting on the couch trying to pry Piper’s arm from his. He shrugged his shoulders as best he could but Phoebe wasn’t buying it.
The journey back from The Occultancy had been in complete and stunned silence. Phoebe had climbed behind the wheel of the car, informing Leo that if he wanted a lift he’d better get in quick. He had followed her instructions and then looked for a way to start a conversation with her. Every time he opened his mouth to speak she had shot him a look that told him to forget it; told him that she was in no mood to discus the situation. He had finally given in to her demand for silence and the atmosphere in the car had steadily built until it reached straining point.
“You gonna try and tell me that you didn’t know about it?” Phoebe yelled at him. “Piper breaks a nail and you arrive in a flash. Are you seriously expecting me to believe that you didn’t notice the agony Prue must have felt when Hastings men did that to her?”
“She didn’t want you guys to know. She didn’t want to worry you.” Leo replied quietly.
“She didn’t want us to worry?” Phoebe’s voice was high with indignation. “She didn’t trust us more like. It’s just like that stunt she pulled with the poison. She knew something like this was going to happen and yet she kept us out of it.”
“What would you have her do Phoebe?”
Phoebe held his gaze for a moment before turning away and stalking towards the stairs.
“She didn’t know what else to do.” Leo called after her. “She wanted to keep you safe.”
Phoebe appeared not to hear him as she headed up the stairs.

Leo’s words were ringing in her ears as she slammed the door to the room. She cast her eyes around it, taking in in a flash all the times that she had come running here in her moments of terror or distress as a child. She pulled the pillow from its place and sat on the bed with her back against the wall and her knees drawn up to her chest, the pillow clutched within her grasp. She fought against the tears that threatened to flow. Now wasn’t the time to let her emotions get the better of her. She sat on her sister’s bed and tried to work out what the hell she was going to do next.

Leo heard the call from above and knew that he had to answer. There was no way that the elders could have missed the events of the last few hours. Prue’s hollow gaze still filled his mind when he closed his eyes. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her looking so defeated before. Hastings had certainly planned things well. He tried to tell the elders that now wasn’t the right time to leave the sisters alone but his bosses were insistent and with great reluctance he pulled himself away from Piper and orbed out of the manor.

An hour later Phoebe dragged herself away from her sister’s room and descended the stairs. The living room was still in the same mess it had been upon her arrival home. She gazed round at it and the violence that it suggested, the smashed figurine and the disarray of the furniture.
Her eyes settled upon the mess just inside the door that had recently been Prue’s carefully selected reconciliation shopping. Without looking she could almost guess item for item the things that her sister would have picked up in an effort to close the gulf that had recently appeared between the two of them. Not wanting to be the one to actually say that she was sorry but willing to offer out the hint of an olive branch to see how it would be received.
How must she have felt when she walked through the door and seen the state of the room?
Phoebe pushed her fingers through her hair and walked slowly towards the glass of juice that sat untouched on the table. She lifted it and took a small sip from it, the feeling of complete numbness that she had felt slowly giving way to another emotion.
She felt the frustration rise within her, felt her own helplessness overwhelm her. She stared at the glass in her hand for a moment before throwing it as hard as she could against the wall. She watched as it smashed into the paintwork, the juice staining the wall as it ran down it in streaks. The glass fragments scattering across the floor. She heard Piper run in from the kitchen.
“You alright Sweetie? What happened?”
“Why did she do it?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Prue. Why the hell did she just give in?” She asked hollowly as she stared at her sister, scanning her face, desperately looking for an answer that she knew she wouldn’t get



Phoebe glanced across the table at Piper as she read. Her face seemed relaxed as if all the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. Phoebe thought that she would give anything to see the angry features she had faced in this kitchen only a few days ago. She raised her head towards the ceiling.
“If this was some kind of lesson then consider me as having passed the class with distinction.”
“Hmmm?” Piper looked up from her book, an inquisitive expression plain on her face. Phoebe sighed heavily and rubbed the back of her hand.
“It’s nothing Pipe. It’s nothing.” She raised her coffee mug to her lips and tried to think what to do next. This wasn’t the first time that Prue had been taken from them but it was the first time that the enemy seemed to be one step ahead of them, always seeming to know what they would do one jump before they did. When Matthews had come to the house he had been so sure that Prue would know to go to The Occultancy building ready to knock the place to the ground to get her back. She took another sip of coffee and willed Leo back into the room. He’d not responded to any of her calls. She’d even considered getting Piper to call but then rethought the plan. He’d spent the best part of the last few days listening to her singing, if there was one place Leo didn’t want to be right now Phoebe reckoned it was by Piper’s side.
She took a deep breath and was about to let it out in a heavy sigh when Fiona beat her to it. The dog placed her head on Phoebe’s knee and looked up at her with her sorrowful brown eyes.
“There’s no time to go chasing rabbits.” Phoebe told her softly, placing her mug on the table and reaching down to pet the dog. As she stroked the dog’s head a thought sprang to her mind. She pushed her chair back and rose to her feet. Piper jumped at the suddenness of the action.
“We going somewhere?”
“We’re not. I am.” She looked down at the dog. “You’re with me though.” She moved through the house and grabbed the car keys as she headed for the front door. As she pulled the door open she looked down at the dog. “You ready for this?”


She pulled the car to a halt and stared out through the windscreen at the setting sun. The trees were in half-darkness but she could just about make out the buildings through the gap. She felt her pulse quicken as she remembered what had happened to her the last time she had been here. Fiona let out a yelp, reminding Phoebe that she was in the back of the car. She could smell the fresh air and wanted nothing more than to be given her head and be allowed to run through the undergrowth. Phoebe tried to ignore the dog and concentrate on the path that led out to the car park. Cieran had sounded somewhat surprised when she called him. She hadn’t wanted to explain what was going on over the phone but she did tell him that what she wanted to talk to him about was very important. He had agreed almost immediately to the meeting and so now she sat here in the car almost too scared to face the place where she had been stripped of most of her strength.

She remembered the stares from Bevan and his friends as she walked into his tent that day. It had obviously taken all his self-control to remain civil to her. He placed a small glass in front of her and instructed her that she should drink the contents. She wanted to protest that she knew nothing about the contents of the glass but something in the men’s expressions told her that now was not the time to indulge in conversation. She had faced Bevan and told him in no uncertain terms that she was only doing this as a repayment for his help in saving her sister’s life. The sneering reply told her that he didn’t want to be reminded of that act and that he was only leaving her alive because she was making the offer voluntarily. She avoided making eye contact with him and, before her courage left her, lifted the glass to her lips and downed the warm liquid. It had burned her throat as she swallowed it and moments later she had felt as though she were slipping away from her body. Hands had grabbed at her and she began to instinctively struggle against them. After that a dark cloud had descended and she could remember nothing.

Waking up again later it felt as though a part of her very being had been cut away.
She had yet to receive a premonition since the event and a large part of her lived in mortal fear of the event. What if it was nothing like the premonitions she had been used to in the past? What if she could no longer get any sort of feeling from them? She tried to push the thought from her mind. She had certainly lost the extension of her power that she had recently discovered. She was no longer able to pick up on the moods of people and get an impression of how they were feeling.
A second, more urgent yelp from Fiona brought her attention smartly back to the present time. She peered through the windscreen again and recognised Cieran as he came down the path toward her. She climbed from the car and sketched a nervous wave in his direction. Fiona bolted past her and ran towards him, her tail wagging. He stopped and knelt down, making a fuss of the dog forcing Phoebe to walk towards him.
“Hey.” She said quietly.
“Hey.” He responded looking up at her. He saw the expression on her face and pushed Fiona away. “What’s up?”
“Can we walk a little further from here before I tell you?”
“Sure.” He let go of Fiona’s collar and pointed towards the quiet woodland trail. Phoebe fell into step beside him as he began to walk. Fiona bounded along ahead of them.

Phoebe finally finished her tale and turned her head to try and gauge Cieran’s reaction.
“I told her to be careful of Hastings.”
Phoebe’s tone was incredulous.
“Is that all you can say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“That you’re angry, that you’re pissed at Hastings and that you want to help me.”
“Ok.” Cieran said coldly. “I’m angry, I’m pissed at Hastings and I want to help you. Satisfied?”
“Cieran. I need your help.” Phoebe’s tone was desperate, her voice strained with emotion.
“Why? You don’t even want her back.”
Phoebe was nearly beside herself.
“How can you say that? She’s my sister.”
He tilted his head.
“And is that why you want her back?”
“I love her Cieran and I want her back.”
“In spite of what she’s done?”
“Screw what she’s done, she’s a part of me and I don’t think I can go on without her in my life.” Phoebe was losing the fight to keep control of her emotions. “Damn her and her stupid principles. She signed her life away Cieran. She signed her damn life away and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Not a damn thing.” Tears began to cascade down her cheeks as she finally gave in to the anger and the fear that she was feeling. Cieran placed his hands on her shoulders and she shook them off angrily.
“Leave me alone.” She shouted angrily at him. He ignored her protests and pulled her into an embrace..
“I’m sorry.” He soothed her. “I’m sorry. If we’re going to take on Hastings I need to know that you’re in it for the long haul. I can’t afford to have you losing it part way through. You’re no good to me if you’re going to bottle all your emotion up inside.”
“You say ‘better out than in’ and I’ll kick your shins.” She sniffed.
He kept his arms tight around her.
“I know my application of psychology stinks. I’m sorry Phoebs.”
She sniffed one last time and pulled away, wiping at her eyes.
“So you’ll help?”
He looked into her eyes.
“You really have to ask?”
“Thanks.”
“So where do we start?”

Dalton allowed a smile to spread across his features as he read the card from Hastings. The witch would be delivered to him within the hour. Hastings apologised for the delay but he stressed that this was due to unforeseen circumstances.
Dalton folded the card in half and dismissed the guard who had delivered it to him. He ran his fingers over the curved glass of the case and stared into the empty space behind it. Within a matter of hours the case would be filled and he’d have another priceless addition to his collection. Reluctantly he drew his hand away from the glass and wiped the surface clean with a handkerchief. His collection had, to his knowledge, no rival and was steadily growing to a size where he could rightfully name himself as the greatest collector of occult specimens in the world. He turned away from the case and glanced down the long rows of identical glass cases that filled the room. The one he stood in front of being the only one yet to have an occupant




“The buyer’s name is Dalton.” Cieran announced as he came in through the front door. Phoebe looked up from her laptop as she heard Cieran’s voice.
“Were you a recurring character in a sitcom in a previous life?”
Cieran’s hand remained frozen in place as he tried to work out what Phoebe had just said. He finally settled with raising his hands.
“I didn’t understand a word of that but I’d say at a guess that I’ve just committed some Halliwell no no!”
Phoebe placed both hands on top of the screen and stared up at him.
“Not that I mind.” She began, “But it is a little disturbing to have you just breezing in through the front door without warning. God, it’s almost like having another Whi… Leo around.” She hastily changed the end of the sentence.
“Whi… Leo? He comes barging into this house on a regular basis?” Cieran wanted to know.
Phoebe smiled back at him.
“It’s kind of a long story to explain about Leo.”
“He’s our Whitelighter.” Piper spoke up from her place on the sofa.
“Apparently not that long a story!” Phoebe amended, wishing once again that there was some way to cancel the spell that her sister was under. “You know about Whitelighters?”
Cieran nodded and finally released his hold on the door.
“Heard of them, never met one.”
There was a knock at the door and, by craning her neck, Phoebe could make out the outline of their visitor through the frosted glass.
“Grab the door and knock yourself out!”
Cieran smiled back at Phoebe before reaching for the door. He knew that the humour in her voice was just a façade hiding a deep sense of emptiness and loss. She had been like this since their meeting. She had plastered a positive expression on her face and refused to acknowledge again the anger and fear that she felt over losing her sister to Hastings. She had smiled and joked and told him that nothing would stop them.
He had played along with her game and then left her searching the net whilst he took to the streets around The Occultancy, waiting and watching without pause whilst clients came and went. His eyes now burned with tiredness and his muscles ached but there could be no rest until they had something, some information to work with. And now, now perhaps he had bought Phoebe the news that she needed to hear.
He pulled open the door and the man on the doorstep, who Cieran took to be Leo, did his best to disguise the surprise on his face as he saw the stranger on the threshold.
“Cieran. Leo. Leo. Cieran.” Phoebe said briskly then addressed Leo. “Cieran doesn’t knock on doors either!”
Leo looked Cieran up and down and feeling somewhat self-conscious Cieran finally held out a hand. They politely shook hands but the pair remained standing in the hallway.
“Come on in.” Phoebe pleaded with them. “Or I can see myself spending tomorrow with an osteopath.”
“You saw that?” Leo questioned.
Phoebe groaned.
“Figure of speech Leo, figure of speech!”
Leo hastily apologised and moved further into the house placing a gentle kiss upon Piper’s head before settling onto the sofa and grabbing both of her hands between his. Cieran watched the interaction with interest as he sat on a chair across from Phoebe.
“So it is possible for you guys to have normal relationships then?” He whispered. Phoebe raised her eyebrows.
“A normal relationship? Where have you been for the last two years!” She smiled at Cieran as she read the concern in his eyes. “It’s possible.” She assured him. “Now what did you say about the buyer?”
“What? Oh his name’s Dalton. He seems to be something of a collector of the occult.”
“How did you find this out?” Leo wanted to know.
“We’ve been trying to find out more about The Occultancy’s client list. I’ve followed a few of the people who’ve visited the shop in the last twenty-four hours. Some have been small time collectors who’ve bought nothing more than a few trinkets but there have been a couple of big fish. All chauffeur driven cars and square shouldered henchmen.”
“Were you seen?” Leo’s tone was edged with anger.
“I fully understand what’s at stake.” Cieran tried to reassure him. “If I thought for one moment that I’d be putting lives at risk then I’d get out of there.”
“And by the time you realise it it could be too late!” Leo reminded him. “Hastings is a dangerous man.”
“I happen to think that Prue’s worth the risk.”
“This is not just Prue’s life at risk here. A lot of people could end up suffering if we get things wrong.”
“Now just a…” Cieran began but Phoebe quickly rose to her feet cutting him off.
“OK you two back to your corners. This is not the time.” Phoebe managed to keep her emotion in check as she slammed the laptop shut and strode across the room towards the stairs. Cieran made to follow her but Leo held up a hand.
“I’d let her go for the moment. She needs to cool down.”
“I think she needs to talk.”
“I’ve tried.” Leo said levelly.
“Maybe you’re not the right person to talk to her.”
“Look I’ve known her longer than you have.”
“And I’ve known her longer than both of you so I win.” Piper announced happily. “Do I win a prize?”
The two men glanced down at Piper and the anger that had been building inside of them immediately dropped away. Leo offered Cieran an apologetic look.
“I’m worried.” Cieran spoke as calmly as he could. “You’re worried. Let’s just pretend that that little spat never happened and lets work together to try and get Prue back.” He held out his hand again and Leo shook it firmly.
“Do I win a prize?” Piper repeated.
“No honey, it wasn’t really that sort of a competition but you can do me a favour.” Leo reached down and drew Piper to her feet. “I need you to get on the net and look up everything you can find on a man called Dalton. He lives in the city and he’s a collector of some sort.”
Piper nodded happily and followed Leo as he gathered up the laptop and headed into the kitchen.
Cieran looked towards the stairs and heard Leo’s voice floating back.
“You’ll most likely find her in Prue’s room.”
After listening to Leo’s directions, Cieran took a deep breath and headed towards the youngest Halliwell.

Phoebe looked up as she heard the gentle knock on the door. She had once again found herself heading for her sister’s room. She sat once again on the bed with her back against the wall and her knees drawn up to her chest. She sighed heavily.
“What is it?”
“Can I come in?”
Phoebe tried to keep the surprise out of her voice as she responded in the affirmative to Cieran’s request. She hadn’t expected him to come up after her. He slowly opened the door and poked his head around.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
She waved him in. He stepped cautiously into the room, trying hard not to examine his surroundings too closely but a part of him wanted to find out more about the character of the missing sister.
“It’s not normally like this.” Phoebe stated lightly, trying to ease the tension that was still in the air between them. “Usually you can’t get through the door for all the mess on the floor!”
Cieran’s eyes immediately focussed on the bed where Phoebe sat and he saw the genuine amusement in her eyes as she watched him. He shrugged his shoulders.
“You can’t blame a guy for being curious.”
Phoebe wrapped her arms around her drawn up knees and her expression became serious.
“I’m sorry.” She told him quietly. “I just don’t know how to feel about this. I don’t know how to handle what’s going on.” She saw Cieran about to make some comment and hastily continued before he had a chance to stop her train of thought. “What we’re dealing with, it isn’t demonic, it isn’t just after our powers. That we’re used to, that I can cope with. This is different. Hastings will kill people if he finds out what we’re up to.”
“And what about your feelings towards Prue? How are they?”
She shot him a hard look. He ignored the look and pressed the point.
“You’re still angry with her aren’t you?”
She thought about the question and finally nodded her head.
“I stand by everything I said before. I want Prue back and I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back. Doesn’t mean that it’s all gonna be happy families when this is over.”
“Leo’s got Piper looking on the net to see what she can find out about Dalton. You want to give them a hand?”
He offered out a hand towards her. She met his gaze and held it before finally making a move forward.
“So.” She asked him as she took his hand. “You learn anything more about my sister by being in here?”
“I know that I also want to get her back. Whatever it takes.”
“She must have made some impression on you?”
Cieran turned his head away from her.
“She reminds me of someone. I couldn’t do anything to help them when they needed me, maybe I can make up for that now.”
“I’m sorry.” Phoebe intoned softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
He smiled.
“It’s fine, really. It was a long time ago and I thought I’d lost a part of me when she died but when I saw your sister that first night, something struck a chord. Something of the spirit in her reminded me so much of…” He tailed off. “I’m sorry, this really isn’t the time.”
Phoebe watched him as he walked from the room. There was more to Cieran than met the eye. He was more than the simple Gypsy he claimed to be. That much was certain.

Phoebe allowed Cieran to lead her out of Prue’s room and down to the kitchen.
“Where have you been anyway?” Phoebe hopped up onto the counter and looked down at Leo he sat at the kitchen table opposite Piper.
He reluctantly took his eyes off Piper and met Phoebe’s gaze.
“I was called away. I’m sorry.”
“They certainly do pick their moments.” She told him. “Why don’t they ever call you away when there’s nothing going on? Why do they insist on doing it at moments when we really need you?”
“I’m sorry.” Leo repeated. He looked past Phoebe at Cieran who stood in the doorway. Phoebe caught the look.
“I trust him.” She told him firmly. “You can say anything you want to me in front of him.”
Leo considered Phoebe’s words for a few moments. Revealing to Cieran that they were witches was one thing but telling him about the elders and their involvement in affairs. That was something else entirely. He met the man’s gaze and came to a decision.
“The elders wanted to warn me about what could happen if Hastings ups his campaign against you. We have got to play this thing so carefully. One slip and all of you could be in danger. Hastings may decide that the simplest thing is to remove you all. He’ll have no qualms about killing you. He’d rather make a profit but at the end of the day his reputation is all important. He can’t have you making a fool out of him.”
“My the elders are getting chatty all of a sudden.” Phoebe remarked sarcastically. “They still feeling guilty about hanging Prue out to dry?”
Leo sighed.
“Phoebe we’ve been over this. You know there’s never going to be any sort of apology for what happened. They did what they thought was for the best at the time. I agree with you but there’s nothing to be gained by going over the same ground again.”
She pulled a face but made no further comment.
Cieran wanted to ask Phoebe what she was referring to but he knew that now wasn’t the time. He addressed Leo.
“Hastings is a dangerous man. The elders news isn’t exactly an exclusive. The Occultancy does business all around the world. Hell punch it into any search engine and it’ll tell you about Hastings’ company.”
“Let’s just say that the elders information comes from sources that even Google aren’t privy to.”
“Are they offering any constructive words of help?” Phoebe wanted to know.
Leo’s silence gave her the answer she expected.
“I’ve got it.”
All attention switched to Piper as she finally looked up from the laptop. She smiled at the concerned expressions on their faces and couldn’t understand why they were all talking in such a downbeat manner.
“What have you found Pipe?” Phoebe jumped off of the counter and moved to stand at her sister’s shoulder. She whistled as she read the text on the screen.
“He’s some collector all right. Started young with Star Wars figures and never looked back!”
Leo and Cieran moved round to try and get a look at the screen.
“Where d’you find this site?” Leo wanted to know.
“I just looked up his name and then trawled through the list that popped up. I’ve bookmarked half a dozen other sites that feature him. He’s certainly no Howard Hughes.”
“You can say that again?” Phoebe whistled as she scrolled down the page and read about his world renowned collection of fine art.
“He’s certainly no Howard Hughes.” Piper repeated. Phoebe kept her head down.
“Sorry Leo.” She muttered. “I was forgetting about the spell.”
“Just thank heavens it’s not some spell that’s gonna last for at least another week. I mean that would be enough to drive anyone nuts.”
“Look I’ve apologised about the spell. I made a mistake. I stuffed up. Now can we put that to one side and move on?”
“What do you suggest we do about our Mr Dalton?” Cieran asked.
“Go and see him.” Phoebe tapped the screen. “He’s been good enough to put his address on the site.”
“So you’re saying we should just go round and knock on his door and say ‘show us your collection’! I think as plans go its worthy of Scrappy Doo.”
Phoebe pulled a face at Cieran’s words.
“You got a better idea?”
“Listen to Velma.”
Cieran turned his head to stare at Piper. He then looked back at Phoebe.
“Is this all part of the spell you put on her?”
“Something of a side effect. She doesn’t just get the wrong end of the stick, she picks up a different stick entirely!”
“That must make life interesting?”
Phoebe pulled a face and raised her eyebrows. Cieran met her gaze and couldn’t help but smile.
Leo tried to bring the conversation back to something more serious.
“You’re gonna need to find some excuse to go and see him.”
“We could be collectors.” Phoebe suggested.
“We heard about him through contacts of Hastings.” Cieran added
“How come he’ll never have heard of you?” Leo queried.
“Good point.” Phoebe rested her head on Piper’s shoulder and put her arm around her. “We’ll think of something Leo. You think the elders might be able to help us set up some kind of cover? Persuade a few people to say the right things if any questions come their way?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He stepped back from the table and orbed from the room.
Cieran waved a hand at the space where Leo had been.
“Now that’s cool.” He remarked to no-one in particular. Phoebe looked up.
“What?”
“That ‘orbing’ thing. It’s a cool trick.”
“Gets old.” She told him. “Very quickly.”


Dalton stared down at the motionless form of the witch. She looked so peaceful, serene.
“You need me to sign something?”
Matthews nodded and clicked his fingers at Pike. Pike unhooked the clipboard from the end of the gurney and handed it to Matthews. Matthews checked that the paperwork was complete before passing it over.
He studied Dalton as the greasy man cast his eyes over the clipped sheets of paper.
“It’s all there.” He tried to reassure him. “Just sign the top sheet and she’s all yours.”
Dalton lifted his eyes and stared at the witch again.
“Why is she sedated so heavily?”
“Trust me.” Matthews told him. “You’re seeing her at her best.”
Dalton clicked his tongue against his teeth and looked down at the witch he had just paid out a small fortune for.
“What the hell are these for?” He pointed rigidly at the thick leather straps that bound her to the gurney. “You expecting her to sleepwalk out of here?” He made to examine the strap around her wrist but Matthews hand closed over it first.
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” He warned.
Dalton was almost lost for words.
“You are aware I’m sure of how much I am paying Hastings for this? I don’t expect to receive damaged goods.” He shook off Matthews hand and tried to slide a finger between the strap and the witches wrist. There was no space to be found.
“Mr Hastings has authorised me to tell you that if there is any bruising he’ll be more than happy to offer you compensation.” Matthews stated smoothly. “I do feel that I should caution you against releasing the witch however, she is not the most co-operative of individuals.”
Dalton grumbled under his breath and carried out a cursory check of some of the other straps.
“How long till the sedative wears off?”
Matthews glanced down at his watch.
“I’d give it another three hours before she starts to come round.”
“This really isn’t the sort of thing I expect from The Occultancy.”
“This is a special case sir.” Matthews tried hard to maintain a level tone. His patience was fast running out. “I’ve seen the witch in action and trust me, you don’t want to be anywhere near her when she’s conscious. If you have any issues you wish to take up with The Occultancy then do ring our customer service line and I’m sure some renumeration can be arranged.”
Matthews glanced at his watch again.
“Am I keeping you?” Dalton sniffed.
“I’m afraid that I do have another case to attend to sir. I hope you’ll excuse us.”
Dalton waved his hand and watched as Matthews and his men silently slipped from the room.

He glanced down at the witch again and considered releasing her from the straps. Surely Matthews had been exaggerating about her powers? His fingers reached forward to the strap around her left wrist but as he touched the tough leather he hesitated. Matthews was not one to offer out cautions lightly. He’d dragged a third level demon through the door without batting an eyelid only a few months ago. Maybe he ought to heed the man’s words. He pulled his hand back but as he did so his eyes caught the torn material around the right shoulder. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and investigated the tear. The material pulled back to reveal the brand that signified she belonged to Hastings. This was something he’d have to take up with Hastings at the next available opportunity. The branding was one thing to take but not bothering to make sure that the product was properly dressed was way out of line.


Cieran unclipped his seatbelt and made to climb from the car. He stopped as soon as he noticed that Phoebe wasn’t moving. She sat stock still in the passenger seat, her belt still on, her eyes gazing sightlessly out through the window.
“You ok?” Cieran inquired gently, needing to find out Phoebe’s state of mind before proceeding with the plan. He couldn’t afford for her to lose control of her emotions whilst they were dealing with Dalton. If she lost her cool and their cover was blown it wouldn’t just be them who suffered. Word would get back to Hastings and he would seek retribution.
She turned her head and the look on her face told him that she was finding things harder than she had expected.
“You want to wait here?” He asked her gently. “You could keep an eye out for any of Hastings’s men.”
Phoebe shook her head.
“I’m coming in with you. I have to come in with you.”
“You know what we’re likely to see?”
She nodded her head, trying to push out the voices that were telling her to get as far away from Dalton’s home as she could. She had to be there for Prue, she had to try and get her sister out of there. What would happen between them once this was over was something that she didn’t want to think about. This was one time when there wouldn’t be a happy ending. There were still issues to resolve and a lot of things needed to change if they were to stand any chance of getting their relationship back on track. Cieran seemed to be the only one who understood the contradictions in her outbursts. She’d be berating her sister for her selfish actions one minute and missing her like crazy the next. They were sisters, there was something in that relationship that made it impossible to walk away when one of them was in trouble. Prue might be the one person who she found it impossible to sit down and have a conversation with at the moment but she wanted to know that Prue was there for her to be mad at, that she was inside Dalton’s home waiting for rescue and then showing her gratitude by bawling her out for having done something so potentially dangerous.
Phoebe allowed herself a small smile. This was certainly an action that Prue would not approve of. If it had been Prue sitting in the car next to her at the moment there was no way that she’d let her carry out her plan. She’d make her wait for more back-up, tell her in no uncertain terms that this wasn’t a wise move. It would be an action that SHE wouldn’t stop to think about before jumping in with both feet but somehow the ‘do as I say and not as I do’ attitude never registered with her. She could never understand how her infuriating assumption that she was indestructible could be doubted by anyone else. She would pointedly tell them that she was more than capable of looking after herself and that she didn’t need them butting in. She would get angry if they questioned her actions further and eventually they would have to resign themselves to accepting the fact the Prue would never see herself as being in the wrong.
Phoebe tilted her head back and closed her eyes. She felt so alone without either of her sisters by her side. She just wanted this whole thing to be over but there was only one way that that was going to happen.
She opened her eyes and reached for the door catch.
“Let’s get this done.”

The deep timbre of the bell could be heard from within the house. Phoebe stood nervously on the doorstep trying to calm the furious pounding of her heart.
Cieran briefly squeezed her arm and then turned his attention to the door as he could hear the sounds of bolts being drawn back.
Bright, white light spilled out onto the step as the door swung open. Cieran plastered a smile upon his face and held his hand out to the man at the door.
The handshake was refused and the guard regarded him with a certain amount of distain.
“Would you kindly tell Mr Dalton that he has guests.”
“Mr Dalton is fully aware of your presence. He is waiting for you in the study.”
The guard stood back and beckoned them into the house.


“And what exactly is it that you want?” Dalton sat back in an armchair, swirling a whisky tumbler in his right hand, admiring the golden colour of the liquid as it caught in the light from the open fire.
“I know this is a little forward of us…” Cieran began, trying not to let the oppressive heat in the room distract him from the plan he and Phoebe had worked out. He stole a quick glance at her and noted that the heat was affecting her as well.
Dalton stilled the liquid in the glance and finally looked up at his guests.
“Well spit it out man.”
Dalton turned his head to stare longingly at the soda siphon that sat on the bar next to the bottle of malt. Having a roaring fire in the darkened room had seemed like such a good idea when he’d first gotten word from his contacts that there were certain parties interested in viewing his collection.
He had never failed to be impressed by the splendour of Hastings surroundings and wanted to try and bring a little of that sophistication to his own set up. The one thing he hadn’t really considered was that the middle of summer was not the time to draw the curtains and place a roaring fire in the grate.
He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat and finally, with a degree of effort, turned back to face his guests.
They seemed an odd pairing. He wouldn’t have thought of either of them as the sort who would have been interested in his collection. The girl in particular seemed ill at ease. She kept glancing nervously round the room but the expectation that radiated from her was hard to ignore.
He dragged his attention back to the man. He too was twitching with nervousness but he was more successful at disguising his mood.
“How did you hear about me?” He decided to break the ice with a straightforward question.
“Mr Hastings at The Occultancy suggested that I talk to you.”
Dalton frowned.
“That was a little… clumsy of him!”
“He merely suggested that you and I might share similar interests.” Cieran tried to soothe the fears of Dalton. “Mr Hastings is nothing if not discreet.”
“Then how come he’s never mentioned you to me?”
“We’re new in town.” Phoebe cut into the conversation and earned herself a glare from Cieran.
“That’s a little unoriginal.” Dalton sneered. “You were outside in the car long enough to concoct a story that was a little less like Swiss cheese.”
“Ok ok.” Cieran tried to ease the atmosphere of distrust that was steadily building in the room. “So we’re not new in town. We’re also not planning to be any sort of a threat to you either. Mr Hastings learned of our interest in all things occult based and suggested that we might learn a thing or two by talking to you.”
Dalton licked his lips nervously.
“What exactly did Hastings tell you about my collection?”
“He said that it was beyond compare but he was very vague when it came to details.” Cieran sat forward in his chair. “Would you be willing to let us view the wonders that you have collected?”
Dalton smiled and took a sip from the tumbler in his hand.
“Can you prove the credentials that you claim to have?”
Cieran pushed himself out of the chair.
“I am not willing to carry on with this charade.” He growled. “Hastings told me that you were a man of honour, that you had something that it would benefit me to see. If this is not the case and this is nothing more than Hastings idea of a joke then prey tell us now and we can cease wasting our time.”

Phoebe stared open-mouthed at Cieran’s outburst. She hadn’t thought that that sort of arrogance was a part of his make-up. He spoke with a commanding authority that almost had her believing that he had in fact spoken with Hastings. She became aware that her mouth was still open and slowly closed it. She realised that Cieran was looking in her direction, waiting for her to back him up.
She scrambled to her feet with as much dignity as she could muster and threw what she hoped was a disparaging glare in the direction of Dalton.
“Shall we go?” She inquired frostily.
“Let’s not be hasty.” Dalton also rose to his feet. He was obviously unsettled by the sudden change in the attitude of his guests. What if they were close friends of Hastings? What if they were people who could help him build his collection up to even greater levels? He regarded them again and decided that little was to be lost by showing them what they desired to see. If it was proved that they could not be relied upon then they could be dealt with. That was the reason that one employed security.
“Please, please. If you’ll follow me. I think that we can come to some arrangement.”
He placed the tumbler on the mantelpiece and turned back to his guests, spreading his arms wide and then beckoning them out of the room.

He led them down a series of over lit and badly decorated hallways until they entered the older part of the house where the servants quarters had once been. Dalton came to a halt and looked nervously around. He made a fuss of pulling a key from his pocket and glanced quickly back over his shoulder at the couple behind him.
“What happens from here on in does not go beyond this building. Anything you see, anything you experience. It stays within this building. You will forget everything and if you are foolish enough to talk to anyone about this they will quickly forget and you will soon be unable to tell anyone anything ever again. Your forgetfulness will be permanent. I won’t know you. No-one will know you.”
“What is this? An offer from Amnesiacs anonymous?”
“Who’d know!” Phoebe replied to Cieran’s sarcastic remark and earned only a hard stare from Dalton.
“If you two are not going to take this seriously…” He let the sentence die and watched as their expressions quickly sobered.
“I’m sorry.” Cieran apologised. “Please. You can trust us both. We will not whisper a word to anyone.”
Dalton ran an eye over them again before turning back to the concealed door that lay ahead. The key felt heavy in his hand as it always did. The same feelings of excitement and expectation washed over him as he prepared to view his occult collection. The key slid into the recessed lock and he turned it gently, hearing the locking mechanism slide smoothly back on well oiled hinges. He pulled the key back and pocketed it before placing both his palms on the solid wood and pushing. The panel slid silently to one side revealing a darkened flight of stairs.
Dalton smiled and rubbed his hands in expectation.
“If the two of you would care to follow me.”

Dalton led the way down the steep flight of metal stairs. Phoebe shared a nervous look with Cieran before cautiously following the linen suited man down the stairs.
Her heard was pounding and she became acutely aware of the sound of her shoes echoing on the dull metal of the steps.
She licked her dry lips nervously and tried to swallow. Now was not the time to let her fear get the better of her. She had a job to do here and she was determined that she was going to carry it out successfully.
Dalton turned to face them and pulled a paisley handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his face hurriedly before stuffing the damp handkerchief back into his jacket pocket. He smiled at them.
“Welcome.” He pointed a small remote control unit into the blackness that lay beyond Phoebe and Cieran and pressed down on the pad.

Phoebe heard Cieran whistle quietly as row after row of white lights flickered into life. The blackness that had previously dominated the cavernous basement was destroyed by an encroaching white light that illuminated a seemingly endless line of cabinets.
“Are they all occupied?” Cieran’s voice was the first to break the awed silence that had descended upon the small group.
Dalton’s head bobbed up and down.
“Oh yes. In fact I’m in talks with my supplier to see if I can’t have some more of them made.”
He pocketed the remote unit and rubbed his hands together.
“Is there anything in particular you’d like to see?”
Phoebe remained silent, not trusting herself to speak. She prayed that Cieran would come up with some reason for Dalton to lead them to her sister.
“I hardly know where to begin.” Cieran confessed. “I think it best that we place ourselves in your hands and let you show us all that there is to see.”
Dalton smiled up at Cieran before spinning on his heel and smartly walking away.
“A fine plan, a fine plan.” Dalton told him over his shoulder. “There is so much to see and it really should be viewed in a certain order.”
Phoebe hung back to let Cieran move past her before hissing in his ear.
“We haven’t got time for all this.”
“We can’t afford to tip our hand.” Cieran shot back at her. “Play nice and look like you’re interested.” He smiled at Dalton as the man turned round to check that the couple were following him.

Phoebe tried her hardest to look interested at the contents of the innumerable numbers of cases that they passed. They began to blur somewhat as the tour continued. Dalton’s whining voice buzzing away at the back of her skull, telling her pointless facts about each and every item that he owned. She wanted nothing more than to grab him by his rumpled lapels and shout into his face that all she wanted was to be taken to see one specific person. Part of her brain refused to believe that her sister was really here. A part of her brain wanted to believe that her sister was in fact miles away from here. A part of her brain wanted her to get as far away from this creepy place as she could. Her mind drifted as she was led past yet another row of cases. The unnatural silence that filled the room only served to remind her of the times that Grams had tried to instil a sense of history and art appreciation in them. She recalled the times that, as a small child, she had been dragged to museum after museum and told how she should find wonder in all that the towering, dusty display cases had to show her. She remembered how loud her shoes would sound upon the hard wood of the floor and how other visitors would turn to stare as she did her best to make the echoing sound reverberate around the high walls. She remembered the brief flash of annoyance that would cross Prue’s face as she would be forced to turn from something that had caught her imagination and return to the everyday. How she would quickly forget her usual ritual of disapproving stares and rehearsed speeches about suitable behaviour in her desire to take in all that surrounded her. Phoebe had never understood just what it was in the items around her that caught her sister’s imagination, she had never appreciated the stories that the fragile, seemingly insignificant, objects that lined the cabinets could tell them of the past. All she could think of was the warm summer air that lay outside the museum and the ice-cream she would get if she managed to remain quiet and behave during the visit. The cool artificially lit rooms of the museum could never hold a torch to the endless expanse of the parks and the beach. The sheer illusion of freedom and carefreeness that they promised would always win out over everything. She sighed quietly as she recalled the times where the summer would unfold in front of her, never seeming to end. A small part of her wished that those days could be returned to her again. She would know how to appreciate them now, she would truly understand just how precious they were and not allow them to trickle unnoticed through her hands like grains of sand.

She shook the thoughts from her mind as she noticed that Cieran and Dalton had come to a halt. She duly turned her attention to the glass fronted case that they stood in front of and stared in mute silence at the figure who stood motionless behind the thick protective glass.
“Beautiful isn’t she?” Came the whine at her shoulder.
She nodded slowly, unable to trust herself to speak as she gazed at the pale, lifeless face of her sister.

“She’s my most recent purchase actually.” Dalton appeared at Phoebe’s shoulder as she stared up into the frozen face of her sister. “Found myself in the market for a witch and wondering where on Earth I was going to track one down when your Mr Hastings and his Occultancy came to my rescue.”
Phoebe’s brain desperately searched for something to say by way of response but found that she was unable. Her eyes were locked on the closed eyes of her sister. She looked so peaceful… so still… so dead.
“Did Mr Hastings make you a fair deal?” Cieran came to Phoebe’s aid, pushing back his own feelings and desperately trying to avoid arousing the suspicions of their host.
Dalton dragged his eyes away from Phoebe and turned his attention to the man who stood only a few paces away.
“What? What? A fair deal? Oh yes, considering the quality of the merchandise that can be procured from Mr Hastings I’d say it was a very reasonable deal.” He paused and pulled a pristine white handkerchief from his pocket. He stepped up alongside Phoebe and tapped her on the shoulder.

As Cieran had begun to talk Phoebe had found herself drawn forward towards her sister. She placed her palms flat against the glass and looked up at her still features. She didn’t think she had ever seen her looking so peaceful, so completely lacking in emotion. Even in sleep her face always seemed to be lined with worry or marked at the edges by happiness. There was always something going on in her head. It was disconcerting to see her showing no emotion at all.
She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned her head to see the disapproving stare of Dalton. He motioned her away with his hands and she reluctantly stepped away from her sister. Dalton immediately wiped at the glass with his handkerchief, trying to remove any marks that Phoebe’s hands had left. He tutted loudly and wiped even more furiously as he spotted a smear on the pane.
Phoebe’s eyes remained fixed on Prue’s face
“Can you not touch the exhibits!” he sniffed.
“Exhibits?” Phoebe’s voice was high. She felt Cieran’s hand on her shoulder and turned away from the row of containers. She knew that a show of anger now would blow their cover but hearing the weasel refer to her sister as nothing more than property to be owned and looked at was almost more than she could stomach.
“I’m sorry for my associate.” Cieran said smoothly as Dalton turned in mid wipe to look in disgust at Phoebe. “I think the presence of so many fine examples here has proved to be almost too much for her. ‘Exhibits’ doesn’t seem to be a word sufficient to do justice to the collection that you have managed to gather together here. It is truly remarkable is it not?”
Phoebe knew that this was her cue to say something.
“Remarkable is certainly a word for it.” She turned to face Dalton a smile on her face so fake that it hurt. “I can honestly say that I’ve never seen anything to rival this in my life.”
Dalton seemed to be somewhat placated by this comment and graced her with a smile that made Phoebe want to hurl.
“Everything that I have here is unique. I think, no in fact I am convinced, that I have the finest collection of occult items in the country.”
“At the very least.” Cieran assured him. “The finest collection. Dare I suggest that it is perhaps the finest collection in the world?”
Dalton’s chest swelled with pride at the false flattery.
“Why thank you sir.” He blustered. “Thank you for your kind words. I pride myself on my dedication to my collection. I’d like to believe that no other collection rivalled my own but certain Mystical Tomes indicate that there is a collection even greater than mine.”
Phoebe tuned the man’s whining voice out of her head and found her attention inexorably drawn towards her sister. There had to be some way of getting her out of there. Some way of reversing whatever Dalton had done to her.
She became aware that the conversation had stopped and turned to Cieran hoping for a clue as to what she had missed. She felt his glare but chose to ignore it and turned to smile at Dalton.
“You must forgive me.” She told him smoothly. “I just find your collection captivating.”
He smiled at her and offered her his hand. Pushing down the revulsion she felt she accepted the proffered hand and let him lead her further down the brightly lit gallery.
“You seem to be quite taken by the witch.” He remarked as he led her past more glass cabinets, each one containing a minor warlock or demon.
She smiled at him.
“They’re something of a passion of mine.” She told him. “I believe it’s quite rare to find one with an active power.”
“Oh very rare.” He told her. “I was lucky to secure that example from The Occultancy.”
“Did you get a chance to see her in action before you…” She pointed at one of the glass chambers. “Did whatever it is you do to them?”
“Mr Hastings ensures that the merchandise is fully sedated and of no danger to others before they are delivered. I would have thought that you two would have known that.”
“Oh we do.” Phoebe countered. “I was just wondering if you’d seen her before the purchase?”
“Alas no but the file that I received was fairly detailed.”
“Could I see it do you think?”
Dalton stopped in his tracks and spun on his heel to face her.
“You really are hung up on that witch aren’t you?”
“It’s not that…” Phoebe tried desperately to think of a way out of the corner she’d backed herself into. “We’re looking to do another deal with him. Just wanted to see what services he’s currently offering.”
“Hmm.” Dalton glared suspiciously at her.
“I’m intrigued by the way that you display your exhibits.” She tried to send him off down a different avenue. “What do you do to them?”
“Complete suspension of all motor functions.” He told them proudly. “Those boffins up at NASA would give an arm and a leg just to get a small piece of the technology we have developed here.”
“NASA?” Phoebe queried.
“Just imagine.” Dalton’s eyes began to shine as he considered the subject. “Just imagine how far space travel could advance if they could master the way to place their astronauts in complete suspended animation. They could travel out beyond our galaxy and journey to places that at the present moment are merely the pipe dreams of a hundred scientists.”
“But you could offer them that technology.” Phoebe reasoned.
Dalton’s eyes blazed with fury as he turned away from her.
“Why should I help them? What have they ever done for me?”
Cieran stepped in behind Phoebe.
“So you’ve mastered the complete suspension of motor functions without any side effects?” He enquired, eager to get their host back on his favourite subject.
He regarded Cieran with a certain degree of suspicion.
“You two seem almost over eager to learn about my little set up here.” He narrowed his eyes. “You aren’t planning to try and set up some sort of rival operation are you?”
“Oh no.” Cieran replied smoothly. “It’s just that we are so fascinated by what you have managed to achieve here. With The Occultancy’s ability to procure the finest subjects and your process of harmlessly suspending their lives I feel an almost overwhelming desire to invest money in your collection.”
“This is a private collection.” Dalton sniffed at them. “I don’t think I want anyone else getting involved in it’s running.”
“We’d be strictly silent partners.” Phoebe assured him.
“I’ll have to think about it.” He huffed uncertainly. His pager beeped and he pulled it hastily from his pocket. After glaring at the message that appeared, he randomly pressed the buttons on the small gadget, trying to stop it from beeping at him.
“You must excuse me.” He looked furtively at the door at the end of the room. “There is something that I really must attend to.”
“Of course. My associate and I will be perfectly content to wait for you.”
“Thank you. Thank you.” He dabbed his forehead with his handkerchief and turned as if to leave when a thought struck him and he spun round to glare at Phoebe.
“You won’t touch anything will you?”
Phoebe raised three fingers.
“Scout’s honour.”
“Hmmm.” With that Dalton practically ran from the basement.

Phoebe waited until the door closed behind him before heading straight back to the cabinet where Prue was. She halted in front of it and looked around for Cieran. She was somewhat surprised to see that he had gone to the far end of the cavernous room and was examining a case there. She jogged down to him.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying not to let Dalton know that it’s Prue we’re after.”
Phoebe heard the anger in his voice.
“You saying that I’m a liability?”
“You almost blew our cover back there.” He hissed at her.
Phoebe narrowed her eyes and tried to marshal her words.
“In case you’ve forgotten that’s my sister back there. Pardon me for being concerned.”
He turned to face her.
“I’m just as concerned as you are but if we are to stand any chance of getting away with this we have got to be very careful.”
“Ok Ok.” Phoebe tried to calm her anger. “What’s your great master plan?”
“We try and find out how he puts his ‘subjects’ into this total suspension he claims to have mastered. We don’t refer to Prue again if we can help it.”
Phoebe nodded her head in agreement and moved to stand next to him, pretending to examine the contents of the cabinet aware that there might be cameras scanning the area.
“What about a sick relative that we want to put into suspended animation until a cure can be found?”
“Isn’t that a science fiction cliché?”
“Well you come up with something better.” She hissed at him.
“I like the idea that we are thinking of buying something from Hastings ourselves. If we can get Dalton to believe that we are collectors like him then he might be more willing to share his creepy life suspension trick with us.”
Phoebe glanced round at the row upon row of sealed glass cases.
“You ever collect Star Wars figures when you were a kid?”
“Had a couple. Not really my sort of thing though.”
“One thing I need to know. You play with them or leave them in their packaging waiting until they were worth a fortune?”
“I had the only one armed Wookie I’ve ever seen.”
“Good.” Phoebe hissed at him. “I get the feeling that this guy still has the whole set sealed in its original packaging in an attic somewhere.”
“And you?” Cieran whispered back. “You play with your dolls or you leave them sitting pretty on a shelf somewhere?”
“I think I had the only Barbie with a number 2 cut.” She looked at Cieran’s confused expression. “One of the boys in the neighbourhood had a tank for his G.I Joe. Only way I could play with it was to cut Barbie’s hair and make her join the Marines.”
“Semper fie Barbie. Now there’s a concept!”
Phoebe smiled up at Cieran, grateful for his attempt to get her thoughts away from her sister. She returned her attention to the cabinet in front of her and stared at the sprite that was standing motionless inside of it. She wondered what it must be like to be trapped within one of the cabinets. Was it a similar experience to the one that that coma victims were supposed to go through, to be aware of the people around you but to not be able to get through to them. She shivered and hoped that they’d be able to get Prue out of there quickly.

“So.” Hastings’s voice oozed down the phone. “Is everything fine with your recent purchase?”
“She is exquisite. Everything you promised Mr Hastings. I do wish you’d rethink the branding though.”
“I’ve explained that to you before Mr Dalton.”
“I understand the need to show that the merchandise is from you but it does leave such a blemish on the skin.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“It’s a little more than that Mr Dalton. Look I don’t usually tell my clients this but as you are becoming such a regular customer I think it’s time I made an exception.”
“Prey, do tell Mr Hastings.”
“When the brand is applied, a little tracking device is planted as well.”
“What?” Dalton’s tone was harsh, anger creeping into his tone.
“Mr Dalton. Mr Dalton.” Hastings soothed him. “Do not worry. The tracking device is not active at the present time. In fact it will only be activated if you should report that she has been stolen.”
Dalton laughed.
“And you think it likely that someone will try and steal from me?”
“I’d stake The Occultancy on it. The witch you have just bought has family.”
“Close family?”
“I’d say so. Now the witch made a deal with me but I fully expected her sisters to try something foolish to try and get her back.”
Dalton turned his head back towards the room he had just left.
“Could you describe any of the family members?”
“Oh I can do better than that Mr Dalton, much better than that. I can tell you that one of them is viewing your collection as we speak. The Gypsy with her is nothing but the witch does possess powers.”
“How the…” Dalton spluttered, unsure whether to be angry or relieved that Hastings was sharing the news with him.
“We were keeping an eye on the witches younger sister. We fully expected her to make some kind of move.”
“What’s the deal with the gypsy?”
“We’re not sure as yet but I have operatives looking into it.”
“I’m glad you warned me Mr Hastings. I’ll have the two stopped now.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“I’d rather you left them alone for the present time Mr Dalton.”
“But you said yourself that they were likely to try and steal the witch back.” Dalton pushed his free hand through his hair thinking back over the amount of interest that the young woman had shown in his latest acquisition. His suspicions had been spot on.
“I very much doubt that they’d try anything today Mr Dalton. They are more than likely casing the joint for a later hit. If you’ll indulge me for a short while I may be able to offer you another unique specimen.”
“I could simply take the young witch now.”
“Ahh yes. Indeed you could. But she doesn’t possess her full powers at the present time. Where would be the pride in owning her? You’d have her all neatly boxed up but missing the vital accessories.”
“Are you trying to be cute Hastings?” Dalton began to get the impression that Hastings wasn’t taking his collection seriously.
“Accept my apologies Mr Dalton. I meant no offence. I have men following the young woman and as soon as we are certain that she has regained her optimum strength you will have first refusal on her.”
“What if I just decide to take her anyway?”
“That wouldn’t be a smart move on your part Mr Dalton. It could turn out to be the last move you ever make.”
“Is that a threat Hastings?”
“If you play by the rules you can think of it as a friendly warning. Cross me and you will soon learn exactly what it was.”
Dalton laughed nervously.
“First refusal you say?”
“As I said Mr Dalton. First refusal.”
Dalton quickly ended the call and replaced the receiver. He stared at the phone for a few moments before leaving the room. Hastings was so used to playing everything his own way. Maybe it was time that he took matters into his own hands. Hastings had said family not sister, implying that there was more than one member of her immediate family out there. Chances were that they had some degree of powers as well. If he could find out more about them he might be able to get his own supply of witches. He’d play along with Hastings for now but if the opportunity came along for a private venture he’d grab it with both hands. He clicked his fingers at the guard at the end of the hall in the way he’d seen Hastings doing earlier. He’d liked the effect and thought it was something that he’d try and emulate. The guard however was having none of it and pointedly ignored the sound. Dalton cleared his throat loudly and then tried a laud cough. There was still no response.
“Desmond.” He called out finally. “Mr Desmond, can I please have a moment of your time?”
The guard looked up smartly upon hearing the last sentence and walked smartly towards him.
“What can I do for you?”
Dalton felt like pointedly adding the word ‘sir’ but didn’t think that it would really do much good.
“I need you to find out where the couple who are currently viewing my collection come from. Be careful though, they already have one person tailing them.”
The guard regarded him for a moment.
“So you want me to follow them?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that considered stalking?”
Dalton just stared at him.
“Did you ever get the feeling that you were in the wrong line of work?”
“I just wanted to make sure that you were aware of the legal implications.”
“Have you seen my collection Desmond? When you’ve been on patrol in the evening have you noticed exactly what it is you are patrolling around?”
“I pay the greatest of attention.” Desmond replied indignantly.
“Then you’ll know that if the police ever knock on my door, explaining away a charge of stalking will be the least of my worries.” Dalton glanced at the man again. “So. Do you want to go and get yourself ready to follow them, they will be leaving soon.”
“Right.” Desmond took off the hat he was wearing and looked around for somewhere to put it down. He finally held it out to Dalton who glared and simply mouthed the word ‘staff-room’ at him. Desmond gave him a nod of understanding and then headed off down the corridor. Dalton sighed in relief and prepared to rejoin his guests when he heard Desmond’s voice from the far end.
“You do pay overtime don’t you?”
Dalton stood in stunned silence for a moment before deciding it was best that he pretend he hadn’t heard anything.

Cieran glanced up as the door finally opened again and a slightly flustered looking Dalton re-appeared.
“Not bad news I hope?”
Dalton looked up and pulled his glasses from his nose, wiping them on his grubby linen jacket before replacing them.
“What? What? Oh no. No bad news at all. Just Mr Hastings and his after-service care.”
“He really is very thorough.” Phoebe remarked, determined to do her best to look like a potential buyer.
“A most considerate company all in all.” Dalton agreed. “Now I’m sorry to have to cut this visit short but I really have things I must be getting on with.”
“Not at all.” Cieran enthused, stepping forward to grasp Dalton’s hand. “You’ve already given us so much of your time. It has been a pleasure to see your collection.”
“A real honour.” Phoebe added.
“Thank you.” Despite the fact that he knew the words were only spoken to flatter him he couldn’t help but respond to them.
Cieran shook his hand warmly.
“I do hope that we’ll be able to come back again soon.”
Dalton smiled.
“Oh that is an event that I can certainly foresee.”
He smiled at them again before proceeding to usher them from the room.


Leo was pacing restlessly back and forth when he heard the sound of the car pulling into the driveway.
He glanced nervously at the watch on his wrist before wiping a hand across his face and turning his attention towards the door.
“So?” The words were out of his mouth the moment that the door began to swing back on its hinges.
Phoebe looked toward him and opened her mouth to respond when a streak of yellow burst across the room and threw itself at her.
She stumbled under the impact and Cieran was there to catch her as Fiona began barking to indicate her pleasure at seeing them both.
Phoebe finally managed to recover her balance and turned her attentions to the retriever. She bent down to make a fuss of the dog and carefully guided it back across the room.
She threw herself onto one of the chairs and Fiona promptly sat on her feet.
“What happened?” Leo’s tone was full of concern as he sat down opposite her. “Are you ok?”
“We’re fine.” Cieran confirmed as he too crossed the room to join the others.
“Did you get to see Prue?”
Cieran watched as the colour faded from Phoebe’s face. She had remained resolutely silent throughout the journey home and had refused to be drawn by any of his attempts to get her to talk.
“We saw her.” He confirmed.
“Phoebe? How was she?”
Phoebe ran her hands through her hair as she tried to compose her thoughts and Cieran noted the way that they shook, slight barely perceptible tremors that she struggled and failed to keep under control.
“She… um… she.” Her voice was faint and hesitant.
“Phoebe it’s important.” Leo urged her
“But it can wait.” Cieran told him firmly, moving to stand in front of Phoebe. “We have information but now is not the time.”
“I don’t think you understand the seriousness of the situation.” Leo warned him. “This is not your fight. There is no time to waste.”
“You’re wrong.”
“And what makes you our instant expert?”
Cieran grabbed hold of Leo’s arm and pulled him from his seat.
“I think you and I need to have a little chat.”
Leo angrily shook his arm free.
“Not here.” Cieran hissed under his breath.
“The kitchen perhaps?”
“Fine.”

The tension in the air was tangible and for a moment neither man spoke. Leo made his way across to the sink whilst Cieran stayed leaning in the doorway.
“You want to explain what that little demonstration of petulance was all about?” Leo slammed his hands down on the work surface before turning to hear Cieran’s reply.
“You’re pushing her too hard. She’s doing her best but she can’t cope with everything. Her world’s falling around her ears and she needs a release.”

Leo stared past Cieran and into the lounge. Piper had entered the room and Phoebe was now curled up on the sofa with her head on her sister’s lap. Piper was singing softly to her, her fingers running lightly through Phoebe’s hair. Phoebe’s face was emotionless. She lay there and stared sightlessly across the room almost unaware of her sister’s comforting presence.

“I wasn’t trying to have a go at you.” Cieran spoke quietly. “I saw Phoebe’s reaction upon seeing her sister. She’s just not ready to talk about it yet.”
“Time is something we shouldn’t be wasting.” Leo persisted, some of the anger having dropped from his voice. “I need to know what sort of state she’s in.”
“I can tell you what we saw. We don’t need to bother Phoebe.”
“How was she?”
Cieran cast his eyes towards the ceiling as he tried to marshal his thoughts. He recalled the waxy emotionless expression on Prue’s face, so at odds with the fire and the passion for life that had shone out from her the last time they had met.
“She looked peaceful.” He ran the comment through his mind and immediately changed his view. “She looked like she was dead. There was no sign of any of her character, any of her personality. It was like staring at a copy made by someone who’d never met her.”
“But you’re sure she wasn’t actually dead?”
“Dalton was at great pains to tell us that she was in some kind of complete suspension. I’m not sure exactly what it is that he’s done to her but she’s alive. That much I’m certain of.”
“We need to find out more about what this ‘state’ is.”
“We need to get her out of there.” Cieran stated firmly. “That’s what we need to do.”
Leo narrowed his eyes and bit back his immediate response. Cieran saw the action.
“Just say it Leo. Just say it.”
Leo ran his hands through his hair.
“Rushing in last time only landed us in trouble. I say we think this one through a little more carefully. The important thing is that she is still alive. The Power of Three still exists and that is too important to risk.”
“Are you saying we should just leave her there?” Cieran’s tone was high with disbelief. “You can barely wait for Phoebe to get through the door before you demand information about Prue and then you do this, act as if getting her back wasn’t important and the only thing you care about is your precious Power of Three.” Cieran took a step closer to Leo. “Work out which side of the fight you are on Angel boy.”
“Dalton is a client of Hastings.” Leo explained emotionlessly, refusing to rise to Cieran’s challenge. “Hastings has stated that he would kill one of Phoebe’s friends if he caught us trying to get to Prue. You want the weight of someone’s death on your conscience if this goes wrong? I say we find out as much as we can about her situation before we do anything we might later regret.”
“And I still say you are wrong.” Cieran growled.
“You’re entitled to your opinion.”
“As are you to yours, it’s just your belief that we are all entitled to your opinion that bugs me.” Cieran walked past him and headed towards the living room. “You wanna do something useful then I suggest you orb your lily white ass out of here and let us get down to the job of rescuing Prue.”
He didn’t wait for a reply from Leo and rejoined Phoebe and Piper.

He sat down across from her, aware that her eyes were staring sightlessly in his direction. He smiled at Piper and sat forward clasping his hands together.
“Phoebe?”
There was no reaction from the young witch. He tried again.
“Phoebe. I need to ask you something and I need an answer from you. I know you’ve been through a lot today and I promise you that once you’ve answered my question I’ll leave you alone. I’ll walk out of this house and I’ll leave you alone.” He paused and waited for some reaction. “Is that alright with you?”
Phoebe slowly shook her head, not lifting herself away from the comfort of her sister’s embrace.
“Don’t go.” Her voice was so low that Cieran could barely make out her words. “Don’t you leave me as well.”
Cieran smiled at her.
“Wait till I ask my question before you start saying things like that.”
Phoebe managed a watery smile.
“Ask your question.”
Cieran gathered his thoughts together.
“Leo thinks we should wait to find out more about Dalton and his set up before we move in.”
“What do you think?” Phoebe’s words cut across the end of his sentence.
“I think we should try and get Prue out of there. The longer we leave it, the harder it will get. Dalton’s gonna find out what we’re up to and he’s gonna tighten up security. Leo’s mentioned the threat that Hastings made and I don’t wanna make a move if you’re not happy.”
“I want my sister back.”
“So I’ll make plans and I’ll get this all set up.”
“No.” For the first time Phoebe’s voice was firm. “I’m a part of this and I’m gonna stay a part of this until it’s over. No-one else gets involved. It’s just us. Ok?”
Cieran rose to his feet and whistled. Immediately there was the sound of skittering paws as Fiona came skidding into the room.
“I’ll take her out for a while, clear my head. When I get back will talk this through if you’re ready.”
“Just us.” She reminded him.
“Just us.” He confirmed. He glanced down at the dog that was now dancing around his feet. “Come on then trouble. Lets go and work this out.”


Phoebe’s palms were slick with nervous sweat. She wiped her hands on her jeans before wrapping her arms around herself. She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and watched as the second hand seemed to take an age to complete a full circle and indicate the passing of another minute.
She tried to calm the rapid beating of her heart as she thought ahead to what they were planning to do that evening.
She shivered as an image of her sister came unbidden to her mind. Prue was s