Contrary to what the government wants everyone to believe, we are not the enemy. Whatever happened, is happening, and probably will happen is not our fault. We are not the evil ones here, no matter what the news wrongfully paints us to be, no matter how the world unfairly perceives us, we are the ones wronged here.
But it won't be long before we have our chance. Not to prove ourselves or claim our innocence; the time for that has long passed. But not the chance for vengeance. That, that gift will soon be ours. He will pay, and he will pay dearly.
The demons are here because of him, because of his fear, his cowardice, his ignorance. He is right to fear us. This time, we take the fight to him.
"Piper," my older sister, Prue, called, momentarily snapping me out of my reverie. I looked down at the entry I was writing and found my hand shaking. The page I was writing in the Book of Shadows was almost full, the uneven handwriting a clear reflection of my dark mood. "It's time." She looked at me grimly, her long blonde hair framing her determined face. She picked up two capped syringes and handed one to me.
Taking the syringe, I closed the Book of Shadows and carried it back to Prue's safe, its official hiding place since the mansion had been destroyed and ransacked by his men. No longer safe in our own house, and using Prue's office in Buckland as our magical storage facility, this is our life now. I shook syringe and watched as the color of the liquid inside turned from a pale lemon yellow to a deep amber shade. And using masking potions to ensure that our identities as witches remain hidden. With a sigh, I uncapped the potion needle and, without batting an eyelash, stabbed the exposed vein on my left arm, pushing the potion in. "Then let's get to work."
I felt Prue's eyes watching me, studying me as she injects herself with the potion.
…
I feel the potion run through my veins like liquid fire, making my left arm spasm. With an effort, I shake the burning feeling off, taking very special care not to accidentally set off my telekinetic power. I watch Piper as she injects herself with the potion; I begin to worry again because she doesn't even so much as flinch as the potion enters her body. She's become tougher, harder, ever since the incident, but then so have I. We all have.
Calling my secretary as I punched in the security code on my wall safe, I cancelled all my appointments for the day and grabbed my car keys. "Hey, Piper, are you okay?"
"Of course, Prue. When have I not been okay?" Piper replied coolly as she put on her black leather jacket; it was one of the jackets we found in the closet Ms. Hellfire, the hitwoman Barbas hired to assassinate us ten years ago.
"Never mind," Definitely harder, but who am I to judge? I brushed my worries aside and focused on the main job at hand; we can't afford to be distracted, not anymore. "According to the scrying crystal, our target is in the northwest perimeter of the cemetery. Do you have the crystals?"
"Right here," she patted the left breast pocket of her jacket, and gave me the thumbs up. "Charged and spelled, and ready to go."
"Potions?"
"Check."
"Wigs and disguises?"
"Check."
"All right, then let's go." We rode the elevator down to the car park in silence, mapping out our strategy in our heads- we were out to set a Lazarus demon free.
