They were lucky enough, after the Jeric and Isis debacle, to have two days of relative peace—no demonic attacks, no new threats. For a while, Phoebe even dared to hope that the tranquil period would hold up until after Piper delivered. The due date the Elders had predicted was only five short days away.
Her hopes shattered that night, when sleep came and the nightmare began. It had changed since she'd had it last; its new form was frightening, and she was almost glad when she felt the premonition take her.
Flash! A campground, cloaked in darkness. She knows this place from her childhood, but she is not seeing campers there now. Two new creatures are facing off. One is a demon; the other, in the form of a wizened old man, she does not recognize.
"Please, don't!" begs the man, but his plea falls on deaf ears. A bolt of electricity leaps from the demon's palm and strikes him, and he explodes into a shower of golden dust.
She gasped and sat bolt upright in bed, shocked to see the Innocent from her premonition standing over her. His hand was closed around hers.
"Help me!" he said urgently. "This is not a dream."
But before she could ask anything of him, he vanished before her eyes.
Yawning, she glanced over at the alarm clock, bright red numerals glowing in the darkness. Five A.M., she thought, dismayed. Too early to be awake.
But between the nightmare and the premonition, there was no way she was going back to sleep. She had a demon to identify, and then all of them had an Innocent to save. I should have known the peace and quiet was too good to last.
Kicking off the covers, she slipped out of bed and got dressed, then padded silently upstairs to the attic and switched on the light before beginning to flip through the Book of Shadows.
"Tracer Demon," she concluded at last, reading the entry. "Lower-level bounty hunters…can track magical prey across dimensions. But then," she wondered aloud, "what was it hunting? And why?"
The answer to the first question, she knew, should yield up the answer to the second. Lifting the Book from the lectern, she dropped heavily onto the sofa and continued turning pages. Twenty minutes later, she found the Innocent archived under 'Sandman.'
Why would a demon want to go after people's dreams? It seemed unnecessary: usually, demons simply killed mortals—or witches—that got in their way. Why bother targeting the Sandmen? "Because people need to dream," she answered herself, remembering her psychology classes. "If they can't, then they can't work out their issues in their sleep."
What the exact effects of that would be, she didn't know. Apparently, however, they were going to find out.
Returning to her room, she dressed and got ready for work—she might as well, since she couldn't go back to sleep—glancing at the clock on her way down to the kitchen. Quarter to six, she noted, pulling the coffee beans out of the freezer and plugging in the machine. This is going to be one of those days.
"Phoebe? What're you doing up this early?"
She looked up and saw Cole standing in the doorway. "I could ask you the same thing," she said around a yawn as she hunted for the machine they used to grind the coffee beans, finally locating it in the cabinet to the left of the one under the sink. "Do you want coffee?"
"Please," he said, sitting down at the table. Then, curiously, "Can't you sleep either?"
She shook her head as she fed a couple of tablespoons of coffee beans into the machine and flipped the switch to turn it on, flinching involuntarily at the sudden noise. "Bad dreams, I guess," she said when the grinding stopped. Dumping the grounds into the coffee machine's compartment, she added water and pressed a couple of buttons. "It should perk in ten minutes or so."
"Thanks," he said, reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "You've been up for a while, haven't you?"
"Since five," she answered. "My nightmare segued into a premonition, and I was in the attic checking the Book until about ten minutes ago."
He looked up sharply, instantly alert. "So, the quiet spell's over?"
"Afraid so," she said ruefully. "As far as I can tell, we've got a Tracer Demon after Sandmen."
"That's got to be part of a larger operation," he said after a moment of pensive silence. "Tracers are lower-level; they don't act independently. So if you saw one Tracer and one target, assume there're more that you didn't."
She nodded. "I did. What I can't figure out is why demons would be interested in devoting so much time and energy to stopping people's dreams. I mean, I know people need to dream, but what happens if they don't?"
"Anger," he said grimly. "If they don't get rid of their emotional burdens in their sleep, it carries over into their waking lives. They end up surly and with hair-trigger tempers."
"How do you know?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Seen it done?"
He shook his head. "This specifically? No. But in a hundred years, I've learned a lot about demons, and one thing about them is that they don't dream." A short pause. "You know what demonic temper's like. I can't say for sure that not dreaming will do the same thing to humans, but it's a decent working theory."
It actually made sense: maybe demons provoked so easily because they never got the full benefit of sleep. "Could you dream?" she asked curiously, getting two mugs out of the cabinet and setting one down in front of him before sinking onto a chair. "When you were half-demon?"
"Only when I slept in human form," he said. "But I figured out fairly young that I could think more clearly during the day if I stayed out of my demonic shape at night."
The kitchen was beginning to fill with the rich, dark aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Rising, she brought the pot to the table, grabbing a trivet on the way by the counter. Piper would kill her if she burned a ring into the table. "Do you still take sugar?" she asked.
He nodded, but raised a staying hand. "I can get it," he said. "You sit." He stood up and located the sugar bowl, setting it down next to the coffee pot before returning to the fridge for the milk.
Even after all these months, he remembered that she didn't like her coffee dark. "Thank you," she said as he sat back down and passed her the carton. "I can just tell this is going to be one of those days I get through entirely on caffeine…between work and this new Innocent, not to mention Piper's due date so close…"
"I still can't believe you and Paige are going to deliver the baby," he said, stirring a teaspoon of sugar into his coffee. "Piper seems like the type to want a by-the-book hospital delivery, especially since he's going to be so premature."
"If she could have a hospital birth, she would," Phoebe told him, adding milk and sugar to her own mug and wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic. "But that's really not an option, considering the little guy's going to come out wrapped in swaddling orbs."
"So it's a 'secrecy of magic' issue," he surmised. "I bet Piper just loves that."
"Like a hole in the head," Phoebe confirmed with a wry grin. "To tell you the truth, I'd push for a hospital birth, too, in her place. But with a half-Whitelighter baby…"
"Did your mother have Paige at home?" he asked over the rim of the coffee cup, swallowing.
"She must have," Phoebe answered, sipping her own coffee, making a face, and adding another spoonful of sugar. Much better. "But Paige wasn't a preemie…Mom wouldn't have had to worry about the same health risks."
"With any luck, neither will Piper," he said. "And even if there are problems, I'm sure the Elders would let Leo heal her or the baby if it's needed." A short pause. "Or at least, they couldn't stop him."
No, they couldn't do anything. Not until after the fact, anyway, she thought. "You never know with them," she said. "Sometimes it's okay to bend the rules; sometimes it's not. And when it's not, Leo's the one who pays for it. He hasn't had it easy, trying to balance his career with Piper and the baby."
"He's willing to fight for the people he loves," Cole said, draining the coffee mug. "We don't always see eye-to-eye, but I can relate to that." He rose and took the mug over to the sink, rinsing it out. "Is the dishwasher empty, or should I leave it?"
"Leave it in the sink," she said, finishing her own coffee and placing hers there. "The dishwasher's still running from last night. One of us will put the dishes away and load it again when it's done." Stepping back from the sink, she looked up at him. "By the way, you never did tell me—what has you up so early?"
"It's nothing; just a nightmare," he said with a shrug, not quite meeting her eyes. "I figured, as long as I was up…"
She nodded and let the matter drop. He was being evasive, and they both knew it, but if he wanted to keep his bad dream to himself, that was his business. It was fine with her—she didn't want to talk about hers with him, either. "Any plans for the day?" she asked, returning to small talk.
"I thought I'd write up my resignation from the firm," he said.
"Can you afford to do that?"
"Financially, you mean?" he asked. "Phoebe, I don't need a job. I just like the sense of purpose I get out of it. However, my 'sense of purpose' needs are all fulfilled"—he triggered the deflection briefly by way of demonstration—"so I'm not going back. Which is just as well," he added musingly, "considering that I probably won't be welcome there after I tried to strangle my secretary early last week."
She did a double take and spun to face him. "You what?" she demanded.
"Easy," he said placatingly. "I was hallucinating at the time, remember? Seeing enemies everywhere?"
She released her breath in a long sigh and relaxed. As long as he didn't do it on purpose. "Right," she said, and then let a teasing note creep into her tone. "Did you send her 'sorry I tried to strangle you' flowers, too?"
"Not funny," he said, but couldn't suppress a grin. "If I never have to shock another florist with that, it'll be too soon."
"Just as well," she said lightly, just managing not to laugh as she thought of what the poor florist must have thought when Cole had had that same message sent to her a few weeks ago. "So, you're going to try doing the witch thing full-time?"
"I thought I would," he said. "Why?"
"Just that we've all done that at some point," she explained, sitting back down at the table and pulling out the chair beside hers for him. "And eventually—believe me on this one—you're gong to want something in your life that has nothing to do with magic."
"I see," he said, sitting down next to her and holding her gaze. "About how long does that take?"
"Depends on the person, I think," she said with a shrug. "But the point is that you have to have something in your life that's normal. Piper has her family, Paige has her social work—"
"We have this," he interrupted, reaching forward to take her hand. "Us. And eventually, we'll have a family, too. Normal enough?"
"Yes," she said with a smile, her free hand moving as though unbidden to trace the symbol of that promise, gleaming in the hollow of her throat. "Definitely normal enough." It wasn't time, not now, not yet. But someday, not so far in the future, they would have their happily-ever-after.
She was just about to lean forward to kiss him when Paige's voice broke in and ruined the moment. "Do you need a room?"
"No," she said, turning around to face her sister. "Glad you're up. Coffee?"
"Sure," Paige said tiredly, yawning and heading toward the cabinet for a mug. "But what're you doing up at this ungodly hour?"
"It's quarter to seven," Cole said as she sat down, passing the coffee pot across the table. "That's not nearly as bad as you're making it sound." He turned his attention back to Phoebe. "Want to go wake up Piper and Leo?"
"Piper's five days from delivery," Paige said, pouring milk and an unhealthy amount of sugar into her coffee and stirring vigorously. "And she's cranky about it. It might be a better idea to let her sleep."
"Fine. Just Leo, then," Phoebe said. "I hate to say it, but it might be better to check and see what the Elders know about what's going on before we make any plans."
"Not them again," Cole complained, reaching up to rub his temples as though just thinking about the Elders gave him a headache. "They're just a bunch of pompous, useless bureau—"
"Shh!" Paige hissed, cutting him off. "They might hear you, and we do not need to piss them off."
Cole's eyes widened in surprise. "You're telling me that they spy on you?"
"Well, no," Phoebe assured him. "They only listen in when we say something that attracts their attention. Like how Piper had to use the word 'rutabaga' instead of 'wedding' when she and Leo were trying to elope without them finding out?"
"I don't think I was around for that," he said, looking blank for a minute; then comprehension crossed his face. "Was it during that eclipse?"
She nodded, and he suddenly looked guilty. "I was sort of the reason the Elders found out about that," he confessed. "It was before I started working with good, but—"
She held up a staying hand, cutting him off. "You don't have to explain," she told him. "I can make a pretty good guess. You told the Triad, and they told the Elders?"
He nodded.
"Whatever you do, do not ever tell Piper that," Phoebe warned him. "She may not be able to blow us up, but you're fair game." She was only half-joking.
"Duly noted," he said dryly.
"This was before me, right?" Paige asked her.
"A little less than a year, I think," Phoebe said, rising. "I'm going to go wake Leo up—Cole, can you just fill Paige in on the demon of the day?" Without waiting for his answer, she turned and went upstairs, knocking on Piper and Leo's bedroom door. "Leo?" she called softly. "Leo?"
Orb-lights glittered, and her brother-in-law appeared beside her.
"You could have used the door, you know," she pointed out, amused.
"Orbing when a charge calls me is reflexive," Leo explained, yawning. "I honestly didn't think of walking." Then, remembering that she had called him, he shifted instantly into Whitelighter-mode, all concern. "What's the matter?"
"I had a premonition about two hours ago," she said. "I need you to orb Up There and ask the Elders what they know about Sandmen being targeted by Tracer Demons."
He nodded and obediently orbed out, and Phoebe returned to the kitchen. "Leo's gone Up There to check with the Elders," she reported, sitting back down. "Assuming they give us the go-ahead, what's the plan? Orb over and wait for the Tracer Demon to show up?"
"We're going to have to," Paige said. "We don't have anything to scry for him with, and we can't pull the 'summon-and-vanquish' routine, either." She started to rise, then paused. "Mind if I bring the Book down here?"
"It's fine," Phoebe assured her.
"Thanks," she said, and extended her arms. "Book of Shadows!" Instantly, it appeared in a cascade of orb-lights, and she paged it open. "I'll look up a vanquishing potion for the Tracer and get started on it," she said.
Phoebe opened her mouth to say they wouldn't need one—after all, they had Piper—then realized it might be better if her older sister stayed off her feet. "You're right," she said instead. "Piper can't move as fast as she used to, and we might have to run." She looked up at the clock. Seven. "I'd better get to work," she said apologetically. "If I might have to rush out, it'll sit better with Elise if I get there early."
"About when do we need to get going?" Paige asked.
"The attack was at night," she supplied, checking her pocket for her car keys, "so maybe we should get in position around sunset. Just call me if you need me, okay?" Bending down, she gave Cole a quick kiss, then hurried out of the kitchen, shrugging into her coat on her way out the front door.
Once she arrived at the Bay Mirror, it was all too easy to see that the attacks on the Sandmen were having an effect. Elise handed out no fewer than three assignments involving assault, and two of Phoebe's co-workers got into a knock-down-drag-out fight over which of them was supposed to cover a particular story. She ducked into her office, grateful to shut her door on the noise, and picked up the phone to call home.
"Any word from Up There?" she asked when Paige answered. "Everyone here is acting crazy—I've got two colleagues outside literally wrestling on the floor over a story." Sitting down at her desk, she glanced at her inbox, stacked full of letters from readers. Would Elise let her take them home? She might be able to plead distraction…it was awfully noisy outside her office…
"Leo just got back a couple minutes ago," Paige said. "The Elders have confirmed that we have to go save the Sandmen, and I've got a vanquishing potion simmering on the stove. Just get through your day, and we'll go ahead tonight as planned." There was a brief pause, and Phoebe could hear Piper's voice in the background, angry.
"Sorry to cut this short," Paige said at last, "but I've gotta go help Leo convince Piper to sit this one out. Bye!" Click.
Setting the phone back in its cradle, Phoebe sighed, hit the button to boot up her computer, and picked the first letter up from her inbox, trying to ignore the sounds of fighting outside. We're going to have to fix this, she thought, skimming the letter as she clicked the word processor open. And fast. If it's like this all over the city…
That was not an idea she wanted to dwell on.
When she returned home hours later, the sun was beginning to set, and Paige had transferred the vanquishing potion into vials. She pocketed several and went upstairs to find her sisters.
"For the last time, Piper, you're not going, and that's that!" came Paige's exasperated voice from Piper and Leo's bedroom. "We settled this, remember? You're five days from delivering and shouldn't be running around!"
She knocked on the door, then opened it without waiting for an answer. "Hey," she greeted them, sitting down on the bed next to Piper. "The sun's nearly down. If we're going to save that Sandman, we should get moving. Where's Cole?" she asked, noting his absence.
"In the conservatory, I think," Leo said. He didn't look annoyed, as Paige did, but he did seem tired. "He got fed up and left when Piper insisted she was going to go for…the third time, was it?"
"Watch it, honey," Piper said testily, narrowing her eyes. "And I still think—"
"This is going to be a quick, in and out, lower-level demon vanquish," Phoebe interrupted. "Save your energy for something bigger. We don't need the whole Power of Three to orb in and throw a potion." She reached back to fluff her sister's pillow. "Stay here, watch your soaps, and enjoy the magical maternity leave, okay? We'll be back soon."
Piper scowled, disgruntled, but made no further protests. Catching Paige's eye, Phoebe nodded towards the door. Come on, she thought. Before she changes her mind again.
Paige got the tacit message and rose, leading the way out. "Do you have the potions?" she asked.
"I grabbed three on my way upstairs," she said, pulling one out of her pocket and pressing it into her sister's hand. "It's never a bad idea to take extras. Can you wait just a second? I want to double-check the entry on Sandmen before we go. The Book's still in the kitchen?"
"Should be," Paige said. "I left it there when I was finished brewing the potion."
Phoebe nodded and went in, finding Cole paging through the Book at the table. Hearing her footsteps, he closed it and turned around. "Time to go?"
"Wait a minute, you're going?" Paige demanded, joining them. "We don't really need more than two for this—"
"I could use the practice," he cut in, rising. "I'll never be able to hone my control over the deflection if I don't go out and use it. Besides," he added, coming to stand next to Phoebe, "I hate sitting at home and waiting."
"Let him go," Phoebe said, cutting off her sister's protest. "We don't have time to argue."
"Fine," Paige conceded grudgingly, handing Cole a vial of the vanquishing potion and taking Phoebe's hand. "We're just going to vanquish the Tracer and come home. That's it. So try not to get in the way, and don't do anything stupid. North State Campground, right?" she asked Phoebe.
Phoebe nodded and slipped her free hand into Cole's, and Paige orbed them out of the manor.
A/N: A little premature for a Thursday update, but I'm under the weather this week and going to bed early, so the posting-at-midnight thing I usually do isn't going to happen. Thanks again to all fifty-two of my generous reviewers; your comments have given me more happiness than you can possibly imagine. That said, I'd really love your insights on this latest installment—one or two specific points would be excellent (not that I'd mind a longer review in the slightest). By the way, if you have a question about the story in your review and want a reply, please leave a signed review so I can reply via PM. (Also note: the longer the review, the longer the reply…and I'm not above dropping a hint or two regarding my future plans for the tale on request.)