Disclaimer: I don't own charmed, only characters of my own imagination. I mean no copy right infringement, yada yada yada…

Author's Note: I'm sorry that this is a short chapter. I just really wanted to add on to the story and wanted to add to some of the plots that are already going on. It's kind of a tease.

Chapter 10- An Angel's Voice

San Francisco was storming, the skies taking their tempers out on the beings below with loud crackling lightening and down showers; winds howling as leaves were tempest tossed. It was as if the Gods were punishing their subjects with a wrath that shook the very ground they stood upon.

In the underworld, a plot was being put in motions the like of which had never been seen before in the history of western magic. As America was a baby compared to the rest of the world, so was the magical history of its lands even though it originated from all over the world. While evil had tried many a time — usually unsuccessful—to gain the upper hand, the coming of the Charmed ones had nearly decimated their ranks. Now it seemed that evil had finally found its footing, and it had found its target.

It had been a week since the family barbecue and the Halliwell's had managed to track down their old friend Derek. He arrived at the house one day in the early afternoon and felt a rush of memories of his past self, reminded that he had once been hopeful and optimistic.

Derek didn't know the exact reason for this invitation but he could guess. It was Jude, his son who had once been his joy and pride. He had believed that loving nurture and discipline could help to make his son a good and decent human being, hoping that his demon nature would become dormant. For the first twenty-two years of his life it had seemed to work.

Derek just didn't know what was wrong with the boy. The past year had seemed to prove that Jude had grown into a caring and compassionate man. In fact, Derek had suspected his son had found love, changing from a funny and caring boy to a loving and peaceful man. Though he couldn't get his son to open his mouth about this mystery girl, Derek suspected she must be an angel to make his carefree son into a love sick puppy. But three months ago things started to change with Derek. He started wearing darker clothes, his clean shaven look became scruffy and dark and suddenly his comedic and light hearted son had been replaced with a cynical and cruel shadow of the person Jude had once been.

Derek had come to the conclusion that the mystery girl must have broken his heart, but when Jude's behavior became more defiant and violent in nature, Derek knew that the other side of his son was surfacing. He could only hope that the Charmed ones would be able to save his son.

Melinda sat up in bed, panting for air as she woke up from a nightmare. She turned to stare at Cal next to her, who had been sharing her bed for the past week. He had been giddy from the news that they were expecting their first child, and she was terrified that she might never get to hold her child in her arms. Terrified by the dark visions of her dreams.

Melinda crossed her arms and hugged herself. The night air had become chilled and she was covered in goose bumps where her black racer back midriff didn't cover her arms. Throwing back the covers she padded across the hard wood flooring and left the bedroom. When she entered the kitchen she took out a pitcher of her Aunt Phoebe's special tea; a mixture of herbs and spices that were calming and had a soothing effect on its drinker. At times like these Melinda wanted her mother, the mother that she had never really known except for fleeting memories that were probably only figments of her imagination. As of yet, she hadn't been allowed to see her mother.

She knew that eventually she would have to speak up to her family about her visions. They would need to prepare for battle. But Melinda wanted to do some investigating first, needing to shield her family for as soon as possible.

Thoughts and memories kept taunting him, resurfacing quickly and harshly. Jude didn't know what was going on but he was haunted by the images of events he hadn't recognized. He had no idea what was going on lately. The desire to kill and feed was over powering him. Lust for Julie had led him down a dark and twisting road, one he had no control over and could only follow. It was like a poison seeping through his veins, one that buried his memories of the angel's voice.

Hers was a soft raspy voice that the wind seemed to carry. It was tormenting him. He couldn't fight through the urges hard as he tried. His visions blurred and obscured by Julie's magic. He knew that if he could follow the voice in his mind that he might find safety. While Jude could feel the effects of Julie's magic slowly wearing off, it still had control over him. If the angel could just keep singing, it would surely guide him back to where he was supposed to be.

Poppy sat in an antique rocking chair she had found in the attic of the manor. She had taken it for the baby's room, wanting to pass on pieces of her family's history to her child; her daughter. She was just about five months pregnant and her parents were being so supportive and helping her and Parker look for a bigger apartment for next year, a three bedroom that they could paint and decorate.

Poppy wanted to paint the room a mint green, with pink, purple and yellow accents. Her uncle Leo had already started on a crib for her that was sleek and modern, and would be painted black. Aunt Piper had already began making home made bedding in her chosen colors, and had found the perfect print fabric, that was green with medium pink and purple polka dots, the bed skirt would be have thin vertical crème, mint and black colored stripes. Aunt Phoebe and Mom had already bought so many outfits and blankets, buying baby monitors and kits that contained nail clippers, a thermometer and such. At the rate the family was going, there would be no need for a baby shower.

Poppy only hoped that she would be able to keep her baby safe. So far her aunts and cousins had collectively cloaked her and the baby, going so far to put an alarm in all of the houses. The only time Poppy was ever alone was when she came to her room to sing to her baby. Her voice, sweet and sultry seemed to carry on the wind as she sang a lullaby to her daughter. In her heart she knew that she sang it to her love too. She missed him terribly though he had betrayed her.

Poppy rocked back and forth in the rocker, the light creating a glistening sheen on her hair, exposing her highlights. She was beginning to lose hope for the revival of her love. Once the most loving and tender man she had ever met, now hurtful and cruel. What had turned him?

Patricia was at her weekly meeting at the pagan bookstore she frequently attended. The circle had just ended and everyone was mingling. She headed toward the stacks and began looking through books of gypsy magic. Out of all the cousins she was the most interested in branching out. Already she had began her scholarly pursuits of global mythology and other types of magic, hoping to increase her knowledge and ability. Engrossed in her book, she only became aware of the person behind her when she felt hot air on her neck. Though she usually would have been revolted by this, she found this encounter different somehow. Enticing. A shiver traveled up her spine. Turning, she found a boy maybe a year or two older than herself, with dark brown hair and stunning blue eyes. He was muscular and toned, emanating not only physical strength but a keen intelligence and strong magic she was surprised she hadn't felt before.

"Hello," he said in a deep voice. "I'm Gabriel Valentine."