SIX
Paige opened her eyes and looked around. She was lying on a small bed in a very small room. Besides the bed the room held a small desk with a couple of chairs, a television, a radio, another door that was partially opened and appeared to lead to a small bathroom, and two other doors that were closed. One of the doors had a lock on it. Sitting in one of the chairs was a man dressed in a suit looking through a folder. He looked up as Paige sat up in the bed.
"Good, you're awake," said the man. "You've been out quite a while. I told them they were using too much of the tranquilizer but they didn't want to take any chances."
"Where am I?" Paige asked. "Who are you?"
"My name is Jeremiah Wellington," said the man. "You're in a private room at a secluded location. Oh, and I wouldn't mess with the collar around your neck."
Paige reached up and found a metal collar attached to her neck.
"What is this?" she asked.
"Call it a deterrent, "said Wellington. "If you try to disappear like you did on the street or if you get more than ten feet from this room, it will detonate."
"Detonate?" Paige questioned. "You put a bomb around my neck?"
"A necessary precaution, I'm afraid," said Wellington. "You see we don't quite know how you do what you do. So it was necessary to take some precautions so that you don't disappear on us."
"Where are my sisters?" Paige demanded.
"They're fine," said Wellington. "They're in similar rooms like this one. I'll be interviewing them shortly. Oh, and Mr. Wyatt is fine, too. Trust me, none of you are in any danger so long as you follow the rules."
"Not in any danger?" Paige shrieked. "You break into our house, drug us, drag us off to God knows where, and you say we aren't in any danger? Just who the hell do you think you are, anyway? And what gives you the right to treat us this way?"
"This gives me the right," said Wellington, putting a folded piece of paper on the desk. "This is a legally issued court order allowing me to take the four of you into protective custody."
"Protective custody?" Paige asked. "Since when you treat people in protective custody like common criminals? I do know a little something about the law. We haven't done anything wrong. We haven't broken any laws. You don't have the right to treat us like this."
"This gives me the right," said Wellington, holding up the warrant. "And you're in protective custody for reasons of national security."
"National security?" Paige asked. "Just who are you anyway?"
"I'm in charge of this cell," said Wellington. "There are a number of them scattered across the United States. We're called The Initiative. And our job is to protect the American people from supernatural threats. You know the kind. Vampires, demons, warlocks, that sort of thing."
"You're joking, right?" Paige asked, feigning ignorance. "Those things don't exist."
"Please, don't insult my intelligence," said Wellington, looking in the folder. "Paige Matthews. Born August 1977. Adopted by William and Melissa Matthews shortly thereafter. Adopted parents killed in a car accident in 1990, which you miraculously survived. Discovered long lost sisters Piper and Phoebe Halliwell in May 2001. You work as an assistant social worker for the Bay Area Social Services. Known abilities are some form of modified telekinetic ability and some form of teleportation. Have I missed anything?"
"You forgot moody, sullen, and prone to tell people to take a flying leap," said Paige. "Look, I don't know what you think you know…."
Wellington just turned and turned on the television. He started a videotape and Paige watched in horror. As she watched the tape, she saw herself standing next to Darryl on the street. She held out her hand and the gun from the police officer suddenly orbed into her hand. The she saw herself look toward the camera, shove the gun into Darryl's hand, and turn and run around the corner of a building.
"This was taken just a moment later," said Wellington.
Paige watched herself come around the corner of a building. She glanced around furtively and then orbed out of the street. Wellington shut the tape off.
"Just some kind of special effects, that's all," said Paige.
"Please, Ms. Matthews," said Wellington, "this will go much easier if you just cooperate."
"Cooperate how?" Paige asked.
"First," said Wellington, "we have determined that you are a witch. As are your sisters, apparently. We aren't sure just what Mr. Wyatt is. But analysis of his blood indicates he's not quite human. We also know you're acquainted with one Cole Turner, although his whereabouts at the moment are unknown. Mr. Turner seems to have the ability to appear and disappear like you do."
"You're imagining things," said Paige. "This is all some figment of your warped imagination."
"Really?" Wellington asked. "Then would you care to explain the book in the attic of the manor? A book that no one seems to be able to touch. The Book of Shadows, I believe it's called. Not to mention the myriad of very odd ingredients Piper Halliwell seems to have in her kitchen. Not cooking ingredients to be sure. Our best guess is they're used for potions and elixirs and such."
Paige just stared at Wellington. He seemed to know almost everything about them. And what's more, it didn't seem to surprise him. If this Initiative was what he claimed it was then it was a good bet that he was familiar with a great many supernatural things.
"What do you want from me?" Paige asked.
"First, some answers," said Wellington. "We know a great deal but there is also a lot we don't know. All I'm asking at this stage is that you answer my questions so we can know more fully what we're dealing with."
"And then what?" Paige asked.
"As I said," said Wellington, "this is a matter of national security. We've known about the existence of demons, witches, and a great many other supernatural things for quite some time. The Initiative is responsible for combating the evil supernatural beings that seem to prey on humans.
"We also know that as a witch, you aren't evil. Your job is to protect the innocent and fight evil wherever you may find it. That's what we're offering you. The chance to fight whatever evil you come across with the full resources of The Initiative behind you."
"We do okay on our own," said Paige.
"Oh, yes, I can see that," said Wellington. "Patricia Halliwell, your mother, apparently died fighting a demon just after you were born. Prudence Halliwell died under mysterious circumstances. And the reported cause of her death, congestive heart failure, seems to be quite inaccurate. I'm offering you a chance to fight evil and lessen the risk of dying in the process."
"So, if I agree, I'll be free to go?" Paige asked. "And my sisters, too?"
"I'm afraid we can't do that," said Wellington. "You'll be kept here under protective custody where you'll be safe. You'll help us identify supernatural threats to the American people and devise ways to stop them. But I'm afraid your days of fighting on your own are over. It's just too dangerous."
"And if I refuse?" Paige asked. "What then? You just lock us up where no one will ever find us again?"
"No," said Wellington. "You're much too dangerous for that. There would always be the chance that you might escape. No, I'm afraid if you refuse we won't have any alternative. You would have to be segregated for reasons of national security."
"Segregated?" Paige questioned. "That's a fancy way of saying killed."
For reasons of national security, as I said," said Wellington. "I'll give you some time to think it over. I know this is a great deal for you to take in. I'm sure you'll make the right decision."
Without another word, Wellington got up and left the room. As he exited, Paige noticed two armed guards stand outside her room