Magic Graves

whoever it was they wanted to find, I was as good as dead.
    "Put the objects in a row on the bed," I directed Twitchy, ignoring the startled look he gave me. If I acted like a pitiful damsel in distress, then that's how they'd treat me. But if I acted like a vital tool in their search for whomever they wanted these objects to lead them to, I upped my chances for survival.
    At least, I hoped I did.
    "Do it," Jackal said, folding his arms across his chest. His stare felt like weights dropping onto me, but I took in several deep breaths and tried to ignore him. Seeing what Twitchy took out of the duffel bag helped with that.
    A charred piece of fabric, a partially-melted watch, a ring, something that looked like a belt, and a knife that shone with a distinct silvery gleam.
    That last item made my heart skip a beat, something I hoped the others chalked up to nervousness instead of what it was. Excitement . The movies had it all wrong when it came to vampires. Wooden stakes wouldn't harm them, nor would sunlight, crosses, or holy water. But silver through the heart meant the party was over, and now I had a silver knife within grabbing distance.
    Not yet , I warned myself. I'd wait until they were so convinced I was helpless that they wouldn't think twice about leaving a silver knife within easy reach. Or until at least two of them left again, whichever came first.
    "All right," Jackal said, snapping my gaze back to him. He nodded at the objects. "Do your thing."
    I mentally braced myself and then picked up the charred piece of fabric first.
    Smoke was everywhere. Twin beams of light cut through it, landing on the vampire half concealed by the forklift. Terror flooded him as he realized he'd been spotted. Tied into his emotions, I shuddered as well, feeling his horror as his attempt to run was stopped short and rough hands hauled him back.
    At first the smoke was so thick I couldn't see past the bright gaze lasered on me. Then I saw dark hair framing a lean face that had the shadow of stubble around the jaw and mouth. That mouth stretched into a smile that wasn't cruel, as I'd expected, but looked surprisingly good-humored.
    "Raziel," the dark-haired stranger said in a chiding tone. "You shouldn't have."
    I'd heard parents scold their children more harshly, so I didn't expect the torrent of fear that flooded over Raziel.
    "Please," he gasped.
    "Please?" The stranger laughed, revealing white teeth with two distinct upper fangs. "How unoriginal."
    Then he let Raziel go, turning around and waving farewell in a friendly manner. I felt relief overwhelm me to the point that my knees trembled, but Raziel didn't let that stop him. He lunged toward the warehouse door.
    That's when the fire swarmed him, forming out of nowhere. It climbed up his legs in coiling, merciless bands, making me scream from the sudden blast of agony. Raziel tried to run faster, but that only made the fire climb higher. He flung himself onto the floor next, rolling, every nerve ending howling with anguish, but the fire still didn't extinguish. It kept growing, covering him with ruthless, hungry waves, until a roaring blackness rushed up and consumed him. The last thing Raziel saw as he floated above his lifeless body was the dark-haired vampire still walking away, his hands now lit up by flames that somehow didn't scorch his skin.
    I blinked in disbelief. When my eyes opened, I was back in the hotel room curled into the fetal position, much like Raziel had been when he died. I must have instinctively mimicked his actions with the memory of those phantom flames.
    "Well?" Jackal's demanding voice was a relief because it centered me in reality instead of the nightmare I'd been forced to relive. "What did you see?"
    I righted myself on the bed and threw the charred piece of fabric at him.
    "I saw someone named Raziel get Krispy Kremed by a vampire who apparently can control fire," I said, still trying to shake off the echoes of that gruesome death.
    The four of them exchanged a look that could only be described as delighted. "Jackpot!" Psycho exclaimed, pumping his fists into the air.
    From how happy they were, I guessed that either Raziel hadn't been a friend or they already knew what had happened to him and this had been a test.
    "Let's be a hundred percent sure," Jackal said, his grin fading. "Touch the ring next."
    I picked it up, tensing in grim expectation, but a scattershot of images I'd already seen filled my mind. They were still revolting enough to