Magic Graves

devil you know is better than the one you don't. Maybe that was true, but considering what Jackal and the others had planned for me, I was going with Option B. It gave me better odds than trying to fight off four vampires with one puny knife - which Jackal had taken with him, I noticed. Must not want to risk me attempting suicide, although what I was about to do might turn out to be the equivalent of that.
    There wasn't time for me to second guess my decision, so I picked up the charred piece of fabric and Raziel's death washed over me again. As usual, the impressions were fainter, the first touch always producing the most intense experience.
    I pushed past Raziel's tortuous last moments to latch onto the firestarter's essence. What had been a thread before now felt like a rope because of my previous connection, so I grabbed it and pulled with all my might. My dingy surroundings fell away, replaced by a huge room with soaring ceilings, elegant furniture, and tapestries on every wall. It wasn't empty; two men stood in front of a fireplace that was big enough to fit both of them. I saw with relief that one of them was the firestarter, and the other a brawny African American who was shaking his head.
    "Of course I don't think you're joking, but it still doesn't seem possible -"
    "Shhh!" the firestarter hissed. Very slowly, his head turned. When those burnished copper eyes seemed to land on me, I fought my instinct to drop the link and run like hell.
    "Oh, it's too late for you to run," he said coldly.
    The words slammed into me, shocking me. I'd hoped with a little time - and a lot of luck - I could send him specific messages. It never occurred to me that the firestarter could read my mind as soon as I established a link. What kind of creature was he?
    "A dangerous one you shouldn't have trifled with," was his response. "Whoever you are, rest assured that I will find you."
    Fear paralyzed my mind. He was pissed, and I'd seen what he did to people when he looked to be in a good mood.
    His friend glanced around. "Who are you -?"
    "Quiet," the firestarter said. "Leave."
    The brawny man walked out of my sight without another word. The firestarter stayed in front of the enormous hearth, those orange and yellow flames growing as if they longed to reach him through the screen.
    "Quit calling me firestarter, it's insulting. You're spying on me, so you know who I am."
    "I don't," I said aloud, then cursed myself. If Jackal heard me and came to investigate, I might not be able to resist a second dose of his gaze before I spilled the truth.
    Look, you've got me all wrong , I thought rapidly, hoping his antennae into my head hadn't lost its signal. I have no idea who you are, but four vampires kidnapped me and they're forcing me to locate you for them.
    "Oh?" Amusement replaced the former harshness in his expression. "If that's true, I'll make it easy on you. I'm at my home. Tell the others to drop by anytime."
    Flames coated his hands with the words, a warning I didn't need because I was terrified of him already. That fear combined with the death Jackal had planned for me made my reply snappy.
    That's great, but I'm not only supposed to find out where you are now. I'm supposed to find out where you'll be in the future, and I'm guessing you won't be as flip about that.
    His brows drew together at once, making those coppery green eyes all the more riveting - and frightening.
    "You can see the future?" All traces of humor left his expression.
    I heaved a mental sigh. How to explain an ability I didn't fully understand?
    If I touch someone - or an object with a strong emotional essence on it - I catch glimpses of things. If the glimpses are in black and white, they're from the past. If they're in color but hazy, they're from the future. And if I concentrate, I can trace someone's essence from an object to find that person in the present, which looks clear and normal to me. That's how I found you. Jackal gave me pieces of things from people you killed.
    He continued to stare at me until I squirmed. Aside from it being unbelievable that he could hear me, he seemed able to see me, too! How? I wasn't there, after all.
    "I don't see you like you're thinking," he answered, a tight smile playing about his lips. "You're a voice in my head, but when I concentrate, it's though you're here yet you're invisible."
    That sounded creepy. I didn't have time to ponder it, because he went on.
    "Someone named Jackal is after me? I don't recognize the