Page 9 of Mystic Mate

“Hey, boss, do we have any kind of astral or night sky maps from Far Pointe?”

“Hello, Charlie. How are you? How’s the family? How’s Chris?”

Salem laughed. “I know. Polite conversation is not my strong suit. Knowing that, do we have anything?”

Charlie laughed harder. “The short answer is no. You have with you our entire knowledge of what we received from Far Pointe. Why, have you figured out anything?”

“Not really, but I was fiddling around with it…”

“Is that a technical term?” Charlie teased.

She really did like Charlie. “Very technical. Anyway, I was messing with it—another highly technical term—and this light beam came out of it. Doesn’t seem to be like a destructive laser beam. I passed a piece of paper through it and a couple of other things before using my hand, and nothing. Even when I held my hand in front of it, my hand didn’t even get warm. So, I set it down, pointing it up while I got a Diet Coke. When I came back in, the light had fractured and there was a definite pattern being displayed on the ceiling. I’m wondering if I had a map of the night sky and pointed the sphere’s beam at it, would I get a geo-location.”

“You are fucking brilliant. Wait. Are you going to punch me for using inappropriate language?”

“As long as you don’t try and grab any of my girlie bits, you should be safe.”

“Good to know. Like I said, we were given the sphere and nothing else. Every time I ask, I get shut down. Frankly, no one but you, me, and Chris know you have it. But my brother-in-law works for NASA or something like it. I have a vague idea where Far Pointe is. It’s not perfect…”

“But it’s a start. If you can send me a file, I can have it printed.”

“Better if I send you a map and get a printer sent to you.”

“Got it. Soon as I get the map, I’ll start trying to figure it out. Make sure you give me an idea where I’m starting from.”

Two days later, she had the map taped on the ceiling and moved the sphere under it. Sure enough, by using the map and a database of stars, she was able to make some educated guesses about where the sphere was pointing. Charlie was right—she was fucking brilliant.

Now, as she hiked along the ridgeline, she reminded herself that maybe she wasn’t quite as brilliant as she thought. She’d narrowed it down to five locations, the first two of which had been a bust. There had been nothing to see. Nothing. But the third possible location had sent her here. It had been a bumpy and long drive in her SUV with an ATV on a trailer being hauled behind her. The ATV itself was not known for its smooth ride, but now she was where she thought she ought to be. It appeared to be a ghost town from the eighteenth or nineteenth century.

Salem pushed down the simultaneous feelings of dread and excitement warring inside her. Here she was on her first big assignment for the SPU, and she couldn't decide whether to squeal with glee or throw up. Of course, there was nothing to say she couldn’t do both. She began searching the buildings one by one but knew a search of this magnitude could take days, if not weeks or even longer.

And she didn’t even really know what she was searching for. Something to link them to the Shadow League… or vampires?

The sphere was tucked safely away in her rucksack, and she felt it begin to vibrate. Salem pulled it out and held it in her hand. Experimenting with it, she found it would vibrate with more or less urgency depending on where she moved. She discovered that it vibrated more as she got closer to an abandoned hotel.

Placing it back in her backpack, she pulled out her gun and made sure it was ready to fire. The sphere was vibrating hard enough that she could easily feel it even though it was back in her backpack.

Moving through the old hotel, she could tell that it hadn’t seen human activity since it had been abandoned along with the rest of the town. But could the vampires be using it? Would they leave a trace? It was hard to tell, as she knew so little about them.

Salem began to venture up the stairs, and the sphere reduced its vibration. Damn. She’d been afraid of that. She moved down a set of stairs off the kitchen, which led into the bowels of the hotel—a deep, dank basement. She stood outside a gated door, which most likely led to some kind of tunnel. One part of her said she needed to go back to Kenai and get some kind of backup, but the other part wanted to go on—wanted to see what was on the other side.

She withdrew three of the six stakes she’d brought with her, securing two to her waist on her belt and holding the other in the hand that held the butt of her gun. If, as she suspected, there was a nest of vampires hidden here, she might be risking death or something even worse. She began to carefully open the gate and then the door. If she was right about vampires being there, the sphere could well be some kind of map that identified the locations of vampires. She just needed to get in and out without being discovered, and then they would be able to use the sphere more effectively in the future.

Once the tunnel was open, she turned on the special, small flashlight attached to the underside of her gun and began creeping down the tunnel. She didn’t need to root out the vampires today all by herself; all she needed to do was confirm or disprove the existence of a nest at this location.

Salem had come prepared. She had Mr. Pointy and all of his friends, as well as a torch that could ignite at the flip of a switch. It didn’t just provide light, it provided fire, and vampires could be destroyed with fire. Warrick had confirmed that for her.

She swung the gun and flashlight back and forth slowly as she made her way down the tunnel. It was apparent that while the upstairs had shown no visible signs of anyone walking around, the tunnel sure as hell did. It was obvious that a group had been using the tunnel recently and, as she studied the ground, often.

About ten yards in, the tunnel took a turn. Once she’d negotiated the turn safely, she turned off the flashlight. All along one wall, there were votives—not all that frequent or large, but they were burning. After another thirty-five yards or so, Salem realized the air was becoming fresher, less stale. Moving silently, she began to hear the low murmur of voices.

As the voices grew more distinguishable, the light became stronger. She needed to hear what they were saying. As the tunnel widened and got larger, the light source—whatever it was—became stronger and brighter. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to remain safely hidden if she wanted to get close enough to hear what they were saying.

Again, she told herself to creep back the way she came and get backup. But what if they moved on? What if whatever they were planning with the Shadow League was further along than anyone believed? As she crept closer, her boot scuffed along the hard floor and a loose stone rolled away from her. Salem froze in her tracks, ensuring her breathing was imperceptible. It was no good; the voices fell silent.

Fuck. She was discovered.

Whirling on her heel, Salem charged back the way she came, not bothering to try and hide her movements. Not once did she glance back over her shoulder, although the urge to do so was strong. One of the things she learned at Quantico was that people being chased often tripped or stumbled if they didn’t keep their eyes on where they were going. Whoever was chasing you was either gaining or not and the last thing you wanted to do was lose time or possibly injure yourself by taking a fall.

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