CHAPTER ONE

For three days, Jade Collins had done little except run from the police, demonic assassins, and the cult of Devil Worshippers who considered her their property. Apparently, murdering her parents had put her on a lot of people's hit lists.

Night had blurred into day, then night, then back again as she continued moving forward, never stopping for more than a couple of minutes here or there to catch her breath, use the bathroom, and grab a snack or drink to keep herself from collapsing.

The cult no longer appeared to be on her trail, and the cops couldn't cross state lines. She could probably handle any demons that came her way. Jade didn't know where she was, but as she took a moment to gaze up at the crescent moon that was shining overhead, she finally felt like it might be safe to stop and rest for a little while.

It was extremely quiet in this unknown town. It seemed like no one hung around outside at nearly midnight here, unlike where Jade was from. She missed Manhattan already. The still, quiet nature of this place was eerie and made her feel exposed. In New York, at least she could blend in and vanish into a crowd when she needed to go unnoticed.

"I need to sleep," Jade mumbled. She'd pushed her body constantly for too many days in a row. Even coffee only did so much when someone was exhausted.

She hadn't had time to come up with a plan before she fled. The cult she'd grown up in would surely sacrifice her for killing her parent, even if she'd had a good reason. The police would lock her up and throw away the key. She knew she had to flee everything she'd ever known if she wanted to have any hope of surviving. She'd grabbed an oversized shoulder bag with a few essentials before she started running, not sure where she was going, or what she'd do when she got there. Now, she finally took a moment to catch her breath.

The architecture of the neighborhood was unique and colorful. Jade searched for several minutes before she found an old grey house that was under construction. She was surprised to find that the back door was unlocked. With limited options for shelter, Jade decided she couldn't be picky. She headed into the basement of the house. It felt empty in the way only abandoned houses did, and she decided it should be safe enough to spend the night there. When the sun came up, she'd figure out where she was and decide what to do from there.

She curled up in a corner, wrapping her jacket around her body tightly and using her bag as a pillow. Exhaustion won out and she soon fell asleep.

Her dreams immediately turned to nightmares. Flashes of River forced their way into her mind. She watched in horror as her best friend was sacrificed before her eyes while she couldn't do anything to help him.

The nightmare shifted. Joey stared at her with his vibrant blue eyes that had always been too wise for a baby. He reached toward her before fading away. Jade tried to grab him, but he was gone. She was alone.

That was too much. She began sobbing in her sleep.

Don't think about them, Jade scolded herself. You lost them. It's over. You can't change it.

She forced herself to look away from the place where Joey had been. The dream soon shifted again. Jade's parents were suddenly staring at her accusingly. She resisted the urge to scream as their eyes seemed to burn a hole in her soul.

Something startled Jade awake, freeing her from the nightmare. She opened the jade green eyes that she had been named for before sitting up and looking around the basement.

Everything appeared to be completely normal. The basement looked empty, but the hairs on Jade's arm were standing on edge. Something wasn't right.

"Papa!" A little girl's voice suddenly called. "Papa, help!"

"Hello?" Jade called cautiously. She couldn't see anyone yet, but she understood now that this house had never been empty to begin with. In her exhaustion, she hadn't sensed the truth before.

"Papa, don't let him hurt me... Please, Papa! Where are you?" The terrified little girl asked.

Jade sighed, unable to ignore a child in need. She stood up and walked toward the sound of the girl's voice. Jade finally spotted a little girl with long brown hair sitting in the darkest corner of the basement. Her knees were pulled to her chest, and she was rocking back and forth in terror. The girl wore an old-fashioned nightgown. She was sobbing softly. Jade softened at the girl's obvious distress.

"Hi," Jade gently greeted the little girl. "It's okay. I'm not here to hurt you."

The girl looked at Jade and gasped. "Who are you?" She asked her. "You are dressed so strangely..."

Jade looked down at her long black gothic dress, her silver pentagram necklace, and her black boots and could imagine what the child must be thinking. "My name's Jade," she said. "What's yours?"

"Sarah," the girl replied softly. It was clear she was still nervous.

"That's a pretty name, Sarah."

"Thank you, Miss Jade."

Jade knew she needed to help the little girl. She'd probably been dead for a long time, but for whatever reason, her spirit had yet to cross over. Sarah had been trapped in that house alone with no one to help her understand what had happened to her. Now that she'd found her, Jade couldn't leave her there.

"How old are you, Sarah?" She asked.

"I'm seven," Sarah replied with a sniffle.

"Why are you crying?" Jade asked gently.

"Papa told me to hide down here, but I'm frightened."

Jade had a feeling she understood what must have happened. "Why are you frightened?" She coaxed Sarah.

"It's dark down here, and the men are terribly angry," Sarah replied.

"What men, Sarah?"

"Papa's partners." Sarah's lip started quivering in fear again.

"Why are they angry?" Jade asked patiently.

"They said he took money from them. I saw them hurt my Mama. She won't wake up!"

Jade's heart broke for the young spirit. "What did they do to her?" She asked.

The child appeared to be debating whether or not to answer Jade. Finally, she said, "They... They shot her. They said they are going to do that to me, too, if Papa doesn't give them back their money."

Jade sighed. My dad sucked, too, she thought. We have that in common, Sarah. She didn't say the words aloud. The two girls weren't much alike in reality. Sarah loved her father deeply and believed in him. Jade had never had any illusions that her father was a good man. He'd been evil for her entire life.

"Sarah, do you know what year it is?" Jade asked.

"Of course. It's 1912," Sarah replied.

Jade nodded thoughtfully. "And this is your house?" She asked.

"Yes, Miss Jade. I've lived here all my life."

"What town is this?" Jade was asking more for her own knowledge than anything else. She might as well figure out where she was.

"Why do you ask such strange questions, Miss Jade?" Sarah asked.

"I just don't know what town I'm in. I was traveling," Jade explained.

"Oh, I see. This is Salem, Miss Jade. Salem, Massachusetts."

Jade's eyes went wide. "Salem? Wow, the Witch City... That figures," she said. She'd always wanted to visit Salem. The site of the 1692 witch trials had called to her, but she hadn't exactly planned on ending up there while she was on the run from murder charges.

"There are no witches here now, Miss," Sarah said with a frown.

"Of course not," Jade replied quickly. Except for me, of course, she added silently. "Listen, Sarah, what is the last thing you remember happening before you met me?"

"Papa told me to come down here and hide, and after a few minutes, I heard the basement door open. I thought it must be them, coming to hurt me, but then I saw you. Will you help me, Miss Jade?"

"Yes, Sarah. I'll help you," Jade said with a sigh. Sarah had died decades ago, but it must have happened so quickly that her young mind had been unable to process it, so she spent the rest of her existence stuck in the last moments of her life, forever replaying them. This was not entirely uncommon, especially in the spirits of children, and Jade had dealt with cases like Sarah's before. She knew she needed to help the child connect to her death if she was going to cross over. Jade extended her hand to Sarah, who hesitated only a moment before inserting her smaller one into Jade's.

Sarah was a strong spirit. Jade could feel the child's fingers wrapping around her own. Some spirits, especially those who did not know that they were dead, could come very close to feeling alive and physically present.

"Where are we going, Miss Jade?" Sarah asked.

"You're going someplace where you won't have to be afraid anymore," Jade explained.

"Papa said to stay here."

"You don't have to stay here anymore, Sarah." Jade looked deep into Sarah's eyes. "It's all over now, Sarah. No one can hurt you anymore."

"The bad men are gone?" Sarah asked with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Yes," Jade confirmed gently. "The bad men are gone."

"Where's my Papa?" Sarah asked nervously.

"What's your papa's name, Sarah?"

"Daniel Callaway," she replied.

"I want you to close your eyes, Sarah," Jade began. "Close your eyes tight, and picture your papa standing in front of you."

Sarah closed her eyes and did as Jade instructed. Jade focused on summoning the energy of the man who had once been known as Daniel Callaway. She could feel his essence within Sarah, so it wasn't that difficult to find him.

Out of the darkness came a small light that slowly began to grow and take the form of a man. He was handsome, but his eyes were terribly sad. Jade guessed that he must have survived the murder of his wife and daughter, and that it had both devastated and changed him. This man was an echo of who he had once been. When he saw Sarah, however, his eyes lit up.

"My goodness... Sarah? Is it you, my angel? Have you returned to me?" He asked.

Sarah opened her eyes and exclaimed, "Papa!" She let go of Jade's hand and eagerly ran into her father's waiting arms. "I waited here, Papa, just like you told me to."

Daniel's eyes filled with tears. "What a good girl you are, Sarah!" He said as he hugged her tightly.

"Miss Jade says I don't have to stay down here any longer, Papa. Is that true?"

"Yes, Sarah. It's time to leave this place now. We can be together once more." He guided her toward the door of the basement, and as they reached it, they vanished.

The house felt lighter, as if a terrible weight had been removed from within its walls. Jade took a moment to make sure no other spirits were lingering before she relaxed.

"All in a night's work," Jade mumbled to herself. "It figures I'd pick a haunted house to spend the night. I guess there's no rest for the wicked."

Suddenly, Jade heard a soft meow in the darkness. She looked toward the corner across from where Sarah had been. A black kitten was sitting there, watching her closely.

"You again?" Jade asked in shock as she recognized the kitten. "Don't tell me you followed me all this way! That's impossible. Salem's a long way from New York, Kitty."

The kitten came toward Jade and rubbed against her leg. She was purring loudly, and Jade couldn't help herself... She sat down and started to pet the kitten. "You deserve to be pet after that kind of journey," Jade decided. She could hardly believe that the kitten had appeared before her yet again.

The first time Jade had seen her new companion had been moments after she had murdered her parents using one of the most powerful death spells she knew. Although it had seemed odd that the kitten just appeared out of nowhere, it didn't seem important enough for Jade to worry about. Then, after Jade had run for several hours, the kitten had appeared in front of her outside of a bathroom she'd stopped to use. Now, it had ended up in Salem with her.

"Why are you stalking me, Kitty?" Jade asked the kitten, who meowed in response. Jade sighed. "I guess I could keep you around. I mean, you certainly seem to like me, although I really have no idea why." She curled up in the corner again. The kitten followed her and curled up in a ball next to Jade. Purring contently, the kitten fell asleep, and moments later, so did Jade. This time, she didn't have any nightmares.

~*~

The cemetery was full of activity that night. Aideen Phillips and her father, Benny, were working furiously to get things under control.

"Goddamned warlocks," Benny mumbled under his breath.

As usual, the warlocks had been casting some very evil spells recently, and the spirits of their latest sacrifices were now lingering angrily around the cemetery and wreaking havoc. Something had thrown them into a frenzy that only a couple of Reapers could stop. Luckily, Aideen and her father were there to answer the call.

"Dad!" Aideen shouted with horror in her voice. "Dad, get over here, now!"

"What?" Benny asked, hurrying toward her. He was visibly concerned by how panicked she sounded, which was understandable. It generally took a lot to shake Aideen up. "What is it, Deenie?"

"It's Burt," Aideen replied. She pointed to the tall man who had once been one of the highest-ranking non-corrupt slayers in all of Massachusetts. Burt Radner had been killed in an ambush orchestrated by all of Massachusetts's strongest bad guys three years earlier. It was a mark of how talented of a slayer he had been that not even half of the bad guys had walked away that night. Now, his corpse stood before Aideen and Benny with a look of pure hatred in his eyes.

"Burt?" Benny repeated in shock. "Who the hell raised him?"

"I don't know," Aideen replied. "I sure as hell didn't do it." Being Reapers, Aideen and Benny were both powerful necromancers, which meant that they had a strong connection to death and were able to raise zombies and lay them to rest as needed. They were also vampires, slayers, and witches, making them somewhat unique in Salem's supernatural community.

"Vengeance," Burt said suddenly.

"What?" Benny asked.

"Vengeance!" Burt repeated.

"Awesome. That clears things up," Aideen mumbled.

"Who are you seeking vengeance for?" Benny asked.

"Felicia," Burt replied.

"Felicia? Do you mean Felicia Kelspy?"

"Yes."

"Who raised you, Burt?"

"Pierre Winslow."

"Great, Burt's under the control of a warlock," Aideen said. "Just what we need."

"Pierre is justified. His girlfriend was killed in cold blood last week," Burt said.

"His girlfriend was a warlock. You know, a witch turned traitor?" Aideen reminded the zombie. "Or have you forgotten what loyalty is since Pierre started controlling you? Felicia Kelspy sacrificed the six-year-old triplets of the witch she was apprenticed to! She deserved what she got."

Burt growled threateningly. "Deenie, back off," Benny advised. "You don't want to push him too far. We don't know what Pierre's plans are for Burt."

"We're two of the strongest necromancers in Salem, Dad," Aideen replied. "We're definitely stronger than Pierre. We can take Burt away from him and lay him to rest."

"Maybe you should go home. I'll handle this myself," Benny said.

"No way, Dad. Burt was like family! I don't let my family get hurt, even after they're dead," Aideen insisted.

Knowing that his daughter had a good heart and was extremely stubborn, Benny gave up on arguing with her. It wasn't worth the fight, especially since he knew that he would lose in the end. "Alright," Benny agreed. "Help me take control of him."

Aideen took out the silver dagger she always carried with her. She'd had it since the day she was born. It had a dragon etched onto the blade, which suited her personality well.

Aideen pressed the dagger to her wrist, but Benny shook his head. "Not a chance, Deenie," Benny said. "We're not using your blood for this. We can use mine."

"What's wrong with my blood?" Aideen asked.

"I prefer that it stays in your body," Benny replied.

"And what about your blood?"

"I can spare it. You're a vampire, honey. You need your blood."

"Hello, Dad, so are you," she reminded him.

"Yes, but I feed more often than you do, and therefore, I can afford to spare a bit more than you can."

"Whatever." Aideen said with a shrug, deciding not to pursue the argument further.

Benny cut his wrist just enough to produce a small amount of blood. He smeared it on the middle of Burt's forehead. "My blood binds you to me. In covering your third eye, it shields you from the command of others." He put his wrist to Burt's mouth. Burt eagerly began to drink from him. "Drink of my blood and I shall become your new master," Benny said. When Burt had taken enough of Benny's blood, Benny pulled his wrist away and continued, "Burt, I command you to tell me what Pierre ordered you to do."

"I am to kill those who killed Felicia," Burt replied.

"You are no longer to do that. Is there anything else he told you to do?"

"I am to find the key."

"What key?" Benny asked in confusion.

"Maybe Pierre lost his car keys," Aideen quipped.

"The key to the tomb," Burt replied, ignoring her.

"What tomb?" Benny asked.

"The tomb where the angels go to die."

Aideen shivered slightly at his words. She turned serious as she realized this might actually be important.

"Where is this tomb?" Benny asked.

"I do not know," Burt replied.

"It figures," Aideen mumbled.

Benny swore under his breath. "Alright, Burt," he said. "I lay you back to your place of rest. Go in peace."

Aideen watched as Burt walked back to his grave and climbed inside of his coffin. The ground mended itself and no one would be able to tell that the grave had ever been disturbed.

"What was he talking about?" Aideen asked. "That stuff about a tomb where the angels go to die?"

"I don't know," Benny said, shaking his head. "It doesn't ring a bell. I'll have to look into it later. Come on, honey, we've done enough for one night." He led Aideen out of the cemetery, still visibly feeling uneasy about the whole ordeal.