07 The Return_ Midnight - L. J. Smith

steps and tossing him hearty balls of hamburger and delicate strips of filet mignon—each of which he
gulped down whole. Damon watched with interest as the animal devoured the mix of sleeping powder
and raw meat, tail whisking on the floor.
Ten minutes later Saber the hellhound was sprawled out happily unconscious.
Six minutes after that, Damon was opening an iron door.
One second later he was pulling a pillowcase out of Mrs. Flowers’s antique safe.
In the glow of the flashlight he found that he did indeed have a star ball, but that it was
just a little more than half full.
Now what did that mean? There was a very neat hole drilled and corked at the top so that
not one precious droplet more need be wasted.
But who had used the rest of the fluid—and why? Damon himself had seen the star ball
brimful of opalescent, shimmering liquid just days ago.
Somehow between that time and now someone had used about a hundred thousand
individuals’ life energy.
Had the others tried to do some remarkable deed with it and failed, at the cost of burning
so much Power? Stefan was too kind to have used so much, Damon was certain of that. But…
Sage.
With an Imperial Summons in his hand, Sage was likely to do anything. So, sometime
after the sphere had been brought into the boardinghouse, Sage had poured out almost exactly half the
life force from the star ball and then, undoubtedly, left the rest behind for Mutt or someone to cork.
And such a colossal amount of Power could only have been used for…opening the Gate
to the Dark Dimensions.
Very slowly, Damon let out his breath and smiled. There were only a few ways to get
into the Dark Dimensions, and as a human he obviously could not drive to Arizona and pass through a
public Gateway as he had the first time with the girls. But now he had something even better. A star
ball to open his own private Gateway. He knew of no other way to cross, unless one was lucky
enough to hold one of the almost-mythical Master Keys that allowed one to roam the dimensions at
will.
Doubtless, someday in the future, in some nook, Mrs. Flowers would find another thankyou
note: this time along with something that was literally invaluable—something exquisite and
priceless and probably from a dimension quite far from Earth. That was how Sage operated.
All was quiet above. The humans were relying on their animal companions to keep them
safe. Damon gave the root cellar a single look around and saw nothing more than a dim room
completely empty except for the safe, which he now closed. Dumping his own paraphernalia into the
pillowcase, he patted Saber, who was gently snoring, and turned toward the steps.
That was when he saw that a figure was standing in the doorway. The figure then stepped
smoothly behind the door, but Damon had seen enough.
In one hand the figure had been holding a fighting stave almost as tall as it was.
Which meant that it was a hunter-slayer. Of vampires.
Damon had met several hunter-slayers—briefly—in his time. They were, in his
consideration, bigoted, unreasonable, and even more stupid than the average human, because they’d
usually been brought up on legends of vampires with fangs like tusks who ripped out the throats of
their victims and killed them. Damon would be the first to admit that there were some vampires like
that, but most were more restrained. Vampire hunters usually worked in groups, but Damon had a
hunch that this one would be alone.