The otherworldly, electronica beats of Beborn Beton filled Yesterday's Memories --the antique shop Jamie Smith ran --from the CD player sitting on the countertop. It had been a slow day, and now it was just after sunset, close to quitting time. This early in the week, Jamie was taking the opportunity to get some of his reading in. The noise from traffic outside was muted in the store, leaving Jamie able to concentrate on his book. His laptop was open beside him, allowing him to occasionally double check the availability of ingredients at his favorite downtown herbal store.

The brass bell over the door jingled and for a brief moment, the hum of traffic and blare of car horns poured inside before the door closed again. A middle-aged man walked up to the counter, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Dressed in khakis and a dark green button-down shirt, he looked like everybody else who occasionally walked through the door of Yesterday's Memories -average build, not exceptionally tall but not short, red hair. Overall, nothing stood out about him, except for maybe sunglasses indoors.

"Excuse me, but I'm looking for Jamie Smith."

Timothy, Jamie's spectral companion, drifted from the back room. “Oh, nice vamp. If I had a body, I’d do--”

Jamie closed his eyes in irritation and cleared his throat noisily before Timothy could finish. Whether or not the vampire could see Timothy depended on whether the creature had had the power when he was alive. At the moment, Jamie prayed he didn’t. Ignoring Timothy, Jamie smiled politely and said, “I’m Jamie Smith. How can I help you?”

"I'm looking for this," the man said, sliding a faded picture across the counter. He turned his head toward the far corner, but said nothing before looking back at Jamie. "Have you seen it?"

Jamie started nervously when he saw the picture. He stared at it, hesitating in his answer. Timothy hovered behind his shoulder to get a closer look. “It’s that the piece you don’t like to touch,” the spirit said.

Jamie glanced up at the man. “Yeah, I’ve got it. You interested in it?”

"Yes. It belongs to someone and I've come to retrieve it. Has anyone touched it?"

"Retrieve it?” Jamie scowled, immediately wondering if somebody was going to try to sue him over the thing. “I keep it in a case, so I’m the only one who’s touched it.”

The man cursed under his breath. "Give me your hands."

"Excuse me?” Jamie moved away to the other end of the counter than opened the back of the display case and pulled out the jewelry box. “If you want to buy the necklace, it’s going to cost you two grand. It's genuine pearl.”

The man grabbed Jamie's wrist before Jamie could open the box. "Do not touch it."

"I think you need to back off before I call the cops.” The stranger was really starting to piss him off. “And let go of my arm, now.”

"That might not be--” Agitated, Timothy hovered as close as he could, but he couldn’t do much.

“Timothy, just shut the fuck up, all right?” Jamie snapped.

A spark flickered up through Jamie's arm and the man released him. "Who else has been here?"

"Been here?” Jamie edged away, closer to the phone. “Look, why don’t you just leave? I’m about to close shop, and I’m not in any mood to do business with you.”

"You don't want to walk away from me. I'm willing to pay you --others won't be."

"Maybe you shouldn’t sell that thing.” Timothy whispered in Jamie's ear. “Something is going on.”

Jamie opened the box and studied the necklace made of black pearls interspersed by bloodstones. Why would a vampire be interested in this? The other guy who had been in the night before hadn’t had the cash at the time to meet the price Jamie wanted, but he’d said he’d return. Lost in thought, Timothy absent-mindedly touched one of the pearls. A sudden rush of dark power sent him staggering backward, blindly trying to stop himself from falling. Something exploded in his head and he crashed to the floor, toppling over several of the antique music boxes on a shelf behind him.

Within seconds, hands were on him, helping Jamie to sit up. "I told you not to touch it," the man hissed.

Jamie barely heard him. He blinked, but he saw nothing but darkness. When the shadows faded, he wasn’t in his own store anymore. Shock rippled though him when he saw himself surrounded by people, their dress definitely from the turn of the millennium. Then came the heat. Flames flared up, dangerously close to his bare feet. Jamie screamed and fought against the ropes binding his wrists behind the wooden post. The ropes burned into his skin, the cloying smell of wood, smoke, and burning flesh strong.

An unseen force slammed into his chest, followed by a flash of blinding light, and he found himself on a boat, the sea churning, gales threatening to capsize the small vessel. More lightning flashed and Jamie gasped, going to his knees on unforgiving stone. In the filth-ridden alley, he heard people and animals, bells chiming in the distance. Then blackness filled his vision once more. He heard someone speaking to him, the sound of the voice far away.

"Jamie! Jamie!” The screech of Timothy’s voice calling him broke through, and Jamie opened his eyes to see the vampire kneeling beside him and Timothy right behind him.

"Haridan. Your name is Haridan."

The vampire nodded and cupped Jamie's head, thumbs on his temples. "Don't fight me."

Jamie wasn’t in any position to fight. He felt the pull at his consciousness trying to drag him back into the life he'd just experienced, and he fought it, forcing his mind to blank and allow the vampire some access. Sharp, intense power flooded Jamie, shielding him from the necklace's energy. The two forces tugged at him until the vampire won out, pulling Jamie back into the present. The transition jolted him and he gasped, sucking in a quick breath.

"Don't touch it."

To Jamie, it nearly felt like being mentally torn in two. He’d been connected to another’s life, and had become Haridan in those moments. Trying to stop the dizzying sensation in his own head, he blinked. The memories were still there --Haridan's memories. “Destroy that fucking thing.”

Timothy crouched on the other side of Jamie. “Are you all right?”

"I'm fine, Timothy. Don’t worry.”

"I can't," Haridan said. "It's not mine to destroy. I was only sent to--" Shadows engulfed them suddenly, Haridan trapping a pocket of air for Jamie, just as the front door shattered. Glass flew across the room and feet crunched on broken glass. Haridan clamped his hand down on Jamie's mouth.

"Find that damn necklace!" one of the intruders shouted. Then they began tearing the place apart, smashing antiques and glass.

"Not a sound," Haridan hissed softly in Jamie's ear.

Neither Jamie nor Timothy said a word. Jamie stiffened. He now knew how dangerous the necklace could be. He couldn’t see the destruction, but he could hear it. His entire livelihood, every single piece, crushed to dust.

"It's not here!" Shattering glass followed the growl, then the crash of the cash register hitting the floor.

"He must've taken it home," another of the men said.

After a few seconds of silence, the first thief said, "Then we'll pay Mr. Smith a little visit."

When the place fell into an uneasy quiet once more, the shadows faded. Haridan released Jamie. "You're in danger. Even if I took the necklace, they'd hunt you down. You've touched it; that's enough."

Jamie carefully eased himself into a sitting position, staring at Timothy, whose form shifted in and out of focus, the look on the spirit's face worried. He didn't think Haridan hearing him speak to the ghost at this point would matter. “Timothy, just calm down, please. You’re not helping any.”

"But he’s right," Timothy whined. "You’ve got to get out of here, Jamie. I ain’t hung around this long to see you turn into a ghost.”

"I'm not going to be a ghost.” Jamie grabbed the metal edge of the counter while trying to avoid the shards of glass from the display case, and got to his feet.

Haridan stood and helped him to steady. "You can't go home. And reassure your spirit friend that I won't let you become a ghost."

“No, you can’t go home," Timothy blurted. "He’s the only one who can protect you.”

Jamie glared at Timothy before he looked back at Haridan. “He thinks you’re the only one who can protect me.”

"From them? I can guarantee it, unless you make it a habit of picking up vampires on a regular basis. Even then, no one knows the necklace has been stolen, Jamie. The others will hunt you and invade you to pick out every shred of information --about the necklace, about me..."

Jamie could almost hear Timothy’s head rattling in agreement. He rubbed at his forehead, trying to think straight, but it didn’t help. “Let’s just get the hell out of here. Then I’ll figure out what to do.”

"Is there anything you need before we leave? We can't come back, and we can't go to your home."

Jamie stared blankly at the ruins of his store for a moment. “I need my receipts. In the safe.” He went into the back room, opened the safe, and got the receipts. When he returned to the front, he quickly picked up several pieces he absolutely refused to leave behind. “We can go now.”

Haridan grabbed the box with the necklace. "Come here and hang on."

Jamie eyed him askance and cautiously took the vampire's hand. He severely regretted it when the blinding darkness engulfed them along with sickening sense of speed. If he was lucky, he wouldn't puke on his bizarre rescuer.