She Returns from War

FOUR



Victoria wrinkled her nose. The scent of animals, of hay and dung and leather, surrounded her. Opening her eyes, she searched for the source of the offensive odors. Wooden walls rose around her on three sides, vanishing into the darkness above. Where a fourth wall might have stood was only shadows. Something scratchy poked her in the cheek as she turned her head. Her hand explored the ground beneath her. Straw and, beneath it, wood.

Victoria pushed herself into a sitting position. Her wrist protested, sending sharp pains shooting up her arm. All at once, she remembered the dark figure and the events that must have led her here. Instinct pulled her legs up to her chest. Eyes probing every shadow for a sign of her attacker, she began trying to piece together where she might be. Three walls around her and straw beneath her. A stall. Yes, she had to be in a livestock stall in a barn. It would explain the overpowering smell of animals. The darkness suggested that it was still night outside. If she could just find the entrance to this barn, she might be able to figure out where she was.

A rustling.

She froze. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Every nerve, every muscle tense, ready for God alone knew what. Time passed, marked only by her shallow breaths. The darkness seemed to swim around her in streaks of blue and purple and brown. She tried to blink them away, but they remained, flitting in and out of sight like fey spirits.

After what seemed like hours, Victoria let her muscles relax slightly. Whatever made that noise hadn't moved again. Perhaps it had only been a rabbit or mouse outside the barn. Slowly, she pulled her legs under her. The straw seemed to screech as she moved, and she paused every few inches to listen for any response. Silence. She stood. Her feet were cold and stiff, and she allowed herself a brief moment of self-reproach for leaving the hotel room without her shoes.

Moonlight fell in long, blue shafts through gaps in the walls. It gave her enough light to take a tentative step toward the stall door. The straw crackled beneath her weight, and she winced at the sound. Two more steps, and she was close enough to reach the edge of the wall to her left. Her fingers clamped on to the wood, heedless of splinters. Wrapping her arms around the post, she nearly wept in relief. She was making it. Her kidnapper, confident in his speed and strength, must have left her alone. Perhaps he had gone to find another victim, or simply gone in search of rope to tie her up. Whatever the reason, she fully intended to be gone when he returned. Smiling at the thought, she poked her head out of the stall and looked around.

Two pale points of red light hung in the darkness.

Victoria sucked in a breath. The lights did not move or change. They weren't lanterns or any sort of electric light, yet they seemed familiar somehow. Wracking her memory for a moment, she realized she had seen the same red glow in the eyes of her father's hounds at night as she passed the kennels. Relief washed over her, and she nearly laughed out loud. Those lights were just the eyes of some animal, most likely a raccoon or mouse, watching her. It was probably more frightened of her than she was of it. The thought gave her courage. She may be alone in a strange country, but she still had her wits and the use of her limbs. Breathing a small sigh, she turned away from them and started searching for the barn's exit.

A rustling.

Her heart leapt into her throat. Turning toward the sound, she was again greeted by those two points of light floating like will-o'-the-wisps in the sea of shadows. Only now they were moving. Terror anchored her feet in place. She willed them to move, drawing on every bit of strength she had left, but they remained welded to the barn floor. Helpless, she watched the eyes advance. Straw rustled. Somewhere in the night, an animal screamed.

A figure stepped into a shaft of moonlight. Shadows of a head and long hair appeared around the floating lights. She could make out shapes like arms and legs moving in slow strides, each step bringing the thing closer. It passed in and out of the moonlight as it came, making it seem to grow closer in sudden leaps. The haunting lights remained fixed on her. Her mind screamed at her body to run, to fight, to move, but it only responded with a racing heart and shallow, ragged breaths.

Moonlight passed over the shadow's face, revealing a woman's features. It stopped as if to let her take in the sight. Skin creased in thin shadows around the glowing eyes, smoothing out over a broad nose and high cheekbones. The woman's lips pressed together, forming a line of darkness like a scar beneath her nose.

"Who are you?"

Victoria's own voice startled her. It quavered, thin and reedy.

The woman's head cocked to one side. Red eyes glimmered.

"Who."

The word was clear, oddly accented, but the voice was human.

"Where am I?"

"Who," the woman repeated in the same calm voice.

Victoria's tongue ran over her lips. "Can you understand me?"

"Who."

The strange conversation only fueled Victoria's fear. Was this woman simple-minded? Was she mad? Who or what was she?

"You sound like a goddamned owl," said a voice from above them. Victoria's eyes darted upward. Blue orbs burned in the darkness, regarding her with murderous intensity. A scream burst from her throat, and the new voice laughed. "And you sound like a coyote. Am I the only human here?"

There was a sliding sound, and the eyes plummeted toward the ground. Boots clapped against wood as the intruder landed. He straightened up, eyes leering at her from a shadow. A swath of moonlight fell across his torso, illuminating a belt buckle and button-up shirt. The fall would have broken any man's legs, but he seemed unharmed. "Then again, I ain't exactly human my own self."

Victoria's limbs finally responded. She slid into a halfcrouch, arms splayed out, ready for the man to attack her. He responded with another laugh. "Ain't you just a regular tom cat? Never would have guessed you lady Brits was so feisty. I should've bagged me one a long time ago."

"What do you want with me?" Victoria demanded, fear lending strength to her voice.

"A man has needs, darlin," the man said, "and I ain't just any old man. I'm quite a bit more, if you take my meaning, and I got extra needs that need seeing to, too."

"Quiet, demon." The woman's voice resonated in the darkness. The man's glowing eyes snapped toward her. After a moment, he took a step backward.

The woman's gaze returned to Victoria. "You are from the east?"

Victoria nodded.

"And you visit the woman hunter?"

"Yes," Victoria said, confused.

The strange eyes blinked. "This is not pleasing."

"It's bad enough that bitch is getting herself some fancy visitors," the man said. "Who gives a shake where they're from?"

"East is dawn-child," the woman said. "East is the path of the Witchery Way."

"You saying this one here's a witch?"

"I am no witch," Victoria said.

The woman blinked again. "You say no?"

"Yes, I say no."

"Your words say both at once," the woman said. "I see your wind."

"She's British. That means she's stuffy, but it don't mean she's a witch," the man said. "Hell, look at her. She ain't bright enough to be no witch."

"You waste your wind, demon. I would not hear you speak."

The blue eyes flashed in defiance, but the man didn't reply.

"You, British," the woman said. "What is your name?"

Victoria hesitated.

"Tell me your name."

Her mouth moved against her will. "Victoria Dawes."

"What is your purpose here, Victoria Dawes?"

Again she held back, and again something pulled the words from her. "I came to see Cora Oglesby, the woman hunter."

"This you have said." The woman stepped toward Victoria. "It is not my answer. I say again: why did you come here?"

"Was it to teach that Oglesby bitch witchcraft?" the man asked.

"I told you, I'm not a witch," Victoria said. "I don't know where you're getting that idea, but you're wrong."

Neither of her captors replied. Silence enclosed the barn's interior as they continued to regard her with their inhuman eyes. Weariness began creeping into her arms and legs. It pulled at her eyelids and shoulders, drawing them downward. The straw beneath her toes suddenly felt soft and inviting, and she was so very tired. What could laying down for a minute hurt? Just a quick nap. She had a train to catch in the morning, after all, and her eyelids were so very heavy.

Victoria shook her head. No, she couldn't sleep. How could she even consider it with these two monsters so close? What was wrong with her? Gathering her strength, she stood to her full height and took a deep breath.

The red eyes floated backward slightly. Victoria looked into them, a new resolve hardening her voice. "What do you want with me?"

"To learn, Victoria Dawes," the woman replied. "I see you visit the woman hunter, and I am curious. Why should a woman from the east visit her?"

"My business is my own," Victoria replied.

"It's our business when you hop your pretty little self over to that saloon and have a nice jawing with that Cora Oglesby," the man's voice said. "We have a mighty keen interest in her our own selves, so when she gets strange visitors, we tend to take notice."

"What do you want with Cora?"

"To learn," the woman said again.

"Your methods of acquiring knowledge are rather dubious," Victoria said. "Kidnapping is generally regarded as a crime."

The woman stepped closer, eyes gleaming. "You do not know crime."

"I'm no constable, I grant you that," Victoria said.

"Your wind grows hungry," the woman said.

"My what?"

The woman stared at her without replying. Victoria challenged her eerie gaze, trying to demonstrate her strength of will. An unseen force began building against her chest, as if someone were trying to push her backward. She leaned into the pressure, fighting it with both body and mind. The woman's eyes grew brighter. The pressure increased, and Victoria struggled to breathe against its weight. At any moment, she expected her feet to slide across the floor.

The glowing points turned away from her, and the pressure vanished. Victoria sucked in a breath and nearly stumbled forward. Her head throbbed.

"Hungry, yes, but also strong," the woman said quietly.

"What?" the man asked.

"This one," she said, turning back to her prisoner, "has a great gale inside her. Perhaps she does not know how to free it, but it is there."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"We have learned something." Moonlight glimmered on the woman's skin as she extended her hand. Victoria shied away.

"Nothing useful," the man complained.

"You are not one to speak of usefulness," she replied.

"And what do you mean by that?"

Victoria sensed the onset of an argument. She began easing away from the two, making her way backward. She didn't know if she would find a door in that direction, but at the very least she could put some more distance between herself and her quarreling captors. Each step was precise, calculated to make as little noise as possible. It was an art she'd mastered as a little girl to swipe lemon bars from the pantry after her bedtime. The danger of getting caught had seemed just as real to her then, but she knew the consequences this night would be far more deadly.

Three agonizing steps later, she felt something solid behind her. Her fingers touched wood. She stole a quick glance backward. The rear wall of the barn stood behind her. Now if she could just edge along it until she came to a door, she could make her escape.

Icy fingers clamped around her neck. Victoria felt herself lifted off her feet and pinned against the wall. Her chest heaved as her lungs worked to pull air past the powerful grip. It wouldn't come. She dug her nails under the fingers, trying to pry them away. Blue flames burned mere inches from her face. They left streaks across her vision as her eyes rolled frantically, searching for help that would never come. Already her arms grew heavy, even as her lungs screamed in agony.

"Enough, demon."

The voice was quiet, reaching out to her across what seemed like miles of darkness. Death released its hold on her throat, and she fell. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she lay on one side and breathed in ragged gasps.

After a few minutes, her head slowed its sickening spinning. Looking up, she saw the two sets of eyes peering down at her.

"We mean you no harm," the woman said.

"What do you want?" Victoria asked. "Please, just tell me what you want."

The blue eyes moved forward, and she cowered against the wall, covering her head with her arms.

"Peace!" Steel lined the woman's voice. "You are not to move or speak until we have finished, demon. Do you understand?" Silence. "Good." Turning back to the huddled woman, the woman's voice spoke in gentler tones. "Please, do not fear. My friend is hot with anger, and it makes him act like a fool. I will not let him harm you."

As the woman spoke, Victoria's limbs slowly unwrapped themselves. She looked up at the uncanny eyes floating above her. "Please."

"I must know why you came here," the woman said. "Why did you visit the woman hunter?"

"To ask for her help," Victoria said in a small voice.

"Why do you seek help?"

"My parents. They died. Monsters killed them. I was told Cora could help me."

"What monsters?"

"I don't know." With each word, Victoria relaxed more. It felt so good to tell this woman the truth. "They were large and black, like shadows. Their eyes were yellow. They scared our horse and drove us into the river."

The woman did not speak for a moment. The silence crawled up Victoria's legs. Had she said something wrong? She was only telling this woman what she wanted to know. If she really meant what she said, she would call off her friend and let her go. Victoria just had to keep cooperating.

"I do not know your monsters," the woman said at last. "Why should the woman hunter? Is there no man in your country who knows?"

"One did. Does. A professor named James. He told me to come find Cora."

At the mention of James, the blue eyes grew bright. Tendrils of fear coiled around Victoria's chest, and her neck ached at the memory of those cruel fingers. She braced herself for another attack, but he remained where he was. Victoria looked back at the woman with new admiration.

"You see?" she said. "He will not hurt you again."

"Thank you," Victoria whispered with a grateful smile.

"So this...professor told you to come to the woman hunter?" the woman asked. Victoria nodded. "What did he tell you of her?"

"She is strong. She kills monsters." Her vision blurred. "But he was wrong. She refused to help me. She doesn't hunt monsters anymore, so she can't help me." She wiped at tears with the back of her hand.

The woman leaned in close. "What did you say? She does not hunt?"

"Not anymore," Victoria said. "She said she stopped. She wants to live in peace. She won't help me." A small sob escaped her lips.

Silence again. Victoria looked up. The red eyes had vanished, but the woman's presence lingered nearby, strong and sinister. The man's blue gaze still floated in the shadows, though it no longer looked her way. Victoria wrapped her arms around herself. The hopelessness of her situation descended like a thick, smothering blanket. She fought against the flood of tears that would, if unleashed, dissolve her into a useless, blubbing mess. Even if she were to die in this place, she would not die weeping.

A sudden breeze swirled through the barn, sending straw fluttering every which way. Victoria's head came up, and her breath caught in her throat.

The two creatures were gone.

Confused, Victoria waited, straining her eyes in the darkness. Seconds passed. The breeze faded away, leaving her in silence. Bracing herself against the wall, she rose on shaky legs. No lights glinted at her from the shadows, no hands reached out to strangle her. Taking a step forward, she paused, listening. Nothing.

Wetting her lips with her tongue, she marshaled her courage. "Hello?" she called, half-cringing. Her voice rang against the walls before fading into the shadows. There was no answer.

Somewhere inside her, a small hope blossomed. She took one step, then another. Her legs stopped shaking. Straw rustled beneath her feet as she began walking faster, her eyes sweeping the empty stalls for any movement. The barn door loomed ahead of her, the great white X painted on it promising an escape from this nightmare.

When Victoria reached the door, she stared up at it for a moment. How had the two creatures managed to leave the barn without opening it? Not that it mattered. Hooking her fingers around an exposed corner, she pulled. The door didn't budge. She pulled again. It swayed slightly in place as the sound of creaking wood drifted down from its runners.

With a grunt of frustration, Victoria shoved in the opposite direction. Metal squealed and groaned as the door shuddered, but it moved. She pushed harder, her toes digging into the rough wood beneath her. Inch by inch, the door slid aside. Fresh air tickled her ankles through the ever-widening gap. The scent of the night sent thrills through her body as the door's momentum started carrying her along. She let herself laugh then, and the stars seemed to share her mirth as they glittered down from their places in the endless sky.

The door reached the end of its rail and jerked to a halt, sending Victoria sprawling. Righting herself, she pulled her dressing gown back down to cover her legs. A patch of moonlight illuminated the straw covering the floor, making the barn's interior far less frightening. Where once had been an abyss of confusion and fear now stood just an old building. Giddy with her newfound freedom, Victoria gave it a quick curtsey before stepping out into the night.

Outside, a scene of quiet desolation awaited her. Wooden fences extended from the walls of the barn to frame a large yard. A wind pump stood at the far end of the enclosure, groaning at the occasional breath of wind. Some distance away, a large house sat on top of a small rise. Victoria's hopes rose when she saw it, and she began walking.

The ground was rough, covered with rocks and short, scrubby plants that poked and scratched at her bare feet. She picked her way across the yard, doing her best to avoid the worst of them. The moonlight helped, but she still put her weight down a few times only to wince and pull her foot back. Her feet ached worse with every misstep. By the time she reached the house, she fully understood why all the locals wore thick leather boots.

The house's windows were dark, but she stepped up to the door and knocked anyway. No answer. She knocked again, calling out for help. The house remained dark, wrapped in a brooding silence.

Uneasiness crept back into Victoria's stomach as she stood on the porch. She felt exposed. Her back was to the barn and the expanse of desert beyond it. Those people or creatures or whatever they were could still be out there, watching her. In the barn, they had disappeared in a gust of wind. They might be able to return the same way. She glanced over her shoulder. Nothing moved behind her, but that didn't mean she was safe. With those things out there somewhere, she was never safe.

Victoria's nerves finally overwhelmed her good manners, and she tried the doorknob. Finding it unlocked, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. The air was just as cold inside even though none of the windows were open. She called out again, her voice ringing in the absolute stillness, but nothing stirred. Spirits sinking, she began exploring the house.

"They are not at home."

Victoria's heart stopped. Her head snapped around. Red eyes gleamed at her.

Without thinking, Victoria sprinted across the room and up the narrow staircase. Darkness enveloped her. At the top, she found a hallway with doors in both walls. Choosing the door on the right, she slammed her body into it. Wood cracked, and the door fell open. A bedroom. She dashed to the sole window and tried to open it. It was sealed. She would have to break it. Something in the room, a chair or a lamp, could do it. She turned from the window to search.

A face looked back at her.

Victoria screamed, jumping backward into the wall. Something was crouched on the bed. It had a human shape, but the face was horribly misshapen. Teeth erupted from its mouth in jagged clumps, mashing together in a tangled mass that poked through the remains of a beard. One eye was missing, torn out by whatever carved the gash that ran from the monster's right temple to its left cheek; the remaining eye regarded her with feral hunger as its teeth clicked together.

The creature placed a hand on the bedpost, edging closer to her. She pressed herself against the wall. Tearing her eyes from the horror, she glanced to her right. The door hung on its hinges at an odd angle, damaged by her violent entrance, but it was still open.

A hiss of air whistled through crooked teeth. Victoria kept the monstrosity in sight as she worked her way toward the door. Its eye watched her progress with a predator's interest, but the creature didn't lunge for her. Instead, it crawled down onto the floor, keeping pace with her. Remains of a shirt and trousers hung from its bones. Powerful legs coiled beneath it, ready to spring.

Another hiss broke Victoria's nerve, and she ran. Her bare feet carried her back into the hall and down the stairs. She could hear the thumping of the creature's limbs on the floor. Reaching the lower level, she risked a quick glance over her shoulder. A grey shape loped along only a few paces behind her. Fresh terror gave her a boost of speed, and she careened through the open front door into the night.

Rocks jabbed at her feet, but she didn't feel them. Small cacti scratched her exposed ankles, but she didn't care. Her lungs burned, her eyes watered, but she kept going. All that mattered was outrunning the thing behind her. She could see the barn ahead of her. Maybe she could hide in there, or find something to fight with, a pitchfork or a shovel. Anything was better than facing it down with nothing but her dressing gown and overcoat.

The barn was close now. Victoria put all her energy into one last sprint. Head down, she rounded the corner and collided with the strange man.

Bouncing back from the impact, Victoria lost her balance and fell. The man stood over her in an instant, boots planted on either side of her chest. His blue eyes burned down at her. Moonlight lit his face, and she saw his features for the first time. Shaggy hair covered his ears and fell in straight locks across his cheeks. A beard, welltrimmed, framed his lips, brushing up beneath his nose. But for his eyes, he looked like an ordinary man, even handsome. Denim trousers and a roughspun, button-up shirt identified him as a local.

"Howdy, darlin."

Victoria dug her palms into the dirt and shoved backward. Rolling onto her stomach, she pulled her legs under her in an effort to double back the way she came. A glance ahead stopped her cold; the creature from the bedroom crouched on all fours, waiting for her. She rose to her feet and turned to face the man. Her hope of escape was gone, but she refused to cower before him a second time.

A grin spread his lips. "You sure ain't hard on the eyes, you know that?" His blue gaze swept up and down her body. "I always do get randy at the sight of a woman in her bed clothes. Guess part of me is still a man."

His laughter made her skin crawl. "Is that why you kidnapped a helpless woman at night?"

"I reckon that had something to do with it," he said, "though hell knows it ain't the only reason. Fact is, it wasn't even my idea."

"Whose was it?"

"Hers," he said. "She ain't bad, but I never go in for no squaws. Ain't natural, if you follow me. You, now, is perfectly natural. Just the sight of you makes me wish I hadn't been turned."

Despite her resolution, Victoria felt herself shrinking away from him. "What do you mean, turned?"'

"Into what I is. I wasn't born this way, you know."

"What are you?"

"A god." He laughed at her look of disgust. "Ain't that hard to believe, is it? After all, you seen for yourself what I can do. Ain't no ordinary man has my strength and speed. I don't got to eat, I don't never get sick or cold, and I ain't never going to die. If that ain't a god, then I don't know what is."

"Enough of your waste, demon." Startled, Victoria turned. The strange woman stood a few feet away. Black hair cascaded down her shoulders in waves, framing a round, broad-nosed face. Even in the moonlight, her eyes still glimmered like an animal's. Her skin was a grey shadow, darker than Victoria's. Simple hide trousers and a tunic covered her body but left her arms bare.

"Who are you?" Victoria asked.

"What matters, Victoria Dawes, is who I am not." Her face betrayed no hint of emotion as she spoke. "I am not your friend, and I am not your enemy. Return to your country with the woman hunter."

"I already told you," Victoria said, "she won't come with me."

"You must force her, then," the woman said, "for your own good. If you do, I will be your friend. If you do not, I will become your enemy."

Victoria swallowed. She hadn't expected this. "Why do you want me to take her with me?"

"You do not need to know. Know only that you must."

"Just like that?" the man said. "No funning or nothing?"

"Yes," the woman replied. "She can be useful."

A glimmer of hope sparked to life somewhere deep in Victoria's being. "So as long as I take Cora Oglesby with me when I depart, you'll let me go free?"

"What if I says no?" the man asked.

The woman regarded him placidly. "You have no word in this, demon. You will do as I say."

Blue eyes blazing, the man stepped forward. "I ain't about to let no squaw tell me what to do."

"You will," she replied. "You will also take Victoria Dawes back to the white town, and you will not harm her in any way."

They glared at one another, inhuman eyes locked in a battle of will. Victoria could almost see the tension stretching from eye to eye, flickering and flashing in the moonlight. She gave brief thought to the idea of using the opportunity to flee, but a hiss from the creature behind her made her reconsider. Another glance at it made her stomach lurch, and she looked down at her bare toes instead.

The man was the first to break, his eyes blinking as he drew in a breath. His gaze dropped to his boots and he gave a single nod. The Indian woman showed no outward sign of triumph or relief as she turned back to Victoria. "He will take you back to the white town."

"Might he...just point me in the right direction?" Victoria asked. "I'm sure I can make it on my own."

"You cannot," the woman said. "We are far from the white town, more than you could walk in a day and a night. This demon can run like the deer without stopping for rest. Be sure you do not slow him down, as the sun will soon rise."

"Why does that matter?"

She didn't reply. Victoria looked at the man, bracing herself for the journey ahead. Her skin crawled at the thought of touching him, but if they were really that far from Albuquerque, she would need his help getting back. A dressing gown, an overcoat, and bare feet were hardly well-suited to traveling through the desert, and she had no supplies at all. As much as she hated the thought, she really was at his mercy.

"You must start soon." This was directed at the man. "If you do not, you will not be safe by sunrise."

The man nodded, turning his blue gaze at Victoria. "You ready, darlin?"

"Yes," Victoria said, "but I will not be carried like a babe in arms. You will carry me on your back."

"Well, ain't you little miss queenie all of a sudden-like," the man said.

"Do as she says, demon," the woman said, "and send your creature away. I do not like to look at it."

Shocked, Victoria looked at the ghoul. Its lips pulled back from its teeth in a hideous grin as it turned and ambled back toward the house. Once it disappeared through the door, she turned her look of confusion on the man.

He scowled back. "Let's get this over with."

Crouching down, he presented his back to her. She gingerly bent over him, clasping her arms around his neck. His skin was icy to the touch. Wrapping a hand around each of her legs, he stood to his feet and shrugged his shoulders. "You ain't nothing, darling."

Before she could reply, he sprang away. His legs became a blur beneath them as he picked up speed, each stride taking them yards at a time. She tightened her grip around his neck. Despite his appearance, the man didn't stink. In fact, he barely had any smell at all. The barren landscape slid past them with alarming speed, the brush becoming a smooth stream of colors punctuated every so often by large dark shapes. Wind whistled past her ears and stung her eyes. She squinted against it, blinking back the tears so she could still see where they were going. Even if she couldn't change the man's direction or speed, being able to see the desert ahead of them gave her some feeling of control.

Soon, Victoria found herself settling into the journey. For all his lecherousness and arrogance, the man's stride didn't jostle her around nearly as much as she thought it would. She almost felt as though she were back on the train, riding through the night on her way home. But for the wind, she might have dozed off.

After a while, she could see a large shadow ahead, crouched against the horizon. As it grew, the man began slowing his pace. Indistinct shapes became houses and buildings. Soon, she could make out the main avenue, along which stood Cora's saloon. She even thought she recognized the train station, a squat building to the left of the biggest cluster.

Her courier stopped before they reached the buildings and dumped her on the ground. Holding out her arms to break her fall, she scraped one of her palms bloody. She picked herself up and turned to face him, cradling her injured hand. His blue eyes simmered with an inflamed hunger.

"You ain't making this easy, darlin," he said.

"What do you mean?" she asked, drawing away from him.

He just shook his head. "There's others. Don't get it in your head that I ain't fixing for you, though. That squaw ain't the boss of me, and I reckon I'll have my way with you soon enough. Maybe I'll even make you my wife. How'd you like that?"

Victoria's back stiffened. Another betrothal she wanted no part of. "Thank you for bringing me back," she said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I could do with a good sleep."

"One more thing." He leaned in close, his breath brushing her cheek. "Tell that Oglesby bitch that I'm gunning for her."

The reply left her mouth before she could think twice. "What shall I say? 'Oh, Madam Oglesby, a gentleman said he wants you dead'? Hardly a credible threat."

His eyes flashed. "I ain't got to take your lip, missie."

"It isn't cheek, my good man," Victoria said. "I'm just not certain Cora will take an anonymous threat seriously. She's not exactly a timid woman."

"Oh, she'll listen to me," he said. A smirk came to his lips then. "Tell her that Fodor Glava is aiming to finish what he started."