The Dead of Winter

THIRTEEN



Cora leaned back in the saddle and surveyed the motley bunch assembled before her. The men slouched in their saddles, shoulders hunched against the cold wind blowing down from the mountain. Snow swirled around them in silvery whirlwinds, catching the sunlight like a thousand glass shards. Next to her, James Townsend sat atop a brown stallion, looking unhappy.

Sighing, Cora lifted her Colt from its holster and dropped it back into place. She didn't like bringing this many men, but it couldn't be helped. They were riding against a small army of vampires; they needed all the help they could get. Standing up in her stirrups, she pulled the bandana down to her chin.

"All right, gentlemen, this is how it is," she yelled over the wind. "We're about to charge into a dark, dusty mine that's filled with undead monsters." The men exchanged glances. "I know King George here filled you all in on what's going on up there, so don't act like you ain't in the know. I see your crosses and your garlic, so I know you're prepared.

"The good news is you ain't going to be doing much of the fighting your own selves. That's what me and George are here for. All you boys need to concern yourselves with is keeping them from rushing us all at once. Ben here will stay with you and show you how it's done, so keep your wits and you'll do fine.

"But," she added before the men could relax, "that don't mean it ain't going to be dangerous. We're riding into a nest of demons, and maybe not all of us will be riding out. Stay frosty, stay loose, and above all, stay where you can hear me." She looked each of the ten men in the eye, one at a time. "As far as you're concerned, I'm the Queen of England. What I say is law, on account of I know what I'm doing and you don't. I'm the big damn hero here, and don't you forget it."

Cora drew her saber and let it flash in the afternoon sunlight. "Now then, let's go win us back a mine."

The men gave a half-hearted cheer through their bandanas, raising their crosses in the air. Cora waved her saber in a circle over her head, then sat down and turned Our Lady of Virginia toward the mines. Ben and James rode on either side of her, and the rest of the men filed into two columns behind them.

"Ten men is the best you could scare up?" Cora asked, giving James a sidelong glance.

"It isn't as though Lord Harcourt keeps a standing army of vampire hunters living at his private retreat, Mrs Oglesby," James said. "I had to make do with what I could find."

"What did you find?"

"Stable hands. Butlers. Whoever had a free afternoon," James said.

Cora turned her head to stare at him. "You ain't serious?"

"Of course," James replied, returning her gaze. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because we can't take a bunch of stable boys into a nest of vampires. Ain't you got hunters or hounds or something a little more able? Ain't you and Harcourt into hunting like that other British lord feller up there in Estes Park?"

"Oh my, no," James said. "Lord Harcourt finds hunting rather distasteful, and I must say I share the feeling. We both find scholarly pursuits much more rewarding."

"That don't sound familiar at all," Cora said, tossing Ben a look. "I swear, I don't know why I came out here without my bottle. Killing vampires with a pair of uptight schoolteachers ain't sober work no matter how you cut it."

"Ain't like you done it before," Ben said. "When was the last time you hunted sober?"

"In the farm fields when I was just a sprout," Cora said. "Hunting grasshoppers for my pa."

"What's that?" James asked.

"I was just reminding Ben here that I ain't been sober since I was about ten."

"Are you serious?" James asked, the shock in his voice clear even through his scarf. "You've been a tippler since you were a child?"

"Why, sure," Cora said. "I learned good and young that there ain't no point to fighting sober. I shoot straighter after I've had me a few, anyhow."

"At least until you start seeing double," Ben said.

"Why, I'll still hit both of them between the eyes," Cora said.

"Both of what?" James said.

"Hush up if you ain't going to pay attention, George," Cora said. "Just keep riding that pretty carriage horse of yours."

"I beg your pardon," James said. "This is a thoroughbred hackney from pedigree stock, I'll have you know. The Prince of Wales himself couldn't ask for a finer horse."

"I don't reckon he could," Cora said. "Them's a fine breed for hauling rich folk around all day, but it ain't no riding animal. You'd be better off on a mule."

"Forgive me if I'm not accustomed to riding the same commonplace animals you content yourself with, madam, but my standards happen to be slightly more refined than all of that. It's hardly my concern if you're so consumed with jealousy that you must fall to insults."

"Let's stop fighting, girls," Ben said. "We got other things to worry about."

"You heard what he said about my horse," Cora said. "You think I can just let that go?"

"You will if you want me to hold them boys together," Ben said. "I ain't riding into no mine with a pair of hunters that can't get along for more than half a tick."

"All right, have it your way," Cora said. "I just figured old George would be more grateful for my pulling that vampire off his neck this morning. He ain't said a word of thanks."

"A vampire that we never would have encountered had you not ventured past the barricades," James said.

"Enough!" Ben said, his voice rising.

Cora shot him a look, but rode on in silence. James dropped the argument as well, and pushed his hat down over his ears. The hackney brown held his head high as they rode, his mane shining in the afternoon sun.

Cora turned her head and looked at the line of men following them. They were silent, their eyes forward. She felt a twinge of pity for them. Here they were, a ragtag gang of butlers and stable boys riding toward a nightmare of terror and death. She hadn't been bluffing when she'd told them that not all of them might be riding back out of the mine, but that was before she'd known they weren't even fighters. She thought James could have found a more capable army, even if that meant pulling from the mining crews. Miners were tougher, at least, and they would have known the tunnels better than Harcourt's house staff. The thought had probably never crossed James's mind, though.

Soon, the dark face of the mining facility crept into view. Cora pulled back on Our Lady's reins before she crossed into the building's shadow, looking the place over as James dismounted. It seemed as though nothing had changed since the morning, yet she felt uneasy. A gust of wind blew snow down from the roof into her face. She cursed and raised her arm, trying to shield herself from the freezing shards. She nudged her mare forward, keeping her head low as she rode toward the front door.

"Cora," James called. Something in his voice made her look up. He was standing by the door, bent over so his face was level with the knob.

"What is it, George?" she asked, dismounting.

"Have a look at this," he said.

Cora approached the door. "Well, I'll be damned," she muttered, looking at the shattered ruins of the lock. "Looks like somebody had a hankering for some of your silver, after all."

"So it would seem," James said. He pushed the door open and peered into the darkness. "I wonder if the poor soul is still alive."

"As something, no doubt," Cora said. "I doubt that poor soul of his is still here, though."

James gave her a correcting look, then turned and took a few steps into the building. "Fetch me a lantern, would you, dear?"

"Get your own," Cora said, pushing her way past him. She went over to the desk and picked up one of the lanterns from that morning. She lit it and surveyed the office. "Nothing looks different here."

"Are you sure?" James asked. "I could have sworn I placed the two lanterns side by side when we left this morning."

"Ain't much of a thief that comes through a silver mine and only takes a lantern," Cora said. "Maybe he didn't even get past the office before he got spooked and humped it back to town."

"I reckon he was too busy dragging something through it," Ben said from the doorway. He crouched down and ran his fingers over the floor. "Floor's all scratched up."

"Let me see," Cora said, moving over to crouch beside him. In the yellow glow of the lantern, she could see several parallel scratches along the wooden floor of the office. "Wasn't that big, whatever it was."

"Whatever what was?" James asked.

"Whatever that fellow dragged out of your mine," Cora said.

"You found something?"

"Ain't you been listening?" Cora said. "Somebody dragged something out of here."

"Are you sure?" James asked. He stepped around the desk and knelt down to inspect it himself. "Well, isn't that interesting?"

"Anything in there that could make tracks like this?" Cora asked.

"Not that I'm aware of," James said. "Of course, these tracks don't mean anything was stolen."

Cora looked at him. "The evidence is right under your boots."

"I see the tracks," James said, "but they could have just as easily been made by something being dragged inside."

Cora blinked, then looked back down at the scratches. "Never thought of that."

"I know," James said. "It would also seem that you haven't yet thought to invite the rest of the team inside."

She looked at Ben. "Ain't those boys your responsibility?" she asked him.

"Hardly," James replied before Ben could say a word. "You're the combat expert, and we are taking them into combat."

"Button your lip," Cora said, glaring at the scholar. She turned toward the door and cupped her hands around her mouth. "All right, boys, pile on in here!"

The men shuffled through the door in single file, their faces red from the cold. Once inside, a few of them pulled their bandanas down and blew into their gloves. One volunteer almost looked too young to shave. Cora shook her head as she watched them, praying that they would live to see the next morning.

"You boys ready?" she asked.

They nodded, shuffling their boots. Some of them had lanterns hanging from their belts. Cora held up hers and pointed to it. They took the hint, holding them out for her to light. She lit each in turn, and the small office was soon awash in the warm glow.

Suddenly, something slammed into Cora's back, knocking her forward into the group. The lantern fell from her hand and smashed apart on the floor, spilling flames into the dust. A chorus of surprised hollers filled the room as the men instinctively covered their heads. Cora fell facefirst into their boots, the weight behind her pinning her down. She felt cold hands grab her elbows and yank her arms backward. Pain exploded in her shoulders, sending waves down her arms and across her neck. Her spine popped as the creature pulled. Each breath became a battle. A moment later, she heard a sharp hiss and felt the scraping of razor-sharp fangs against her neck.

The hands suddenly released her. She flopped forward, but caught herself before her face smashed into the floor. Forcing air back into her lungs, she pushed herself onto her hands and knees. Somewhere behind her, she could hear banging, scraping, and hissing. Her fingers curled into fists as she pulled herself to her feet and turned toward the sound.

James was grappling with the vampire against the far wall. His right hand held a wooden cross in a death grip, and he kept trying to press it against the monster's chest. The vampire growled and snapped at him with jagged fangs, trying to shove the cross away without getting too close to it. James pressed his attack, always keeping the cross just beyond the reach of those cold fingers.

Seeing an opening, he thrust the cross into the undead face, and the vampire recoiled in fear. James took advantage of the brief respite and reached for something at his belt. Not feeling what he was looking for, he glanced down. The vampire seized its chance, throwing itself into him. He tumbled backward, and the cross flew from his grip. He fell to the floor with a heavy thud and screamed as the monster pinned his arms down. Pale lips drew back from the mouthful of jagged teeth. With a hiss of anger, the vampire's head descended on the scholar's neck.

Thunder filled the small room, causing dust to stream down from the rafters. The vampire reeled from the bullet's impact, and Cora fired again. The second round punched a smoking hole clean through the undead skull, and the monster collapsed.

Everyone stood in silence for a moment, waiting for the harsh ringing in their ears to fade. Blue smoke hung in the air. After a few seconds, Cora lowered her revolver.

"Anyone dead?" she asked.

"Just this fellow," James said, struggling beneath the corpse. Cora gave the body a solid kick with her boot, and it rolled aside.

"Seems we got a problem," she said, looking at the scholar. "I guess they ain't scared of them contraptions in the tunnels no more."

"A disturbing development, certainly," James replied, "but not one I fully understand."

"Don't take a genius to figure it out," Cora said.

"Yes, it's clear they've gotten past the barricades, but the question is, how?" James stepped over to his fallen cross and picked it up. "You saw it for yourself: the vampire was still weakened by this cross. They clearly haven't developed an immunity to holy items, so they must have discovered a way around the ones in the tunnels."

Cora was about to reply when Ben cut in. "Meaning that the rest of the nest could come galloping through that door any minute. Let's get a move on."

"Yeah, you're right," Cora said.

"Of course I am," James said, tucking the cross into his belt. "Now, let's get a move on." He motioned for the rest of the men to follow him, but they remained in place, staring at the fallen vampire. Rolling her eyes, Cora drew her saber. There was a wet crunch as the blade sliced through the monster's flesh. Holding the head aloft by a tuft of hair, she waved it at the group.

"See, boys? It's dead." She tossed the head onto the desk. "Can't hurt you no more."

The head rolled off the edge of the desk and thumped to the floor. They flinched as one, then began shuffling toward James. Cora grinned as she watched them go. With a little luck, a few of them might close the day out with a kill of their own.

She wiped her sword clean on her coat sleeve and sheathed it. She stepped over the headless corpse and went to retrieve her lantern. A curse fell from her lips when she found the shattered remains. The struggle with the vampire had snuffed out the small flame, leaving her without a light. In a flash of anger, she kicked the broken lantern against the wall, shattering what remained of the glass casing. She cursed again before following the group into the mine.

"Keep them crosses handy, boys," Cora called out as she stepped into the large processing room. "Never know when a big ugly is going to fly into your face with them fangs snapping." She reached into her belt pouch and pulled out a small rosary. She rolled the beads between her fingers and smiled. Two kills for the day so far, and night hadn't even fallen yet.

James stood at the mouth of the first tunnel, peering forward into the darkness beyond the edge of his lantern's halo. Behind him, Ben faced the silent collection of mine carts, his silver dagger in his hand. Cora was glad he'd remembered to bring it. A crucifix was a handy tool against vampires, but nothing could top sticking them with a length of holy silver.

Walking past the nervous group of men, Cora joined the two of them by the tunnel entrance. "Any good ideas, boys?" she asked in a low voice.

"I found what I believe to be the vampire's tracks," James said, pointing to the dirt covering the floor of the tunnel. Something had clawed at it, leaving narrow streaks through the pebbles. "It would appear he came at us on all fours."

"Ain't the only one come through here, either," Cora said, pointing at another spot. "If that ain't a boot print, I'm the Queen of Sheba."

James bent down for a closer look. "Could have been made by one of the miners."

"No, it's a riding boot," Cora said. "Heel's too high for a miner's boot."

Before James could reply, the sound of scraping gravel echoed from deep within the tunnel. They both looked up, but the shadows blocked their view beyond a few yards.

"Look sharp, boys!" Cora called over her shoulder. "Pack in tight and watch our rears." The men obeyed, forming a semi-circle around the tunnel entrance. They fingered their crosses as they peered at the vast darkness around them.

"Keep them steady," Cora said to Ben. "I don't want them spooking and running off to get themselves killed."

Ben nodded and stepped back to join the circle. As she stared into the tunnel, Cora's fingers closed around the rosary. She thumbed back the Colt's hammer with her other hand as the echoes grew louder.

When the first vampire broke into the lamplight, time seemed to slow to a crawl. She could see the pebbles flying from beneath the vampire's hands and feet as it rushed toward them, fangs bared. Cora took aim at the soulless face, a psalm coming to her lips.

"Save me, O God, by Thy name."

She squeezed the trigger.

"Judge me by Thy strength."

The cylinder clicked as she pulled back the hammer.

"Hear my prayer, O God."

She took aim at a second vampire.

"Give ear to the words of my mouth."

The vampire tumbled to the ground.

"For strangers are risen up against me."

Another flash.

"Oppressors seek after my soul."

Thunder. The empty pistol fell from her hand.

"Behold, God is mine helper."

Her saber flashed in the light.

"He shall reward evil unto mine enemies."

She charged forward over the ruined corpses and into the oncoming rush. Human shapes lurched out of the shadows, and she cut them down, the sanctified blade carving smoking gashes in the unholy flesh. A thrust through an undead heart, a slash across a rotting neck, a cry for the joy of battle, and the tunnel was silent once more.

"For He hath delivered me out of all trouble: and mine eye hath seen His desire upon mine enemies." Cora's voice echoed off of the stone walls. Head bowed, she stood amid a pile of smoking corpses. The rosary hung from her left hand, her palm pressing the beads into the hilt of the saber.

Taking a deep breath, she turned back to the group. Her eyes glittered in the lamplight. "You boys OK?"

They stared at her in stunned silence.

"We ain't got all day, now," she said. "I reckon these ones here was only half their numbers, and we still ain't found the big bad pulling their strings."

"My heart, Cora," James said. "What just happened?"

"I was earning my pay," Cora said. She cleaned off the blade and slid it home. "You was expecting something different?"

"You've just slain over half a dozen vampires, and in a matter of seconds," James said. "I've never even heard of such a thing being done by one person."

"You ain't reading the right books, then," Cora said as she retrieved her fallen revolver. She dumped the spent shells on one of the corpses and pulled fresh rounds from her belt. "Hell, we've done this plenty of times. Granted, we was hunting a pack of hellhounds, not vampires, but you still go about it the same way: trap them in a small space, line them up, and cut them down."

James just shook his head, speechless.

"All right, Ben," she called. "Bring them boys on through."

James looked back and waved at them, then turned back toward Cora and began picking his way around the lifeless arms and legs littering the tunnel floor. Cora fell in behind him, her boots cracking ribs with a sound like a popping fire. She could hear the shuffling of the men's feet as they followed them deeper into the tunnel.

After a few minutes, the party reached the ruined cross. James and Cora crouched down and inspected the damage.

"Not the work of a vampire," James concluded after a few moments.

"No, sir," Cora said. "No way they could get up close enough."

"It looks as though our intruder had a similar revulsion for holy objects," James said. "The damage is quite extensive." He stood up and looked around. "Come to think of it, he seems to have made some of them vanish. I distinctly remember erecting three crosses here."

Cora looked at the dirt covering the floor. "Didn't drag them out, neither."

"This would explain how the vampires escaped, at least," James said. "That's a comfort."

"Ain't much of one," Cora said, "but I reckon it'll have to do."

She waved James forward, and he took up his position at the head of the line. They continued down the tunnel, silent except for the shuffling of their boots. The light from their lanterns kept the shadows at bay, and James continued his habit of lighting the tunnel lamps as they moved forward.

Soon, the tunnel walls gave way to a cavern. Cora called for a halt. The men formed a cluster behind her, their lanterns throwing long, human-shaped shadows in every direction. The echoes of their footsteps died away. In the following silence, Cora strained her ears, listening for the slightest sound from beyond the ring of light, but nothing came. After a few minutes, Ben stepped up beside her.

"Anything wrong?" he whispered.

She shook her head. "No, and that's the problem."

"What is?" James whispered.

"Ain't nothing here," Cora said. "If them vampires is really in here, they're being more quiet than they ought to."

"Perhaps they're frightened of us," James said.

"Right," Cora said, throwing him a look. "Nobody's waving their crosses or garlic in the air, so they don't know to be scared of us. Dumb as we look, any vampire would take us for a proper feast. You said there was at least a dozen of them suckers in here, right?" James nodded. "Well, we ain't killed that many yet, so the rest of the nest should be fixing to drink us dry to replace the losses."

The men overheard her, and shuffling began echoing through the cavern. Cora waved her hand, and they quieted down. She listened for a few more moments, then sighed.

"Hey!" she yelled, startling the group. "You suckers in here?" Her voice bounced off the invisible stone walls. "Come on out! We're plumb dripping with hot, juicy blood!"

"What on earth are you doing?" James whispered.

"Proving a point," Cora said. "Now hush."

They stood in silence for a minute, their ears ringing from Cora's shout. Finally, the hunter nodded in satisfaction.

"Yep, this place is as empty as Jack Evans's head."

James stared at her in stunned silence, but Ben laughed. "You've proved your point."

"Damn right I have," Cora said. "Now let's get out of here."

"I beg your pardon?" James asked.

"We're leaving, George. Ain't nothing else to be done here."

"Surely you aren't serious," James said. "We haven't eliminated the remaining vampires."

"They ain't here," Cora said, "and frankly, that makes me a good sight more worried than if they was."

James blinked at her. "Whatever for?" He smiled then, showing his teeth. "We've reclaimed the mine! Our job here is done."

"No, it ain't." Cora turned and started walking through the group. "It just got all kinds of messy. Instead of a nest of vampires trapped nice and pretty in a mine, we've got a nest of vampires free to roam about as they please. And, if you're right about how vampires work, we've still got a big bad to burn out somewhere."

James scrambled after her, and the rest of the men followed. Ben brought up the rear, keeping his crucifix pointed behind them as they entered the tunnel.

"You're a real boost to the morale, you know," James said when he caught up to her. "I'm beginning to understand why you work alone."

"Ben don't seem to mind," Cora said. "I reckon the rest of you is just too soft."

"Or perhaps we're of sound mind and you're barking mad," James said. "Still, I suppose even that has its advantages, especially in your line of work. It makes you stronger, more reckless and unafraid of the horrors you face."

"I may be crazy, but that ain't why I'm good," Cora said. "I'm good because I've had plenty of practice. Me and Ben been doing this job for near about twenty years now. When you been at something that long, you find your knack for doing it."

"Twenty years?" James raised his eyebrows. "It truly is a miracle that you're still alive."

"By the grace of the Lord," Cora said, crossing herself.

"How did you first get into the business?"

Cora glanced at the ruined cross as they passed. "You know of the war between the states?" James nodded. "Well, that's how."

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Ben and I was raised and married in the South. Virginia, to be exact," Cora said. "Once the war was over, we didn't have much by way of anything. No homes, no family, no nothing." She spat in the dirt. "Damn Yankees took all that away from us when they came through and burned out our town. On top of that, they went and made a law that said we couldn't head west and claim our own land to start over. Our hands was tied everywhere we turned, so we had to think of something else.

"We was plain stumped for a spell before Ben came up with the idea of bounty hunting. He figured since he'd trained some with guns and swords in the Confederate army, we could come out west and round up crooks and rustlers. Being raised on a farm, I already knew my way around horses. I taught him to ride and he taught me to shoot, and we sold what little we had left to buy some tickets out to Saint Louis."

"I'm with you so far," James said, stepping around the fallen vampires in the tunnel, "but it's still a big leap from arriving in St Louis to hunting the supernatural."

"Hold your horses for a tick and I'll get there," Cora said. "As I said, we showed up in St Louis with our guns, our horses, and not a damn clue as to going about hunting bounties. Ben figured we could just check in with the sheriff and he'd set us on our way, but turned out it ain't that easy. Back then, the James gang was just getting their start, Indians was still a big threat west of Dodge, and the railroad didn't go all the way through to the Pacific yet. You couldn't take ten steps without falling afoul of somebody or other."

"Sounds like an ideal set of circumstances for bounty hunters," James said.

Cora nodded. "So it was, which was exactly why we was in a fix. Saint Louis was crawling with folk hunting bounties and folk with bounties on their heads. Couldn't make sense of which was which, and the sheriff wasn't no help to us. We was penniless and in a strange city, so we turned to the Church. A priest called Father Higgins took us in and gave us a place to sleep for a few nights. He asked us why we was in Saint Louis, and we told him. When we did, he got a funny look on his face, and he says, 'What kind of bounties you hunt?'

"'Just about any we can find,' Ben says.

"'Can you spare some help for an old priest like me?' he says.

"Me and Ben looked at each other for a moment. 'Why, sure,' Ben says. 'We owe you, anyway.'

"Father Higgins got a big grin on his face then. He started telling us how he had himself a problem with a local coven of witches. Seems they was set on calling demons out of hell into this world. The local law and bounty hunters couldn't help him none, not wanting to dirty their hands with anything unnatural and all. Father Higgins was up a tree about it, and had nobody to help him out. Ben and I talked it over, but we really didn't have no choice. This nice old man had taken us in, and he needed help.

"So we took the job, and soon we found where the witches was hiding. They'd managed to conjure up a hellhound that they kept in a big cage in this old abandoned schoolhouse on the outskirts of the city. We saw that and figured it'd be suicide to fight them with what we had, so Ben gets the idea to ask the priest if he had any sort of holy weapons we could use. Father Higgins asked a blacksmith to melt down one of them silver crosses from his altar, mix it with lead, and make us some bullets. Once he had them, the priest gave them a blessing and handed them to us.

"We took them holy bullets back to the schoolhouse with us and set them witches to running. They set their pet hellhound on us, but Ben shot it square in the head with the special bullets and killed it stone dead. I managed to round up a good number of the witches, and we dragged them back to Father Higgins so he could set them straight.

"When we got back, the priest was so happy to see that we did the job that he near burst out crying. After he pulled himself together, he said we could find work doing that sort of thing if we wanted. Lots of folk out here had trouble with hellhounds and witches and whatnot, but there wasn't but a few folks in the business of killing such critters. The priesthood does what it can, but most priests ain't fighters, so they was looking for some more heroes. We enjoyed the job we did well enough, so we figured we'd try it out for a spell. Father Higgins let us keep the rest of the bullets he made for us and sent word to the other priests that we was in the business now.

"Now, a score of years later, here we are, still doing the same business. Hasn't all been glory and high spirits, but we stayed alive and made a living besides."

"A fascinating story, certainly," James said. They had arrived back in the foreman's office, and the rest of the men were waiting by the door, looking anxious.

"I like to think so," Cora said.

"One thing puzzles me, though." James set his lantern on the desk. "You say your husband has accompanied you all these years, yet I don't seem to recall ever meeting him. Do the two of you work separately?"

Cora looked at him in shock. "Why, he's been with us all afternoon." Looking over at the group of men by the door, she searched through their faces, but couldn't find Ben's. "He must have gone out to see to the horses just now. I swear I introduced the two of you when we talked to Harcourt, or even on the train back from Denver. He was asleep on the other bench, remember?"

"I'm afraid I don't," James said, "though I must admit I wasn't entirely sober that day. Still, you must introduce me when we get outside. I feel rather sheepish for having ignored him all this time."

"Well, he's easy to ignore," Cora said. "Why, I forget he's in the room half the time when he's into one of his books."

"Books, you say?" James asked, a smile spreading across his face. "Your husband is a bibliophile?" Cora gave him a blank look. "A book lover."

She laughed. "You got that right."

"I beg your pardon." The voice came from the cluster of men by the door. "Might this conversation be continued elsewhere?"

James turned and looked at the man who spoke. "Getting impatient, are we, Edward?"

An older man nodded. "Yes, actually."

"I suppose it is getting late," James said, examining his pocket watch. "I hope Constance remembered to put the kettle on, or tea will be late."

"Can't have that, now," Cora said. "All right, boys, go get your horses. Let's get out of here."

The men jostled one another as each fought to be the first out the door. Cora took one last look around the office. The rest of the vampires could still be lurking somewhere in the shadows beyond the door, watching them leave. They could rot there for all she cared. Night would bring them swarming out of the mine like ants. Leadville was quite a few miles away, and she didn't think they'd roam so far after losing half their numbers. Still, if they had a mastermind driving them, predicting their movements would be impossible. They wouldn't behave like normal animals.

"Shall we?" James asked.

"Shouldn't we put up a cross or something?" Cora said. "Try to keep them bottled in?"

James shook his head. "They have a human accomplice now. We'll need to find and eliminate him before we can move against the nosferatu." He turned and walked out the door.

"Whatever you say," Cora said, tossing up her hands and following him outside. Although she walked in the shadow of the building, she still had to squint against the afternoon sunlight glimmering on the peaks around them. Most of the men had already mounted and were facing the road leading back to Harcourt's retreat. The sight brought a smile to her lips. At least they were all making it out alive.

Cora looked skyward, trying to gauge the remaining daylight, but all she saw was a dark shape plummet from the roof onto the British scholar. James didn't have time to holler before the vampire drove him into the ground. His legs thrashed against it, tossing snow into the air, but the vampire held him down. The snow muffled his cry as the fangs sank into the back of his neck.

"In nomine Patris!" Cora's boots pounded across the snow as she drew her saber. Diving into the undead monster point-first, she knocked it clear of James's prostrate form. Vampire and hunter rolled over the ground, snow sticking to the gray flesh. The monster ended up on top, Cora's sword lodged in its side. Smoke poured from the wound, but the creature ignored it and wrapped cold fingers around her braid. She spat curses and struggled against the iron grip. It seemed to mock her, baring its fangs in front of her eyes instead of sinking them into her throat.

Then, without warning, the vampire turned and leapt away.

The rushing of cold air into her lungs drowned out the screams at first. When they reached her ears, she picked her head up and squinted at the sound. The dark shape of the vampire crouched on the snow, pinning a writhing pair of legs beneath it. Beyond it, a riderless horse stamped in fear among the rest of the mounted men, who were backing up into the sunlight. Cora struggled to her feet before realizing that her sword was still stuck in the monster's side. She pulled her pistol from her belt and forced her legs into a run.

The vampire heard her approach and raised its head, blood soaking its matted beard. Even at this distance, Cora could see the gleam in its eyes as it reveled in the fresh kill. She pointed her revolver at that gleam and squeezed the trigger. The gunshot echoed against the wall of the mining complex. Smoke erupted from the vampire's forehead as it pitched backward into the snow.

Cora didn't check her stride, her boots kicking up small chunks of snow. She could sense the line of men on horseback staring at her, but she ignored them, keeping her revolver trained on the fallen vampire. It lay sprawled on its back, one hip jutting toward the afternoon sky. She pressed the toe of her boot into the mottled shoulder, pushed it over, pulled her sword free, and lopped off the monster's head. She considered it for a moment, then looked up at the line of mounted men. Before they could react, she raised her boot and kicked the head straight at them. A number of them hollered, holding up their arms to protect their faces, but the head left the mountain's shadow before it reached them and disintegrated into a fine dust.

"That isn't very amusing," one of the men said.

Cora's smirk widened, but she didn't reply. Instead, she turned and inspected the vampire's victim. It was an elderly man clad in a tweed suit beneath his wool coat. Puncture wounds lined both sides of his throat. Dark streaks of blood trailed down his neck into the snow, but no fresh blood flowed.

Footsteps approached, and she glanced up. James looked disheveled, his glasses crooked and his tie loose around his neck. His face contorted with sorrow when he recognized the fallen man.

"Ah, poor Edward," he said. "I knew I shouldn't have brought him."

"He is kind of old for this work, ain't he?" Cora said.

James nodded. "I even told him as much back at the retreat, but he insisted on coming. Old fool kept blathering on about his duty to House Harcourt and all of that, so I finally agreed. Now look where I got him."

"Ain't your fault, James," Cora said. "Why, you should be thanking your lucky stars that it ain't you where he is right now."

"I suppose you deserve the majority of the thanks," James said.

"Well, then, I reckon you owe me a drink," Cora said. "Anyhow, this feller's already working his way toward becoming a vampire himself, so unless you got any pressing business with him, I'll get right to taking his head off."

James sighed and nodded, turning his face away as Cora's saber came down on the old man's neck. She wiped the blade clean on the snow next to the body, then dried it on her coat and slid it home. James turned back toward the old man and knelt. He reached into his pocket, produced a small clove of garlic, and stuffed it into the victim's mouth. He muttered a brief prayer, then stood and looked at Cora. "Shall we?"

"I reckon so," Cora said. "You want to bring him back for a proper burial?"

"I'll send a wagon for him in the morning," James said. "The vrykolakas will have no interest in his remains."

"If you say so," Cora said. "You got to get the retreat ready, anyhow."

"Ready?" a young man from the group asked. "Ready for what?"

James looked skyward at the waning daylight. "For the coming darkness."