Dead of Winter (29 page)

  Cora stared after the cloud for a moment before turning back into the room. She searched through it, but only found the body of Wash Jones and the vampire's coffin. She gave the pine box a few kicks with her boot before the sword fell from her shaking fingers. She collapsed to her knees and held her face in her hands as powerful sobs shook her body. The memory of Ben's eyes filled with contempt and murderous rage filled her mind. She kept telling herself that it hadn't really been him, that it was just his image being used like a puppet by that monster, but that thought only reminded her that he was gone. His sweet words, his banter, and his smile had been stolen from her, and she would never find them again.

  After a few minutes, the storm subsided, and she struggled to her feet. Metal rasped in the silence as she sheathed her saber and walked back into the hallway. Her pistol still lay where the apparition of Boots had thrown it. She slipped it back into its holster, wiped her eyes, and began a slow descent down the stairs.

   Halfway down the stairway, a thought brought her up short. What if the vampire had been lying? Maybe Ben wasn't really dead after all. She hadn't found his body when she'd gone through the room, and she would have if the vampire had killed him before capturing her. The image of Ben must have been a trick, some black magic used to catch her off guard and make her easy prey. He had to be with Mart Duggan, setting up defenses for the town.

  Her boots pounded down the stairway and out into the cold afternoon. The street bustled with the citizens of Leadville, miners and bankers and whores. Several passersby gave her odd looks as she darted between carts and around slow-moving horses, but she paid them no heed. She needed to see her husband with her own eyes, to touch his face and assure herself that it had all been a cruel trick.

  The door to the marshal's station barely withstood her entrance. A deputy she didn't recognize sat at the desk, looking as though he had just soiled himself. He pointed a pistol at her, but the barrel wavered in his hand.

  "Where's Duggan?" Cora demanded. The deputy just blinked at her. She stormed past him and threw open the door to the marshal's office.

  Duggan was seated behind his desk cleaning his big Colt. "Something I can do for you, Mrs Oglesby?"

  "Where's Ben?" she asked.

  "Ben?"

  "My husband," Cora said, panic and irritation welling up inside her. "Ben Oglesby. A few inches taller than you, blue eyes, neat mustache. He was supposed to drop by and let you know that there's a swarm of vampires that might come calling tonight."

  The marshal put his gun on the desk. "Vampires in my town? How many?"

  "That ain't important," Cora said. "Have you seen Ben?"

  "Can't say I have," Duggan said. He looked back down at his gun. "Come to think of it, I don't think I ever met your husband. You should bring him around some time so we can get acquainted proper."

  Cora stood in silence, her mind racing. Had Ben ever met Marshal Duggan? Now that she thought on it, she wasn't sure he ever had. She'd been the one dealing with the marshal most of the time, so maybe Duggan had never actually seen Ben.

  "Sir?" a shaky voice said behind her. "Should I arrest her?"

  Duggan looked behind her. "Don't fret, Kelley. She ain't no criminal."

  Cora turned to see the strange deputy holster his gun. "Ain't seen him before," she said.

  The marshal nodded. "Pat Kelley. He's new. Got him to replace George Murray."

  "Swell," Cora said. "Hope he can fight vampires." She fixed Duggan with an intense glare. "You've got some visitors coming, so best make ready. They don't take to crosses or garlic, so keep some handy."

  She turned to leave, but the marshal's voice stopped her. "That's it? You ain't helping us?"

  "I got to find my husband first," Cora said, struggling to keep her voice calm. "He's gone missing. We can't help nobody like that."

  Cora left the office without waiting for Duggan's reply. Ignoring the new deputy, she stepped out onto the street and folded her arms, trying to swallow her increasing panic. Where might Ben have gone? He hadn't made it to the marshal's station, and he wasn't given to wandering about. Maybe he hadn't made it out of the hotel yet. She thought she saw him leave, but maybe he forgot something and had to turn back, or maybe he'd run into one of James Townsend's men and gone off to help them at Harcourt's retreat. The situation must have been serious if he'd joined them before checking in with Duggan.

  Her spurs sang her alarm as she ran toward the Northern Hotel. If Ben wasn't there, she would fetch Our Lady from the stable and head out to the retreat. James must need help to hold back the vampires if he was desperate enough to spare a man to look for her and Ben. She hoped she wouldn't be too late.

  Cora threw open the hotel's front door and took the stairs two at a time. Their room was empty. She checked to make sure that their wards were still in place, then knelt down by the trunk, set the crucifix aside, and raised the lid. It didn't look as though Ben had taken anything out of it, though there wasn't much left that he could have used. His rusty revolver lay at the bottom of the trunk amid spare rounds and vials of holy water. She tucked a few more rounds into her belt pouch and prepared to close the trunk when something caught her eye.

  There, half-covered by silver bullets, lay the silver dagger Ben had carried that morning. The weapon glimmered in her hand as she picked it up. If the blade was here, Ben must be out there with no weapon at all. What possessed him to ride out to the retreat unarmed was beyond her, but the sooner she found him, the better.

  Cora slipped the dagger into her boot before closing the trunk and propping the crucifix up against it. She thundered back down the stairs and made for the door. Thinking twice, she turned and walked over to the desk.

  "Make sure nobody goes into our room," she said.

  "OK," the clerk answered. "Which room is it?"

  "Twenty-four," Cora said. "The only ones allowed in there are me and my husband."

  The clerk dipped a quill into his inkwell and made a note. "What does your husband look like?"

  "You ain't seen him?" she asked. "We came through here about an hour ago. Was you sleeping on the job?"

  "No, ma'am," the clerk replied, looking uncomfortable. "I seen you walk in here awhile back, but there wasn't nobody with you."

  Cora pounded the desk with her fist. "Dammit, man, you must be blind."

  "I'm sorry, ma'am. I must have just missed him. If you tell me what he looks like, I'll be sure to let him into your room when he gets back."

  Cora gave him a brief description, then turned to leave. Pausing at the door, she looked over her shoulder. "If he comes by, tell him to head upstairs and stay put. I'll be back after I see to the retreat."

  The clerk nodded, but Cora didn't see it. She was already on her way to the hotel stable, her breath streaming in thin clouds as she muttered to herself. What was the matter with everyone? Ben's quiet nature could have him fall by the wayside in any conversation, but it wasn't like he was invisible. She'd make sure to kick him in the pants every so often to make him speak up in the future. People ignoring him like this made him hard to track down.

  Our Lady and Book nickered at her when she entered the stable. She shook her head again. Ben was too shortsighted to even take his horse. Panic gave her lungs another squeeze as she saddled up her mare. Ben had to be up at the retreat helping James hold the line against the vampires. Townsend must have sent a wagon, so Ben hadn't bothered with Book. When she finally found her husband, she would show him new ways to commit the sin of wrath before making him buy her a full quart of whiskey to calm her nerves.

  Cora fitted Book with a bridle, but there wasn't time to worry about a saddle. Once she made it up to the retreat and took care of the vampires, he could borrow a saddle from Harcourt's stable. It would probably be one of those worthless English saddles, but he deserved to ride back in shame. Maybe it would teach him not to disappear on her.

  Once she was clear of town, Cora pushed Our Lady into a full gallop. The mare flew over the icy road, her breath coming in great clouds that streamed out behind them. Book, having no rider, wanted to set a faster pace, but Cora held him in check. Together, the three of them thundered into the winter evening, hoping to reach Harcourt's retreat before time ran out.

  As the cold wind pummeled Cora's face, she began working on a strategy to defeat the master vampire. The upcoming fight at the retreat would destroy the rest of his army from the mines, but as long as the
nosferatu
remained alive the army of vampires wouldn't end. She wasn't sure how much damage he could do to the townsfolk while she and Ben were away, but she didn't think Mart Duggan and his boys could to do much to stop them. She and Ben would have to return to Leadville and try to sort out this mess before they could go to bed.

  Cora's shoulders slumped at the thought. Her arms and legs ached from the long day of riding, shooting, and swordplay. She longed for a soak in a hot tub and a good night's sleep, but it didn't look like either was in the cards for her tonight. The bottle she would make Ben buy her would have to do.

  The last of the afternoon sun glimmered on the manor's windows as she rode up. She dismounted and flipped both sets of reins over a spike in the iron fence. The horses were in a lather from the hard run, though Book still held his head high. Cora pulled her Winchester from Our Lady's saddle and chambered a round before running for the door.

  A young face answered her frantic knocking. When the boy saw her, he seemed to deflate with relief. She clapped him on the shoulder, knocking him to the floor. Other faces peered at her from various doors as she passed. Making eye contact with one, she pulled her bandana down from her face.

  "Where's Ben Oglesby?" she asked. The man replied with a blank look. "How about Townsend? You seen him?"

  That got her a nod and a finger pointing further down the hall. Cora followed the silent directions, her rifle still in her hands. As she walked, she took note of the retreat's condition. The defenders watching her pass looked tired but still wary, and none of the furnishings looked disturbed. If there had been a fight here, it must not have been serious.

  She found James Townsend in Harcourt's study, seated in one of the chairs facing the fire. He looked up as she approached. "Cora? What brings you here?"

  "Where's my husband?" she asked.

  "Your husband?" James looked confused. "I haven't seen him. I thought I told you as much earlier."

  "You did," Cora said, "but now he ain't anywhere." The panic in her voice became impossible to hide. "You're sure you ain't seen him around? I thought he might have come up here to help you out."

  "I'm sorry, but he hasn't stopped by," James said. He rose out of his chair, a concerned look on his face. "What made you think he was here?"

  "Because he ain't anywhere else," Cora said. "He ain't anywhere, and that vampire said that he…" she trailed off, unable to say the words aloud.

  "What vampire?" James said. "Surely you don't mean the
nosferatu
?"

  "You know another vampire that talks?" Cora asked.

  "Well, I just wanted to be sure–"

  "Ain't nothing that's sure now," Cora said, her breath coming in gasps. "My husband may have been killed by that monster, and I need to find out for sure."

  "My God," James said. "Are you sure you heard right?"

  "I seen it with my own eyes," Cora said, the rifle shaking in her hands. "If it wasn't a trick, anyway. First, I saw old Boots, then he turned into that Wash Jones feller, then he" – she took a breath – "he turned into the spitting image of my Ben."

  James raised his hands. "Just calm down for a minute. You're not making any sense."

  "Then you ain't listening to me!"

  "I assure you, I am," James said. "Take a deep breath and tell me everything that happened."

  Cora wrung the barrel of her rifle. Her voice wavered as she recounted the details of that afternoon. The memory of seeing Ben's eyes filled with such murderous hatred nearly choked off her tale, but she took another breath and forced herself through it. When she finished, she looked down at her rifle so the brim of her hat would hide her tears.

  James stared into the fire, digesting her story. After a few moments, he turned back to her. "This is quite dire news. You're sure you've left nothing out?"

  "Not a thing," Cora said, bringing her head up.

  "My colleagues will want to hear this information at once," James said. "Your research has provided us with a critical piece of the
nosferatu
puzzle. With it, we will be able to better equip hunters and protect the innocent from this menace."

  "I don't much care about all that," Cora said, anger swelling in her chest. "All I care about is finding my husband. Did anything that bastard said sound like a clue?"

  "Of course," James said. "My apologies. Tell me what he said again." Cora did, and he stroked his chin with a thumb and forefinger. "From what you say, he sounded rather surprised that you believed your husband would rescue you from his clutches. That strikes me as more than a little odd."

  "Why's that?"

  "If the vampire had murdered your husband recently, he couldn't have expected you to know of Benjamin's death." The firelight danced in James's spectacles as he thought. "We must conclude that the creature believed you had prior knowledge of the event."

  "How could he?" Cora asked. "I'd seen Ben maybe fifteen minutes before my showdown with that spook." James's words gave her a thread of hope, and she clung to it with everything she had.

  "A curiosity, to be sure," James said, "but something else about your account bothers me as well. You say the vampire spoke as if the two of you had previously met, correct?"