Sam Harlan (Book 3): Damned Cold (29 page)

The angels of light slowly faded from view once God’s judgment had been passed until the clearing was once again illuminated by the roaring fire that made the snowflakes twinkle.

Jameson groaned in pain and fell to the muddy earth. Callie rushed to his side, but I had other concerns.

Meriwether stood alone, the remaining members of his coven either hurt or frozen with fear. His right arm dangled uselessly at his side. He stared at Nicky, who sat against the tree where I’d left him, still covering his eyes with his hands and mumbling to himself.

I made it to my feet, slipping and sliding in the fresh snow, and approached Meriwether. He looked up and shook his head. “I didn’t
mean
for this to happen,” he said softly.

I yanked my Kimber from his waist. “I’m sure you didn’t.”

“I just—just wanted to help my son.”

I sighed. “I’m sure you did.”

His eyes widened. “It wasn’t my fault. The demon
made
me do it.”

“I’m not a priest,” I said. “I don’t care about your conscience. Or your soul. God will judge you accordingly.” I raised the Kimber and pointed it at his head.

“Father, tell him I’m not possessed,” Meriwether said over the crackling of the fire. “Tell him. You saw.
Tell him
.”

Those who still lived, including Father Jameson, watched in silence.

“But I’m free,” Meriwether pleaded, his eyes fixed on mine. “I’m
free
.”

“You are,” I acknowledged, then pulled the trigger and blew the back of Meriwether’s head off in a spray of blood, bone, and brain.

* * *

I caught up to Barlow in a ravine not far from the clearing. The little man sat on a tree stump, as still as a statue, a light dusting of snow swirling around him.

He glanced up as I approached. Moonlight sparkled off the snowflakes that clung to the blood stains on his clothes.

Bloody tears ran from the corners of his eyes. “Hello, Samuel.”

I stopped short and nodded. “Milford.”

The portly little man shook his head. “It was … crazy back there.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “You know that.”

The tragic part was that I believed him. “I know.”

Barlow sighed. “The blood. It made me crazy. I haven’t killed like that in years. After all that time, to have it…”

“I understand now.” I stood quietly, watching him, then asked the only question that came to mind. “How did this happen?”

“Eva was dying,” Barlow said. His voice caught in his throat. “I brought her to Bement to be with family.”

“Jodie?” I asked. “Randy?”

“Nieces and nephews. She wanted to die among them. And…”

“What?”

“It wasn’t safe anymore,” Barlow said. He wiped at the blood staining his arms. It smeared with snow and turned into scarlet slush against his ice-cold skin. “Do you remember Gloria?”

Gloria Freeman had been a nurse in the fifties before she was turned against her will. I had ventured into her underground lair in the catacombs of Indianapolis, begging her for help in finding Silas. “Yes.”

“She’d hidden for years, feeding on the homeless, but after Silas died she seized control of the Indianapolis packs.”

“What?”

“Your visit … ignited something in her. She’d controlled her hunger for years, but after she met you, she became…”

“What?” I whispered.

“Wanton,” Barlow said, watching me sadly. “She fed indiscriminately. She killed all rivals and named herself Queen. I tried to speak with her, but she demanded I kneel before her.”

“You couldn’t do it.”

“I
wouldn’t
do it. I vowed after escaping Silas’s grasp that I would never bow to another. She promised I would be tortured if I didn’t submit. I gathered Eva and fled that very night.”

“Where is Eva now?” I asked.

“She passed in her sleep. Peacefully. We burned her body on the Kormans’ farm. I spent the night in Monticello. Meriwether came for me there and caged me before I could escape. He forced me to feed. That was a week ago.”

“You killed.” It wasn’t a question.

He nodded. “First a young man. Meriwether kidnapped him and brought him to me. I don’t know how, but Meriwether called the hunger in me. I resisted, but in the end, it was futile. I fed for the first time in years.”

I was horrified. “There were more?”

Barlow nodded. “
Many
more. As I fed on them, he … studied me. It was perverse. When he commanded, I obeyed. I didn’t understand it then, but now it makes sense.”

“He was possessed by a demon,” I said.

“A demon,” Barlow agreed. “Eighty years after my death and I’m still surprised by the utter stupidity of humanity. I felt it, you know. The demon. It rubbed against me. Even after all I’ve done, it still felt …
unclean
. Perhaps there’s hope for me, Sam. Perhaps I still have some semblance of a soul.”

The silence stretched between us and I finally shrugged. “Who knows?”

“I felt the light, Sam. I felt what you did … did you banish it?”

“The Father did.”

“I heard a gunshot. You killed Meriwether?”

I shrugged. “He made a pact with a demon.”

“Wasn’t his soul clean once the demon was banished?”

I shook my head. “Maybe, but unlike the demon, I have free will and I’m not in the forgiveness business.”

Barlow sighed. “So that’s it, then?”

I thought about it for a moment. “I guess it is.”

“I don’t mind. I’ve outlived everything I loved. There’s nothing in this world for me. I just pray I’ll see Eva in the next.”

I raised the Kimber, pointing it at Barlow’s chest. “I pray you will, Barlow. If anyone deserves it, you do.”

The little man blinked. “Thank you, Samuel. You’ve been kind. I wish you the best.”

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s alright. I’m ready.”

I hesitated. “I—I don’t know if I can do this.”

Barlow laughed quietly, a whispered snicker among the trees. “Yes, you can. It might not have been who you were when we first met, but it’s who you are now. Jack would be proud.”

The gun began to shake and I blinked back tears. “I…”

“Do it,” Barlow urged, so softly I could barely hear. “Please.”

The Kimber barked and a hole appeared in Barlow’s chest, right through his heart. He pitched forward, a peaceful expression on his face, and hit the ground. Nothing happened for a moment, then fire erupted from the back of his chest. The falling snow hissed and sizzled as the flames spread. The light beat against the darkness, illuminating the snow-covered trees.

A surge of black smoke snaked from the burning body and plunged inside me as Barlow’s vampire essence joined the rest, burning all the way down to the bottom. A keening echoed against the trees and I realized it was coming from me.

Then it was done and I watched as the fire roared and consumed Barlow’s body. In less than a minute, all that was left was a greasy pile of ash and smoldering leaves which I quickly stomped out.

A voice said from behind, “Sam?”

I turned and found Callie, bloody and bruised, leaning against a tree. She looked woozy. She trembled, barely able to stand. “How much did you see?” I asked.

“All of it.”

“I had to do it.”

“I know.”

I approached her and held out my arm, which she gratefully accepted. Together we made our way back to the clearing, where the living and dead waited for us. “You still think I’m a good man?”

She stumbled against the root of a tree that blocked our path, then said, “He knows the choices you’ve made and why you’ve made them. I’m sure He will forgive you.”

I helped her over the root and up the almost-invisible footpath. “He damned well better. I don’t see anyone else rushing to do His dirty work.”

* * *

The rest of the night was a blur as we loaded the living and the dead into the vehicles and left the park. Jodie was finally awake and moving around, barking out orders, having assumed control of Meriwether’s coven.

I helped Callie and Jameson to my truck and followed the Durangos out of the park and through the country roads to the Kormans’ farm.

I turned to Callie along the way and asked, “Are you guys okay?”

“You’ve already asked,” Callie mumbled. “Twice.”

I had?

I was exhausted and kept blinking, trying to focus my blurry vision. As an added bonus, my hunger came roaring back. I wanted a rare steak, and every time I thought of it, my stomach growled. Somewhere deep inside me, the vampire essence licked its lips and nodded in approval.

Jameson was leaning against the passenger-side door. He opened one eye and said, “I think I have third-degree burns.”

“Sorry, Father. I’ll get you some painkillers when we stop.”

Jameson was quiet for a moment, then said, “You can call me Patrick. You’ve earned that right.” He closed his eye and settled back into his seat.

I leaned closer to Callie. “Are you going to be okay?”

She stared at the taillights of the SUV in front of us. “The cuts aren’t deep.”

“They carved symbols over your body,” I said. As I spoke, the image of her hanging from the beam in Meriwether’s basement came to mind. I remembered how her nipples had stiffened in the cold and how her panties had barely covered her down there.

I pushed those memories deep inside, down where the vampire essence lurked, before my imagination could elaborate on them, and vowed to keep them from
ever
rising again.

Callie turned her head to look at me and said, “My body will heal.”

In the darkened cab of the truck, I almost missed the tears in her eyes. “It’s not your body I’m worried about.”

“How’s your shoulder?” she asked.

She had helped me yank the bone spear from my shoulder and had tossed it into the fire before we left the clearing. The wound had clotted, but it throbbed in time with my heartbeat, and I winced with every bump in the road. “My body will heal,” I said.

We pulled into the Kormans’ drive sometime around three in the morning. Everyone got out of their vehicles and stood looking at each other. Jaime Alcorn was glaring at Lisa Doll, who had somehow survived unscathed. Jodie put her hand on Alcorn’s shoulder. Jaime shrugged it off, but he turned to Jodie and said, “You better do something about this. I don’t trust them.”

Jodie nodded. “Listen, people,” she said, her voice ringing out. “What’s done is done. The Goddess knows we’ve all made mistakes, but it ends tonight.”

Lisa Doll was leaning against a young woman and she spoke up, “Who died and made you the coven leader?”

The young woman next to her, a pretty brunette with dirt rubbed into her face and leaves stuck in her hair, reeled back, almost spilling Lisa to the gravel driveway. “Don’t—”

“Shut up, Kendra,” Lisa said. “This doesn’t concern—”

“Carlton died,” Jodie said so softly that everyone leaned forward to hear. “And my husband died. And your husband, too, Lisa.”

Lisa rocked back as if struck. “I didn’t…” She searched the faces of those around her, but no one would meet her gaze. She began to cry, and squeaked out, “I’m sorry.” She no longer looked like a self-assured sex kitten, but like a somewhat well-kept housewife who had just realized her husband was dead.

“We’re all sorry,” the girl, Kendra, said. “If it makes a difference—”

“It doesn’t,” Jodie said, her voice dripping with derision. “But, for the sake of the community, we’re going to work through this and pull ourselves together.” She reached out and pulled Molly Gary and Dawn close to her, hugging them tightly. “We’re going to come together, and we won’t
ever
let something like this happen again. Swear on it. Swear that you will help me make this coven whole again. Swear on your talents!”

A murmuring rose for the group as the witches joined in, vowing to help Jodie rebuild.

I glanced over to Callie and Jameson. Both appeared as skeptical as I felt, but I pulled Jodie aside and explained what I needed from her, and she got busy ordering her people to work.

The farm was a beehive of activity when the sun rose. The runes in the concrete outbuilding had been chiseled off by weary members of Meriwether’s coven and the bodies arranged in the kitchen and living room.

Jodie was waiting for me outside. “You really think this will work?” she asked.

“You really think Meriwether’s coven shouldn’t be punished?” I countered.

“Honestly?” She paused, and for a moment the mask dropped. She wasn’t a hard woman leading her coven anymore. She was just a tired, middle-aged secretary consumed by grief. Then her face hardened and she growled, “I want to kill every last one of them.”

I nodded. There was a moment as I poured gasoline around the Kormans’ house when I looked at all the dead and felt an insane desire to murder the remaining members of Meriwether’s coven. “It’s your choice. If you can keep them in check—”

“They’ll do as they’re told,” she said. “After tonight, I think they finally understand the consequences.”

“What about Dawn?”

“She’s a mess, but she’ll survive. I’m bringing her into the coven.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“She has a talent,” Jodie said. “Now that she knows about magic, she could head down a dark path, especially as she deals with … with Dorothy’s death.”

“And Nicky?”

She pointed to the SUV, where Nicky was sleeping, peacefully unaware of anything around him. “He’s family, Mr. Harlan.” She raised her hand before I could speak. “He didn’t understand what he was doing when he killed Dorothy, but that kind of magic twists someone. I saw the way he looked at Dawn.”

“Yeah,” I conceded. “You better watch him. He’s … not going to be so easy to control. He’s smarter now.”

“He also has a talent,” Jodie said. “We need to control it.”

“Control it?”

She lowered her voice. “Remember what Randy said? The sight is fickle. Sometimes it shows you the truth and sometimes it shows you one of many
possible
truths. Nicky isn’t evil, and I’m going to make sure he stays that way.”

I wanted to argue with her about free will, but I just shrugged, stroked a match against the matchbox in my hand, and tossed it into the kitchen. The gasoline caught immediately. “There might be people who question this fire, but in my experience, they’ll let it go. Too much of it won’t make any sense.”