She Returns From War (28 page)

"That still doesn't explain-"

"How I'm standing here?" Cora grinned. "Don't add up, do it?" She paused, her eyelids fluttering for a moment. "Well, my Ben could see I was getting ready to die and came through to walk me over. Always was a gentleman like that. I ain't much of a lady, though, so I told him I wasn't going until I'd settled business on this side. He argued some but soon got it through his head that I was serious. Figuring it would speed things up, he gave me what strength he could, and here I am."

"So you've cheated death," Victoria said, a smile spreading across her lips.

"Not exactly," Cora said. She chuckled as Victoria's smile faltered. "Ain't like I just get to waltz on out of here and get back to living. No, this here squaw did her job all right. Ben just stepped in and put it off for a tick."

Victoria swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. "How long do you have?"

The hunter sighed. "Seeing as how we sorted the squaw out, I reckon I should get a move on. Things are getting all foggy, anyhow, and it won't do to keep the good Lord waiting."

With that, Cora sank to her knees and leaned back on her heels. Victoria reached out a hand to steady her. The hunter gripped it with her own, her eyes suddenly intense.

"I ain't going to live up to my end of the bargain," Cora said, her words beginning to slur. "Here you helped me out all this way, and I can't return the favor."

"Don't be silly-"

"Hush up, now. I ain't got but a few more breaths in me." As if to prove it, Cora turned her face away and coughed. The ruins echoed with the ragged sound. Drawing a deep breath, the hunter looked back at her young apprentice. "I can't go with you in body, but don't you think I won't be watching you. Take my gun on back with you and show them black things a thing or two about the fear of God. Do me proud."

"I will," Victoria said, the words threatening to unleash a flood of tears. She wouldn't start blubbing now, not in the last minutes of this battle-hardened warrior's life. Taking a breath to steady herself, she gave Cora's hand a squeeze. "I promise."

"That's a good girl," Cora said, easing herself down onto her back. "You'll be just fine out there. Give old King George my regards while you're at it."

"What about you?" Victoria asked. "What should I do when...?"

"Take me on back to Father Baez," Cora replied. "He can put me next to my Ben like we ought to be. Tell him what happened out here and what you're fixing to do over in England. He'll set you up with some right fine help, see if he don't."

The hunter's breathing grew shallower as the power warding off her death ebbed away. Her eyes were halfclosed. No longer looking at Victoria, they seemed to be gazing at something distant, something beautiful. A faint smile softened her face. Even though the smile wasn't directed at her, Victoria smiled back.

Cora's smile vanished, and her eyes opened wide. "Wash," she whispered.

Something slammed into Victoria's side, sending her flying. She smashed into a bush a number of yards away, the branches snapping like bones. Dazed, she picked her head up. Starlight and shadows spun in a nauseating vortex around her. She closed her eyes and willed the world to stop swirling.

"Looks like you whipped that squaw right proper," came the taunting voice of Washington Jones. "Reckon I owe you for that, but I ain't never been good at paying back favors. Hope becoming immortal seems a fair reward."

Victoria pulled her boots under her and rose to her feet. "I will not serve you, filth."

"Ain't talking to you, darlin," Wash said, blue eyes flashing in his burned face. "You is in for a world of pain for that nasty bit of work back there. See, I ain't no good at paying back favors, but I happen to be an expert when it comes to paying back an eye for an eye."

Moonlight flashed on the Colt's barrel as Victoria raised it. "Is that right?"

Wash laughed. "Go on, keep waving that gun of yours. Maybe one of them bullets will drop out and you can throw it at me."

Victoria's heart sank. Anaba must have told him about the curse she put on Cora's gun, or maybe he simply remembered how it had misfired when she tried to shoot him earlier. Either way, intimidating him into submission was not an option. She still had her crucifix, but there was no way she could reach him before he killed Cora. Nothing could save the huntress now, but she deserved to die in peace instead of being twisted into an undead slave of this monster.

The vampire suddenly reeled backward as if someone had punched him in the jaw. Confused, Victoria watched him stumble for a moment before shifting her gaze toward the hunter. Cora's arm was raised slightly, fist closed around something. Victoria couldn't make out what she was holding, but she didn't need to. Whatever it was, it was buying her the few precious seconds she needed. Her boots crashed through the dry branches, sending stones flying to either side as she sprinted forward. If she could just get to Cora's side and take her gun, she could make an end of Washington Jones.

Without warning, Washington's pet vampire leapt at her from the scrub, powerful arms wrapping around her like constrictors. They squeezed a cry from her lungs as the two of them crashed onto the ground. Jagged rocks punched into Victoria's ribs, sending spikes of pain through her body.

When the two of them came to rest, the vampire was on top of her. Victoria fought to breathe, to free her arms, to throw it off. The demon bared its teeth at her, and she snarled back. Her fingers pulled at her belt, searching for the crucifix but not finding it. Despair flooded her mind. It must have fallen out when the creature slammed into her.

Dead fingers wrapped around her golden braid and gave it a savage tug. Victoria cried out as the creature pulled at her scalp, forcing her chin up. White teeth clamped onto her neck. She punched at its head with her free hand, but she might as well have been beating on a rock. Its jaws were pure agony as they crushed her throat. Soon, she could feel the creature tearing the blood from her veins, slurping it down like a mongrel drinking from a dirty puddle. The pain was unlike anything she could have imagined, at once filling her body with fire and sending tendrils of frostbite through her soul. Her lungs heaved, trying to suck in a breath, but the vampire's jaws clamped her windpipe shut.

Victoria felt herself dying, her essence flowing down the throat of the monster on top of her. Her thoughts grew thin and light, wisps of lace floating through her mind. She felt a twinge of sorrow that their victory had been snatched from them when it had seemed so certain. They had bested the skin-walker only to fall to her servant. There was an irony there, she knew, but she couldn't quite remember what it was.

Air rushed into Victoria's lungs like a flash flood, propelling her back up into the realm of life. She felt as though she would continue to sail upward until she reached the stars. The icy knife that had been digging its way into her soul was gone. She took another breath. Trickles of blood tickled her neck, and she almost giggled.

The laughter died on her lips as the memory of where she was crashed back into her mind. Clapping a hand to her bleeding neck, she raised her head and looked around. A few yards away, the vampire crouched low to the ground, hissing through its bloody teeth. Victoria stared at it in confusion for a moment, wondering why it had suddenly released her. Cora's voice reached her then, thin and scraping like chalk on a blackboard.

"Get up."

Victoria forced her arms and legs into action. As they pulled her into a sitting position, she felt something slide down her shirt. Cora's rosary. Wrapping her fingers around the beads, she groaned. Her whole body ached.

"No time for that," Cora said in response to her moan. "Hump it or we're through."

Nodding in agreement, Victoria stood to her feet. Her legs wobbled beneath her, threatening to collapse. One look at the creature crouching nearby was enough to steady them. Keeping the rosary in plain sight, she made her way to Cora's side. Blue eyes glared at her from the shadows, but the vampire kept his distance.

Victoria half-knelt, half-fell next to the hunter. "Where is your gun?"

"He took it," Cora said, lifting a finger in the direction of Wash Jones.

"What?" The hunter's words sapped Victoria's strength, and she struggled to stay on her feet. "How am I supposed to kill him without it?"

"My gun," the hunter whispered, tapping the holster on Victoria's belt. "Shoot him."

"It doesn't work," Victoria said. "How can I-"

"Do it!" Cora's eyes opened wide, blazing in the moonlight. Victoria thought she saw a flash of white light from deep inside them, but she didn't stop to look twice. The force of the hunter's command propelled her to her feet, her hand reaching for the revolver of its own will.

Washington Jones watched her, his blue eyes alight with amusement. He held the other revolver in his hand, the barrel pointed at Victoria's chest. "Well, now, ain't this a pretty picture?"

"Indeed," Victoria said.

"See, now, I'm trying to decide what's most fitting to do," Wash said. "Here I is pointing a gun at a lady who's pointing a gun at me. Trouble is, your gun don't work, and it ain't proper to shoot an unarmed body. I reckon I could shoot you anyhow on account of you being such a pain, but then you wouldn't get all what's coming to you for doing what you done back there. Now-"

The thundering crash of a pistol shot cut him off. Victoria lowered her smoking revolver, cold blue eyes glittering. Across from her, Washington Jones stared in disbelief. Words started to form on his lips, but they dissolved into a moaning wail that could have arisen from the depths of hell itself. The vampire fell to his knees. Thin, piercing notes shredded the stillness of the night as smoke belched from his nose and mouth. One cry became a multitude, rising in a horrid cacophony that made Victoria wince, but she did not look away. On the ground beside her, Cora lay with her eyes closed, the ghost of a smile on her worn face.

When the desert night had swallowed up the last of the hellish chorus, Victoria allowed herself to breathe. Turning around, she swept her gaze through the brush, searching for the fallen master's minion, but the feral creature had vanished. She took a step toward the ruins when Cora's voice stopped her.

"Take my sword," the hunter said, her voice rattling deep in her chest.

Kneeling down next to Cora, Victoria put a hand on the hilt of the hunter's saber. Starlight glimmered on the blade as she drew it from its sheath.

"Cut off his head."

Victoria stood and turned toward her fallen foe before the hunter's words hit home. "What?" she asked.

Cora merely looked at her and nodded.

Taking a breath, Victoria marched toward the vampire's corpse. Nausea swept through her at the thought of decapitating a man, even this one, but she forced it down. If it was the only way to make sure the monster stayed dead, then she would do it.

Victoria looked down at Washington's face, and her fingers involuntarily tightened around the saber's hilt. The dead man's face was frozen in the rictus of his dying scream, but the fire was gone from his eyes. He looked like an ordinary man, one who might have passed many a hot afternoon in Cora's saloon. A strange sense of pity passed through her. Once, this man had been no different from any other, trying to make his own way in a world as dangerous as it was mad. He had chosen a path of darkness and demons, perhaps beguiled by the man he pretended to be, the one called Fodor Glava. So damned, he had become a monster in soul as well as in body, ultimately leading him to his death by her hand. A tragic end to a tragic tale.

The memory of his hands around her throat, his promises of rape and murder, returned to her, and her pity vanished beneath a landslide of loathing. Her skin crawled at the thought of his icy touch. Gripping the hilt of the saber with both hands, she raised it above her head.

"Bastard."

Moonlight flashed on the polished blade as she brought it down on the vampire's neck. It sliced through the undead flesh as if it were jelly. The head of Washington Jones rolled a few feet before coming to rest, long strands of dirty yellow hair splayed out like the legs of an insect. Victoria shuddered at the thought and turned away.

Retracing her steps, Victoria returned to the hunter's side. "It's done."

Cora did not answer.

Kneeling down next to her, Victoria softly called out her name. The lean, weathered face did not stir. No breath rose and fell beneath her shirt. A smile still lingered on her lips, and the sight brought one to Victoria's own. Despite the blood on her shirt, the carnage that surrounded her, Cora Oglesby was a vision of peace. Her hat lay to one side of her head, the brim painted by threads of her hair. The moonlight softened the hard lines of her face, taking the years away from her. In its bluish hue, Victoria could still see the face of the girl she had been, the face her husband must have seen when they first met. They were together again at last, after all their long years of separation. The thought made Victoria's smile widen, and she felt a tear slide down her cheek.

"Rest well, my friend," she whispered, touching the hunter's hand. "You've earned it."

Victoria lingered there a moment longer, a captive of the powerful serenity that had settled over the ruins. She took a deep breath, drawing the cool desert air into her lungs. It smelled of dust and blood. She wanted to carry this place inside her forever, just as it was, stained with the blood of heroes and monsters. To forget would be a dishonor to the woman who lay beside her.