The Dead of Winter - By Lee Collins Page 0,111

hand and dismounted. The front door of the vampire nest yawned open before her like the mouth to Hell itself. Whispering a desperate prayer, Cora plunged headlong into the darkness.

Pale shafts of light from the windows cut through the darkness. Cora's footsteps echoed through the house as she made her way to the basement entrance. Pausing at the door, she took a deep breath, staring down into the absolute blackness. In the shadows, she thought she saw Ben's dead eyes staring back at her. His pale face floated like a phantom in the darkness, his mouth still curled in a savage, animal snarl.

She shook her head to clear the image, her hand reaching for her revolver. Only when her fingers closed on air did she remember that she left it lying on the kitchen floor of the farmhouse. She pulled out her rosary instead, her knuckles white around the wooden beads. At the same time, her other hand pulled the silver dagger from its soft leather sheath. Another breath left her lungs as a prayer, and she began her descent.

The darkness closed in around her, forcing her to take one step at a time. Holding the rosary in front of her, she felt her way forward. Her fingers touched cold earth at the bottom of the stairs. She turned to her right and took a cautious step forward. Meeting no resistance, she took another. The air beneath the house was cold and stale, and the scent of death seemed to seep from the walls. Her eyes strained against the absolute blackness. Swaths of color flowed across her vision like gleeful phantoms.

In the stillness of the basement, the memories of the farmhouse wrapped around her mind with crushing black fingers: the hideous hissing of Ben's breath through his teeth, the inhuman hunger in his eyes, the gray shade of his face. That wasn't really him, she told herself. Her mind had been playing tricks on her. Ben wouldn't have threatened her like that, even if he had been turned. His gentle soul would have prevailed over the vampiric curse. No, Ben had to be down here somewhere, hiding with the other survivor.

Her foot struck a metal object, sending it skittering across the floor. She followed the sound, patting the ground with each step until she felt something beneath her boot. She knelt down and reached forward, the rosary dangling from her wrist. Her fingers closed around a cold piece of metal. A sword hilt. Sheathing her dagger, she picked it up in both hands, feeling the length of the blade with her fingers. It was Ben's saber.

"So that's where I dropped that."

A small scream escaped her lips as she whirled around in the darkness, holding the saber out in front of her. Without thinking, she began backing toward where she remembered the stairs to be.

"Where are you going?" the voice asked, and she paused. When it spoke this time, she heard it more clearly.

"Ben?" she asked. "Ben, is that you?"

"Sure is," the voice replied. "Can't you tell?"

"Where are you? I can't see you." Cora felt a shock of excitement run through her like a gunshot. "Why are you still here?"

"I was waiting for you, darlin'."

Cora allowed herself a short laugh. "Well, no point in waiting, then. Let's find us some matches and kerosene and send this place to hell along with any of them bloodsuckers that might still be around."

Without waiting for his answer, she turned and began walking toward the faint hint of moonlight shining in the darkness. Her spurs jingled in the still air of this house of death, singing out her relief. She hadn't shot her husband. Just as she'd thought, he had been in hiding, waiting for her to kill the rest of the vampires and come rescue him.

At the bottom of the stairs, she turned and looked behind her. "You coming?"

Ben made no reply. She strained her eyes in the dim light, hoping to see his face emerge from the shadows. It never came.

"Hey!" she called. "You still there?"

Something rustled in the darkness. Leaning forward, she searched for his face, a faint smile coming to her lips. A heartbeat later, a dark shape flew out of the shadows. It struck her in the temple, knocking her into the dirt wall. Stunned, she made a feeble attempt to pull herself up, but before she could get her boots under her, another blow rained down on her skull. Darkness flooded her mind, and she remembered nothing more.

Cora lifted

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