never saved nobody by shooting them in the face, Father." She reached the door and turned to look at him with empty, bloodshot eyes. "You should have left me there to die with him."
Before the priest could reply, Cora pulled open the door and stepped into the cold afternoon sunlight. Father Baez watched her disappear into the traffic on the street, sorrow filling his heart.
"Blessed Mary, bring thy comfort to Cora," he said. "Blessed Son, be Thou her strength and her light. Guide her back to Your way." He pulled the door closed.
EIGHTEEN
Wash Jones stood in front of the Pioneer saloon, his blue eyes glowing in the evening light. He watched the miners, the businessmen, and the whores shuffle through the saloon's door, feeling the warmth of their blood in his teeth. Each one glowed with a new vitality that his mortal eyes had never seen. Better yet, that vitality existed for the one reason of satisfying his hunger.
Even as he stood exposed to the winter night of a mountain town, Wash felt no cold. The freezing air felt as comfortable as a firelit room had in his previous life. Ever since Fodor Glava had awakened him to his eternal life, his true life, Wash had never stopped marveling at the new power and perceptions coursing through his body. His eyes pierced the deepest shadows, and his arms could easily heft a horse and throw it across the street. He truly possessed the power of a god, and he loved every second of it.
Wash felt a presence lingering near him. Turning his head, he saw a young whore leaning against a hitching rail, watching him. Her face was plain and her figure bony, but Wash no longer lusted after such things. The blood in her veins flowed hot and sweet.
"You look awful lonely out here," she said.
"Care to relieve me of that?" he asked with a grin, his fingers twitching.
She smiled and took his arm, and he led her into the saloon. Patrons filled the room, laughing, drinking, and arguing over cards. Somewhere in the room, the piano tinkled away at a melody, its notes lost beneath the din. Wash stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the sounds of life, and his grin widened. Glava had promised him that they would soon rule this town as kings, dictating who would live and who would die to feed their hunger. Mere humans, so weak and ignorant, served no other purpose to him now.
His whore tugged at his arm, urging him toward the stairs. The heat from her body drove him mad with desire. Watching her slim figure ahead of him, he trembled with anticipation at the thought of his first kill. Glava had taken him to feed the night before, but this would be his first time alone with his victim. The elder vampire had also told him of how the bodies of his victims would rise again to serve him, an unquestioning army to eliminate his enemies and bring him fresh meals. Skinny though she was, the whore would make a fine slave, the first of many.
She led him into an empty bedroom, and he closed the door behind them. The bed was unmade and the sheets dirty, but he didn't mind. They wouldn't be in use for long.
The whore turned to him. "So, you got your money?"
"Let me see what I'm buying first," Wash said.
"Fair enough," she said, her pale arms reaching down and pulling her dress up over her head. Her cotton undergarments were stained from many months of use. They fell to her mid-thigh, leaving her knees and lower legs exposed. Holding her hands out, she gave a quick turn, allowing him to get a good look at her. "Well?"
Wash didn't reply as his hands fished around in his pocket, jingling the coins inside. His eyes burned with desire. She noticed, and a grin spread across her face. Slipping her shift off of one shoulder, she approached him, swinging her slim hips.
With a cry of desire, he rushed at her, pushing her backward onto the bed. His hand clamped down on her mouth to stifle her scream. He savored the feeling of her warm body squirming beneath him for a moment. She was fighting with all of her strength, but it took little effort to keep her pinned. He grinned at her, baring his fangs, and watched terror fill her eyes. Her screams emerged as pitiful squeaks from beneath his hand, and he laughed.