The Dead of Winter - By Lee Collins Page 0,115

you manage that?"

Glava allowed himself a short laugh. "Her mortal mind was feebler than I knew. Somehow, she had come to believe her husband was still alive. When I summoned his familiar, she became hysterical, and I nearly consumed her." A brief contortion passed over his face as he remembered the burning of the holy water. "She managed to escape again, but her mind is weak, and I know where she has gone."

Wash grinned, and his fingers flexed in anticipation. "Where's that?"

"To the priest who fought with her ten years ago," Glava said. "While she is with him, we have little chance of success, but she will leave there soon and return here."

"How do you know that?"

"That is her way, to return," Glava said. "Just as she did ten years ago, so will she now. Her mind is weak, but her nature is unchanged. She is tenacious to a fault. This time, it will be her undoing."

"Good," Wash said. "How long till she gets back?"

"She will crawl into a bottle for a day or two until she loses herself to her rage. When she does, she will return to us, drunk and blinded by anger, and we will take her."

"What will we do till then?"

"We will attend to other business." Glava motioned with his arm. "Come. Once it is concluded, we will slake our lust with the blood of these fools."

The elder vampire walked out the door, and his apprentice followed. Glava's dark hair seemed to absorb the light of the hallway as they made their way toward the saloon. "I had the misfortune of being disturbed while obtaining my meal last night," Glava said. "Worse, the intruder was a member of the local law. Much as I prefer to remain subtle, this unfortunate event has alerted the lawgivers to our presence."

"That ain't no problem," Wash said as his boots began thumping down the stairs. "We should just go kill the lot and settle it right now."

"You have much to learn of subtlety," Glava said. "In this case, however, your solution is almost practical." Reaching the main room, the vampire paused for a moment and looked back at Wash Jones. "We will eliminate them, but we must keep up appearances lest we draw even more attention to ourselves."

"What's that mean?" Wash asked. Despite his recent meal, he still felt a strong desire to claim another victim, and the heat of human blood in the room fought for his attention.

"It means you will learn the first of the many abilities that I have given you." Before Glava could continue, a shout rang out from the bar. Both vampires looked over to see a young man staring at them, his face twisted with rage.

"You!" the man yelled, pointing his finger at Glava. "You're the one that killed my Annabelle."

"And who might you be?" Glava asked.

"Deputy Jack Evans, and I'm going to put you in your grave right now for what you done."

"You are a number of years too late for that, good sir," Glava replied, turning to leave. Wash stood where he was, eyes wide as Jack Evans pulled his revolver and took aim. Gamblers and miners dove for cover behind the tables.

The slug hit Glava between the shoulder blades and exploded from his chest, burying itself in the door. Turning, Glava looked down at the hole in his chest. "Unpleasant," he said, his golden eyes regarding the deputy. Silence and blue smoke filled the air between them. After a moment, he looked at his apprentice and motioned with a gloved hand. "Come, Mr Jones."

The vampire opened the door and stepped out into the night. Wash followed, keenly aware of the eyes watching them depart. Looking over his shoulder, he offered the room a big grin before leaving. Jack Evans still stood at the bar with his gun raised, dumbfounded.

"You see the unwelcome attention we are prone to attract," Glava said when Wash caught up. "Not only do the people in that bar now know we are something more than we appear, but I shall also need to have this suit tailored."

"Why not just buy a new one?" Wash asked. "If you ain't got no money, just kill a rich man and take his."

"A man's dress is an important component of his presence, be he human or vampire," Glava replied, "and I don't much care for your American fashions."

Behind them, the door to the Pioneer flew open, and Jack Evans stumbled into the street. After a moment of confusion, he caught sight

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