jerked to one side in mid-air as if kicked, and fell in a heap beside him. Duggan stared in disbelief at the smoking hole in her side as she struggled to her feet. The crack of a rifle echoed from somewhere behind the elder vampire, followed by a loud curse. Looking up, he saw the golden eyes vanish in a whirl of dark hair. The nosferatu dodged to the left as another shot rang out. The bullet punched a hole in the snarling woman's skull. Pale limbs flailed in the snow, and her final howl ended in a choking gurgle. Looking up the street, Duggan could make out a small figure in a wide-brimmed hat.
Cora Oglesby trained her Winchester on the glowing golden eyes, her rosary dangling from her left hand. Behind her, Our Lady stood in the street, her breath streaming into the night air.
"Well, now, if it ain't my old friend Mr Fodor Glava," she said, chambering a round. "Nice to see you showing your real face to the world for a change."
Glava's eyes burned with hatred. "Welcome back, widow. I hope you are prepared to join your husband in hell."
"That ain't no kind of greeting, now," Cora said. Her boots crunched through the snow toward the vampire. "And here I was hoping for an apology."
Before Glava could answer, Cora's hand dropped to her belt. She pulled out her revolver and tossed it over to Mart Duggan. "Here, marshal. You lick them spooks behind you while me and Mr Glava here have ourselves a nice chat."
Keeping a wary eye on the vampire, Duggan picked up the revolver. He whispered an order to his frightened deputy and the two men traded places. Sanchez's frightened brown eyes locked on Fodor Glava while the marshal raised pistol and crucifix at the nearest vrykolakas. The Colt's roar echoed off of the surrounding buildings, and the monster collapsed. The rest of the vrykolakas began backing away from the marshal.
Glava could feel the terror rising in his minions. He longed to charge at this hateful woman and snap her neck, but the rosary in her hand held him at bay. In his mind, he screamed for Wash Jones to come to his aid. The apprentice heard the master's call, rising from the bed of a fresh kill, and a grin returned to the master's face. Even with their holy symbols and holy weapons, Cora Oglesby and her little marshal could not hope to withstand both nosferatu at once.
The grin vanished from Glava's face a moment later as pain and confusion exploded through the minds of his vrykolakas. Through their eyes, he could see a line of men on horseback galloping up the street. Their leader held a large cross in his raised hand. The lesser vampires panicked, turning back the way they had come only to cower before Mart Duggan's upraised crucifix. Their combined terror and pain flooded Glava's mind, threatening to overwhelm his hold on them. Forgetting himself, his golden eyes slid closed as he attempted to tighten his grip on them.
A moment later, he heard the crack of Cora's rifle. He dodged to the left, but the chaos in his mind slowed his reflexes. The silver bullet caught him just below the shoulder, tearing another hole in the breast of his suit. Searing pain flooded his body, and his mind shook loose of the vrykolakas. He could hear the Colt's booming voice as the marshal cut down his army, but he no longer felt their pain. Blinded by his own suffering, he stumbled and nearly fell. The hunter's rifle cracked again, and pain sliced through his leg.
Fodor Glava fell to his knees, unable to understand the waves of pain flowing through his immortal body. Behind him, the revolver's echoes vanished beneath the thundering of horses. The ground beneath him shook, and he forced his eyes open. No fewer than half a dozen mounted men surrounded him, all with crosses raised. The holy symbols wracked his body with fire, sapping what strength remained in him.
The horses began shuffling as the group parted, clearing the way for someone to come through. The golden eyes closed for a moment as Glava reached out one last, desperate time for his apprentice. He could feel Wash Jones nearby; he could see the group of men on horseback through his eyes. He could also sense the man's fear. Glava burned Wash's mind, commanding him to take the group in the back, to create a distraction, to do anything