"I have reason to believe that a nest of vrykolakas may have taken up residence there."
"Vampires?" Cora asked. "Ain't they your specialty?"
"Precisely so," James said, looking indignant. "However, this infestation is rather extensive, and Lord Harcourt believes it would be prudent to seek outside assistance."
Cora burst out laughing.
"I hardly find this amusing," James said. "My lord's mining investment is in grave danger. We've already lost at least a dozen workers to these monsters, and the rest of his miners are refusing to return to work for fear of being killed or turned. Unless we take action, and quickly, the vampires will overrun the entire mining complex."
"Quite a fix," Cora said, "but I don't see how it's any of our concern. We ain't in the business of saving silver mines."
"Well, there is the matter of Lord Harcourt's generous offer. In addition, it is highly likely the vampires will continue multiplying until the entire town is overrun and destroyed."
Cora sighed. "What's the offer?"
"Lord Harcourt insisted on negotiating with you personally," James said. "He's waiting at his manor north of town."
"I thought you said he was still in England. Don't want to get his coat dusty or some such, right?"
James looked down for a moment. "Yes, well," he said, "he doesn't wish for the knowledge of this misfortune to become public. I'm not at liberty to discuss his doings with strangers."
"You just told me about the vampires."
"Lord Harcourt heard of your exploits with the monstrosity last night. He's quite intrigued by your ability to contain and eliminate supernatural threats."
Cora could feel Ben staring at her back from the train car and sense his impatience. They'd already bought their tickets, their horses were already on board, everything was set to go. Ben hated the cold as much as she did, and they had enough money to spend a few months in San Antonio drinking and gambling before they took on another job.
But the uptight Englishman standing in front of her had an even bigger deal for them. Smoking out a nest of vampires was easy work, and this Lord Harcourt would probably reward them handsomely. Maybe enough to start Ben's print shop when they finally grew too old to smoke out vampires. What was a few more weeks of cold compared to a large sum and a future like that?
"Ben," she called, turning to look at her distraught husband, "get over here."
Ben walked up to her. "What is it?"
"Well," Cora said, nodding at Townsend, "this man here has another job for us."
TEN
The butler graced them with a low bow. Cora grabbed a handful of her buffalo-hide coat in either hand and responded with a curtsy. She straightened out of it before he came back up, her hands clasped demurely in front of her.
"Please, come in," he said, standing to one side and waving his hand.
James Townsend led the way into the front hall of Lord Harcourt's private retreat. Cora followed him, and Ben brought up the rear. The butler closed the door behind them, shutting out the cold mountain air, then turned to them with a polite smile.
Cora didn't see it. Her gaze was sweeping around the hall, taking in the overwhelming if not unexpected opulence. The ceiling sloped upward above them in graceful arches of richly stained wood. To the right of the front landing, a carpeted staircase ascended along one wall, bordered by a carved railing. Paintings of garden parties and old men in fine suits dotted the walls. Above their heads, candles winked down at them from behind clusters of star-cut glass.
"If you'll follow me, please," the butler said, passing through the group to take the lead. His shoes made no sound on the thick carpet. As they walked, Cora became acutely aware of her buckskin pants and worn flannel shirt. Most of their jobs came from men as rustic as they were, so she never felt the need to dandy herself up. She didn't even own a dress anymore. However, judging from the look of this place, Lord Harcourt wouldn't be overly impressed with her riding boots and hand-stitched gloves.
The butler opened a set of brass-knobbed doors and ushered them into a large sitting room. A small fire popped in a marble fireplace as they entered. In the flickering shadows, Cora could see rows upon rows of books lining the room, gold titles glimmering. Windows bordered by heavy red curtains peered out into the winter night. Two high-backed chairs faced the fire, casting long shadows across the carpet. Flanked by