the crosses out of the cart and tossed them into the shadows. Holding the lantern in front of him, he started looking for the row of boulders Boots had mentioned. Unseen eyes, glistening with hunger, watched him from shadowy perches as he wandered. A will stronger than their own held them in check, whispering promises of feasts to come.
TWELVE
Cora tossed the reins over the hitching rail outside the marshal's station. Our Lady's breathing came in noisy gasps, her nose blowing clouds of steam into the cold mountain air. Cora gave her a pat on the neck and burst through the station door. Deputy Sanchez dropped the deck of cards he'd been holding, scattering them on the floor. He slid off his chair and began collecting them without bothering to see who had come through the door. Cora could hear a stream of Spanish curses coming from beneath the desk. Despite her hurry, she cracked a smile.
The deputy's head finally popped up behind the desk. "Si, señora? What can I do?"
"I'm looking for your boss."
"Señor Duggan is at the hog ranch."
"Which one?" Cora asked.
"The one with the puta Evans loves."
"The Purdy it is, then," Cora said. She clapped Sanchez on the head. "Gracias."
The deputy's head disappeared behind the desk. Outside, Our Lady was still recovering from the hard ride. She tossed her head in protest as Cora climbed into the saddle, but the hunter rode her easy over to the brothel.
Once inside the Purdy, Cora had no trouble finding the marshal. He was standing over the crumpled form of a man, revolver in hand. He glanced up at her as she approached. "Afternoon, Mrs Oglesby."
Cora tipped her hat. "Trouble?"
"Not much," Duggan said, looking back at his fallen foe. It was a young miner, his beard still thin and scraggly. "This sprout was making rough with one of the ladies here."
"Jack Evans's girl?"
"Jack's girl?" The marshal looked surprised. "Evans is sweet on a whore?"
"So I figure," Cora said. "He was out in front the other night when I whipped the wendigo. Said he was watching out for the whores here."
"Well, ain't that something," Duggan said, holstering his pistol. "I reckon I'll have words with him about that."
"Don't waste your breath," Cora said. "Poor bastard is so sick with love he was freezing his pecker off for that girl. Ain't no words have been said that could break him of that."
The man at Duggan's feet groaned and rolled onto his back. The marshal rewarded him with a kick to the ribs. "I reckon not. I got better things to do, anyhow, like locking this lump away."
"I got something for you after that," Cora said.
"How's that?"
"You got a citizen in your own town that ain't human no more."
Duggan looked at her, silent for a moment. "What's that mean?" he finally asked.
"You remember Boots, the barkeep from the Pioneer?" she asked. The marshal nodded. "Well, I just shot him up in the Harcourt mine."
Duggan cracked a smile. "You been at your bottle, ain't you?" he asked. "I seen Boots just this morning when me and Sanchez settled some rowdies."
"That ain't Boots," Cora said. "Can't tell you who or what it is now, but it ain't him."
The marshal gave the man at his feet another kick before stepping over him. He drew Cora aside and spoke in a low voice. "I ain't looking to play games, Mrs Oglesby. Now, I paid you your due for licking that monster the other night, but don't think I won't put you away for a spell if you start causing trouble for me."
"I ain't causing no trouble, marshal," Cora said. "I'm just doing my duty and warning you of it. You know Lord Harcourt, right?"
"Ain't a man in Leadville who don't," Duggan said.
"Right. Well, turns out him and his man Townsend got themselves a problem with vampires up in that mine of theirs. Me and Townsend was up there this morning poking around when we got jumped by one of them. We settled it up proper, but when I got a good look at his face, I realized I'd just put my sword through that bartender's heart."
"You killed Boots?" Duggan asked. His blue eyes blazed as he reached for his gun.
Cora raised her hands. "Calm yourself down," she said. "Ain't like that."
"You better tell me what it's like, then."
"I will if you give me half a space," she said, stepping backward. The marshal let her move, but his hand never left the butt of his gun. "Now, what do you