said. "I cannot begin to tell you the joy that this moment brings me. It will be like reliving ten years past and our first fateful encounter. To break the same hunter twice in one lifetime is a rare thrill even among the immortal." He looked down at her, his face ecstatic. "Cora Oglesby, Mad Madam, scourge of the unholy West, I believe I have some bad news for you."
As he spoke, the face in front of hers changed. The sandy blond beard faded into a well-trimmed brown mustache, and the deep blue eyes of the young gunman gave way to a lighter shade of blue she knew as well as her own brown eyes. The mouth below the mustache twisted into a sadistic grin she had never seen on those lips. All of her fight and spirit evaporated in a single flash of recognition.
"Your husband," said the voice of Benjamin Oglesby, "has already found you."
FIFTEEN
Cora's knees gave way. Had it not been for the hand clamped around her neck, the hand of her own husband, she would have collapsed to the floor. Her heart screamed that she was seeing an illusion, some sinister trick played by the vampire, but as the seconds passed, the man standing before her never wavered or disappeared.
"What's wrong?" Ben's voice asked. "You haven't seen me in ten years, and you don't have anything to say? Not even some pithy sentiment about how you've missed me so?"
"No," Cora said.
"How about an apology, then?" The face of her husband leaned in until their noses almost touched. "Can you at least apologize for just letting me die like you did?"
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Who am I?" Ben's other hand grabbed her gun belt. He spun her around and hurled her across the room. "I'm your husband."
Cora slammed into a large crate with a bone-jarring thud. She fell to the floor and hugged her knees to her chest as the monster wearing Ben's face came to stand over her. She shook her head, her eyes squeezed shut. It wasn't possible. Ben hadn't been killed by this creature. He was with Mart Duggan right now, making preparations for the coming wave of vampires. She would meet up with him later to defend the town.
"Maybe I was wrong about you," Ben's voice said as the creature knelt next to her. "Maybe you are only suited for life as a slave. I still have time to decide. Perhaps the taste of your soul will tell me what I need to know. Either way, I've grown tired of this conversation." He reached out and grabbed her jaw, pulling her face toward him. "Look at me."
Cora opened her eyes. Ben's face loomed above her, his kind features twisted with hatred.
"I want the last thought of your mortal life to be of your failure," he said. "I want you to look upon the enslaved soul of your husband and carry that sight with you into eternity. Not the eternity of bliss your foolish god promised you, but an eternity as the very thing you most despise."
The hand gripping her jaw let go and cracked across her face. The blow knocked her back into the crate. Her head swam from the impact, and she felt as though she might vomit. She fought the sensation as she lay on the floor, her mind repeating the same thoughts. Ben couldn't be dead. She had just seen him in their room. He was with the marshal. He would come through the door any second. They would kill this vampire just as they had killed so many other monsters.
Standing above her, the image of her husband faded into the gray shadows of the room. A few seconds later, a slow creaking came from somewhere in the darkness. Glowing golden eyes fixed themselves on the fallen hunter.
Fodor Glava stood over his fallen enemy, relishing her suffering and confusion. He always marveled at how easily mortals could be rendered helpless with mere words. It was such a handy tool if used right, but to use it on the Mad Madam herself, one of the most feared hunters in the West, was a special thrill. He could never have predicted her delusions, of course, but he was still pleased with himself for driving the knife through her heart. Her tears would sweeten the taste of her blood, and bringing her into the fold of the undead would make him a legend among nosferatu.