Trouble is, your gun don't work, and it ain't proper to shoot an unarmed body. I reckon I could shoot you anyhow on account of you being such a pain, but then you wouldn't get all what's coming to you for doing what you done back there. Now-"
The thundering crash of a pistol shot cut him off. Victoria lowered her smoking revolver, cold blue eyes glittering. Across from her, Washington Jones stared in disbelief. Words started to form on his lips, but they dissolved into a moaning wail that could have arisen from the depths of hell itself. The vampire fell to his knees. Thin, piercing notes shredded the stillness of the night as smoke belched from his nose and mouth. One cry became a multitude, rising in a horrid cacophony that made Victoria wince, but she did not look away. On the ground beside her, Cora lay with her eyes closed, the ghost of a smile on her worn face.
When the desert night had swallowed up the last of the hellish chorus, Victoria allowed herself to breathe. Turning around, she swept her gaze through the brush, searching for the fallen master's minion, but the feral creature had vanished. She took a step toward the ruins when Cora's voice stopped her.
"Take my sword," the hunter said, her voice rattling deep in her chest.
Kneeling down next to Cora, Victoria put a hand on the hilt of the hunter's saber. Starlight glimmered on the blade as she drew it from its sheath.
"Cut off his head."
Victoria stood and turned toward her fallen foe before the hunter's words hit home. "What?" she asked.
Cora merely looked at her and nodded.
Taking a breath, Victoria marched toward the vampire's corpse. Nausea swept through her at the thought of decapitating a man, even this one, but she forced it down. If it was the only way to make sure the monster stayed dead, then she would do it.
Victoria looked down at Washington's face, and her fingers involuntarily tightened around the saber's hilt. The dead man's face was frozen in the rictus of his dying scream, but the fire was gone from his eyes. He looked like an ordinary man, one who might have passed many a hot afternoon in Cora's saloon. A strange sense of pity passed through her. Once, this man had been no different from any other, trying to make his own way in a world as dangerous as it was mad. He had chosen a path of darkness and demons, perhaps beguiled by the man he pretended to be, the one called Fodor Glava. So damned, he had become a monster in soul as well as in body, ultimately leading him to his death by her hand. A tragic end to a tragic tale.
The memory of his hands around her throat, his promises of rape and murder, returned to her, and her pity vanished beneath a landslide of loathing. Her skin crawled at the thought of his icy touch. Gripping the hilt of the saber with both hands, she raised it above her head.
"Bastard."
Moonlight flashed on the polished blade as she brought it down on the vampire's neck. It sliced through the undead flesh as if it were jelly. The head of Washington Jones rolled a few feet before coming to rest, long strands of dirty yellow hair splayed out like the legs of an insect. Victoria shuddered at the thought and turned away.
Retracing her steps, Victoria returned to the hunter's side. "It's done."
Cora did not answer.
Kneeling down next to her, Victoria softly called out her name. The lean, weathered face did not stir. No breath rose and fell beneath her shirt. A smile still lingered on her lips, and the sight brought one to Victoria's own. Despite the blood on her shirt, the carnage that surrounded her, Cora Oglesby was a vision of peace. Her hat lay to one side of her head, the brim painted by threads of her hair. The moonlight softened the hard lines of her face, taking the years away from her. In its bluish hue, Victoria could still see the face of the girl she had been, the face her husband must have seen when they first met. They were together again at last, after all their long years of separation. The thought made Victoria's smile widen, and she felt a tear slide down her cheek.
"Rest well, my friend," she whispered, touching the hunter's hand. "You've earned it."
Victoria lingered there a moment longer, a captive of the powerful serenity