us a look at your kill."
EIGHT
A peal of thunder shook Victoria out of a deep sleep. She sat bolt upright, eyes wide, heart pounding. Nothing around her looked familiar. Where was she? What had that noise been? After a few seconds, her thoughts caught up to her fear, and she relaxed.
The fire had burned itself low, leaving a few embers still glowing in the fireplace. Victoria shivered. Outside, rain beat against the roof and swept across the yard in great sheets, driven by bursts of wind. Lightning lit the night in fits. It illuminated the yard, the barn, the wind pump, and even the cliffs. Victoria stood and crossed over to a window, holding her arms around herself. What would have happened to them if they hadn't reached the ranch before the tempest hit? They might not have survived the night, and if they had, it would have been without any rest at all.
"Mighty fine sight, ain't it?" Cora's voice came from a chair facing the door.
Victoria turned toward her. The hunter was nothing but a silhouette. "Indeed. It's quite frightening, truth be told. I was just imagining what it would be like to be caught outside in such a storm."
The silhouette nodded. "Ain't fun, I can tell you that."
"You've been in one?"
"Several," Cora said. "Can't go too long riding around the west without getting caught by weather sooner or later. Ain't regular out here, see. A body can ride from Denver to Santa Fe and have the front half of his horse sunburnt and the back half frozen by a blizzard."
"Surely not," Victoria said.
"Can't trust a cowpuncher's stories none," Cora said, "but all the same, sure seems like it was possible sometimes. Why, I seen a storm settle in over one half of a town and leave the other half all sunny and nice. You'll get to where you don't trust the weather, neither, you stay out here long enough. Best one can do is take along what he can and shoot what he can to keep his stores full. After that, it's just luck of the draw."
"Yes, shooting and dressing game," Victoria said. "Such an enjoyable way to pass the time."
Cora laughed. "Stew's awful good for all the blood and guts, though, ain't it?"
Despite herself, Victoria had to nod in agreement. Once she'd gotten past the horror of eating an animal she had just skinned and gutted herself, the taste was surprisingly pleasant. No steak and kidney pie, but not bad. When soaked in the broth, even the hardtack was far less abhorrent. The generous amount of salt Cora had added to the stew had no doubt helped the flavor along, though.
"You feel up to sitting for a spell?" Cora asked, stretching her arms. "All that excitement earlier done wore me out."
"Yes, I could have a turn at the watch," Victoria said. "How long was I asleep?"
"No more than a few hours," Cora said. "You was snoring like a mountain cat, though. Kept making me think one of them vampires was coming back to life."
"Very funny." Victoria walked over to the chair, and Cora got up. "I don't imagine your slumber is without the slightest noise."
"Oh, I ain't claiming nothing of the sort. I reckon you'll be ready to stuff your hat down my throat just to keep me quiet before too long. Don't go trying it, though, or you'll be the one with a mouthful of something unpleasant." Cora moved over to the remains of the fire, stretched out, and put her hat over her face. After a moment, she picked it up again. "Oh, my rifle is there by the chair if you need it."
"I hope it won't be necessary," Victoria said, but the hunter had already resumed her sleeping position. Victoria thought about stoking the fire for her but decided against it. If Cora had wanted the fire built up, she would have done it herself. She probably had some tactical reason for not doing so, some unwritten rule of vampire hunter code. Victoria herself couldn't be less interested in any code such individuals may hold to. Cora was a competent fighter, true, and she could almost be a pleasant companion at times, but Victoria held no more illusions about the wild romance of such a lifestyle. If the old hunter was any indication, hunting vampires for hire made one uncouth and brazen, neither of which were qualities Victoria desired to foster in herself.
Another flash of lightning lit the yard, making the three bundles lying