Victoria rubbed her arms. Until her parents died, she hadn't given those dreams a second thought since childhood. Even now, they still held some power over her, but such was the case with all childhood fears. No amount of rationalization could rid one of that deep-seated, primal terror of the unknown, the stranger, the dark. Facing them as a child was better, in a way. When she woke from her dreams, frightened and crying, her mother was always there with whispered comfort and a cool cloth for her forehead. Sitting there in the desert, alone but for the sleeping form of a half-mad gunfighter, she was swept up by a sudden longing for her mother's face and soft white fingers.
A chorus of screams rose up in the night, giving her a shock. Eyes wide, she brought the Colt up, ready to fire if the fox so much as poked an ear out of hiding. The cries echoed off the nearby cliffs and rolled through the brush, eerie in their near-human voices. Despite herself, Victoria imagined a legion of fork-tailed imps creeping in the shadows around her, laughing and calling to each other as they encircled the camp. Once planted, the fear grew inside her with alarming speed, threading its black tendrils through her ribs. Panic clutched at her throat. The cries drew nearer. She drew her revolver, pointing it this way and that at echoes and shadows. They were all around her.
She saw a shadow move and fired. The Colt's voice roared into the night, cutting off the eerie cries. Victoria blinked, blinded by the muzzle's flash. When the gunshot stopped ringing in her ears, the desert was silent.
"What is it?" Cora's voice, thick with sleep, broke the silence.
"Nothing," Victoria replied. Holstering her revolver, she turned back toward the campfire. "Just thought I saw something."
"Well, don't go wasting my bullets," Cora grumbled as she rolled toward the fire.
"I'm sorry," Victoria said, but the hunter's eyes were already closed.
Tossing a few sticks onto the fire, Victoria sat by the crackling flames and crossed her legs. Beyond the ring of light, the desert slept beneath its blanket of shadows. She breathed a sigh and looked toward the stars.
ELEVEN
"I never thought I could be so grateful to see such a pathetic group of buildings."
"Hey, now," Cora said, "this here group happens to be my hearth and home. I'll thank you not to make light of it."
"On the contrary," Victoria said, offering the hunter a smile, "it looks finer than Buckingham Palace."
They stood on the hard-packed earth of Albuquerque's streets. Behind them, the sun flooded the desert with weary red light from its place near the horizon. Victoria's face felt flushed and hot, her shirt stuck to her back, and her blisters throbbed. Swaying on her feet, she could think of nothing but the comfort awaiting her in the hotel.
"Ain't got to tell you how I ache in places I can't mention in front of a fine lady," Cora said.
Victoria's laugh sounded more like a groan. She pressed her hands into the small of her back and stretched. Her spine popped like the campfire from the previous night. "I'm afraid this fine lady shares your misery. I don't know if I've ever wanted a proper bath more than I do at this very moment."
"Right, then. Go get yourself washed up and come on over to the Print Shop when you finish."
"Tonight?" Victoria asked, her heart sinking.
"Yes ma'am," Cora said. "We got us some plans to lay out, and I'll warrant you ain't got no protection up in that room of yours."
"Protection?"
"Garlic and crucifixes and the like," Cora replied. "Ain't rightly sure if they're any good at keeping that squaw away, but they'll do against the vampire feller sure enough."
"I still have the one you gave me," Victoria said. "That will be enough."
Cora shrugged. "Suit yourself, then. I know I ain't planning on turning in without a bit of holy water under my pillow. Nothing short of a miracle that they didn't take us last night when we was vulnerable-like. Could be they was off someplace else, but I'd put a good bottle of whiskey on them having some big scheme. Anyhow, I ain't going to give that pair a second chance like that."
Before Victoria could reply, the hunter turned and started down the street, her boots kicking up dust. Victoria watched her black braid grow smaller for a few moments, then turned and climbed the hotel's front steps.