Devlin's Curse (11 page)

Jamie waited for an answer.

“Tell Miss Esmeralda thank you for the warning
.
” He casually dealt another hand. Jamie nodded and left the saloon. Devlin played the cards without thought to where they might lie.

The fact that Peabody’s alive leaves me with only one conclusion. There is a new sinister twist to this battle. Just how can Walking Ghost and myself triumph over these new enemies?
he thought.
 

An hour later he gathered up his winnings and headed out to the boardwalk. The sun was still high in the sky; he had to force himself not to walk up to B Street to the Emerald Salon. He turned instead and headed down in the direction of his railcar. Once inside he went straight to his bedroom. On the wall opposite the bed was a bookcase filled with well-worn volumes. He placed his hand under the corner of the bookcase and pushed on the hidden lever. The bookcase swung aside to reveal a shallow cabinet filled with weapons; a fascinating array from seventeenth century matchlock muskets and pistols to claymores and samurai swords. A collection gleaned from a life cursed with violence. A primitive blood lust filled his veins at the anticipation of the battle to come. He felt confident in his mini-arsenal and gathered together an armload of swords and pistols. He then closed the door to the secret compartment back up again.

He felt his time with Esmeralda had changed the course of this battle. Before he had fought to die a mortal death now he fought to live.

Peabody be damned!

“Tell me what you know of Devlin Winter. No one stands between me, and what is mine. I want him dead,” Big Jim said. 

Lance Peabody slouched in a chair across from Big Jim. He spit, expertly, into a brass spittoon. He chuckled.

“You ain’t got no idea what yer up agin, he ain’t a man that’s fer sure.”

Big Jim sat back in his chair. “I know what he’s supposed to be, the undead, a goddamn vampire.” 

Lance snorted. “Him an me’s got a score ta settle.  Jus makes it sweeter that I bin getting paid ta do it.” 

Big Jim liked what he heard. “That’s right, Peabody and this time I expect to have results. I’ve already lost two of my men and one is missing. What’s your plan?”

Lance squinted as he reached into his coat and pulled out a huge bowie knife and then slammed it down on the desk.“ I ain’t never got a plan, I’m just gonna wait till the time is right and then…well if’n bullets don’t do the trick I aim ta slit his gullet.” He stared at Big Jim. “In the meantime me an my boys got a powerful thirst and it ain’t just for whisky we’re gonna cut a path through them saloons and hurdy houses an it’s gonna be on your dollar,” Peabody’s sneered and showed his blackened teeth.

Lance Peabody vibrates evil
. Big Jim thought.

He knew the kind of killer he was and what he was capable of. He was both repulsed and attracted at the same time however he was sure he’d picked the right man for the job. Peabody lusted for the taste of blood and chaos but unfortunately he was also a loose cannon on deck. He was not sure how he would be able to restrain Peabody and his gang once they scented blood. He needed to distance himself from the butchery that was sure to come no matter how much he might relish it.

Big Jim wanted Devlin Winter dead but he did not want to draw attention to his real purpose behind the Gilded Bird mine, at least not until it was well and truly his.

Dahlia had returned to town but this time she was careful to stay in the shadows. It had not been hard to observe the activities of her Lord from a distance. She had taken a room in a discrete boarding house on B Street not far from the Emerald Salon. A place that catered to the high priced mistresses of Virginia City’s big shot mining moguls.

Every last one of them had a fancy piece on the side,
she reckoned.
And who could blame them with all that money and nothing to spend it on but some dried up prune of a wife and a passel of snot nosed kids? And she aught ta know, her mamma was a man’s fancy piece and she was his bastard. When she came of age he sold her to the highest bidder, to another brothel. One owned by that vampire bitch Ligea. That was all in the past now and because of her Lord she was now free, had her a sweet little nest egg and could pick and choose her gentlelmun friends.

She sashayed down to the boardwalk in a new rose colored silk dress to have a look around. She spied that delicious young man, Miss Esmeralda’s Jamie, hot-footing it down the boardwalk past the Silver Queen Saloon. This evening she planned to peek into the saloons and see what that scumbag in the buffalo hide coat was up to. As the sun went down she made her way south towards the Barbary Coast and sniffed around. It did not take long to find where he and his pack had gone.

She just followed the sounds of gunfire.

When Devlin returned home to his railcar Walking Ghost was there waiting. There was a solemn air about his friend and he wore an eagle feather in his long gray hair. He had painted two slashes of yellow war paint on his cheeks. When they both sat down in front of the stove in Devlin’s parlor Walking Ghost was the first to speak.

“I have spoken with Spider Woman. She asked about you, she showed me many things, most of all how to kill a demon.”

Devlin stared into the flames. “The noose tightens, my friend. The demon is not our only worry. It appears that Lance Peabody has come back from the dead. I shot him square between the eyes back in Red Bluff then finished him off with one of his own stakes and now he’s here in Virginia City as one of Big Jim Diamond’s assassins.”

Walking Ghost sighed.  “Then this one does not feed on blood, my friend. He is Windigo, a flesh eater. You must cut off his head and burn it.” 

“Peabody is a beast. He’s a moron that knows no fear. That combination makes him dangerous and as unstable as nitroglycerin. By now he must know where to find me and it will be interesting to see what his next move will be.”

“What will you do?” Walking Ghost asked.

“I plan to do a little exterminating of my own. I will hunt them before they hunt me, thin them out, then Lance Peabody will have to face me alone without his pack of rabid dogs.”

“I would wish for his scalp to hang on my belt only then can I avenge my people,” Walking Ghost said.

“Is he and his kind why you are the last of your tribe? You’ve never spoken of it”

When Walking Ghost replied not a shred of emotion showed on his face.

“It was November, the coldest winter I could remember. The buffalo had been scarce and we had not been able to gather enough food or fuel to last through the winter. Several of the old ones and babies had died, fallen asleep never to wake again. For days we had been snowed in, hungry, freezing, with no help in sight. The howling wind tore through our teepees. The blinding white drove us to the edge of madness. On the fifth day of the storm my brother, Yellow Horse, rose from his blanket and ran out into the snow.  When he did not return we formed a small search party and went out to look for him. He had disappeared. The storm continued and about midnight a horrible hissing sound echoed through our camp. Terrible screams followed as our people were savaged and eaten alive by a horrible beast. It tore through my tepee and killed my family. Sharp claws grabbed me and I was thrown into the snow. I lay there unconscious for two days. When I awoke our camp was flattened and burned. The bodies of the dead were spread from one end to another. Alone with only the clothes on my back I left and never returned. The flesh eater Windigo had destroyed my whole tribe. This Peabody is one them.”

Devlin held his whisky glass up to the flames, he swirled the glass then downed the fiery liquid in one swallow.

“I know now that I underestimated Peabody in Red Bluff, but I am prepared this time to part his filthy head from his body,” Devlin said.

Walking Ghost looked grim. “Their hunger possesses them they feel no pain or fear and like rabid wolves they will keep coming”

“Even rabid wolves can be put down,” Devlin replied.

At Devlin’s words Walking Ghost nodded. He rose from his chair and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders.

“I go to put my ear to the ground, to listen to the wind, and to the minds of crazy white men”

Devlin chuckled and raised his whiskey glass.

“Be careful, I will see you in the morning and give the old witch my regards”

Walking Ghost walked back towards the hills. Devlin’s words had not convinced him. In fact his heart felt pierced by a thousand arrows. 

Now the prospect of meeting such evil again terrified him but at the same time filled him with resolve. His hands shook for a taste of the white man’s firewater but he would not touch a drop. Instead he would watch and wait for the right opportunity to avenge the honor of his people.

Back at the Emerald Salon, Esmeralda was on pins and needles ever since she’d sent Jamie with a note for Devlin. She continued to deal cards and smile with her customers, all the while keeping one eye on the door waiting and for Jamie’s return. When he finally showed up she excused herself from the table and drew Jamie upstairs to her office.

“Well? What did he say?” she asked.

Jamie shook his head. “Didn’t say nothing, ma’am, just took the note and thanked me.”

She wrung her hands together. The stubborn fool! Vampire or not if that horrible man Peabody was alive it meant that he was a powerful adversary. She ached to see Devlin but common sense prevailed. She needed to find Dahlia, convince her to introduce her to the other vampires in town. But she was nowhere to be found. During her short stay at the Emerald Salon, Dahlia had been an indifferent employee to say the least. She had made it a habit of coming in and out of the Salon when she felt like it with no notion of work ethic at all. It had been several days since Esmeralda had seen her. She’d disappeared along with Leonard White. She hoped it was not a coincidence. She reached into her desk and took out a gold piece and handed it to Jamie.

“Jamie, I have another task for you. I want you to find out where Dahlia is and when you do ask her to come here see me.”

Jamie nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Chapter Sixteen

Ligea

T
he Vampire community of Virginia City went about their macabre business in the shadows. It was a parasitical society that preyed on the lost and desperate, while drawing as little attention as possible and keeping to themselves. Once every so often, the discovery of a bloodless victim, and a brief sensational article about a mysterious death would be reported. Then it’d be swept under the rug the next day with the news of another type of heinous crime.

The center of the Vampires hive in Virginia City was the House of the Rising Moon on D Street. Their leader was the Madame herself, a tall beauty over six feet tall, with raven hair and black eyes, the vampire Queen Ligea – a Russian princess who was over two hundred years old.

She had known Devlin for at least one hundred of those years and she still held a secret torch for him. She would not however let her feelings for him endanger the rest of her vampire brood. Virginia City had been a blood bounty, the perfect combination of nameless victims, donors and their gold. She would not allow this latest business with Leonard White expose them. She had her own sources of information and knew Devlin had pricked a hornet’s nest with that snake Jim Diamond. She intended to stay far away from it. These things preyed heavy on her mind as she made her rounds through the house then settled down in her own private parlor. After a short while there was a knock on the door.

“Come,” she called. The door to the parlor opened to reveal a beautiful blond man dressed in a pearl gray suit and top hat. He removed his hat and bowed to Ligea.

“Madame?”

She floated forward and gave him her hand.  “Virgil, I am glad you have come, I have need of you.”

Virgil kissed her hands passionately. Then his gaze searched her face. She smiled. “No not that way, you and I are beyond that now. We must discuss the hive and the upcoming Vampire Ball.”

Virgil led her to one of the high backed settees and they sat opposite each other. She looked deep into his golden eyes. He had once been her donor but now he was her lover and a very inventive one at that.

“The Hive, my sweet boy, is in danger of being exposed.”

Virgil frowned. “But how? We do not mix with the mortals. What do they want from us?”

Ligea sighed. She took out a pre-rolled cigarette from an elaborate cloisonné box that sat on a small table next to the settee and then placed it in her ivory holder. Vigil took a match from another box on the marble top table, struck it and lit Ligea’s cigarette. 

She took a long drag, rose from the settee and started to pace across the room. She turned away from him and looked out the window. “It is that cursed Devlin Winter of the house of Dracul, he is here in Virginia City. He is a restless spirit and wherever he goes devastation follows.” 

Virgil went to her and took her hand again and squeezed her fingers lightly. “I will confront him and demand that he leave Virginia City.”

Ligea laughed softly and turned to him. “No, you must not. Devlin is a force unto himself. He does not mix well with our kind and I would not have anything happen to you.”

“ Madame, do you impugn my honor?” he asked. “Do you doubt that I could protect you from him?”

Ligea blew smoke from her cigarette. “No, no, never that. It is just these undercurrents, a sense of foreboding that I feel.”

“Hush, darling,” Virgil said. “We must encourage this rogue, this Devlin Winter, to come into the fold and join with us.” 

Ligea did not answer. She had her own reservations about Devlin and his business but at the same time this town continued to be a ripe fruit for their picking. She did not want to move on. 

Virgil led her to the settee then sat down and pulled her into his lap. He took her cigarette from her lips and set it aside. They kissed passionately, hungrily. Ligea rolled over on top of Virgil. She raised her skirts and straddled him. He unbuttoned his trousers and his ready cock entered her fiercely. It was a fiery sword that she rode like a wild stallion from the steppes of her homeland. His lips and teeth grazed her breasts and neck until finally she screamed her release into the night.

Ligea was right to feel the dark and murderous undercurrents; ones that led right to Lance Peabody and his crew.

Peabody had encountered Devlin once before in the town of Red Bluff and the gambler had nearly slayed him. Devlin used one of Peabody’s own hickory wood stakes, which he carried under his dirty coat at all times. Devlin had been his first run in with a bloodsucker and ever since then Lance had become a self-appointed hunter of Vampires. He had found them in almost every town in the west. He hated bloodsuckers but found their flesh had an extraordinary flavor - one that he craved. Like a bloodhound he could smell them and when he’d entered Virginia City his stomach growled with anticipation of a feast.

He now sat at a back table, in a Barbary Coast dive, with his coat pulled up to his ears.  He drank alone, his favorite poison, a concoction called Cactus Wine made from tequila and peyote tea.  His beady eyes scanned the saloon watching for signs, frequently checking out the mirror behind the bar for the telltale sign of his prey. After a little while the door opened and a tall blond man entered dressed in a fine gray suit just like a friggin’ southern gentleman. Dandified he was for sure and much more. He peeked at the mirror then back. Peabody’s nostrils flared. 

Virgil had walked the boardwalk for some time in the hope he’d come across Devlin Winter. Even though Ligea had forbid it, he still he still thought a civilized conversation with Winter was possible. It was clear in his mind that they must join forces and he could not understand the reluctance of his Queen. He did not want to dwell on the nature of her ties to Devlin. Over the years the acid of jealousy had consumed him more than once in with regards to him. 

He poked his head into the Sazanac Saloon. His cursory glance revealed only the usual congregation of drunken miners, gamblers and loafers. Devlin, however, was nowhere to be found. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the shadowy heap of a man sitting in a darkened corner of the saloon. His vampire senses, clicked into place and he was fully alerted to the man’s presence. The foul stench that emanated from him made Virgil’s skin crawl. The room felt devoid of oxygen, and without entering any further he backed out the way he came. As he did so he grasped the head of his silver handled cane and twisted it. He eased the razor sharp blade out an inch.

Better to keep it ready,
he thought.

Too late, Peabody had scented him and jumped from his chair, plunged through the doorway and ran out onto the boardwalk. He looked up and down the street but Virgil had melted into the shadows and was gone.

Virgil stayed hidden until he saw the man give up his quest. He watched while he cursed and stomped around then slammed back into the saloon.

Dahlia walked down from C Street her pockets full of gold. She stopped under a streetlight and observed the comings and goings of the house on D Street. She given things a lot of thought over the last couple of days, and now she’d decided to go forward with a plan of her own. A little after the midnight hour when the clients had slowed to a trickle then ceased altogether, she knocked on the door.  The same solemn black doorman opened it. He looked down at her.

“You needs ta go little miss, ain’t no use fer ya around here.” 

Dahlia stood her ground. “I need to see the Madame, tell her I’m here.” She crossed her arms. “I ain’t going nowheres til I see her. “ 

They stared at each other for a moment then he closed the door. A few minutes later it was opened again.

“She will see you, but only for a minute.” 

Dahlia followed him through the house to Ligea’s private parlor where previously as a donor she was forbidden to enter. When she walked into the room the Madame sat languidly on the settee sipping from a crystal glass. She frowned when she saw Dahlia. “What do you want Dahlia?”

Dahlia bowed her head and looked up through her lashes. “Madame, I wants you ta help Devlin Winter, there’s evil what’s come to town. A Devil who’s fixin’ ta kill him fer sure.” 

Ligea lifted one brow. “Evil? Who or what are you referring to? We are Vampire’s, immortals. We do not fear men.”

“He ain’t a man, he’s some kinda monster what hunts our kind, his name is Lance Peabody a butt ugly pig that wears a buffalo coat so dirty that I swears it could stand up on its own.”

Ligea took another sip from her glass of brandy. “You say this Peabody hunts our kind? And he is not mortal?”

Dahlia nodded. “I hear tell he’s got a taste for flesh, like a Zombie but worse.”

“Zombie? Are you sure Dahlia?”

“I knows a Zombie or the likes of one, yes I do.”

“Yes I suppose you do after all New Orleans has had an infestation of its own for years. But how do I know you are telling the truth? You were ever the sneaky little liar,” Ligea replied.

Dahlia sniffed. “And here I was come ta warn ya, I’m afeared that Devlin ain’t gonna be able to take this on alone.”

“Dahlia, you have been nothing but trouble since I pulled you out of that brothel in New Orleans. What Devlin is involved in is no business of mine and that’s how I would like to keep it.”

Dahlia wrung her hands. “Oh please, Madame, ya gots ta help him.”

Ligea shook her head. “No Dahlia, I will not involve myself or the Hive. Devlin has put these events into motion so he must deal with it himself.” 

She knew she was being dismissed and Dahlia stamped her foot in frustration. She did not want to accept those words. The uppity bitch! Odds were Devlin had put her bloomers in twist at sometime in the past. She bowed her head again. “I hope them’s not yer final words and if they are that ya don’t come ta regret um.”

Ligea’s eyes darkened. Dahlia sensed the interview was over.

“Good luck Dahlia but if you are smart you will stay away from Devlin and his cursed business.”

When Dahlia left Ligea felt a sharp pain pierce her where her human heart had been. She wanted to help Devlin but she could not endanger the rest of the Vampires. Dahlia had seen through her. In fact the little peasant was as besotted with him as she had been a hundred years ago. Since then she had survived on her own. She’d created a brood of vampires that thrived in the shadows of Virginia City. She had taught them to feed discretely, on donors or the unfortunate and the forgotten that roamed the streets at night. She had personally turned many of the prominent citizens of the town, from mine owners, to the mayor.

The Vampire Ball next week was an important event that would secure her power as Queen in the Nevada Territory. Ligea would not let Devlin divert her plans. Besides, had she not heard that he had become fascinated with another mortal? A Monte dealer named Esmeralda Jones? All the more reason for her to refuse to help him because he was Hell bound. Vampires and mortals didn’t mix.

However she was quite sure that if he had personally asked her for help, she would have folded like a house of cards and followed him down to the fiery depths of Hell and beyond. She poured herself another brandy lit a cigarette and looked out of the window into the night. A quote from another dark prince, Nostradamus, from her native land, whispered in her head.

“Will the future bring your wisdom to me?

Or will darkness rule the kingdom for all eternity?

You will live in my heart…

I will still remember even though we are apart.

I will feel you there for me,

As I walk the road of life,

You help me fight for what is right,

I will honor thy name.”

The next evening the object of Ligea’s thoughts sat just one street away at the Bucket of Blood Saloon.

He was playing poker with a newcomer in town. A hollow eyed stranger in a battered black hat who wore his guns slung low. The stranger had singled out Devlin and asked for a game but Devlin sensed he was there for another reason. This one he could tell was hungry, salivating for the taste of blood money. Devlin was mildly curious as to why Peabody had not shown his ugly face and why he was playing this cat and mouse game. Whatever Peabody had in store for him, he was ready. He shuffled and dealt the cards although, needless to say, they did not fall the stranger’s way.

After losing three hands in a row the stranger slammed down his cards and stood up. He rested his hand on his gun. “Mister, yer a godammned slick, I’m sayin it like it is! Only way youse kept winnin was to palm a couple a aces!”

Devlin sat back in his chair. “I‘m guessing a card game is not all you were after.”

The stranger moved his lips over a set of crooked teeth, in what could be mistaken for a smile. “You guessed right, Mister. You got a price on yer head and I aim ta kill ya for it.” 

He went for his gun but Devlin dove to the side as the bullets whizzed past his ear. 

As people scrambled out of the way Devlin jumped to his feet and his 44 roared. The bullet blew the stranger backwards. For a moment he lay there then lurched up, staggered and then crashed out the front door. Devlin followed him out to the street. The slug between the gunman’s eyes should have killed him but he was still on his feet. He watched him wobble off the boardwalk then plunge down an alley. He paused looking up and down the boardwalk, this was an obvious trap but he was curious as to where it led.