Sheep's Clothing (9 page)

“Here we are,” I said. The General Store was closed for the evening, its lights extinguished and, in all likelihood, its doors locked.

“He said it was in a storage room here,” Wolf said. “Is there a back door?”

“Yes, but won’t it be locked as well?”

Wolf shrugged. “He had to get it in there somehow, didn’t he? Come on.”

We circled around to the rear of the building, to the step that led up to the back door. As we walked, I caught movement out of the tail of my eye, but when I turned to look I saw nothing out of the ordinary. I shrugged, chalking it up to nerves.

“Here we go,” Wolf said, as the doorknob turned easily in his grip. He pulled the door open. “See what I mean? Unlocked.”

“That’s odd,” I said. “This door should be fastened, especially at night.”

“Maybe so, but this is a small town where everyone knows everyone.” Wolf turned to glance at me. “Ya keep watch—I’ll pop in and get this one taken care of.”

“Won’t you need the lantern?” I asked, offering it to him.

He waved it away. “Keep it. My night vision is a lot better than yars. Just keep yar wits about ya.”

With that he vanished into the shadows, leaving me to huddle in the doorway. Lightning flashed, and a half-second later thunder crashed. The storm was almost atop us. Ordinarily the people of Salvation might welcome the rain, but I shared no such sentiments, and I imagined they would likewise change their tune if they were out in this deluge.

As I waited, I caught sight of movement again in the downpour, a pale, humanoid figure clad all in white. I wondered that anyone else would be insane enough to be out in such weather. When the figure drew closer, I perceived that it was a red-haired woman in a sodden gown. I recognized her at once—Rosette. Her hair was loose in wet strands about her face, which was as pale as the gown that clung to her.

The gown, in turn, clung scandalously to her feminine curves so that I saw—could not help but see—the outline of her breasts and thighs through the diaphanous fabric. She seemed not to notice or care about her state as she drew closer, her dark eyes fixed hungrily on me and her full red lips parted in a promise.

“You must be Doctor Meadows,” she purred, and I found I could hear her clearly above the rain, by some means that I cannot explain even now. She wrapped her arms around herself. “I fear I am chilled from the rain. Will you be kind enough to warm me?”

I consider myself a virtuous man, but I am, after all, human. As Rosette stalked closer, ungentlemanly parts of me responded to her in ways I could not quite control. I ached in heart and loins alike to gather her close—only to stave off her chill, or so I told myself—but as she was nearly in my arms I finally noticed through my own chill the icy warning of the agate I wore.

The warning came almost too late. I stiffened, trying to push her away, and in the next instant she caught me in a grip of iron. Her sensual expression turned predatory, her eyes flared red, and she smiled, baring a mouthful of razor-sharp fangs. My blood ran cold to match the rest of me, and my bladder went numb—making me glad that I was already too wet for what I did next to be much in evidence afterwards.

Rosette was shockingly strong, straining against my grip and snapping at my throat. I wanted to call for help,
but my terror strangled my words. My arms trembled with the effort to holding her at bay, but she shifted her grip and dug nails like a cougar’s claws into the meat of my arms. I cried out, reflexively jerking my arms away—and in the next moment her fangs were in my neck.

Half a heartbeat after that she jerked away, and then fell limp in my arms. I saw the fletched shaft of a crossbow quarrel protruding from between her shoulder blades. Beyond her, Wolf was just lowering the crossbow from his shoulder.

“Damn it, Doc!” he snapped, glaring at me. “I told ya to keep yar wits about ya! 
Takuni slolye sni
! Do ya want to get yarself killed?”

He stalked over to the fallen Rosette, and I reached up to touch my neck where she’d bitten me. To my shock and dismay, my fingers came away red with blood. The carotid artery didn’t seem to be torn, but I clamped my hand over the wound to staunch the bleeding. Wolf crouched near Rosette, whose fang-lined jaws were sluggishly flexing, as though still trying to bite. I felt light-headed and staggered over to lean against the back wall of the General Store.

“Did… did you…?” I managed to choke out.

“Ayup,” he said. “Found and consecrated, neat as
ya please.” He took another vial of holy water from his pack and offered it to me. “Get inside and get that washed off with this. It’ll heal a lot faster that way.”

I took the vial of holy water, not sure what he was going on about, but I was shaken so badly that I stepped inside and out of the rain while he snapped off the quarrel’s shaft and settled Rosette on her back.

I turned my back on the scene as I splashed myrrh-scented water against the wound Rosette had left, and immediately hissed in pain as the wound started to burn like I’d just applied iodine to it. However, under my fingers I felt, to my astonishment, the flesh mending together. Encouraged, I continued washing the wound, while behind me Wolf chanted in a low, singsong voice over the body of Rosette.

After a few more minutes the bite wound was gone entirely, and I turned to see Wolf finishing some sort of ritual of last rites over Rosette. He sketched a complex gesture over her and kissed the bird skull he wore around his neck. Finally, he drew the woodcutting axe and hacked off her head. He glanced up at me, spattered lightly with blood that even now the rain was washing away.

“I think ya’ve seen enough for one night,” he said. “Let’s get ya home. I’ll bury her later.”

As the shock settled in, I started shaking, and I could not find it in me to argue.

***

It took an hour and two glasses of brandy before I felt ready to discuss the matter coherently.

“So that’s what vampires do,” I said numbly.

“That’s what vampires do,” he agreed.

“Nasty business,” I said.

He nodded. “They are,” he agreed.

“Rosette… is she…?” I couldn’t quite formulate what one would call killing a creature that was already dead.

“Freed,” he supplied. “Her soul’s gone on to meet her Maker, and Russeau won’t be able to use her as a catspaw again.”

“And what was that chanting and suchlike you did after… after…” I took another gulp of brandy.

“A cleansing ritual,” he said. “Gets the demon off her soul so she can go to a proper reward rather than getting dragged down with it.” He ticked off the steps on his fingers. “First,
ya have to paralyze ‘em. Skewering them through the heart with any kind of wood will do just fine for that. Second, ya get rid of the demon in her corpse. Any exorcism or purifying rite will do that. Finally, ya chop off their head, just to keep something else from using the body after.”

I nodded slowly. “So, what else needs to be done?” I asked.

“Done?” Wolf echoed.

“Yes. You said that Russeau needed killing—and he should pay for what he did to your village.”

“Whelp. Killing him won’t be easy. He’s already feeding on this town, and it’ll get harder to go after him or Kimimela the more blood they get in ‘em.”

“And she’s… a vampire too?” I ventured.

He nodded with a grunt. “She’s his. Bound to him, like I said. He controls her, like he did Rosette.” His expression grew distant. “If we don’t take ‘er down first she’ll play merry hell while we’re trying to kill him.”

“And there’s… nothing we can do to free her without killing her?” I asked, mindful of Wolf’s personal stake in this.

He frowned and shook his head. “Once they’re turned, that’s it. No going back. Only thing ya can do is put ‘em down like rabid dogs.” He turned away then, standing up and crossing the room. I suspected he was thinking of having to do this to Kimimela, but I said nothing.

“So… now that we’ve… put one of them down,” I said, still trying to turn over this whole thing in my head, “What happens next?”

Wolf turned back towards me. “Russeau probably knew she was destroyed, soon as I cut off her head. He’ll reckon that it was my doing, so he’ll come looking for me.”

A chill went down my spine. “What’s he likely to do?”

“He won’t come after me during the day,” Wolf said. “He’s not as powerful as he is at night. But we have to find the other lairs so he has fewer places to hide.”

I sighed. I tried to formulate the next step in our plans to save Salvation, but I just couldn’t concentrate.

“Get some rest,” he said. “We’re going to have a busy day tomorrow.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep at all tonight,” I said, but as I said this I realized to my relief that the brandy was doing its job of unwinding my poor nerves.

“Give it a try, anyway,” Wolf said, standing up. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“I’m going to give Rosette a proper burial,” he said, and left.

***

              In the morning I awoke to the sound of someone rapping at my front door. Still groggy from my previous late night, I stumbled down in my nightshirt and pants to answer the door. Wolf, I saw, was still abed after his late-night activities, but at least he’d cleaned up after himself.

             
Gib stood on my front porch, hat in hand, his face pale and lined with worry. Knowing that Russeau was staying at the Lucky Lady, I suspected the cause of his visit.

             
“It’s May,” he said without preamble. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but I think it’s whatever’s been going around lately.”

             
“What’s wrong?” I asked.

             
“She’s usually up early to start breakfast for our guests, but I had the Devil’s own time waking her—and she’s so pale—”

             
“Wait here,” I said shortly. “Let me get dressed and I’ll be straight over.”

             
As I dressed, I slipped the agate on over my head and tucked it under my shirt. After a few moments’ thought, I grabbed two vials of holy water.

When I arrived at the Lucky Lady, May was indeed frightfully pale, and I found a half-healed wound at the inside of her wrist. Her pulse was rapid and thready, and I knew that I was going to have to act quickly if she was to recover.

A blood transfusion was still a relatively new procedure in those days, but I had no choice. I had Gib pick up a few supplies from my office, and he happily donated two pints of blood to his wife.

Neither of them knew where the wound came from, and May’s nightgown was undamaged and unstained. Both of them had slept soundly the night before, however, and I knew that these things had been happening at night. My mind raced as I washed up after the transfusion.

Rosette had been a vampire. This made it more likely that Russeau and Kimimela were also vampires. And Russeau and his companions had been staying at the Lucky Lady these past few days, apparently without the need to feed on their gracious hosts.

Had something changed? This struck me as a desperate act, though I couldn’t say why.

Was it in response to Rosette’s death?

“Got a bee in
yar bonnet, Doc?” Gib asked.

I straightened up and dried my hands. “Maybe,” I said, and pulled out one of the vials of holy water. “Wash her wrist with this. It will hurt, but keep washing until it’s finished. I think I need to talk to one of your guests.”

He frowned, taking the holy water. “Which one?”

“Alexandre Russeau. Which room is he in?” An instant later the agate went cold under my shirt.

“Right here,” said the chillingly smooth voice I recognized as Russeau’s. I whipped around to see him in the doorway, watching the proceedings with detached interest.

“Dammit, Russeau!” Gib exclaimed, mirroring my own reaction. “
Ya damn near gave us a heart attack! Ya walk on cat feet or something?”

Russeau smiled thinly. “Of course not, Mr. Gibson.” His gaze flicked over to May. “Has something befallen your lovely wife?”

There was something about his tone I didn’t like at all—the barest hint of amusement at the whole thing. I saw that Gib caught it as well, as he moved to put himself between Russeau and May.

“Actually, you’re the exact person I wanted to see,” I said, endeavoring to keep my voice as level as possible. My heart pounded in terror, as I was acutely aware that Russeau now stood in the only exit to the room, and the only weapon I currently possessed was an infusion needle.

And, I realized, the other vial of holy water. If holy water consecrated vampire lairs and got rid of vampire bites, I wondered what it would do to an actual vampire. I would have to wait for an opportunity to present itself without putting the Gibsons at risk.

“Is that so?” Russeau said, his mouth twitching into a facsimile of a smile—and in that moment I
knew
that whatever else he was, he was absolutely capable of something like this. “As a matter of fact, I wished to speak with you also. Perhaps we might adjourn to my room, if you are finished here?”

I glanced at May, then at Gib.

“I’ll watch over her,” Gib said. “Be back quick, though.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “Shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes,” I said.

He gave me a slight nod that suggested that if I took longer than that, he was going to come find me.

Against every survival instinct I possessed, I followed Russeau into the room he had presumably shared with his two companions. I did not see Kimimela in immediate evidence, but I did see a closed pine box on the floor at the foot of the bed.

Aha,
I thought. Another pine box located, and DuPont certainly had said nothing about this one. I wouldn’t have a chance to consecrate it now, though—not with Russeau watching and only one vial on me.

Russeau followed my gaze.

“She’s sleeping,” he said simply. “I do not wish to disturb her.”

I glanced at Russeau and weighed my words carefully. “You know what befell Miss May, don’t you?” I said, treading lightly.

“I do,” he replied. “And I believe you know a man of my acquaintance.” His nostrils flared. “You’ve been in close contact with him quite recently, and I believe he knows what befell my sister.”

Sweat broke out on my brow. “What do you want?” I rasped, my throat dry. The agate was frigid against my skin.

He looked me dead in the eye, and his gaze seemed to go straight through me and out the back of my head. “I want to know how much you know—how much he’s told you, and I want to know where he is. I would have a word with him regarding the unfortunate fate of Rosette.”

My heart gave a frantic, skittish sideways leap. Of course he knew Rosette was dead. He would almost have to. “I know what you are,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could manage.

Russeau smiled, but there was no cheer to it.

“Do you now?” he asked. “And what is it you think you know?”

My heart was pounding. I reached into my pocket and fingered the vial of holy water there. “I know you’re a vampire,” I said, though my voice shook with bone-deep terror.

“Yes, I imagine
he
told you all about me. I can smell that half-breed all over you.” He inhaled deeply through his nose, as though savoring the smell. “He’s been hunting me for a while, you know.”

I gave a slight nod.

“And now he’s roped you into it.” He sighed and offered me a sympathetic look. “He does that a lot. This is just between him and me, really. I’m sorry you had to get into the middle of it.”

But it
wasn’t
just between Russeau and Wolf—it involved the whole town, as near as I could figure. I swallowed, trying to remedy the dryness in my throat, to no avail. “What do you want?” I asked.

He tilted his head. “I want what every man, woman, and child here wants—a place to live, and to conduct my business in peace. Your friend is determined to take that away from me.”

I thought about May, and the others that I knew had been bitten, and most of all the monster that had been Rosette.

“You’re a monster,” I said, my voice cracking with nerves. “You feed on people.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. “True enough,” he agreed. “But how is that any different from the barons who set up railroads or cattle ranches on the backs of his workers?” He sighed. “Besides, your charitable mayor is expediting the sale of my new property as we speak. Once I’m set up, neither you nor your friend will be able to dislodge me.” He grinned at me, a horrible expression that put me in mind of a crocodile. “And already my influence here is well-established.”

How many people had he fed on since he’d arrived? How many people had he charmed, by whatever sorcery or charisma he possessed?

“So, just a friendly word of advice, Doctor,” he continued. “Keep your nose out of this.” He started walking slowly towards me, and I backed up until my back met the door. “Stay out of my way, and no-one will get hurt.
However—
” In an eye-blink he was nearly nose to nose with me, pinning me to the door with a grip of iron around my throat. “If you interfere any further, it will go very badly for you and your friends.”

I struggled against him, trying desperately to break his grip as panic threatened to overwhelm me, but I might as well have been struggling against a stone statue for all the good it did me.

“The next time,” he continued, still in that same unnaturally calm voice, “I will take someone dear to you, and you will know that you could have prevented it.”

My thoughts immediately turned to Sarah, and an instant later his horrible grin widened.

“Yes,” he said. “She will do nicely.”

I couldn’t be sure if he’d actually read my thoughts, or if this was all an elaborate bluff based on a lucky guess, but I redoubled my efforts to get free. As I struggled, I pulled the vial of holy water from my pocket. I would have only one shot with this, and I had to make it count. What would holy water do to a vampire? I was about to find out.