CHAPTER EIGHT
Jack awoke with a coughing fit. He rolled out of bed, but doubled over and felt like he was hacking his lungs out. Normally the sweats came only at night, but he felt them coming on now and felt weaker than he had in months.
Sonya entered the room with a plate of food.
“Back into bed with you,” she said. She set the food on the nightstand and helped Jack lie down. “You went out last night.” She pulled the blanket up over his chest.
“Trouble downstairs,” Jack said as his coughing subsided.
“Of course,” she said. “There’s always trouble.”
She rose, grabbed a towel and soaked it in the basin of water on the table. After wringing it out, she placed it on Jack’s forehead.
“You always go looking for trouble,” she said.
“Nonsense. Trouble always knows where I am and it just shows up to taunt me.”
She gave him a sad smile. “And you always rise to the occasion.”
“It’s a charming character flaw.” Jack’s eyes glazed over and his skin seemed more pale.
“You get some sleep, Jack. Trouble will still be hanging around when you feel better.”
“This is true.”
He knew he was lucky she hadn’t chosen someone else yet. She loved him in her own way or she wouldn’t be here with him now. He was comforted by the fact that after he died, she’d have no trouble finding someone else. If not for Sonya, Jack knew he’d have died ages ago. He loved her and wanted to stay with her, but it wasn’t fair to her for him to keep hanging on. He knew she’d be better off if he were gone. Of course, if he kept getting into trouble, she wouldn’t have long to wait. He pondered that for a short time then drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Around noon, Mayor Wilkins entered the saloon and approached the bartender. “Where’s the sheriff?” he asked. “He isn’t at his office.”
The bartender placed his palms on the bar and leaned forward. “Where have you been all morning, Mayor?”
“I had things to attend to at home. Where is the sheriff?”
“Dead.”
“What?” he said, surprised. “What happened?”
The bartender launched into an exaggerated version of the previous night’s events. The mayor listened, and read between the lines.
“…And then the marshal stole a bottle of whiskey, pulled up his skirts and ran out of town like a scared little girl.”
“The gentleman who stood up to the stranger. Where might I find him?”
“Suicide Jack? Dying of consumption upstairs.”
“I must speak with him.”
“Room 207. Tell his wife that if he dies up there, she’d better make sure she pays his tab.”
The mayor nodded and raced up the stairs.
He hesitated at room 207, took a deep breath to calm his nerves, then knocked.
A female voice called, “Who’s there?”
“The mayor, ma’am. I have business to discuss with your husband.”
“Come back tomorrow.”
“I’m afraid this business can’t wait until tomorrow.”
A moment later, the door opened a few inches and a lovely woman gazed out. Her skin was flawless and her hair was nicely styled. She wore a fancy dress and held herself like an aristocrat. “You’re really the mayor?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Anyone else with you?”
“No, ma’am.”
She looked him up and down, bit her lower lip, then nodded and swung the door open to admit him.
The mayor entered the room and saw a frail looking man lying in the bed. He looked two days dead except for the sweating. “How’s he doing?”
“What do you want?”
“I was hoping to hire your husband. He has a … reputation. I was hoping he could handle a little problem with a gentleman who needs … well, staked.”
“Staked?”
“Can your husband wake up long enough to hear me out?”
“He’s in no condition to hire himself out to you or anybody else.”
“I’d love to wait until he improves, but there simply isn’t time. The gentleman in question will kill everyone in town to get to me.”
Sonya gave him a sly smile. “Perhaps you should volunteer yourself and save the town.”
Was she serious? He couldn’t tell. “But the town needs me.”
“Not if everyone’s dead.”
“Let the man speak,” Jack said.
His eyes were still closed.
Sonya rushed to his side. “Did we wake you?”
Jack gave her a weak grin. “Weren’t we just discussing trouble? Let’s hear him out.” Jack opened one eye and looked over at the mayor. “Who might you be, good sir?”
“My name is Lucas Wilkins. I’m the mayor of Silver Plume.”
“Jack Talon. Excuse me if I don’t get up.”
“No problem, Mr. Talon.”
“Jack.”
“Very well, Jack.”
Jack looked at Sonya. “Love, could you get me a glass of whiskey?”
Wilkins expected her to object and offer water, but she simply nodded and moved to the table to pour him a drink. “How about you, Mayor Wilkins?” Sonya asked. “Would you care for some whiskey?”
“I—” He shrugged. “What the hell.”
“I’ll join you both.” She poured three glasses and passed them around.
Jack forced himself to sit up. He looked ready to faint from the exertion, but he slammed back the whiskey, let out a solid breath and ran a slender finger around the rim of the glass.
“You’re here to speak with me about the dead man who still walks.”
“Well, yes. How did you know he’s already dead?”
Jack hesitated. “The eyes.”
“Not getting shot and healing?” the mayor asked, surprised.
“I wasn’t sure that was true, but healing doesn’t imply death, it implies life. His eyes are without life and he has no fear in him at all.”
“His name is Christopher Smythe. From what I’ve been told, he’s what the gypsies call strigoi. A vampire.”
Wilkins expected Jack to laugh, but the thin man simply nodded. “Tough bastards to kill, I’d say.”
“You’ve faced vampires before?”
“No, but your friend Smythe evidently took a shotgun blast and kept going. He killed the sheriff and scared off an experienced marshal. Now he’s got you pissing your pants and he’s not even here. Seems pretty tough to me.”
“He can be killed.”
“Of course. Everything can be killed.”
“True. The best way to kill a vampire is a wooden stake through the heart. I’ve heard that direct sunlight will also kill them as they can only come out at night. They can’t enter a private residence without an invitation, but in Smythe’s case, he told me he’d burn my house down to get me to come outside.”
“Refill?” Jack asked holding his glass out to Sonya.
“Of course,” she said. She took the glass and as she poured, she looked at Wilkins. “He told you he’d burn your house down? Why didn’t he do it?”
Wilkins watched her hand the glass to Jack. She rolled a cigarette and handed that to him as well. He wondered if she were trying to speed him to his grave, but something about the way she looked at Jack reminded him of Mary. He could tell this woman loved Jack. She loved the man so much she’d keep giving him what he wanted even if it took him from her.
“Out of respect for Mary, my late wife,” Wilkins said at last.
“Really?” Sonya asked. “Jack, does that make sense to you?”
“If he loved her, perhaps, but I suspect it’s more than that. I think he wants our good mayor here to suffer through the day knowing he’ll die tonight. He’s like a cat playing with its food.”
“I’d prefer to think he’d grant him a day out of respect,” Sonya said.
“Of course you would,” Jack said, giving her a smile. “You’re a romantic.”
Mayor Wilkins could tell they loved one another, but he wasn’t sure what was lurking beneath the surface. It didn’t matter. He shook his head. “Perhaps it would be best if I tell you what happened to us.”
Wilkins pulled up a chair and sat down. He took a deep breath, ready to launch into the story of how he and Smythe met and their history together, but Jack coughed.
“Are you all right?” Wilkins asked.
“Depends on how long your story is going to be.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You suddenly got the look of a man settling in to tell his life story.”
“You need to know about how things were in order to understand how things are.”
“Hogwash,” Jack said. “Your idea of what I need to know and mine are vastly different things, Mayor. In your opinion, I need to know how you and this Smythe gentleman met, probably fell in love with the same woman, and you won her heart while he drew into a bad hand with the vampire problem.”
“That’s remarkably close. There was a couple we met on the train who took a liking to Christopher and they kept talking about being capable of granting eternal life. We thought they were religious, but as it happens they were both vampires. We all settled here and Christopher grew deathly ill. We were afraid he’d die, but the couple said they could help. When they turned him, he was no longer sick, but he was bound to them. Oh, he was upset when he learned what had happened, but when he got close to them, he couldn’t lift a finger against them.”
“Why not?”
“Evidently, if you’re turned by a vampire, there’s a hierarchy of power and you’re beneath the vampire who sired you.”
“How does a vampire turn you?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know and I don’t want to know. In any case, after he was turned, he tried to behave as a normal man … aside from having to avoid sunlight, of course.”
Jack shook his head. “You’re going back into things I don’t need to know, Mayor. I don’t care how he was. None of that matters. All that matters is how he is now. Why is he back?”
“The miners must have done something to bring him back.”
“I don’t understand.”
“At the funeral yesterday, two men approached me saying they wanted to work my old silver mine, but I told them no. They must have gone there anyway and they must have found the skeletons.”
“Now you have my attention,” Jack said. “Skeletons?”
“We drove stakes through the hearts of the Vandenberg couple and through Christopher because they couldn’t keep from killing people in the town. Bloodless corpses kept showing up, and we wanted a safe place to live and work our claim. Christopher helped us lure the Vandenbergs to the mine. He didn’t expect us to kill him, too, of course, but we can’t have vampires in town. It’s not good for business.”
“You didn’t decapitate them after staking them?”
“Heavens no! That’s disgusting!”
“It’s effective. I don’t know of anything that can return from a good decapitation.”
“I assure you, if we’d known they could come back, we’d have ground their bones to ashes to be certain they were gone forever.”
Jack nodded. “Am I to deduce that you’d like me to slay this vampire for you?”
“I will pay you handsomely for it, sir. Very handsomely. One thousand dollars.”
“In that case, I believe we’ve reached an accord.”
Jack held out his slender hand.
The mayor shook it, thinking it felt cold and clammy. “Thank you, Jack. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
“I suspect I’ll be able to count how much you appreciate it. If you’ll excuse me, I must get some rest. Provide Sonya with the details and she’ll make sure I’m there this evening to handle your little vampire problem.”