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Night Marshal Books 1-3 Box Set: Night Marshal/High Plains Moon/This Dance, These Bones

Page 4

by Gary Jonas


  “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 fo
r 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.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sonya listened to the conversation, thinking hard. When Jack agreed to the job, she knew she didn’t have much time. She led the mayor out of the room.

  “Tell me more about the vampires,” she said.

  “What would you like to know?” the mayor asked.

  “You say they can grant eternal life?”

  “Not exactly. They can obviously still be killed – sunlight, wooden stakes through the heart, decapitation as your husband pointed out.”

  “But they don’t get sick?”

  “I think I know where you’re going with this, my dear. I implore you not to explore that avenue any further. Yes, if your husband were turned, he would no longer suffer from consumption, but he would have to kill people to survive.”

  “He kills people already,” Sonya said.

  “This is different. He would have to drink their blood.”

  “He’s done worse.”

  “Oh, this is not going the way I’d like. It’s a bad idea.” The mayor walked down the hall toward the stairs.

  Sonya followed him. “Vampires don’t get sick and they don’t age.”

  “But they can’t go out in the daytime.”

  “We’re more into the night time anyway.”

  “And they have to kill people. They’re evil. Demons. Hellspawn.”

  “From what you’ve told me, Christopher was trying to be a normal person in spite of his affliction.”

  “Well, yes, but that’s not the point.”

  Sonya nodded. “I overheard some people talking about your wife yesterday.”

  The mayor stopped at the stairwell and turned toward her. “And?”

  “They said she was a lovely woman.”

  “She was very attractive. Perhaps not quite as beautiful as you, but she was my world.”

  “Why did you kill Christopher?”

  “What? Because he was a vampire.”

  “Who was trying to live as a human. So why kill him? When did you get married?”

  “I don’t think we should be discussing this,” Mayor Wilkins said and descended the stairs.

  Sonya laughed. “She was in love with him. And he was in love with her. Even after he became a vampire.”

  The mayor spun and moved back upstairs. “Keep your voice down.”

  “He was going to turn her, wasn’t he?”

  The mayor’s face flushed. “I refuse to discuss this further.”

  “You won her not because she chose you over him, but because you killed him and she never knew. Isn’t that right?”

  “How can you say such a thing?”

  Sonya smiled. “I know men.”

  “If you were a man, I’d…”

  “If I were a man, you would run away and hide.”

  “Enough of this.” He sighed and started down the stairs.

  “How many years did she grieve before she broke down and agreed to marry you?”

  The mayor didn’t answer. Sonya laughed and moved down the stairs behind him.

  “Oh, Mayor,” she said.

  He stopped at the door to the saloon, drew a breath then turned to face her. There were only a few people in the saloon at this hour, and nobody paid them much attention. “What now?”

  “Are you going to tell me when and where to have Jack meet you this evening?”

  “My house at sundown.”

  Sonya approached the mayor. She gave him a sly look, then leaned close and whispered in his ear. “My guess is that you knew the Vandenbergs were vampires and you suggested they might like Christopher. Your wife barely acknowledged your existence before you killed him. Right?”

  “My parents raised me to never use certain words in front of a lady, but you are not a lady. You are a royal bitch.”

  “Thank you,” Sonya said. “One more thing before you go.”

  He looked at her and waited.

  She smiled, pretty as she could, then said, “Jack’s price just doubled.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Christopher Smythe hated sleeping in the mine. It brought back bad memories of the betrayal. He considered taking a house from someone, but until he had a better feel for things, he wanted a little distance between himself and the town. If they remembered him, they might attack him in the daytime. Far better to get control of things first. He rolled onto his side and tried to push thoughts of Mary out of his mind.

  He couldn’t believe she was gone. He would never hear her laugh again, never see the moonlight glisten in her hair. He would never hold her in his arms and feel her heartbeat. Now her heart was like his, but she was truly gone and he could do nothing to bring her back.

  First, Lucas would pay for his betrayal.

  Smythe heard footsteps in the mine and he sat up.

  “Um, sir?” Ted said. “You … um … you have company.”

  Smythe rose to his feet as Ted approached carrying a lantern. Even without the light, Smythe could see a beautiful woman holding a Colt 45 nudging Ted forward through the dark, damp mine.

  “That’s a big gun,” Smythe said.

  “I don’t care for dainty little derringers,” Sonya said. “You need better protection than this buffoon.”

  “I’ve been thinking along the same lines since I met him.”

  “Sorry, sir,” Ted said. “She caught me by surprise and—”

  “Silence your tongue or I’ll put you out of my misery.”

  Ted clamped his mouth shut.

  Smythe looked Sonya up and down. “I wasn’t prepared to play host today.”

  “That’s all right. My name is Sonya Talon and I’d like to talk to you.”

  “Sonya,” Smythe said. “You’re quite lovely, but you pale beside my beloved.”

  “Bad luck to have a woman in a mine,” Ted grumbled as he leaned against the wall.

  “I told you to be quiet,” Smythe said.

  “But women upset the tommy-knockers.”

  “Men and their superstitions,” Smythe said.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Sonya said with a grin. “Makes them easy to manipulate.”

  Smythe smiled in return. “I suppose it does. How did you find me? There are a great many mines in the area.”

  She shrugged. “Most of the tracks go to the big mines, but a set of two tracks led here. They were mostly filled in by the new snow, but I could still make them out enough to follow them.”

  Smythe nodded, impressed. “What brings you to my humble abode?”

  Sonya tucked the gun into her coat. “I don’t believe I’ll need this and it wouldn’t do me much good against you anyway. I have a business matter I’d like to discuss with you.”

  Smythe found himself intrigued. “I’m listening.”

  “Mayor Wilkins hired my husband to kill you.”

  He shrugged. “Go on.”

  “My husband, Jack,” she said. Smythe gave no reaction, so she said, “Jack Talon.”

  He shook his head.

  “You haven’t heard of Suicide Jack?”

  “Sorry, no.”

  “You met him last night.”

  Smythe raised an eyebrow. “The dying gunslinger. He’s clearly looked Death in the eye and not flinched.”

  “He’s very good at what he does.”

  “I’m sure he is.”

  “I don’t want to lose him.”

  “And now we’re getting to the crux of the matter. You’re here to beg me not to kill him.”

  “No.”

&nbs
p; “Interesting. What then?”

  “I want you to turn me.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “So that I could turn him. I can’t bear to watch him die. It’s been a slow decline for several years, but it’s accelerating. The doctors say he could have days, weeks, maybe a month, but he won’t live through the year.”

  “Not to be crass, but how does any of this benefit me?”

  “He won’t kill you.”

  Smythe laughed. “He won’t kill me regardless, my dear.”

  Now Sonya laughed. “He’s killed far worse than you, Mr. Smythe.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “You’re just a vampire.”

  “None of us are just anything. Are you just a woman? Is Ted over there just a moron? Is Lucas just a mayor? What we are does not define us. What we do defines us.”

  “You loved Mary.”

  “I still do.”

  “I love Jack. I don’t want to watch him die.”

  “Close your eyes. I’ll kill him quick.”

  “How would Mary feel about that?”

  “Mary is dead. She doesn’t feel anything anymore. My heart doesn’t beat, but it hurts me just the same. Mary and I were going to spend eternity together. Why should I grant you what I can’t have myself?”

  “But—”

  “Enough,” Smythe said. He rushed forward and grabbed Sonya.

  “Let go!”

  “I couldn’t decide whether you were incredibly brave or incredibly foolish to walk into my territory. I believe the verdict has come in.”

  Smythe pinched her carotid artery closed. She struggled for a few seconds, then her eyes glazed over and she passed out.

  “Can I have her?” Ted asked.

  “You may have her gun, but that’s all.”

  “Okay,” Ted said. He reached into her coat, his hands wandering a bit until Smythe shot him a look, then pulled the gun out. “This is nice.”

  “Try not to shoot yourself.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Jack wasn’t worried when he awoke to find Sonya gone.

  He simply got up and prepared himself to face the day. Sonya would have told him to dress in layers, so he followed that unspoken advice. His duster lay folded on a rusty chest. A glance out the window told him the snow was still coming down hard. He grabbed the coat and left the room.

 

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