pitcher of fresh water. There was plenty of coffee, but the tiny bellhop seemed to have forgotten any other drinks. Not wanting to bother with him again, she threw her coat around her shoulders and stood up. She made her way through a small side door and found herself in an alley. The snow was still fresh and undisturbed, so she sank to her knees and began to shovel handfuls into her mouth. The cold numbed her throat, but it was water.
Cora wiped her mouth and rose to her feet. Stepping out from the alley into the street, she squinted in the sunlight and cursed her hat for being back in the room. She considered going up to fetch it, but that might mean another talk with Ben. Another talk meant another argument, and she didn't want to sit around doing nothing while he read through his books. He hadn't been there to see that monster bleed and hear it squeal as she unloaded on it, so he didn't know it could feel pain. Sure, it was tough, but so was she.
Her breath curled around her face as she looked down at her boots. He was right, though. Nothing they'd fought in the past had taken that many silver bullets to the head and kept coming. Knowing it was still up in that mineshaft made her uneasy, but what could she do about it?
Get some advice, she answered herself. She wasn't sure if Leadville had a proper priest, but maybe Father Baez was still in Denver. They could get some information from him before charging headlong back into the woods.
She'd met the Denver priest only once, nearly ten years before. She and Ben had been hunting a vampire nest in the area and needed information on its whereabouts. Father Baez had been eager to help, telling them several times that the occurrences had centered around an estate northwest of Denver. The little priest had even offered to consecrate their weapons before they set out. They hadn't needed the blessings renewed, but he had so wanted to give them more than just information that they couldn't bear to disappoint him. He had spoken the prayers in his quiet voice, beseeching Saint Anthony to shield the hunters as they sought to silence the servants of the devil. His prayers were answered a few days later when they found and burned out the vampire lair.
The sound of raised voices pulled Cora out of her reverie. Looking down the street, she could see a group of men milling about near the center of town. They were fingering picks and guns at their belts and pacing as if waiting for some action. Maybe fifty strong, most of them miners, the group tracked over the snow-packed streets like cattle waiting to board a train. More men trickled out from the surrounding saloons, adding to the herd until it filled the square.
Cora made her way down the wooden sidewalk toward the angry mob. As she approached, they began calling in whiskey-slurred voices for somebody named Elkins. She couldn't make out what this Elkins had done to rile such a crowd, but now she was curious. She crawled up on an overturned rain barrel outside a brothel, folded her arms, and settled in to watch.
The grumbling and hollering of the men soon shed some light on what had stirred them up. From what she could make out, two miners named Elkins and Hines had turned violent while settling a card game the night before. Elkins had knifed up Hines pretty good before running out. Duggan's deputies had picked him up just outside of town and locked him up, but that wasn't good enough for Hines's mining buddies. They'd spent the rest of the night drinking themselves into a frenzy, and now they were demanding justice at the end of a rope. She heard the words "darkie" and "nigger" being tossed around, so she figured that Elkins was a black man, which slimmed his chances.
Despite her Southern birth, Cora had never held much against black men. Her family had never been rich enough to afford slaves, but they'd lived close enough to the Yankee states that freed slaves weren't all that unusual in town. Her
Cora wiped her mouth and rose to her feet. Stepping out from the alley into the street, she squinted in the sunlight and cursed her hat for being back in the room. She considered going up to fetch it, but that might mean another talk with Ben. Another talk meant another argument, and she didn't want to sit around doing nothing while he read through his books. He hadn't been there to see that monster bleed and hear it squeal as she unloaded on it, so he didn't know it could feel pain. Sure, it was tough, but so was she.
Her breath curled around her face as she looked down at her boots. He was right, though. Nothing they'd fought in the past had taken that many silver bullets to the head and kept coming. Knowing it was still up in that mineshaft made her uneasy, but what could she do about it?
Get some advice, she answered herself. She wasn't sure if Leadville had a proper priest, but maybe Father Baez was still in Denver. They could get some information from him before charging headlong back into the woods.
She'd met the Denver priest only once, nearly ten years before. She and Ben had been hunting a vampire nest in the area and needed information on its whereabouts. Father Baez had been eager to help, telling them several times that the occurrences had centered around an estate northwest of Denver. The little priest had even offered to consecrate their weapons before they set out. They hadn't needed the blessings renewed, but he had so wanted to give them more than just information that they couldn't bear to disappoint him. He had spoken the prayers in his quiet voice, beseeching Saint Anthony to shield the hunters as they sought to silence the servants of the devil. His prayers were answered a few days later when they found and burned out the vampire lair.
The sound of raised voices pulled Cora out of her reverie. Looking down the street, she could see a group of men milling about near the center of town. They were fingering picks and guns at their belts and pacing as if waiting for some action. Maybe fifty strong, most of them miners, the group tracked over the snow-packed streets like cattle waiting to board a train. More men trickled out from the surrounding saloons, adding to the herd until it filled the square.
Cora made her way down the wooden sidewalk toward the angry mob. As she approached, they began calling in whiskey-slurred voices for somebody named Elkins. She couldn't make out what this Elkins had done to rile such a crowd, but now she was curious. She crawled up on an overturned rain barrel outside a brothel, folded her arms, and settled in to watch.
The grumbling and hollering of the men soon shed some light on what had stirred them up. From what she could make out, two miners named Elkins and Hines had turned violent while settling a card game the night before. Elkins had knifed up Hines pretty good before running out. Duggan's deputies had picked him up just outside of town and locked him up, but that wasn't good enough for Hines's mining buddies. They'd spent the rest of the night drinking themselves into a frenzy, and now they were demanding justice at the end of a rope. She heard the words "darkie" and "nigger" being tossed around, so she figured that Elkins was a black man, which slimmed his chances.
Despite her Southern birth, Cora had never held much against black men. Her family had never been rich enough to afford slaves, but they'd lived close enough to the Yankee states that freed slaves weren't all that unusual in town. Her
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