Author's Notes: It looks like I've messed up again and set the reader up for disappointment. I swear I am not doing this on purpose. I wasn't kidding when I said I was squeamish or that Monster Squad is about as violent as I can stand. I don't watch CSI or the like; I don't watch modern horror films; I rarely watch R-rated films at all. I also have never written a story quite like this one before, and it tends to make me over-cautious and paranoid. So all my warnings probably need to be taken with a large grain of salt. This is the darkest story I have ever written, but it's probably not that dark. This is also the most violent story I have ever written, but it's probably not that violent. So I'm going to stop putting warnings.

~Edited to shift notes to the end~

Chapter 7

More Questions than Answers

Diego rose in the morning, anxious to ride into Los Angeles. He wondered if anything else had happened, but he had to delay his departure because of immediate pressing business about the ranch. His only hope was that if anything had happened in town news would have traveled already. It was lunch time before he could go into town.

Since he wanted to talk to Mendoza, he headed directly for the tavern, but as he dismounted, he was surprised to see him emerging from the alcalde's office with Dracula's coach driver.

"Hola, Sergeant," Diego called, as he crossed the plaza.

"Hola, Don Diego," Mendoza said brightly. Then noticing Diego's glance at the man next to him, added, "This is Boris Delgado. He and his employer have just moved to the area."

"Yes, we met in passing the other night. There wasn't time for introductions," Diego said, extending a hand to Boris who shook it.

"No," Boris said. "We were in a bit of a hurry."

"Yes, it was quite stormy," Diego said. "Are you settling in?"

"Yes, the place was in better repair than my master expected. I've just come into town to see that all the paperwork is in order."

"And it all is, so far as I can tell," Mendoza said, and then obviously referring to another part of their conversation, continued, "Though I'm sorry I couldn't tell you more about Zorro. All we found is his cape, as you saw."

"Zorro?" Diego asked.

"Yes," Boris said. "My master was most curious about this masked bandit of yours. We heard stories of his exploits as we traveled. It seems quite unbelievable that such a man should perish in a rock fall."

"Well, it's an uncertain world," Diego said flatly. He suspected the man was fishing for information about Zorro for more reasons than idle curiosity. "Sergeant, I was just about to go to the tavern for lunch. Would you and Señor Delgado care to join me?"

"Oh, , Don Diego," Mendoza answered quickly.

"Thank you, Don Diego; I can't really stay for lunch, but I think I will get a drink before returning home," Boris said. As he stepped forward, Boris apparently tripped and fell hard against Diego's shoulder, throwing him off balance but not so much as to knock him over. "Forgive me. I seem to be clumsy today."

"It's all right," Diego said, straightening up, certain that the man had done it on purpose. As he walked behind Mendoza and Boris, he checked his pockets. Nothing seemed to be missing or added, for that matter. He shook his head slightly. Perhaps he was just being paranoid.

They walked into the tavern. Victoria smiled at Diego as he came through the door.

"Buenas dias, Diego," she said. "It's good to see you today. Have you come for lunch?"

"Yes, I couldn't keep away," he said.

He followed Mendoza and Boris to the table, where Boris ordered a glass of wine and Mendoza beef enchiladas. Diego had no preference and asked her for whatever was most convenient. Victoria poured Boris's drink before heading back towards the kitchen.

Watching Victoria as she disappeared behind the curtain, Boris asked, "Is that Zorro's... lady love?"

Diego's eyes narrowed. He got the impression that Boris was going to say something less polite. He let Mendoza answer.

"Oh, , it's very sad," Mendoza said. "I wouldn't bring Zorro up with the señorita."

"She doesn't seem to be overly grieving," Boris said, in a tone that barely avoided being offensive.

"Well, I don't think she's accepted it yet," Mendoza said. "It is hard to believe."

"True. Legends are seldom killed so easily," Boris said. "And if they are, their spirits are often restless."

"Restless?" Mendoza's eyes got round. "You're not saying that Zorro would turn into a ghost, are you?"

Boris shrugged. "I've heard of stranger things. My master has made a study of unearthly phenomena." Diego noticed a slight grin as Boris spoke. "Some say that delving too deeply is what caused his... illness."

"Illness?" Diego asked.

Boris looked him in the eye. "Well, a weakness in the eyes and too much sun makes him quite ill." Again there was the faint hint of a mocking smile.

Diego wasn't quite sure what to make of it; perhaps, it was just that he was trying to wind Mendoza up. However, it seemed more like he was enjoying a private joke at both their expenses.

Boris finished his wine and stood up. "Thank you for the drink, Don Diego. I'm afraid I need to return to the hacienda. I don't like to leave my master for too long."

"I understand. I hope the change in climate agrees with him."

"I'm sure it will," Boris said. He stepped away from the table before turning back, pulling a sealed note from his pocket. He handed it to Diego. "This is from my master. He thought it would clarify the details about the book. Good day, Sergeant. Don Diego." He made a slight bow to each before heading out the door.

Diego stared at the seal on the note. There was the imprint of a dragon with its tail wrapped around its neck. It seemed familiar to him. Before he could open it, Victoria came out with their lunches, and he shoved the note into his pocket. He decided to not to ask the sergeant if there was any further news about the bandits. If anything obvious had been discovered, Mendoza would already have mentioned it. It would probably be better to talk to Padre Benites. He was often just as informed and certainly more perceptive.

"Señor Delgado is a very curious fellow," Mendoza said. "So many questions. Mostly about Zorro. But also about your family..."

"My family?"

", he said Don Ladislao was some kind of distant relative."

"So my father told me. I don't really know anything about the family relationship save that it is very distant. Did he tell you anything about why Señor Dracula decided to settle here?"

"Just a change of climate. I don't know why he wanted to buy the Torres place though; the land's not that good, and it sounded like they might not stay that long. He must be really rich to buy something for a temporary residence," Mendoza said.

"So it would seem," Diego said thoughtfully. Or he really values his privacy. I wonder if he's hiding something other than health issues. "Did you say you showed Señor Delgado Zorro's cape?"

Mendoza looked surprised. "Oh, . The alcalde has been keeping it in his office. You know, I think he expected Zorro to come and claim it, but I can't be sure. He hasn't been himself since..." Mendoza stopped apparently just recalling that the Emissary would be as painful a subject for Diego as for the alcalde. He went back to the topic. "Señor Delgado seemed really fascinated by the cape."

Diego let conversation drift. He still wasn't sure what, if anything, he suspected the new arrivals of. Once he finished, he excused himself to talk to Victoria who was at the bar wiping glasses.

"How are you today, Victoria?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine. It's been quiet today. Nothing like the excitement of yesterday. I'm grateful for that," Victoria said. "The lancers were busy into the evening burying those bandits. It must have been terrible. Mendoza had hardly any appetite at all. And there are rumors that it was another worse gang. Do you think that's true?"

Diego was silent for a moment. "I really don't know. I'd think we'd have heard about such a vicious band. I don't understand it. I'm going to talk with Padre Benites. Maybe he has some insights into this." He hesitated a little. "Victoria, there is something I need to talk to you about, but..."

Victoria interrupted him. "Things keep interfering. I understand. I'm not going anywhere, Diego."

Diego had the strongest suspicion that Victoria knew exactly what he wanted to talk to her about, yet she didn't seem particularly angry or annoyed with him. It was like a heavy weight had been lifted from him. He still needed to find the time for that talk, but he was no longer so worried about it or at least so worried that Victoria would hit him for delaying telling her. And he was very concerned about the deaths of those bandits. Something so brutal and yet no sign of who had done it. And the Z's carved into the bodies. He needed to know why.

"Thank you, Victoria," he said.

"I'm worried about what's happening too," she said.

Diego placed some coins on the bar. "Well, I'd better go talk to Padre Benites, while I can. I'll see you later."

He found Padre Benites in the church's garden. There wasn't much to be done this time of the year, but Padre Benites found contentment in the little that did.

"Ah, Diego, I'm glad to see you," he said, as he rose from his work. "I was just finishing up."

"Good. I didn't want to disturb you."

"It's quite all right if you did. I expected to see you some time today. I knew you weren't going to let it rest. Let's sit down."

They walked to the benches outside the church. The weather was slightly chilly, but not inordinately so.

"I'm sorry I left so early yesterday, Padre," Diego said.

"You did your share and a little more, I suspect. Did you find out anything when you went out to where they were found?"

Diego wasn't surprised that Padre Benites knew that was what he was going to do. "I'm afraid I found very little, which was surprising. Such violence should have left more signs, shouldn't it?"

"It should, but this was more than just violence."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a feeling that I have, nothing more. Certainly nothing more solid than what you have discovered, my son. But there was a definite method to the brutality we saw, and I'm afraid it's not over yet."

"Have you heard anything?" Diego asked.

"No, but I'm a little worried. Jonata— I don't know if you know her— she helps at the mission school three times a week; she never misses. Except this morning."

"No message or explanation?"

"None at all. I sent Carlos to find out if she were ill or if there were some problems with her family, but all they said was she wasn't there but that she often went off on her own."

"So they're not worried."

Padre Benites shook his head slightly. "No, but I am."

Diego furrowed his brow. "Do you think that the two things are related?"

"I could not say for certain. I only know that I feel a great evil near our town," he said.

"So do I. Thank you for your time, Padre." Diego turned to go but Padre Benites stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"My son, this... this is no ordinary evil. Please, be careful."

The Padre's ominous words and grave expression caught Diego somewhat by surprise and left him at a loss for what to say other than, "I'll be careful. I promise."

~Z~Z~Z~

It was late afternoon when Diego found himself near Diablo Canyon for the first time since Toronado had dug him out of the rock slide. He had talked to Jonata's family, who as Padre Benites had said weren't concerned about her absence but still willing enough to tell him where she liked to go. He wondered if it was a coincidence that Jonata apparently spent a lot of time in this particular area, and if it wasn't, what did it mean?

The ground was mostly dry, leaving few indications, but Diego could make out the tracks of a horse and was puzzled a little to see what looked like the tracks of two different sets of men's boots. He wasn't sure where the second man had come from, as there was no sign that he'd been riding double with the one who'd come on horseback, nor was there any indication of which way he'd come in or how he'd left. Nor were there any signs of a young woman's tracks.

With no other clues available, Diego, with some difficulty, followed the tracks of the horse out of the canyon. It seemed to have moved rather aimlessly for some time before turning towards a large rocky area. It was here that he saw the first signs of a young woman, in the smaller sized boot marks in the dirt leading up to the rocks. Looking around, he was disturbed to find a spear lying in the dirt, its tip covered in dried blood. He wished there was a way to determine whether it was animal or human. Other than the blood on the spear, there were no signs of a struggle, but then it was impossible to get any indications from the smooth surface of the rocks.

The footprints of the second man were slightly deeper this time, but he couldn't be sure whether that was evidence of abduction or if someone were injured. His instinct inclined to the former; he wasn't sure precisely why. He went back to following the track but soon lost it on a hard packed trail, and with the light fading, he knew he wasn't going to pick it up again this evening. With great reluctance he turned back for home, stopping at the cave only long enough to leave the spear.

It was only after he'd finished supper that he remembered the letter Boris gave to him, so many hours earlier. Curious as to why Dracula was so keen to regain this book, Diego opened up the letter.

Don Diego,

I realize that my initial description of the volume which has such great personal meaning for my family was nonexistent beyond the title Libro magicae et occultis philosophia. It is a quarto sized volume with a black tooled leather cover. When it left my family's keeping, it was stored in a plain mahogany box to protect it from the elements.

I understand you are interested in the natural sciences, while your father is more concerned with your family estates. A volume such as this could hold little interest for either of you, while to me it would be invaluable, and I am willing to compensate you for any perceived loss in regards to this book.

Ladislao Dracula

Diego regarded the letter thoughtfully. It was more helpful in telling him what the book would look like, though not much. It certainly didn't do much to help him understand why the book was so important to Dracula. Deciding that finding the book might answer his questions, Diego went to where his great grandfather's papers were stored and started looking for answers.

~TBC~

Wednesday: Chapter 8 - Hunter and Hunted

End notes: So yesterday other than the lovely reviews, I did not have a good day. For some reason nights where I can't sleep are often followed by days when everything goes wrong (and strangely the things that go wrong rarely have anything to do with how tired I am; it's just being tired makes them seem worse). On the other hand, it did put me in the right frame of mind to finish editing chapter 9 where Diego is far more sleep-deprived and having a really bad day. So I suppose it's all good in the end.

I'm still giddy about the reviews I've received on the story and through PM. I've actually reached over 20 reviews for the first time since "One More Rich in Hope." It does make me gleeful. And I think I act even more like a Sesame Street character when exhausted than when actually rested. None of which silliness seems to have crept into this story, which in a way is a pity as Monster Squad had some really funny moments. It really is very much in the spirit of Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (which I know the makers said inspired it) where the monsters are treated seriously and it's the heroes that provide the comedy. However, Diego's having too hard a time to behave comically, and comedy has never really been my forte. And I probably should not write end notes before a good night's sleep, as I ramble.

Now on to something else. I'm glad that the fight with Jonata came off the way it was intended. Much as I liked her, she was never going to win, but I did want at least one of Dracula's victims to put up a good struggle, since the others, with one exception, don't prove much of a challenge.


~Moved from the top~

I'm reediting to try to remove the most spoilery things from the top while still leaving what I originally wrote.

I will say that in forthcoming chapters, there will be more deaths; there will be vampires and wooden stakes; there will be blood (but not that much); there will be characters driven to their limits; there will be some romance; there will be a major showdown. However, it will probably be so safely T-rated that you'll wonder why I bothered to make a fuss at all. So please enjoy this story for what it is, rather than what my fears have made it out to be.

And aside from the fact that vampires are as traditionally fond of black as Zorro is, no, it's not a coincidence that Dracula has his own black Andalusians.