CHAPTER 8
He felt the texture of each silken strand of hair as he used it to pull her head to the side. He leaned in, inhaling the scent emanating from the soft skin of her neck. She was with child; he had no doubt. He watched her lifeblood pulse just beneath the surface and blew along her thin vein to numb the pain. If only she knew how much he sheltered her from such things.
His teeth punctured her skin and the blood slowly flowed into his mouth. She had ceased to resist, moaning and pressing her body against him now. She tasted of herself but also something new. Her body was producing nourishment for the life growing inside. It gave him a heady feeling. Reluctantly, he pulled back. Louise looked up at him, eyes brimming with anticipation. His cock twitched. Her blood was on his lips.
"Louise," he growled. He slipped his hands underneath the top of her dress and yanked the garment apart, tearing it off her body. The mangled clothing fell to the floor and she stood there in nothing more than a slip and some wool stockings. Louise trembled as their eyes met. Then he was inside her, plunging deeply, his body pinning her to the wall.
She was wet, positively drenched, and so fucking warm. He dove into her mercilessly and she screamed in gratitude. She called his name over and over, rolling her hips to meet him every time he slammed into her.
When they were done, he gave her food and water. He carried her to her room and wiped the blood and sex from her body. He helped her into her nightgown and made sure the fire and thick bedding would keep her warm throughout the night. He watched her drift off to sleep before he left her alone.
There were still a few hours till daylight. He used the time to hunt and feed. Best he refrained from taking Louise on these jaunts for a while. She should see only his nurturing side. Her condition would inevitably precipitate a maternal instinct, that blinding drive to hold her offspring above all else in this world. It was the way of things. But it would not serve him to be replaced, not even by the sweet morsel of her womb. He salivated at the thought.
"I don't see how I'm getting any sleep tonight," Jimmy remarked, lowering himself onto one of the beds in the room.
Buck stood by the window. It had been dark for a few hours, but it wasn't that late. There was still plenty of movement on the street below. He turned to face the other men. "I have an idea," he told his friend.
"This is ridiculous," Jimmy said, staring up at the gaudy-looking building before them.
Buck just shrugged. He'd dragged Jimmy here, making up some lame excuse to keep Colter and Teaspoon from following them. "Just think of it as preparing for any situation. Think of Lou," he said when his friend still seemed unconvinced.
They approached the doors to the large stone building. It wasn't like the houses of worship they were used to in the west. This was a Catholic church and it rose imposingly above all the other buildings around it, flaunting its embellishments.
Buck reached the entrance first and pulled on the heavy wooden door. "It's open," he told Jimmy when he found no resistance.
Inside, the church was dimly lit with candles lining the walls and surrounding the altar. By Sweetwater standards, this church was massive. There were rows of shiny wood pews and every window depicted a bible story in colorful stained glass. Being too late for services, there were only a few stray parishioners praying silently. In the row closest to the altar they saw a man in priest's robes. Unlike the others, he wasn't kneeling but seemed to sit in quiet contemplation. He had white hair and a salt and pepper beard. His face was deeply lined with wrinkles.
"Father?" Jimmy inquired. The man held his finger to his lips, indicating for Jimmy to be quiet. Speaking in a whisper, he continued, "I'm sorry father but my friend and I need to speak to you, now." The old priest looked irritated at first but, upon seeing the desperation in the young man's eyes, he softened.
"Come with me then." He led them through a door on the left side of the altar and into a small office. Unlike the rest of the church, this room was sparsely furnished and modest. There was a simple desk, bookshelves that overflowed with religious texts, and a few uncomfortable-looking chairs. A small fire flickered in the fireplace and the father threw a couple more logs on before asking them to sit.
"Tell me, what is the urgent matter that brings you to my church tonight?"
"Well, um…" Jimmy stumbled over his words.
Buck interjected. "Your faith. That is, I mean, your belief in God and uh…"
"The devil," Jimmy finished for him. "Demons, evil, that kind of thing." Jimmy stood there, dumbly nodding as if they had just explained it all very clearly.
"What if people were to encounter one, now, here, for instance?"
The old man looked back and forth at the two strange men. They appeared sober enough. "Well many people believe that the devil is more of a metaphor, for the things in life that can tempt us and lead us away from God."
"What if," Buck proposed, "he's not a metaphor?"
"Son, why don't you just say what you mean, plainly now."
Buck released a long sigh, suddenly very aware of how Miss Kelly must have felt when she tried to tell them this same thing. He locked eyes with Jimmy, who gave him a look as if to say, "your idea, remember?"
"It's about our friend," he began. Buck laid out the whole story, as plainly as he could. He started by explaining how Louise, a girl, had disguised herself and become an Express rider so she could have a decent job, and how they'd accepted her. He told the priest about the day her horse came back without her, how they'd searched and eventually given up. The letter to Teaspoon had come out of the blue and they left for Boston as soon as possible. And then they met with Miss Kelly. He relayed her story, even showing him the journal page. "We know how it sounds. We thought the same thing when she explained it to us, but, well…"
"We can't fail her again," Jimmy explained. "If there's a chance this thing is real, we need to be prepared."
The father's expression was serious as he studied the torn paper and searched the two solemn faces for any sign of deception. He found none. After a few moments of silence, he rose from his chair and started to search through his many books.
"Before Eve, God created Lilith. But when she refused Adam she was cast out of Eden. She bred with the fallen angels and bore beings with the knowledge of heaven and earth and with a thirst for human blood. They hunted at night," he summarized the passage for Jimmy and Buck before placing the open book on the table. It was written in some language that neither of them recognized. "The Bible refers to teraphim, disgraceful things, perhaps the spawn of Lilith and the Nephilim. If a vampire existed, I suspect it would be just another demon of some kind."
The father poured himself a glass of whiskey and gestured for the others to help themselves. How was it that he was sitting in his church, late at night, with two total strangers, discussing such unholy creations? He had seen some unexplainable things in his time with the church. People even still requested exorcisms from time to time. But most church leaders had abandoned the idea that demons walked among them on earth. Still, he knew there were sects. In any case, it would be his duty to investigate their claim.
Realizing the old man seemed lost in thought, forgetting the two were there, Jimmy asked, "how do we kill it?"
"I expect Miss Kelly gave you your answer," he replied, not looking up. "I can get you holy water, borrow some items from the church, maybe even help with that silver."
"You believe us?" Buck questioned him.
"Not sure but, as you said, best to be prepared. Come back in the morning before you go to get Louise. I'll be waiting. Father Bohannon by the way," he extended his hand and Jimmy shook it.
When Jimmy and Buck left the church, the streets were much quieter. Only a few stragglers meandered through the night.
"Well, we convinced him to help at least. So tell me, Buck, you truly buy into any of that stuff?"
"Kiowa believe in spirits that can help or harm a person." He shrugged. "I guess demons aren't that different. Until I see for myself, I think it's best to keep an open mind."
Jimmy nodded. For Lou's sake, he would entertain any notion, no matter how ludicrous it seemed.
Thick grey clouds rolled in with the morning, trapping the sunlight behind them. The bleak skies seemed to signal another storm was imminent and Cara wondered why the elements were colluding against her. She had hoped for more favorable conditions, sunnier ones. But such were her circumstances that she wasn't surprised when life handed her the contrary.
By the time she left the boarding house to meet the others, the sun still had not shown itself. When she arrived at the hotel restaurant, the first small flakes began to fall. She was lucky to have a thick cloak and warm, quality boots to wear in this weather, all because of the extra money she made working for the Graysons. It was strange that he would be so generous and also so cruel. I doubt he will extend that generosity, if he realizes what I've been up to, Cara thought to herself. Taking a seat in the lobby, she clasped her hands in her lap while she waited to keep them from shaking. She had been alone in that house many times. Yet, even when she'd been snooping through his study, she had never felt so afraid. This morning her stomach had been in knots and she'd only had a cup of tea for her breakfast. Now, she felt queasy and weak from not eating.
"Are you alright?" It was the woman, Miss Dunne, Rachel.
Cara exhaled, giving the kind woman a small smile and shake of her head. "I could use something to eat before we head out."
Rachel smiled warmly back at her and offered her hand. "Come with me. The breakfast here ain't half bad," she went on, leading the young woman into the hotel restaurant where she saw the others were just finishing up their meals.
Four sets of eyes turned to her and she suddenly felt her stomach tighten again. The Marshal stood when he saw her and pulled out a chair, which she accepted with a quiet thank you.
"Miss Kelly needs something to eat before we head out," Rachel told them, signaling the waiter. She ordered tea and toast. "Are you sure you don't want something more substantial?" Rachel asked her.
"To be honest, I'm a bit nervous."
"Well, don't let these boys -"
"They aren't the ones making me nervous." She almost laughed, as if these silly men were the cause of her trepidation. "You all think I'm a fool, or an idiot, or just plain out of my mind. The truth is the second we confront this thing, all our lives are in danger." She looked at each of them in turn. "I just hope you can believe it before it's too late."
"I believe you." Jimmy leaned forward and met her gaze. She looked skeptical. "I'm open to the possibility, alright. Me and Buck, we talked to someone about…" he gestured with his hands.
"Vampires,' Buck finished for him. "Or demons or evil things, whatever you want to call it. We saw a priest and he said he'd help us."
Before he could elaborate, the waiter returned with Cara's simple breakfast. The smell of warm bread and butter stirred her appetite and she spread a thick layer of jam onto each slice before munching on the crusty toast. She chewed, forehead crinkled, while Buck and Jimmy gave everyone the rundown of last night's encounter in the church.
"I never went to the church. I thought about it. I thought they might tell him, my employer, I mean." Care sipped her tea before going on. "I was scared. I'm still scared."
"All you have to do is show us the house, Cara. You don't have to go in with us," Jimmy tried to assure her.
"No. I should be there with Louise. She doesn't know you. She won't trust you." Jimmy visibly bristled at her words but she did not apologize.
"Cara, why did you stick your neck out for Louise? What is she to you?" Teaspoon asked.
"She was kind to me, and it's rare for someone like her to be kind to someone like me. I'm the help. But she never treated me like that. I mean, I did the work but she wanted to be more than my employer. She tried to be my friend. Now I realize it was because she must have been incredibly lonely. And I watched her struggle. Struggle to please him. To understand who she was with no memories of anything. He has a sinister plan for her and her child."
"What?" The color drained from Jimmy's face. He felt bile rise in the back of his throat. "What child?"
"She's with child. I told…" Cara looked at Rachel and noted her worried expression.
"How far along?" he choked out.
The relationship between Louise and this man suddenly became clearer. "Um, about a month now, I suppose."
Jimmy didn't know if he should feel relief or devastation. It would have been a stretch for the child to be his anyway. They had only been together that one night at the end of March. They were midway through January now, and he had been careful. "It's Graysons."
"No," Cara told him. "There was someone else."
"How could you not say something?" Jimmy reproached her.
"I should have, I know," Rachel admitted. "I didn't know how. You'd already suffered through enough misery." She tried to place a comforting hand on his broad shoulder but he shrugged her off.
"We're here," he said, picking up his pace to walk ahead.
Rachel looked up at the grey stone church. The steeple stretched into the sky, little flakes of snow swirling around the narrow tower. The stained glass windows were dull, having no light source to illuminate them. All together it painted an ominous vision. She said a little prayer before following the others inside.
Father Bohannon introduced them to Mister Tomasi. Tomasi wasn't a priest, but a type of consultant. He was versed in things considered too unorthodox to be studied and practiced by regular parish priests. Most likely the church hoped to keep a discernible distance between their organization and anything too outlandish and far from the tenets they espoused.
The group gathered in a room around a large table where Tomasi versed them on the vampiric lore found in ancient theology.
"Vampires," he began, "are unlike other demonic forces. They can exert control over one's thoughts and actions but they cannot possess the body. They do not desire souls, only blood. Their pleasures are more earthly. Where demons reside in hell and escape to earth to do their evil, vampires share this world with us. It is their home as much as it is ours. As a rule, they tend not to draw attention to themselves. However, they can become hubristic, therefore risking exposure." He pointed to the items around the table. "Silver is known to hurt them. It can burn through their skin and weaken them. It can give us an advantage, but it won't kill him. Silver in the form of blessed items is especially effective. Blessed bullets even." He picked up a velvet pouch and lifted it. Dozens of silver bullets spilled out onto the table. "These," he gestured to a pile of sharp-pointed sticks. "can kill him, but only if driven straight through the heart. Tricky to get that close without dying. Beheading works as well. But the most powerful weapon against a vampire is the sun itself. Our best chance would be to draw him out, weaken him, and force him into the light."
The rest of them remained silent as they pondered their nonsensical situation. Yet, each had to admit having the terms laid out so plainly and with such authority had them all questioning the existence of monsters.
"Maybe we should wait for a sunnier day," Colter said, cutting through the silence.
"We're not leaving her with him another night," Jimmy stated forcefully. "I won't."
"I have a place we can bring her. Fortified. Safe." Tomasi told them. "We can protect her there. And he will come for her. That will be the crux of our plan."
Louise was trying to dress when she heard the doorbell. She ignored it, knowing eventually Cara would just let herself in. After several unsuccessful attempts to squeeze her tender breasts into a corset, she gave up, flinging the restricting garment onto the bed and opting to wear a silk chemise instead. What had Alex done to leave her breasts so sore? She pulled on a simple forest green dress and clasped a black leather belt around her waist to give it shape. She put on her house shoes and pushed her sleep-mussed hair behind her ears. The whole process of dressing exhausted her. She sat on the edge of her bed and fell back into the mess of umade blankets. I'll just wait for Cara here, she thought, before drifting off.
Buck stared at the affluent home before them. He'd expected something drearier, more telling of the malevolence that lived inside. Instead, he found himself gawking at the tasteful British architecture. It signaled wealth and refinement. For this neighborhood, it was a perfectly unassuming property for a young couple.
"I'm late. I should have had the fires going by now," Cara commented as they all took in the building before them. "Wait here," she told them before crossing the street. She twisted the turnkey to sound the bell and waited until the count of 120 to unlock the door herself. In the entryway she removed her cloak and wet shoes, slipping her feet into the house slippers she wore when working. The downstairs was dark and cold. Though it was late morning, there was no sign that Louise had been out of her room.
She knew it was protocol to first light the downstairs fires and prepare the house before greeting the missus, but instead, she climbed the stairs to check on Louise. She found her dressed, but sprawled on her unmade bed, dozing. A half dozen different corsets and some other clothing were strewn about the room. As quietly as she could, she relit the fire in the hearth and began to collect the lace undergarments. After putting them away, she approached Louise where she lay sleeping. Softly, she called her name but the woman didn't stir. Covering her with a blanket, she left her to rest, closing the door behind her.
Cara made her way downstairs. She passed over the empty fireplaces and dark rooms and went straight to the porch. The others came over from across the street when they saw her.
"She's still sleeping."
"And Grayson?" Father Bohannon asked.
"He must be downstairs."
"Then we proceed as planned."
Cara went back inside with Rachel and Mr. Tomasi. Outside of Louise's room, Rachel kept watch on her door while Cara led their vampire expert into the study.
"This is where I found the journals," she whispered, opening the drawers in Grayson's desk. She pulled them out and organized them in stacks on the surface of the desk. Tomasi carefully placed them into a carpetbag.
He eyed the rest of the room. "What else did you find in here?"
"Just deeds in the other drawers. I checked the desk first and after that, well I tried to avoid this room after that."
Tomasi methodically searched the shelves and tables around the office. Many of the books and artifacts would have been a prize in any collection. This many would be a boon to any collector. A large tapestry covered one wall and behind it, he found a locked closet. He was debating whether he had time to try to pick the lock when Rachel came in to tell them she'd heard Louise moving in the other room.
Rachel saw the agitation plain as day on Cara's face. "It's fine," she assured the young woman. "Go distract her and we'll go downstairs and light the fires, start some tea. You wait a bit and then bring Louise down and introduce us just as we planned. Okay?"
Cara nodded and gave them both one last look to reassure herself. The three of them left the study and Cara stood by Louise's bedroom door while the other two tiptoed down the staircase. After a minute, she knocked on Louise's door and, without waiting for a response, opened it enough to look in.
Louise was sitting at her vanity, running a brush through her hair. She had dark circles under her eyes and it looked like she was forcing herself to be awake. She thanked Cara for cleaning up the room and asked if she could prepare some strong tea.
"It's on now," she answered. Stepping fully into the room, she closed the door behind her and began making the bed. "You have visitors. Mr. Grayson arranged for them. Dr. Tomasi and his assistant Nurse Dunne."
Louise frowned but didn't question her. Alexander was doing everything in his power to ensure she and her baby remained healthy. Still, she was irritated. "He didn't mention it to me."
"Would you like me to send them away?"
"No," she answered quickly. If it was what Alexander wanted, then she must oblige. Sighing, she leaned back in her chair. She was just so tired. Why couldn't he have arranged this for tomorrow or the next day?
Louise didn't realize that her brush had fallen from her hand until Cara bent over next to her to pick it up. She took the ivory-handled brush and began working the tangles out of her long flowing hair.
"Fatigue is common in the early stages. Perhaps you can bring that up with the doctor."
"Yes, of course," she agreed. "How long have they been waiting?"
"Not long. I just let them in, then came to wake you."
Louise lifted herself from the chair and did her best to appear awake and vibrant. Cara chattered as they proceeded downstairs, but Louise did not listen closely. She wondered why Alex had not informed her of this doctor and his visit. Was he trying to keep her on her toes?
Rachel bit down on the inside of her cheeks to keep from making a sound when Lou entered the room. She couldn't stop herself from staring though, blinking to hold back any errant tears. After all this time, after believing her dead, here she was. She was still slim, but somehow softer. The green dress she wore accented her small but shapely figure. Her hair fell behind her back in a long waving cascade. Her face showed forced congeniality and the dark circles under her eyes revealed tiredness that contradicted the welcoming smile.
"I apologize for keeping you waiting," she said after Cara introduced them. Her distinctly northern accent was jarring to Rachel.
"No apology necessary," Tomasi assured and gestured for her to take a seat beside him.
Rachel could only nod. She had tried to prepare herself for this meeting, but she knew she was barely holding it together. When Cara excused herself to fetch the tea, she quickly volunteered to help, leaving Mr. Tomasi alone with Louise.
"Are you alright?" Cara asked quietly while she went about pulling out teacups and loading a tray with sugar and cream. She poured the boiling water into a ceramic teapot and placed it in the middle of the large serving tray.
Rachel replied with a teary smile. "It's her, but it's not. He's changed her. It's been so long."
"We only have to focus on the plan and getting her out of this house," she whispered as she rummaged in the pantry for some biscuits to serve with the tea. Choosing the cup that would be for Louise, she pulled a packet of fine powder from her pocket and shook it into the mug.
"We're sure this won't hurt her child?"
"Tomasi promised that it's only natural herbs to bring about sleepiness. Whatever it is, it's safer than letting her stay here."
Once everything was together, the women composed themselves and brought the refreshments into the sitting room.
Tomasi was in the middle of questioning Louise about her early pregnancy symptoms. Besides the recent bout of fatigue and the soreness of her breasts, she had little to report. She was adamant that her conception date was December 4th, which put her at about six weeks. Her anticipated delivery would most likely occur around the third week of August. Louise had not thought much about the birth or even the changes that would take place in her body. She mostly worried about what would happen after the baby was born. She didn't voice these concerns to the man before her. Instead, she focused on giving short but satisfactory answers to the doctor's questions.
Cara poured the tea and handed the proper mug to Louise who placed it before her on the table to cool. While they talked, Tomasi watched her. Everything about the woman was practiced, a performance. She was well trained in that regard. However, she spoke too easily of intimate subjects for a lady. Most would feign some sort of offense before being cajoled into sharing such details, even with their doctor. But Louise spoke freely and without shame of conception and of the changes in her body. She did not blush or shrink from his plain talk. She was trying very hard, he realized, to please. Yet he was not the object of her striving.
Excusing herself to finish cleaning upstairs, Cara returned to the bedroom to pack Louise's things. She grabbed one of the large carpet bags from her luggage and began to fill it with the items she thought Louise would need once they were away. She selected several undergarments and warm stockings, one of her more modest linen nightgowns, and an extra dress. Next, she went to the vanity and took all the things Louise used regularly- her brush, hairpins, creams and soaps, and scented oils. Glancing once more around the room, she laid eyes on the desk. There were pencils and sketchbooks, loose pages strewn about the desk. She shuffled them all together and threw them on top of the other items before closing up the bag.
Finally finished, she opened the doors to the patio and stepped outside, allowing the cold air to clear her mind. Powdery snow fell all around her, sticking to everything it touched. A few inches had already accumulated since the early morning, piling up in the yard. One pile, in particular, caught her attention. It was just the right size for a grave. Cara caught herself on the railing as the world spun around her.
She raced down the stairs, her other objective completely forgotten. She reached the end of the staircase and tumbled into Rachel. Pushing the other woman aside, she ran to the kitchen. The snow stuck to the window and she didn't have a clear view of the yard.
"What's going on?" Tomasi questioned her.
"Outside," was the only thing she could think to say. She hurried to the backdoor and fumbled with the locks. When she had it, she flung the door open and ran out over the stone patio and over to the gardens. Here it was more obvious, a pronounced mound of dirt where there had been none before. "Oh God," she moaned.
Tomasi came to stand beside her. "Who is it?"
Two black carriages sat across the street from the brownstone. In one sat the group of men, Teaspoon, Colter, Buck, Jimmy, and Father Bohannon. The second remained empty, awaiting its precious cargo. Every so often, Jimmy moved as if to exit the carriage, and Buck or Teaspoon would put a hand on his arm and hold him back.
"Perhaps this would be a good time for a prayer," proposed the Father.
Jimmy just laughed. The months of looking, praying. Christ! Fucking begging. Now was the time for prayer? "I need some air." This time no one stopped him as he jumped from the carriage.
Buck followed his friend outside and found him staring at the house across the street. Not knowing what else to do, he joined him. Together, they stood in the falling snow, watching and waiting.
"I know what you're thinking," he said after a while. "If God were listening, we would have found her a long time ago."
"Actually Buck, I was thinking if God cared at all, she never would have gone missing." If God cared at all, Jimmy thought, she wouldn't have had a father like Boggs. She wouldn't have fallen into the hands of a man like Wicks. "Fuck God."
"You might not want to say such things before we take on a possible demon."
"Fuck the devil too. We're on this earth alone, Buck. No one comes to save us. That's why we're supposed to look out for each other. I was supposed to protect her. I promised."
"You promised Lou you'd protect her?"
"I promised myself, God, her. I dunno!" He threw his hands up. "Either way, I fucked it up."
Buck just turned back to the house. There were no words of comfort for his friend. Nothing would salve his wounds until he held Lou in his arms. He wondered if he stood out in the cold as punishment for failing to keep Lou safe.
The door across the street opened. Rachel ran out, using her coat to cover her head from the falling snow. When she saw Buck and Jimmy standing there, she waved for them to come on over.
The three of them piled into the house, wet boots and clothes dripping onto the hardwood floor and elegant rugs. In the parlor, Jimmy fell to his knees before the sofa where Lou lay fast asleep.