Demon Hunters

The black wolf nosed gently at the body laying torn and bloodied under the pale moon’s light.

Lifting his head, his ears perked as he looked sharply through the trees. Scenting the men he could not yet see, he listened to the faint rustling as they travelled through the dry autumn brush.

Quick decision made, he let his form shift, the large black wolf dissolving into a smoky mist before drifting upward, against the light breeze, to settle high in the nearest tree. It was a perfect vantage point to observe the new arrivals.

The five men that rode into the clearing seemed, at first glance at least, to be non-threatening, but caution had ensured his survival over the centuries.

The man in black was the obvious leader of the group. Lean and strong, he was economical of movement. Clearly human, but aware of the strange company he kept and unafraid. He felt strangely drawn to this dark leader, in a way he hadn’t felt for untold years.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he looked to the second member of the strange group. Tall and handsome, he rode a grey gelding. There was something about him, the musk of a demon, but faint. And a certain sexual energy, unmistakably incubus. Surprising himself, he found this one attractive as well.

The third man, also human, was dressed in buckskins, hat pulled low over his long brown curls. His piercing blue eyes scanned the trees, seeking. There was an aura about this one, a link, to the other side. An ethereal beauty. Again he felt the stirring of desire, amazed. Three such men, three such stirrings, after having not felt the like in at least as many decades.

The black man drew his eye as he jumped down off his horse, grabbing his saddlebags as he went. This one was unmistakable human as well, though the stench of magic was thick around him.

The last man slipped off his horse at the same time. The scent of the beast was strong, and it was no surprise to see him strip quickly out of his clothes and Shift into a grey wolf.

Human, demon and werewolf riding together. A strange combination to be sure and one worthy of further observation.

Chris Larabee stepped down off his horse, sparing little time to glance in the direction of the men riding with him. They all knew what they were here to do and after several months of riding together, each man went about his job without pause.

Forcing himself to look, he swallowed heavily. As often as he’d seen it, and as hardened as he liked to pretend his heart was, the sight of yet another innocent life cut so brutally short was a painful one.

The girl could not have been more than twelve years old. She’d been missing for several days already before her family thought to come to them for help. Bruised and broken, she lay in a crumpled heap, clothing torn and bloody.

“Vin?” Chris asked, breaking the silence.

After a moment of still, silent concentration, the tracker shook his head. “Spirit’s ain’t talkin’, Chris. Either she’s still too pained, or she’s already gone.”

“Buck?”

“You know it won’t do no good, Chris, I’m only half.” The gunslinger scowled slightly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Larabee only glared.

“All right,” Buck sighed, throwing his arms wide. “For what it’s worth, I don’t sense the work of any demon. And there wasn’t any sex, neither.”

“Josiah?” Chris turned to the wer.

The grey wolf lifted its head, Shifting back to human form. “It’s old, a few days at least. Too late to tell much. There was another wolf here, recently, with the scent of darkness, of Otherworld about it.”

“Was it responsible for this?” Larabee grated.

“Can’t tell for sure,” Josiah shrugged. “Could’ve been here before or after.”

Decision made, he drifted to the ground. The Southern gentleman materialised in an instant, speaking as he did so. “After, as a matter of fact.” He grinned, relishing his moment of surprise as the five men whirled at the sound of his voice, unperturbed at the pistols suddenly cocked in his direction.

The leader, Chris, was the first to lower his weapon. “The vampire from the saloon,” he murmured.

“You knew?” No one before had ever taken him for anything other than a scoundrel and a cardsharp. A con man, yes, certainly not to be trusted with a man’s hard-earned cash, but unquestionably human. He felt an intrigue, and a surprise that he hadn’t felt for longer than he cared to remember. This place, these people had distinct possibilities.

He focussed his attention back on the group in front of him. The man in black was speaking again, “Got no problem with you as long as you’re not hurting anyone.”

Yes, definite possibilities. “Then you won’t mind if I join you on this little hunt?”

“Why? What’s in it for you?” Intense green eyes turned sharply in his direction, questioning.

He did not falter, but met the sharp gaze with his own green stare. “Peace of mind. The local populace is becoming upset. They’re frightened.” He looked at each of the men in turn. “When terror and panic take hold otherwise sane and logical people need a scapegoat. I have no intention of quenching a mob’s thirst for vengeance.” He let that sink in, knowing that each of these men harboured a secret akin to his own. Enough to turn a mob in their direction should they be discovered.

“Why not just leave then?” That question came from the tall one; Buck was his name. His blue eyes and lazy grin, while not openly suggestive, still had a strong sexual pull. He could feel the spark between them, igniting into a smouldering desire.

How much of the truth to reveal? “I... well, surprisingly enough, I find myself liking this place and its anonymity. And what safer place for a... man... such as myself, than to live in a town protected from demons and other so-called creatures of evil? Who would think to look for one of my kind here?”

“Are you?” That quiet question came from the man in the buckskins, Vin they’d called him. His steady blue gaze was quiet and intense, like the man himself... bright and beautiful, only augmented by the glow of spirit energy burning around him.

“Am I what?” he smiled, letting it light his eyes as he turned toward the beautiful young man.

“A creature of evil?” The blue eyes never wavered from his own, challenging and unafraid.

“No more or less than any man.” He didn’t expect they would believe him easily, but he considered it to be the truth. He never fed off the unwilling, turning to livestock instead if it became absolutely necessary. Admittedly, that was a truly rare necessity. In all his years he’d never had much trouble finding a willing partner.

“What proof do we have that you’re not the one who killed this poor child?” That angry growl came from the one who reeked of magic, the black man.

Centuries of existence had taught him that calm was the best stance to take in the face of unjustified anger. “None but my word.” He turned again to include all of them, “And your own good judgement.”

He stood unmoving, meeting each man’s studied gaze as they looked him over carefully. Adopting a casual air, he tugged gently at dark brocade vest, smoothing its line. Then, with no comments forthcoming he brushed lightly at the dust on his burgundy coat sleeves, straightening his ruffled cuffs.

Finally the leader, Chris, drew in a deep breath and released it, extending his hand in introduction. “Chris Larabee.”

With a smile, the vampire accepted the handshake, holding the warm grip slightly longer than was strictly necessary. “Ezra Standish, at your service.”

Next to step up was the young beauty. “Tanner,” he nodded, offering his hand, “Vin.”

“Mr. Tanner,” Ezra acknowledged, shaking the young man’s hand. Holding the bright blue gaze, he let his thumb brush softly across the back of Vin’s hand. Just that hint of a caress, then he released it and turned to the next man.

Knowing laughter sparkled in the blue eyes, a warm grin hid under the moustache, as a chuckle escaped. “Buck Wilmington.”

Ezra gripped the large hand extended toward him. This close, the musk of incubus was almost overpowering to his heightened senses. He felt the curl of desire grow stronger. Letting the fire glow momentarily in his green eyes, he returned Buck’s wide grin and the warm squeeze of his fingers, letting a bit of his own Charm flow back over the other man. He saw an acknowledgement ignite a burning desire to match his own in Buck’s azure eyes. No longer actually shaking the hand he held, Ezra still could not bring himself to release the warm, rough fingers resting in his cool grip.

“Buck,” Larabee growled.

Neither man responded to the impatient tone.

“Buck!” Chris pulled him away from Ezra. Quickly, he got the rest of the introductions out of the way, pointing to each man in turn as he said, “Nathan Jackson and Josiah Sanchez.”

The vampire nodded to each man as Larabee pointed in his direction. “Mr. Jackson. Mr. Sanchez.”

The Mage stood back warily, not moving any closer or extending his hand, almost visibly gathering his power around himself, ready to protect his comrades against any threat.

Josiah Sanchez stood tall and unselfconscious of his nakedness. And indeed, smoothly muscled and powerfully built, the man had no reason to be at all embarrassed. Ezra could see the slight flare of his nostrils as he scented the breeze, testing the vampire’s presence against the wolf-scent he’d found earlier.

He turned his gaze back to the man in black as Larabee interrupted again. “What can you tell us about the girl?”

The vampire sighed softly, saddened anew at the reminder of the lost innocent they’d all found here, at the waste of such a young and precious life. “Very little I’m afraid. I only came upon the body myself moments before your arrival. Mr. Wilmington is correct. I sense no demonic presence in the vicinity.” He turned to wink at Buck, “Save of course, his own.”

Buck grinned and shuffled his feet, but Ezra continued speaking, “I can testify though, that there is a decided lack of blood in the area, considering the severe damage to the body. I believe you’ll find she’s missing several of her major organs.”

Nathan had already moved in closer to the body, pulling aside the torn rags that were her clothing to examine the wounds. “He’s tellin’ the truth,” he spoke in Chris’ direction, “looks like her heart ‘n’ liver ‘n’ kidneys at least are gone, probably more, but it’s hard to tell for sure with all this damage.”

“You needn’t sound so surprised, Mr. Jackson,” Ezra drawled softly. “I have been utterly honest with you gentlemen.” He grinned idly in Buck’s direction.

Buck returned the wide grin. “He’s right, Nathan. He didn’t have to reveal himself to us when he did. Coulda stayed hid.”

“Or attacked,” Chris added gruffly.

“I have no wish to be at cross-purposes with you gentleman. Only to help. And perhaps,” he sighed, shifting his eyes away through the dark trees, “perhaps to find some comrades with whom to share a common purpose.” Only the smallest measure of the bone-deep weariness, and soul-shattering loneliness of the vampire’s long solitary existence crept into the quiet words. How long had it been since he’d had anyone in his life he could honestly call a friend?

“Daybreak soon.” Vin’s quiet voice broke through Ezra’s melancholy thoughts. “You’d best be on your way.”

Ezra turned to meet the quiet young man’s eyes, smiling at the unexpected gesture that almost bespoke concern for his well-being. “My thanks for the warning Mr. Tanner.” He let out a sharp whistle, and a chestnut gelding came cantering through the trees toward him. He chuckled slightly at the dumbfounded expressions around him. His new acquaintances were obviously not expecting that a vampire would ride. With a single smooth motion, he was settled into the saddle.

Grinning again in Vin’s direction he added, “I will not burst into flame and perish at the first touch of the sun. Though admittedly, I have extended myself this evening without replenishing my reserves, and the sun’s arrival will do me some harm if I do not get out of its direct path.”

Ezra nodded, extending the first two fingers of his right hand to tip his hat slightly in Vin’s direction, before turning to address them all. “Gentlemen, you shall find me in the municipality’s lone tavern.” He nodded to Chris. “When you are through here.” Grinning at Buck he added in a soft drawl, “If you wish to... talk.”

Swinging the gelding around in the direction of Four Corners, he paused a moment, “Oh, and Mr. Larabee?” he added, “You might want to check the vicinity for signs of a recent, large campfire.”

“Any particular reason?” Chris called as the vampire urged his horse into a trot.

“Just a thought,” the vampire answered, speaking over his shoulder.

“Something you want to share?” the man in black shouted.

“In good time. If you find one.” With that, he was gone. The five men stood alone in the clearing.

“Well, what d’ya make of that?” Buck grinned.

Nathan scowled as he scanned the perimeter of the clearing once more, “You don’t actually believe him, do you?”

Chris stared a moment, eyes following the direction the vampire had ridden off in. “I’m gonna do just like he said. I’m gonna trust my own judgement. Unless or until he proves to me otherwise, I’m gonna give him the benefit of the doubt.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, hoping the squeeze of the rough, tight denim would wipe the tingling feel of Standish’s smooth fingers resting in his warm grip. Unfortunately, it didn’t help. Nor could it erase the image of brightly amused green eyes smiling into his own.

“Well I don’t trust him.” Nathan’s vehement tone interrupted Chris’s reverie.

“Why not?” Vin’s quiet question voiced his leader’s very thoughts. “What did he ever do to you?”

“Vampires are just evil. They’re unnatural creatures of the night. They’re the Undead! They should all be destroyed.” With each statement, Nathan’s tone was getting louder and increasingly angry. Crackling sparks of light were beginning to manifest around the Mage’s clenching fingers.

“Nathan? Have you met this Standish before?” Chris scowled at the group’s healer.

“No.” The anger was quieter now, sullen, but still unmistakeably there. The energy diffused as Nathan regained more control.

Josiah stepped closer, placing a large hand on the healer’s back. “He would not be the first creature of the night among us, brother.”

Nathan nodded, brushing the big man’s hand where it slid up to rest on his shoulder, realizing what he’d said, how it must’ve sounded to these men, his friends.

Josiah drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh, “I have to believe that anything that exists in this world is ‘natural’, that every living thing, or un-living,” he added as Nathan was about to interrupt, “has its place in the natural order of things.”

“Have you ever met a vampire? Before tonight?” Nathan asked softly. “I have.”

The four other men fell silent, waiting for Nathan to tell his story. He obviously needed to voice it, to explain his fear, his anger. He dropped his head with a sigh, studying the scuff of his boots in the dirt.

“They had a Chinese name for it, but it was a vampire... hiding, doing its destructive work among the railroad crews.” Nathan’s deep brown eyes drifted closed, his voice thickening as he drifted back into the dark memories. “It didn’t just take flesh and blood. It consumed souls.” He swallowed heavily, trying to ease the tightness in his throat. “It took three Mages and more than twenty men to finally destroy it but not before it consumed over three dozen victims, including my two baby sisters.”

“Nathan, I’m real sorry ‘bout yer loss,” Vin moved closer to the healer, “but ya can’t condemn all vampires for the actions of one. Any more’n you’d hunt down all demons, or werewolves ... or Mages,” he added softly, “just ‘cuz the first one ya met turned out ta be evil.”

“He deserves the chance to at least earn our respect, brother.” Josiah squeezed the hand still resting on Nathan’s shoulder.

“After all,” Buck put in, “he’s been in town for two days ‘n’ nights now, and no one’s died or disappeared or turned vamp yet.”

Nathan turned his dark eyes to meet Buck’s, holding the blue gaze with his vehemence. “Except for this little girl right here,” he growled. “Whose body we found him next to,” he pointed sharply. “In a condition that he accurately described.” He turned to Chris, “How much d’you wanna bet we find the ashes of a large bonfire around here somewhere too? Just like he said?”

Chris hesitated only a moment before muttering, “Vin, Josiah.”

The tracker nodded as the werewolf again Shifted form. “We’re on it.” He turned to the north as the big wolf loped off in the opposite direction.

“Nathan, about the body...” Chris began, letting his question trail off.

The healer sighed softly. “Some of the tearing and damage seems to have come from scavenging animals, but the initial wounds are smoother, weren’t made with teeth or claws. She was cut open.”

The three men paused, absorbing the implications of that. Supernatural creatures rarely used weapons.

“It also looks like whoever killed her was interrupted before they finished whatever it is they were tryin’ to do.” Nathan scowled as he continued to study the remains.

“Chris,” Buck interrupted, “think I oughta go back to town and bring out the wagon with a coffin. Won’t do for her family or anyone else to see her like this.”

Chris sighed, studying Buck’s expression, then turning to glance in the direction of Four Corners. The very direction that Standish had ridden. Buck was right. Now that they’d finally found her, they needed the coffin.

“Chris?” Buck nudged Larabee lightly, interrupting his brooding thoughts.

“Wha-” Chris blinked, glaring at the demon who was his oldest friend. “All right. Yeah. Go and get it.”

Buck nodded with a wide grin, already jumping up into the big grey gelding’s saddle.

“Straight there and straight back, Buck,” Chris called as the gunslinger rode out. “No detours and no distractions! Buck!” But horse and rider were already out of earshot.

“You don’t think he’s goin’ after that vampire, do ya?” Nathan asked, looking from Chris to the trail that Buck had taken.

“I know he is,” Larabee ground out. He had a sour feeling in his stomach, and he could feel the muscle clenching in his jaw. What he couldn’t be sure about was whether it was concern for Buck or his own interest in the enigmatic Southerner. The vampire was handsome to be sure, and charismatic. His cool touch had sent a spark through Chris’ body, a spark of desire, of recognition almost. It was as though that slight clasp of his fingers had ignited a need in Chris, a need to belong, a need for home and family. But was it his need, or the vampire’s? And did he want to do anything about it?

“Chris?” The Mage’s voice interrupted Larabee’s train of thought.

“Yeah Nathan?” Chris crouched down on a level with the healer as Nathan bent over the body.

“Near as I can tell, these initial wounds were made with a big Bowie knife, a long sharp blade.” He carved a quick symbol in the air, murmuring a few short words, and a small but very bright ball of light hovered at Chris’ left knee. “The light will stay close to you if you wanna search the immediate area for a weapon or footprints.”

“Right. You finish up here. I’m on it.” Chris stood and moved off, pacing a slow, ever widening circle around the clearing, keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him.

Ezra grinned, slowing his mount’s pace to a casual walk as he heard the thundering hoof beats coming up fast behind him. The faint musk of demon was growing stronger and he did not need to look to know it was Buck’s grey gelding.

Buck reined his horse in alongside Ezra’s mount, matching his slower gait.

After several minutes of silence broken only by the clopping of hooves on the trail, the chirping crickets and the other sweet sounds of the night, Ezra spoke. “Mr. Wilmington,” he nodded, glancing sideways at the demon, “is there something I can help you with?”

Buck’s sudden uncertainty was plain to read on his face. He swallowed, his gaze darting everywhere except to meet the gambler’s own.

The vampire grinned again. This man certainly wouldn’t be the first to struggle with the feelings that Ezra knew he’d stirred in him. And he seemed the sort to appreciate a little humour to lighten the mood. “I don’t bite, Mr. Wilmington.” At Buck’s quick, wide-eyed glance Ezra leaned closer to add in a conspiratorial whisper, “At least, not without permission.”

The gunslinger grinned at the sensual promise in Ezra’s whispered drawl. “I’m just heading back for the wagon and coffin,” he mumbled.

Ezra allowed him the excuse, waiting.

Buck sighed, “Thought we might as well ride together.”

The gambler nodded. “What is it you wanted to ask me, Buck?” He grinned wide, knowingly, fire glittering in his eyes, “Or do you intend to make an offer?”

Blue eyes stared into green, drawn into the haze of desire burning there.

Buck shook his head slightly, clearing the fog. “You said the sun won’t kill ya?”

The vampire chuckled at the abrupt change of subject, but accepted it. He never pushed. His vessels must come to him freely, of their own accord. “That is correct.” He answered his companion’s question. “When I am well fed and rested, it is a mere annoyance. Uncomfortable, but no more damaging than what to you would be a bad sunburn.”

“But tonight?” Buck persisted. “You said you were depleted?”

Ezra nodded. “Tonight I have changed my form several times. That is costly to my energy levels. And I have not yet fed, not replenished my reserves.”

“So if you got caught in the sunrise this morning?”

Ezra glanced at the demon, trying to read his eyes. “It would be more damaging. Severe burns and blistering. Uncomfortable but not deadly.” Was that relief he read in the gunslinger’s eyes? “I would heal,” he drawled with a grin. He had an idea about where Buck might be trying to lead this roundabout conversation. Relaxing into the saddle, he waited for the next question.

“How fast?” Buck asked.

“That would depend,” he met the curious blue eyes, “feeding speeds the healing.”

“You feed on blood?”

Ezra nodded. “And emotion.” He watched the demon carefully, gauging his reaction to this explanation. “Blood carries the most life force, but it’s not the only bodily fluid that does.” He glanced pointedly at Buck’s groin.

The gunslinger flushed, feeling his cock respond to the vampire’s words as much as the feel of his eyes as they lingered on his crotch. He tore his mind back to what Ezra had said. “Emotions?”

The gambler nodded. “Most vampires feed off emotional energy as well as the physical. Fear is powerful, and easier to induce, but the energy you reap doesn’t last long. I personally find it leaves a bitter taste. Vampires who become addicted to its flavour must feed often, and mercilessly. They need to be destroyed quickly, as they give us all a bad name.” He frowned, lost in thought a moment, before turning his attention back to the gunslinger.

Buck was nodding, absorbed in Ezra’s explanation.

The gambler continued softly, watching Buck’s reaction carefully. “Passion, on the other hand, and lust, is powerful, but more difficult to inspire. The energy is longer lasting, and often vessels are more than willing to repeat the experience since it is much more enjoyable for both parties.” Ezra grinned lasciviously. Then the smile faded as loneliness shadowed his eyes. “Love, true honest love, is the sweetest of all, the longest lasting, and the most difficult to find.” He sighed, blinking rapidly.

Buck swallowed heavily, reading the vampire’s loneliness and feeling his chest squeeze with its echo. “So you feed often then?”

Ezra shook off the melancholy, returning his attention to the conversation at hand. “As often as the opportunity presents itself,” he grinned, “the more often I feed, the less actual fluid I need to take. The emotional feeding can sustain me.” He looked up at Buck, watching through heavy-lidded green eyes as the bigger man unconsciously licked his lips. “My vessels are often more eager even than I to repeat the experience.” He winked, knowing it was boastful, even though it was the truth.

“Vessels?”

“Those who willingly share their life force with me.” Ezra chuckled. “I much prefer it to the word ‘victim’.”

Buck nodded thoughtfully. “And your feeding doesn’t turn them into vamps too?”

“No. Only the sharing of my blood will do that.” Ezra grinned. “Of course, there are those creatures, such as werewolves and demons, who are immune to the Change.”

Buck looked away from Ezra, fixing his eyes on the trail as he asked quietly, “Will you need to feed again soon?”

Ezra smiled, “I will be able to survive until I’ve reached my rooms, I’m sure.”

“You have a... vessel... waiting?”

“Not this evening. No.”

Buck reined his gelding to a halt.

When he noticed that his companion was no longer riding alongside him, the gambler turned, bringing his horse around to a halt beside the grey gelding, leaving the two men sitting face to face. He looked into the demon’s confused blue eyes, watching as the indecision resolved itself into a sort of steely determination.

“Would you...” Buck paused, “I’d like to....” He met the green eyes staring so intently at him. “I don’t know how to....”

Ezra’s eyes lit up. “You wish to offer me your blood? To share your life force?”

Buck blew out the breath he’d been holding in a gust of sharp relief. “Yes,” he gasped out.

The vampire reached out toward Buck, brushing the backs of his fingers down the gunslinger’s roughly stubbled cheek. “You are sure?”

Buck grinned, catching the gambler’s smooth fingers in his own calloused grip. “Very.”

Ezra reached across with his free hand, gripping Buck’s hand, peeling his grip away from Ezra’s fingers. Still holding tight to Buck’s wrist, Ezra leaned in closer for a kiss. The gunslinger turned his head to the side, baring his neck, but Ezra smiled, taking Buck’s chin in his hand to pull his face back around. “I’d like a kiss,” he made it a question, offering the gunslinger a chance to refuse.

Buck nodded his acquiescence, leaning in.

Ezra pressed his lips against the demon’s, a soft, tentative caress at first, letting the gunslinger grow accustomed to the cool touch. Opening his lips slightly, he ran his tongue along the length of Buck’s lips, savouring the musky flavour of incubus, almost giggling at the tickling brush of Buck’s moustache against his lips.

Nibbling lightly at the full lower lip, Ezra teased, encouraging Buck to open his lips to the gambler’s questing tongue. He closed his eyes, drowning in the waves of desire flowing over him, its sweet tang adding to the demon’s musk, filling his senses.

He pulled back to look into Buck’s drowsy eyes, watching the slow, sensuous smile grow across the gunslinger’s lips. “You’re still sure?” he asked softly.

Buck grinned. “Oh yeah.”

The vampire pulled Buck’s hand up to his face. He licked softly at the exposed wrist, feeling the warm pulse against his tongue. He inhaled deeply. The sweet copper smell of the blood so close, throbbing just beneath the skin’s surface, inflamed his senses. He could feel his canines elongating, extending, as the desire to feed grew stronger.

Ezra let his tongue run across Buck’s wrist again and on up the full length of his thumb. With a sharp rasp of his teeth, he nicked Buck’s thumb. As the first bright red drop of blood appeared, Ezra sucked the whole digit into his mouth, laving it gently with his tongue.

Buck gasped at the sharp pain, but it was soon forgotten in the waves of pleasure flowing over him. His fingers curled under the vampire’s chin as his thumb was suckled, gently and tenderly.

Ezra groaned softly around Buck’s thumb as the ripples of energy, the swells of pleasure cascaded over him. He reached over with his free hand, pressing his fingers against the growing bulge in the demon’s trousers at the same time as he opened his Charm completely, sharing fully the rapture he was feeling.

Buck gasped, throwing back his head, overwhelmed in ecstasy.

The vampire released his hold. Letting the gunslinger’s thumb slip gently from his lips, Ezra licked it once more, checking to be sure the bleeding had stopped. No wound existed, only a tiny already healed cut marked the digit. He let Buck’s hand drop, waiting patiently for the demon to open his eyes.

Buck drew in a deep, shuddering breath, opening his eyes to stare in wonder at the gambler.

“Thank you, Buck,” Ezra smiled.

Buck swallowed heavily. “Is it...” he rasped, clearing his throat and trying again, “is it always like that?”

The vampire chuckled. “It is different with every vessel, as it is with each different act. Some are more pleasurable than others, but I have never considered any at all unpleasant.”

Buck only nodded, still wide-eyed and wondering.

Ezra recognised the reactions of a first time vessel. “Shall we continue back to town, Buck? I may be safe from the sun thanks to you, but I still have no wish to be caught out in it.” He grinned. “And it has been a very long evening, for both of us.”

Buck turned to look at the vampire.

“Your friends are still waiting for the wagon and coffin.” Ezra gently reminded.

“Oh,” Buck mumbled, “yeah.”

The remainder of the ride back to town was short and silent.

The saloon doors swung shut behind Ezra just as the first rays of the sun were breaking across the horizon. With a soft sigh, he rolled his shoulders against the fatigue of the long night he’d just spent.

He grinned softly, licking his lips for the last faint trace of the incubus’ blood. He was well fed at least, if not yet well rested.

Several pairs of pleading eyes followed Ezra’s movements as he walked across to the stairs. Men and women both, who had at least once felt the rapture of his attention. Who watched and waited with flushed cheeks, eyes shining bright, hoping, praying to see the vampire’s deep green eyes turn in their direction once more with an invitation. They were to be disappointed this morning.

Ezra did not hesitate, but merely climbed the stairs, slowly making his way toward his room. He yawned, fatigue borne of being awake for more than 24 hours taking hold. Slipping quietly into his room, he closed the door behind himself, locking it securely. Slipping the dark coat from his shoulders, he brushed lightly at the dust covering it, then hung it neatly in the closet.

With a sigh, he dropped into the chair beside his dressing table, tugging at the ribbon tie around his throat. Idly, he examined the face staring back at him from the small mirror in front of him. Auburn highlights glinted in his warm brown hair and his green eyes sparkled in the dim light as the vigour of having fed well and recently raced through his veins. The pale skin tone that he’d had since he was a babe was slightly flushed with new life.

What do others see when they look at me, he wondered. Beyond the refined clothing and manners, beyond the bright eyes and pale skin? His thoughts drifted to the men he had met earlier.

Chris Larabee. Enigmatic. The man seemed so forbidding and dark, intent in his purpose of destroying all demons, if his reputation was to be believed; but at the same time he was riding with, was friends with, a demon, a wer, a Mage and a Spirit Talker. Ezra had been watching the men carefully these last few days he’d been in town. Staying wary and guarded was second nature to the vampire. Trust did not come easily when your very existence could be threatened by a misplaced confidence.

So he’d watched them all. Larabee was a natural leader. Ezra had no doubt it was real friendship, true camaraderie that inspired the loyalty of the men he worked with. He also did not doubt that this group of ‘Demon Hunters’ did not hunt all creatures, but only those who became dark and destructive, threatening the peace of this small town and its inhabitants, of this place they had claimed as their home. Despite what their reputations and the Clarion’s scathing doubting editorials might lead the people to believe.

Ezra sighed, his chest squeezing, his throat tight with longing. To be a part of a group of friends again, a family? It had been so long he could barely imagine how that might feel.

Then too there was his attraction to Chris. Ezra felt the same stirring in his belly that he’d had earlier, when he’d clasped Larabee’s hand in his tight grip. What did he want from Chris? Was it just friendship? Would looking into those pale green eyes to see the same respect and camaraderie that he shared with the others be enough? Or did Ezra want, need something more?

Because there was also Vin.

Ezra sighed, shifting in his seat. The young Spirit Talker seemed quiet most of the time, almost withdrawn but his link to the Otherworld shone like the brightest beacon to Ezra’s eyes, surrounding him with light and life. His subdued intensity was so unlike the gambler’s own flamboyance, but the spark between them had been immediate when they’d touched. The tracker had seemed unsure though, hesitant about the connection. What did he see when he looked at Ezra?

Vin talked to Spirits, conversed with Souls. What did the vampire look like to him? Was he an empty shell to Vin? A creature with no inner light?

Ezra looked deeply into the troubled green eyes of his reflection, trying to see himself as the Spirit Talker might see him. Trying to sort out in his own mind what he wanted from Vin, and from Chris.

And Buck?

The vampire grinned. Buck was... well, Buck. Big and friendly, he seemed willing already to allow Ezra into their little group. That alone stirred the gambler’s feelings. But the gunslinger was incubus. Sexual attraction with Buck was a given and while the feeding had been wondrous, it was still only a feeding. No more or less precious to him than any other vessel.

What did Buck see in him so quickly that the others did not? Was it only the attraction, the heat that flared between them? Ezra could not deny it existed. He could still feel the curl of that desire as Buck’s blood pulsed through his veins.

Long empty years had taught the vampire that sexual attraction and feeding did not constitute a relationship; did not equal love.

Ezra sighed again, standing quickly to remove the rest of his clothing, folding it neatly and laying it on the chair next to his bed. He slipped between the cool sheets and let his eyes drift closed, hoping exhaustion would calm his whirling thoughts and confused feelings. He did not know where his association with these men might lead him, but he was, for the first time in a long time, eager for the arrival of a new day.

JD Dunne hung halfway out of the rumbling stagecoach’s window, his wide hazel eyes taking in every bit of the small dusty town he could manage. A big man driving a wagon with a coffin in the back rolled quickly past in the opposite direction. Another fellow was busy sweeping ineffectually at the dust on the boardwalk in front of the General Store. There was the Saloon, and the Bathhouse, and the Livery. There was the Hotel and the Jail.

He grinned. It was all so like he’d imagined. Horses tied to hitching posts, men in tall hats and dust-covered clothes lounging in the shade, ladies ambling along the boardwalk absorbed in soft conversation. There! His eyes fell at last on the place he’d been looking for; there was the home of the Clarion News.

The stagecoach slowed to a halt and JD jumped down, bouncing with his excitement. After retrieving his saddle and the one small satchel holding all his belongs, he raced over to the newspaper’s office.

The windows rattled as he knocked sharply on the door. Opening the door to peer inside, he saw the only person there was a pretty blond lady. She was sitting at the big oak desk, with one pencil tucked over her ear and another clenched between her teeth.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” JD called to her, “I’m wonderin’ if you could help me?”

“I can certainly try,” she smiled at him, “what can I do for you?”

“I’m lookin’ for a...” he dropped everything to pull a folded, well-worn piece of paper from his inside jacket pocket, scanning it quickly, “a Mr. Travis?” JD looked up at her with a hopeful expression. “The fella that wrote these here ‘Demon Hunter’ articles? M. J. Travis?”

She smiled, standing up as she extended her hand in his direction. “That would be me. Mary Travis.”

JD stood stunned for a moment at the completely unexpected revelation, then jumped forward to shake her offered hand. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he apologized, “I just didn’t expect...-” He let the statement trail off.

“That it would be a woman running The Clarion News and writing those editorials?” she asked with a grin. “You’re not the first, and I doubt you’ll be the last. Mr....”

“Dunne, ma’am. JD Dunne.” He doffed his bowler to her, then placed it firmly back on his head. “Pleased to meet ya, Miz Travis.”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance as well, Mr. Dunne.”

“Please, ma’am, call me JD.”

“Now, how can I help you?”

“Well,” JD paused, searching for the best way to ask.

“Let me guess,” Mary smiled, “you’re an aspiring cub reporter from back East and you’ve come to make your fortune and your reputation by investigating our so-called Demon Hunters and exposing them for the frauds they obviously are.”

JD rubbed the back of his neck with slight grimace. “Well, umm, not exactly ma’am....”

“Then what?” Mary asked.

“Well I was hopin’ you could tell me where to find them,” he paused, looking away from the reporter’s sharp gaze, “‘cuz I wanted to join them in their fight.”

“What?” she gasped, surprised.

“I wanna help them destroy demons, help make the world a safer place for good honest folks to live.”

“There are no such things as demons, JD. They’ve made up these so-called monsters in order to keep the people around here scared and dependant upon them for protection. It’s nothing more than organized thievery.” She sighed, seeing the obstinate look in the young man’s eyes. “They’re not in town right now, but the best place to watch for them is usually the saloon.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” JD tipped his hat once more in Mary’s direction, and picking up his things again, turned and left.

Mary shook her head as she watched him leave, and turned back to her work. He’d be disappointed soon enough. They wouldn’t be able to hide the truth from such an eager young man forever. Sooner or later he’d discover their secret. Then she’d have another voice crying fraud alongside her own.

“Did you find anything?” Nathan asked, looking up as he heard Chris stepping through the thick brush back into the small clearing. With a wave of his fingers, Nathan banished the small mage-light he’d sent with Chris. The early morning light filtering down to them had already made it unnecessary.

Chris shook his head. “No weapon.” He sighed. “Found some footprints, maybe a bit of a trail to follow over to the west. Lost it though. Need Vin to check it out.”

The healer noted the weary set to Chris’ shoulders. “You look tired Chris.”

The black-clad gunslinger snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re all tired. Nothing to be done about it.”

Raising a dark eyebrow, Nathan replied, “Well, you might try resting.”

“I can rest later. We gotta catch whoever or whatever did this.”

Nathan didn’t argue, couldn’t really. He felt the same sense of urgency himself. Any creature that could do this needed to be stopped; the sooner, the better.

“You finished here?”

“Almost,” Nathan nodded. The body was laying straight, most of the gaping wounds closed over with only deep red lines left marking the flesh. He’d done as much as he could, but his healing power worked best on live flesh. As much as he might wish to make her pretty and presentable again, Nathan knew his energy was better preserved for the living, and any battles waged to protect them.

“What can you tell me?” Chris offered the healer a hand, helping him to stand and stretch his legs.

Nathan sighed. “Not much I’m afraid. It looks as though the organs were taken out real careful-like, methodically even. Cut out, not torn or ripped.” He turned, staring absently at the body. “It’s almost as though whoever did it was preparing for some kind of ritual.”

Chris nodded absently.

“Especially if that vampire’s right about the fire pit and ashes. Only....”

“What?”

The Mage shrugged. “I just can’t sense any build-up of Power. Nothing I’ve ever come across could gather up Power so effectively that there wasn’t some trace left behind.” He crossed his arms, with a sharp scowl, “It just don’t make sense.”

Both men fell silent, minds racing through the possible implications of this new bit of information.

The big grey wolf ran.

His tongue lolled out the side of his mouth in a wide canine grin and his golden brown eyes sparkled with pleasure as his muscles stretched and contracted with his ground-eating lope.

He’d done a thorough, wide-ranging search of the area and come up with nothing. So he was returning to the place where he’d left the others. And enjoying this rare opportunity to exalt in this form, to run wild and free, untamed by anyone or anything.

And so he raced, almost flying in his joy.

Too late, he saw the snare, scented the trap. Too late to stop, or even slow down. He felt the snare close around his paw, jerking his left front leg almost out of its socket as his momentum carried him forward, at the same moment as his ears registered a bright yelp of pain and a burning line of fire that shot from his paw through his shoulder to his entire body.

The wolf lay, panting and in pain. After a few moments, he closed his eyes, dropping his head to the ground, and with a long drawn out whine, Shifted.

Where the wolf had been, Josiah lay naked, still panting. He moaned softly, cursing his lack of attention. Gritting his teeth, he rolled to his knees. He groaned through his clenched teeth at the fresh wave of pain across his shoulder and chest. Gingerly, he reached with his right hand, loosening the snare still tight around his wrist, pulling it off and throwing it to the ground.

He stood, cradling his injured arm tight against his chest as he slowly began to walk back to the others.

Vin jogged back into the clearing, to join Nathan and Chris.

“You find anything?” Larabee asked.

The tracker nodded. “Traces of a fire pit, ashes, fresh dirt. Northeast of here, just over that rise and across the river.”

“Worth another look?”

Vin shook his head. “Scouted around a bit. Nothing to find. The only obvious tracks lead back here.” He threw the twig he’d been toying with sharply into the dirt. “Nothin’s makin’ sense here.”

“That ain’t all,” Nathan muttered, telling Vin about the conclusions, or lack of them that he’d come up with while he’d been scouting around.

“Damn,” Vin muttered. “So, you changed yer mind then? About Standish bein’ involved?” Vin spoke softly, the challenge evident in his quiet voice.

Nathan scowled, arms folded across his chest, “No. Why would I?”

“Ya said yerself there was weapons used,” Vin pointed out, “that someone was tryin’ to do some kinda ritual.”

“He looks like a slick enough vamp to know that using a knife would serve his purposes and hide the evidence of his feeding,” Nathan argued. “And just because someone else was likely there, it don’t mean he wasn’t involved.”

“So what’re we gonna do, Chris?”

Chris sighed, “I don’t know yet Vin. Somethin’.”

The clattering rattle of a wagon signalled Buck’s return with the coffin. Nathan turned questioningly in Vin’s direction and with an answering nod, the two moved to lift the coffin from the back of the wagon and bring it down next to the body.

“Buck,” Chris called, closing in on the gunslinger as he stepped down from the wagon, his eyes running quickly over Buck’s form, checking carefully for anything out of place. “You okay?” He looked deeply into Buck’s bright blue eyes, fighting the urge to pull the gunslinger closer and tear the big bandanna away from his neck, to check every inch of his best friend for bite marks.

“I’m fine, Chris,” Buck frowned slightly, bridling a little at his friend’s tone.

“Well, what the hell took ya so long then?” Larabee growled, “It was Standish, wasn’t it?”

Buck scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now just a damn minute, Chris, what gives you the right to....”

“Josiah!” Nathan’s cry doused the two men’s flaring tempers.

Chris and Buck both turned in time to see the wer stumble the last few feet into the clearing and collapse as Nathan rushed to his side. Following the healer’s example, Buck charged to Josiah’s crumpled form, Chris only half a step behind.

Buck knelt, helping Nathan roll the heavily muscled man onto his back. Josiah moaned brokenly, attempting to pull away from the hands trying to hold him steady.

Chris stood back, watching, worried. “Josiah, what happened?”

“Stupid mistake,” Josiah gasped, groaning as Nathan’s fingers probed carefully over his arm and shoulder. “Snare. Didn’t notice it ‘til it was too late.”

“Nathan?”

“No broken bones at least, but the shoulder’s dislocated. It’s gonna hafta be put back in.”

Josiah drew a deep breath and nodded at the healer. “Do it,” he gritted.

Nathan smiled, brushing his hands over the wer’s eyes. “Sleep, my friend, feel no pain.” When he pulled his fingers away, Josiah’s eyes were closed, his breathing even and easy. “Buck,” Nathan looked at the gunslinger, “I need you to hold him, tight. I’m gonna hafta be jerkin’ on his arm pretty hard to pop it back in and it won’t work if you don’t keep him from movin’.”

Buck swallowed, looking sharply at the sleeping wer and then at the healer. “Why don’t ya just ‘magic’ it back then?”

It was Chris who replied, “No. We may need Nathan’s Power later.”

Nathan nodded. “Relocating a popped limb is easily enough accomplished with the right application of pressure. I’ll save him the pain, that takes little Power to do,” Nathan looked down at the unaware man, “and the strain his arm’s already been through, added to the muscle mass he’s got, is gonna make this a little more difficult and painful than it might otherwise be.” He looked back up at Buck, “Just hold him steady and I’ll do the rest.”

Buck nodded, wrapping his arms around Josiah’s chest, holding tight.

A sharp cry echoed across the small clearing and all three men started in surprise, turning toward the pain-filled sound.

“Vin!” Chris called out as the tracker screamed again, clutching his head with both hands as he began to crumple to his knees. Larabee lunged across the space separating him from Tanner trying to catch the younger man. Vin’s full weight suddenly dropping against his arms pulled Chris off balance, and both men fell to the ground, Larabee twisting to cushion the tracker’s fall, pulling Vin tight to his chest.

Buck turned at the same moment, ready to jump to the tracker’s assistance.

Nathan’s sharp “Buck!” brought the demon’s attention back to the healer and the injured man already in his arms. “Chris has got Vin.” The Mage’s dark eyes never wavered off Josiah’s sleeping form. “Ya gotta help me here right now.”

Buck nodded, bracing himself as Nathan started to pull.

“Nathan!” Chris called, a sharp edge of worry in his tone. Vin was curled into a tight ball against him, cradling his head in his hands, still moaning softly as his eyes clenched tightly shut.

“No,” Vin rasped. He swallowed, attempting to soothe his dry throat before trying again, “No, I’m fine... you just take care of Josiah right now, Nathan.”

“Vin,” Chris rubbed a slightly shaking hand over the still tightly hunched shoulders.

The tracker shook his head, struggling to straighten and sit up, pulling out of Chris’ arms. “I’m okay, pard. Honest.”

Chris scowled as Vin pulled back, anger quickly burning away the fear in his gut. “Goddamn it, Tanner! Just what the hell d’ya think you were doin’?” he thundered.

Vin just stared at Larabee for a moment, scowling in return. “What kind of a damn fool question is that?” he grumbled back. “What the hell do ya think I was doin’?” He rubbed light circles against his left temple. “I was tryin’ again to contact her Spirit.”

“What happened?”

“I felt her pain. Felt it like it was my own. She was still alive when they did this to her Chris. She felt it all.” Vin trembled, grimacing at the echo of that unimaginable pain.

Chris swallowed, his throat tight. Hesitantly, he reached toward Vin, but pulled back, afraid to touch, to make it worse. “Did ya see who?”

“No. Couldn’t get past the pain. I’m not sure she even knows herself.” Vin wrapped his arms around his chest, squeezing tight. The pain was still there, just beneath the surface. If he closed his eyes it would return, the tearing at his chest and abdomen, the loss of organs, of blood. He moaned softly. His head still throbbed with the echo of the girl’s wrenching Spiritual scream.

“Just rest Vin,” Chris murmured, feeling more helpless than he’d ever been in his life.

Nathan spared a single glance at the two other men, before turning back to his first patient. He laid the wer’s relocated arm gently across his chest. He placed his hand lightly over Josiah’s eyes. “Wake,” he murmured. Pale blue eyes slowly opened, blinking up at the healer. “How’s that?” Nathan asked softly.

Josiah rotated his arm slowly, reaching left and right, then up and down. “Much better Nathan, thank you.”

“It’s gonna be sore. And the bruising will be with you a while,” the healer warned, smiling at his friend’s quick nod. “Buck,” he turned, “how about you go get Josiah his clothes? I’m gonna go check on Vin.”

Buck grinned. “Sure thing.”

Nathan hurried over to where the tracker still sat, head hanging, elbows resting on his bent knees. “Vin?”

Lifting his head to meet the healer’s concern with a weak smile, Vin mumbled, “I’m really fine, Nathan. Just got a headache is all.”

“How about you let me be the judge of that?” Nathan grinned. He reached toward Vin, tracing his hands around the tracker’s head and shoulders without actually touching, a soft green glow bathing his fingertips. After several minutes he dropped his hands with a sigh, the glow dissipating, “I can’t find any actual damage.”

Vin shrugged, “Like I said, I’m fine.” Sucking in a deep breath, the tracker slowly stood. He clutched his head, swaying on his feet as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Four pairs of hands reached quickly to steady him as Buck and Josiah rejoined the others.

“Yeah, fine,” Chris muttered.

“I think Vin oughta ride back to town in the wagon with me,” Buck scowled.

“What?!” The sharp exclamation came from Chris and Vin both.

“Better’n seein’ him planted face first in the dirt after he falls off his horse.” Buck pointed out.

Nathan nodded. “Buck’s right.” He turned to frown at the tracker. “Vin, you can hardly stand on your own.”

“Don’t need ta stand when I’m in the damn saddle!” the tracker growled.

“Balance is balance brother,” Josiah grinned, “on your feet or on horseback.”

“Easy for you to say,” Vin grumbled, “nobody’s makin’ you ride in the wagon like an overgrown child.” The tracker stood stiff and unamused, as the others chuckled at his gruff comment, but even the Tanner stubborn determination was no match for his four concerned friends. In a matter of minutes, completely ignoring his protests, they had him safely ensconced next to Buck on the wagon’s seat.

Chris picked up Peso’s reins, leading the gelding as Nathan and Josiah rode ahead. His concern held him back as his worried gaze settled on Vin, watching him carefully for any sign of the pain’s return.

“Aw c’mon Vin,” Buck smiled, nudging his elbow lightly against the tracker’s, “ya know it’s for yer own good.”

Vin jerked his crossed arms away from the gunslinger, refusing to acknowledge the teasing, or the truth of Buck’s words. “I coulda rode, damn it.”

As the wagon rumbled and bounced over a particularly rough patch, Vin groaned, squeezing his eyes closed against the sudden nausea rising up his throat. The pain pounding behind his eyes suddenly felt as though it was splitting his head in two. He groaned, slumping in his seat unaware, leaning out over the wagon’s wheel.

“Whoa there, Vin!” Buck muttered, reaching quickly to pull the tracker back into the seat. He settled the semi-conscious man against his chest wrapping his arm tightly around the slumped shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, “lean on me.”

Chris scowled sharply. Buck ignored the icy glare, concentrating instead on Vin.

Vin’s head lolled against Buck’s shoulder as the wagon continued to bounce. Buck rested his chin against the soft brown curls. “I’ll make sure you’re safe,” he murmured, with a quick squeeze to the tracker’s arm. He continued to hold the younger man for the rest of the short trip back to town.

The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the dirty windows of the saloon illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. A sleek black cat with bright green eyes sat preening at the top of the stairs, slowly surveying the room’s occupants below.

The saloon was almost empty. Two wizened old men, regular customers, nursed a pair of beers and a game of checkers in the corner. Inez, the pretty young woman who ran the bar stood behind the counter, cleaning.

The only other person was an unfamiliar face. A young man. He couldn’t be more than twenty, if that. He was wearing a slightly worn, but neatly kept suit, with his straight black hair hanging out from under the bowler on his head. He’d settled himself at the far end of the bar where he sat with a huge plate of Inez’s homemade burritos and a large glass of milk, eating as only a growing young man could. Every few minutes, he would look up in the direction of the saloon’s swinging doors. He was obviously waiting for someone to arrive.

Footsteps sounded along the boardwalk and the young man tensed, watching the doors carefully.

Chris Larabee stalked into the saloon. He looked as though he’d gotten at least a little sleep. He’d changed his clothes; today a deep blue shirt, mostly hidden beneath the black coat he wore over it, topped the customary black jeans. His hat was pulled low over his forehead, shading his eyes from view.

He walked straight to the bar and ordered a beer from Inez. When she brought it, he took it to the far table in front of the windows and sat. Despite the casual way he sprawled in the hard chair, his slight scowl and crossed arms still exuded an air of, not menace exactly, but distance perhaps. Unapproachable and forbidding, he looked like a man who had too many serious things on his mind, like a man who walked the very edge of darkness.

The young man at the end of the bar was watching Larabee with wide-eyed awe. He looked strung tight, practically quivering with his need to approach the other man, but he hesitated as the doors swung open again and more men entered.

Vin stepped into the bar with Buck right on his heels. With a nod in Chris’s direction, both men walked to the bar, and then beers in hand, headed to join Larabee at his table in the corner.

As Vin dropped into the chair beside Chris’s with a sigh and a grimace, Buck settled in the empty chair next to the tracker’s.

The glossy black cat licked its lips, his tail twitching slightly as he watched the men below. He stood and began to pick his careful way down the stairs, skirting the debris and squeaking steps as he went, heading straight for the table in the corner and the three men who sat there.

Chris’s eyes searched Vin’s expression, dwelling on the dark circles beneath his pale blue eyes. “You okay?”

Vin sighed again, “I told ya last night....”

“Yeah,” Chris interrupted with a growl, “right before you passed out.” He scowled at the tracker. “You look like hell.”

“Nathan checked on ’im just a few minutes ago, Chris,” Buck offered.

The glare turned onto Buck’s casual grin. “Where is Nathan?”

Buck’s grin faded to seriousness. “He went with Josiah. They’re talkin’ to the girl’s family, makin’ funeral arrangements.”

The lithe little tomcat walked straight up to Chris. Purring softly, he rubbed sinuously against the long black-clad leg.

“What the hell-...” Chris muttered, startled.

The cat jumped, settling into Chris’s lap, kneading and circling carefully at the gunslinger’s groin as he made himself comfortable. He continued to purr, rubbing softly against Chris. He could feel the man tense as he shifted, finding just the right spot to massage.

“New friend there Chris?” Buck chuckled.

Vin grinned, “Don’t recall any black cats around here before....”

Sitting up, the cat licked around his sharp teeth, his green eyes sparkling, sharing in their amusement.

“You mean...” Chris muttered.

Vin looked deeply into the cat’s knowing eyes, seeking. A familiar Spirit gazed back. “You know who that is, don’t ya?” he grinned at Chris.

Chris glared at the cat.

Wide green almond eyes winked at the gunslinger.

“Down, damn it!” Chris huffed, fighting an amused chuckle. He shoved at the sleek cat.

With an indignant yowl, the cat jumped.

“Oh, look out,” the young man in the bowler laughed as he stepped up to their table, grabbing awkwardly to catch the cat as it landed on his chest. “I got ya. You’re okay now.” He absently stroked his hand over the smooth black fur. “Oh,” he muttered, looking up at the three men watching him, “I’m sorry to interrupt ya. My name’s JD Dunne.”

The cat purred, licking roughly at JD’s wrist.

“Was there somethin’ ya wanted?” Buck asked the boy, fighting against a grin.

“Uh, yeah.” JD hesitated, his hazel eyes dropping to stare at the cat in his arms. Resolutely, he drew in a deep breath and looked up again. “You are the demon hunters, right?”

Chris nodded once. “You need help?”

JD shook his head. “I wanna join ya. I wanna kill demons.”

Chris sighed. “Go home boy. We’re not lookin’ for help.”

Inez watched the brewing exchange carefully. Seeing the growing anger in the hazel eyes, she stepped in and gently lifted the cat from the young man’s arms. She cradled the cat against her chest with a soft smile. “Come señor,” she murmured, “You must not bother our paying customers.” With a soft meow, the cat licked her throat as she carried him away.

JD planted his hands on his hips, “Why? Don’t ya understand? I believe ya. I believe in the monsters and I wanna help ya kill them.”

“Look, kid...” Buck began with a grin.

“I’m not a kid, damn it!” JD shouted. Flushing, he stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Mr. Larabee, I just want a chance. I can handle it.”

Chris scowled. “How the hell d’ya know my name?”

JD grinned, eager to prove himself. “Chris Larabee, Vin Tanner, and Buck Wilmington, right?” He nodded to each man in turn. “I’ve read every editorial Mrs. Travis has ever written about you all. That’s why I’m here.”

Buck chuckled. “You read what she wrote?”

JD nodded.

“And you still believe in monsters enough to come all the way out here to join up and fight ‘em?” Buck smirked.

“Absolutely,” JD grinned.

“Boy’s got gumption Chris, ya gotta give ‘im that.”

“Gentlemen,” Ezra interrupted smoothly, as he walked up and settled into the empty chair across from the three men with a wide grin, “how are we all this afternoon?” He looked up at the young man. “Forgive my poor manners, I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” he smiled brightly. “My name is Ezra Standish.”

“I’m sorry,” JD shook his head, “I don’t think we’ve met at all. I’m JD Dunne.”

Ezra simply smiled, green eyes twinkling as he extended his hand to shake JD’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held the young man’s gaze, putting the barest hint of emphasis on the word ‘pleasure’.

JD blinked, stepping back to break the other man’s intense stare. He slowly nodded, acknowledging the greeting.

“Listen... Dunne, was it?” Chris scowled at the young man. “I’m sorry you come all this way for nothin’, but if you don’t mind, we’ve got things to discuss here.”

It was clearly a dismissal. The words alone made that clear, even without the gruff tone and accompanying glare.

Inez stepped quickly forward, steering JD back to his earlier seat at the far end of the long bar with a calm determination. “Come, JD,” she soothed, “finish your meal, and I will prepare you a room.” She smiled brightly, whispering, “Don’t lose heart, they are good men. They judge others only by their actions.”

JD grinned. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m not givin’ up.”

“Good,” she nodded, satisfied, “and my name is Inez, not ma’am.”

“Yes, m-... Inez,” JD blushed, ducking his head and concentrating on his food.

The vampire smiled, easily hearing the conversation that was taking place on the other side of the room. Perhaps the young man would be here to stay after all. It was a pleasant prospect.

-9-

“What’re you grinnin’ about?” Chris muttered.

“Nothin’ at all, Mr. Larabee,” Ezra’s grin grew. Turning his attention to the other two men, his smile faded as he noticed the tracker’s tired appearance and the deep dark circles under his eyes. “Mr. Tanner,” he paused, momentarily at a loss as to what to say, “are... are you all right? You seem a bit... worn.” He felt his fingers curling against his palms as he struggled with the urge to reach out to Vin, to soothe the weary set of his shoulders.

“He looks like shit, you mean,” Chris grumbled.

“I told ya I’m fine,” Vin growled, “Could ya just drop it?”

“No, I don’t think we can,” Chris glared back.

“We need ta talk about it Vin,” Buck added softly, reasonably. “If it has anythin’ to do with what happened to that girl, we need to figure it all out.”

“I’m sorry gentlemen,” Ezra interrupted, glancing at each of the men in turn, “but what, exactly, happened?”

“Nothin’.” Vin scowled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ezra studied the tracker’s closed expression. He looked to Chris’s equally sullen scowl. Sighing, he turned to Buck, arching his brow in question.

Buck shrugged. “He tried talkin’ to the Spirits again. Ended up screamin’ and collapsin’. Don’t rightly know what happened.”

“Mr. Tanner?” Ezra asked, scrutinizing the younger man’s features. He extended his senses a little further, tasting Vin’s emotional aura. From this distance, without physical contact, it was difficult and hazy at best. All he managed to read for his effort was exhaustion, and a hint of pain.

“Damn it!” he hissed, “how many times do I hafta tell y’all? I’m fine.” Vin slammed his palm onto the table.

Deciding a new topic, and perhaps an easing of the tension was in order; Ezra abruptly changed the subject. He grinned softly in the tracker’s direction, “How did you know it was me? In Mr. Larabee’s lap?”

Vin smiled at the vampire, acknowledging his subtle collusion. “You mean besides that same lazy grin and the mischief lightin’ that cat’s big green eyes?” Vin arched a brow in Ezra’s direction.

Ezra chuckled, inclining his head to the tracker. “Yes indeed, other than those obvious similarities.”

“Simple. I could see your Guide behind you. And your spirit shines bright as a beacon.” Vin met Ezra’s laughing eyes with an intense blue stare, murmuring, “I’d recognise you anywhere Ezra. In any form.” Wide-eyed, Vin quickly dropped his gaze to the remains of his beer. What in all creation had made him admit that? How did this vampire gain such a hold on him so quickly?

Ezra sat speechless for a moment, watching the colour rise in the tracker’s cheeks. Vin had just answered his earlier worry about what the younger man saw when he looked at the vampire, but what exactly did he mean about ‘recognising’ Ezra’s spirit anywhere, in any form? He was quite sure he’d never met the young man in his extended lifetime.

“What the hell were you playin’ at anyways, Standish?” Chris growled, shifting in his seat.

Ezra blinked, coming back to the conversation at hand. He turned to Chris with a wide grin. “Just a little fun,” he shrugged. He looked intently back to Vin. “You saw my Guide?”

Grateful for the safer topic, Vin launched into a quick explanation, “Just somethin’ I learned while I lived with the Kiowas and with the Comanches. Every person has an Animal Guide, sort of a spiritual companion or teacher, usually one that matches his or her strongest qualities or potentials. Most people can learn to communicate with their own Guide. I have a gift that allows me to see anyone’s Guide, and with some effort even sometimes communicate with it.”

“You saw mine?” Ezra asked, curious. “What was it?”

“A wolf. He’s sittin’ right behind ya.”

“Is a wolf a good Guide?” Ezra cast a quick glance over his shoulder, seeing only empty space.

“Guides ain’t good or bad,” Vin shrugged. “They’re just whatever suits ya. Wolves are good protectors, both of themselves and their families.”

Ezra grinned. “Now I am quite curious. Which Animal Guides have laid claim to the three of you?”

Vin grinned in return. “Well Chris’s suits him, that’s fer sure. It’s a big ol’ bobcat. Ornery and vigilant, always on the lookout for trouble.”

Chris scowled as the other three men chuckled.

“Mr. Wilmington’s?” Ezra asked.

“Buck’s is a hound dog. Full of love and loyalty, and usually lazing in the sun.”

Chris guffawed as Buck frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “I ain’t that bad,” he grumbled.

“And yours?” Ezra asked softly.

“Mine’s an eagle,” Vin smiled.

“A hunter of keen eyesight,” Ezra nodded, “Quite appropriate for a tracker of your skill.”

Vin grinned, acknowledging the compliment. “He also connects me to the spiritual, to all Guides.”

“And you say you can see anyone’s Guide?”

“Yep.” The tracker lifted his beer, taking a long swallow.

Ezra’s eyes quickly scanned the room, coming to rest on the young woman in front of the bar. “Señorita Recillos’?” he asked, nodding in her direction.

Vin looked over to where Inez was standing. A small brown otter rolled playfully at her feet. “Otter.”

“What about young Mr. Dunne’s?”

The tracker scanned the end of the bar, studying the area around the young man carefully. “Porcupine.”

Ezra smiled as he watched Vin nod to himself, apparently liking what he saw in the boy.

Buck snorted, grinning. “A porcupine?”

“Defensive, but a good protector,” Vin muttered thoughtfully, taking another swallow of his beer, eyes focused on JD.

“So last night,” Ezra murmured quietly, deftly slipping back to the previous subject, “was it the girl’s Animal Guide you were trying to contact?”

“No, I...” Vin automatically started to answer, before glaring at the vampire. He sighed, staring unfocussed at his beer glass. “A Guide doesn’t linger long after the person is gone. It was her soul, her immortal spirit I was seeking.”

“You can communicate with both,” Ezra acknowledged with a nod. “Did you make contact?” Ezra studied the tracker intently.

“Not really,” Vin swallowed tightly, “not exactly. All I could get was the pain, the horror of it all. She was alive when it happened. She felt it all. Beyond that, I don’t think she even knew who it was or why it was happening to her.”

“You mean it wasn’t anyone she knew,” Chris muttered.

“No.” Vin looked up at the three men with haunted, pain-filled eyes. “I mean I don’t think she coulda recognised anyone or anything. She was, her spirit still is, completely overwhelmed.”

JD closed the door softly behind Inez, tossing his carpetbag onto the bed as he looked around the small room she’d made up for him. While the walls and the furnishings had obviously seen better days, the room was tidy and clean, a good deal better than most of the places he’d lived in since his mother had died.

He sighed, walking over to the window to look down at the street below. People were wandering up and down the street, going about their everyday business, no rush in their step, no fear in their eyes. Most of them were probably confident that the monsters didn’t really exist. If they gave them any thought at all. Those that knew better obviously trusted Chris Larabee and his companions to keep the monsters at bay, to make sure Four Corners stayed a reasonably safe place to raise a family.

Absently JD reached into his vest pocket before remembering that the newspaper articles were no longer there. He’d saved every story about the demon hunters that had ever been published in The Clarion. When they’d grown too tattered to be read, he’d thrown them away, but that was long after he knew every story by heart.

He’d been drawn to them from the very beginning. Somehow, despite the editor’s opinion, JD had believed. He’d believed in the monsters, and believed in the men fighting them. And he’d known in his gut that he belonged with them; that he should ride among them, fighting the darkness at their sides.

JD sighed, dropping his head to bump dully against the glass windowpane. Abruptly, his vision began to narrow and his pulse started pounding in his ears. He clenched his eyes shut, lifting his hands to his temples. “No, please,” he groaned, “not now.”

Images swirled behind his closed eyelids, too brief and jumbled for him to latch onto any single one for long...

A wolf, big and black, running full speed through the brush, chasing another, a silver grey wolf...

The mists swirled and finally resolved themselves into a shadowed form, a vampire, leaping down from somewhere with a snarl, fangs bared, knocking a screaming victim to the ground...

That image faded to darkness, then a man stepped out of the shadows, a man dressed all in black, shouting a warning, aiming his pistol at another, a green-eyed man in a red coat, then pulling the trigger...

“No,” JD moaned, shaking his head wildly, completely lost in the swirling visions.

A small group of people, standing with hats in their hands, around a fresh grave as a preacher spoke solemn words meant to offer comfort...

A vampire with fangs bared, pulled him closer and closer, until twin points of fire pierced his throat and his head fell back, mouth open in a silent scream...

“Nooo!” JD screamed, stumbling away from the window, oblivious to the crash of the pitcher and washbasin as he fell to the floor, semi-conscious.

-11-

Ezra slowly made his way down the stairs, glancing quickly around the saloon’s dimly lit interior as he did so. Other than Chris, Vin and Buck, who were huddled around their usual table, intent in conversation, the place was empty. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Josiah strode purposefully through the batwing doors.

The three men looked up from their discussion, beckoning the preacher to join them.

Josiah nodded, walking first to the bar, looking left and right for Inez.

Ezra stepped up behind the bar, smiling into the curious blue eyes. “Might I help you with something, Mr. Sanchez?”

Josiah quirked an eyebrow. “Are you working here now?”

“Not exactly,” Ezra shrugged, “Although I can assure you that Señorita Recillos will not be upset if I help you with an order.”

Josiah held the green gaze a moment, measuring. With a satisfied nod, he grinned, “Well, in that case, I’ll have a beer...-”

“Please,” the vampire interrupted, “feel free to address me as Ezra, sir.” He grinned, sliding a mug of beer across the counter.

“Josiah.” The preacher nodded, reaching for the beer. He grimaced, rubbing his arm and shoulder.

“You are hurt, Josiah?” Ezra asked, concerned.

“Just a bit of a shoulder strain.” Josiah answered, meeting the bright eyes with a grin. “I heal quickly.”

“Indeed.” Ezra nodded, understanding. Werewolves, like vampires, mended most wounds at an accelerated rate. “May I ask what happened?”

“Nothing but a foolish mistake on my part. Got caught in a snare last night. Dislocated the shoulder.” He reached again for the beer, more slowly this time. As he did, his cuff pulled back, revealing a red, rashy, almost burned area around his wrist.

The vampire drew in a swift breath, grabbing Josiah’s arm to study the wrist carefully.

“Are you all right, brother?” Josiah asked, tugging his arm back. “It’s just a bit of rope burn.”

Ezra stood silent a moment, his eyes fixed on the wide wrist. “Josiah,” he looked up urgently, “could you take me to where it happened? Show me the snare? Tonight?”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Josiah frowned as he watched the vampire’s expression go blank, shuttering closed. For the first time since he’d met Ezra, the teasing humour was gone.

Ezra sighed. “Perhaps nothing, if we are very fortunate. I’d prefer to wait until I’ve had a chance to examine the area.” He looked into the worried blue eyes, “I’d rather not alarm anyone unnecessarily.”

“Is it any danger to the town? To our group?”

“If I’m wrong, it’s nothing.” Ezra looked away from the preacher’s sharp stare. “If not, a few hours more will make no significant difference.” Still scowling slightly, Ezra looked up to see the others watching them intently. “It would appear as though your friends are impatient for you to join them.”

“Are you coming over, too?”

“Perhaps in a moment,” Ezra nodded, looking up to watch Nathan and Inez descending the staircase. He managed to slide a beer to Nathan just as the healer reached the bar.

Inez smiled, joining Ezra behind the bar as Josiah and Nathan made their way over to the table where their three friends sat.

“Making himself right at home, ain’t he?” Nathan grumbled, jerking his head in the vampire’s direction with a sharp scowl.

Chris frowned. “And what was that bit with yer arm, Josiah?”

Nathan thumped his mug down on the table. “Did he hurt you? Let me see,” he gritted, reaching for the preacher’s arm.

“It’s fine, brother.” Josiah twisted, keeping out of Nathan’s reach. “He just asked about it, that’s all.”

Chris leaned forward. “Asked what?”

The big man shrugged, “Just asked what happened is all.”

“That’s it?” Chris turned to stare at the vampire.

Josiah took a big, slow swallow of his beer, setting the glass carefully back on the table. “Asked if I’d take him there, show ‘im where it happened.”

Chris whipped his head back around with a sharp look at Josiah, but it was Buck who spoke first. “What for?”

Josiah shrugged again. “He didn’t want to say.”

Chris shoved the chair back as he jumped to his feet. “Well, he’s damn well gonna say!” he growled.

“You’re making it much more difficult than it needs to be for them to trust you.” Inez looked appraisingly at Ezra. “On purpose?”

Ezra looked away from the young woman’s dark, knowing gaze.

“They are good men. Worthy of your trust.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” he asked softly.

“I’ve talked with them. I’ve watched them.” She shrugged. “I know.”

The vampire grinned wryly. “Inez,” he sighed, “you’ve been here a whole week longer than I have.”

She flushed slightly, grinning back. “It was enough. You like them already. Admit it.”

“I’m afraid liking them and being able to trust them with what I know are two very different things.” He turned thoughtful eyes on the group in the corner.

Inez saw the wistful look in the gambler’s green eyes. “It is more than just liking you are feeling for someone over there, yes?”

Ezra blinked, turning away from watching the five men. He swallowed sharply. “Nothing more than perhaps vessel potential.”

Inez merely cocked her head, watching him.

“No,” he repeated, shaking his head. “You think I’m a fool? You think I didn’t learn nearly a century ago that believing in love is a painful waste of time?”

She laid a gentle hand against Ezra’s cheek. “I think in here, you believe that.” Lowering it to his chest she added, “but in here, and in your soul, you hold on to your hope, tattered though it may be.”

Ezra sighed. “How did you become such a wise and annoyingly perceptive woman?”

Inez grinned, “It must have been all the time I’ve spent with you.”

Ezra laughed, his smile bright once more.

“Ezra, darling boy!”

All eyes in the saloon turned to the loud voice that all but sang the greeting. Just inside the batwing doors, closing a large parasol, stood an utterly beautiful, elegantly dressed woman. Silver blond hair was styled to perfection. A sapphire silk gown edged in black lace drew out the bright blue of her eyes.

It took several moments for anyone to notice the two others standing slightly behind her. Mary edged around her, “I see you’ve found him then, Mrs.-”

“Call me Maude, my dear,” the elegant woman interrupted. “I never could abide by formalities among friends.”

Mary’s eyes widened, a slightly flustered expression crossing her face. “All right,” she hesitated, “Maude.”

“Thomas,” Maude turned to the freckle-faced young man standing behind her, “please take our bags to the Hotel. I need to talk with my...” she glanced quickly around the room, “with my Childe.”

A shock of carrot orange hair fell across his silver blue eyes as he smiled, pulling his hat low over his eyes as he nodded to Mary before turning to lug the large, heavy bags across the street.

“Ezra, dear,” Maude called, opening her arms wide, “don’t you have a kiss for your own Mother?”