Night of the Wolves (8 page)

He couldn’t control the anger he was feeling, and though he managed to keep himself from grabbing her, he couldn’t control the fury in his words.

“You’re a fool. I thought you were supposed to be an educated young woman. An intelligent one. Last night, you might have been raped and murdered, and yet here you are, prowling around in the dark and—”

“Now, Cody,” Dave protested weakly. “She asked me to come with her for protection. We were heading back
when the wolves spooked the horses, who ran off. That’s the only reason we’re still here.”

“Right. The horses,” Brendan said. “Let’s get to them before they decide it’s safe to head home without us. Miss Gordon, your horse is out there just beyond the trees. Dave, we haven’t seen yours, so you can double up with me. Cody?”

Cody knew that he was still staring angrily at Alex. And she was staring back at him, her fury the equal of his.

“Mr. Fox,” she said, as if the discussion of the horses had never happened, “I am a free agent and over twenty-one. And I am not stupid. Not even my father raised his voice to me in such a manner as you just did, and I will thank you not to do so in the future. I’m not going to ask you to move out of my boardinghouse over this one incident, especially since your arrival has now proved useful not once but twice. But while your presence is deeply appreciated, your opinions are not.”

With that, she spun around and strode past Brendan and Dave, who was standing openmouthed after her outburst. The three men quickly followed her, Cody swearing beneath his breath.

Once they left the thick darkness under the trees, the world felt familiar and safe again. The moon shone down with a gentle benevolence, and the breeze whispered softly, cool and fresh and smelling of the wildflowers that dotted the plain.

In silence, Cody mounted his horse. Alex needed no help to mount her still-quivering mare, who at least responded to her crooning tone, growing calm at her owner’s soothing words.

Dave leaped up behind Brendan and Cody urged their horses toward Alex.

“I hope you’ll forgive me, Miss Gordon, if my concern for your life caused me to lose my temper and offend you. There’s a serious danger to be fought here, and it will be far easier for Brendan and me to root it out and put an end to it if we’re not constantly worrying about your safety.”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond. After the tongue-lashing she had given him, he was determined to have the last word. He nudged his mount around and started loping smoothly back toward Victory.

As they neared town, he slowed his horse, and Brendan moved up to ride by his side. Cody saw that the older man was smirking at him knowingly, but he just shook his head and continued on toward civilization.

T
HEY ALL RETURNED TO
the boardinghouse together, Alex dreading the thought of having dinner in his company. Yes, she had perhaps spoken more harshly than she should have, but he had insulted her first, so really, it was all his fault. Levy quickly came over to tend to the horses, telling them that Cole Granger was inside pacing, after Dave’s horse had returned without him.

“Thank God you’re back!” Cole said as they trailed in. He immediately gave Alex a huge hug, and she hugged him back. She felt his heart pounding and knew he was especially grateful for her return. He went on to clap Dave on the back, and pump Brendan’s and Cody’s hands with enthusiasm. “I don’t mind telling you, I was terrified. After what happened last night, I couldn’t leave this town unprotected again, but when Dave’s horse came back…What happened?”

“Something spooked the horses,” Dave said. “And…I
think we have some kind of giant birds in the woods,” he added, shaking his head, knowing his words sounded irrational. “Giant birds—they got the wolves howling like I’ve never heard before, and then they started swooping down on us. Alex and I were barely holding our own, and—then Cody and Brendan found us.”

“Giant…birds?” Cole asked doubtfully.

“I swear, that’s what they seemed like. Giant birds—and I think they’re what’s killing everyone around here.”

Cole stared at the four of them.

“Cole,” Alex said, “I don’t know what was out there—but they flew, and they would have killed us.” She hesitated, trying to keep her voice level. “I think Cody hit one of them, but it flew off before it fell, and it was too dark under the trees for me to see anything. Finally they quit attacking us and we got out of there as fast as we could. So now…”

Her voice trailed off as Beulah, Bert and the girls came running in, kissing and hugging everyone with unbridled enthusiasm. Alex couldn’t help but notice that Cody had an awkward grin on his face, as if he were glad of the warmth being shown him on his return.

She remembered the bizarre dream she’d had about him, but insisted to herself that that was all it was, just a dream, nothing she needed to be concerned about.

But she couldn’t help being scared. Too often in the past, her dreams had been a forewarning of what was to come.

“All righty now,” Beulah said firmly once everyone’s return had been celebrated. “You folks get on to the dining room right now.”

“Not me, thank you, Beulah,” Cole said. “I called a
town meeting for just about an hour from now, and I ought to be getting over to the saloon to get ready for it.”

“We’ll all be going to the meeting, Cole Granger,” Beulah said firmly. “And you’ve still got to eat. Now, get in there, everyone, and don’t forget to wash up first. Then you’ll all eat a nice, civilized dinner, before we get back to making plans so we can stop being so afraid.”

No one was about to dispute Beulah when she was so determined, so Alex hurried upstairs to her room. Her washbowl had been filled, and it felt delicious to dip her hands into the cool water and scrub the dirt and sweat off her face. She didn’t have time to change, much less for what she wanted—needed—which was a bath. A long, hot bath. Maybe after the town meeting.

She hurried back to rejoin the others. Just as she left her room, Cody Fox emerged from his. He stiffened at the sight of her.

She stiffened in turn.

They stood that way for a split second, then he held out an arm politely. “After you, Miss Gordon.”

She nodded in acknowledgment of the courtesy and swept by him, but she felt him behind her every step of the way to the dining room.

Brendan had apparently washed up with Cole and Dave in the pantry, because all three men were already seated at the table. They rose quickly at the sight of Alex, who murmured a thank-you and took her place as Cole pulled out her chair for her. When he set his hands on her shoulders for a moment, she reached up and gave them a squeeze. He took the chair to her left, and Dave slid into the seat to her right. Cody and Brendan took the chairs across from them.

Beulah, Tess and Jewell served, hurrying back and forth with bowls and platters. Beulah had outdone herself, concocting a creamed chicken dish with tiny peas and onions, fresh sautéed greens, and a mound of mashed potatoes. Bert brought in water and wine.

Civilized.

Yes, it was an amazingly civilized dinner. Alex might have been dining in a fine mansion in Washington. They might have been planning to discuss the races, the weather, or even politics, in a measured and courteous manner.

In fact, at first they
were
quite courteous.

“Beulah, this is amazing,” Dave said as the cook hovered nearby, like a mother hen protecting her chicks.

“Thank you, Dave,” she said.

“This is truly a fine meal,” Cody told her. “Thank you.”

The words were perfectly innocuous, Alex thought. So why did she want to hit him?

“Ditto,” Brendan said.

“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble, Beulah,” Dave said.

“Cooking took my mind off worrying about you,” Beulah told them.

“Miss Gordon,” Cody said, “would you kindly pass the peas?”

“I’d be delighted, Mr. Fox,” she assured him, fighting to keep herself from throwing the bowl across the table at him.

After that they ate in silence for a while, until Cody—of course it would be Cody, she thought—brought reality crashing back in.

“Pardon me for asking, Cole,” he said, staring intently across the table at the sheriff, “but just what do you intend to say at the meeting tonight?”

Cole set his fork down, seeming a bit startled. “Well, I’m going to point out that these outlaws are now making a play for Victory. We didn’t see what was happening when they went in and destroyed Brigsby and Hollow Tree. God knows what they’ve done to all the people, if they’ve fled, or if they’ve been—” He broke off and hesitated, looking around, clearly uncomfortable. Alex knew that Cole had been raised to believe that certain conversation was indelicate and not for the company of women.

“Cole,” Alex said quietly, “is ‘slaughtered,’ or maybe ‘massacred,’ the word you’re looking for?”

He looked down, sighing. “All right, Alex, I guess I do have to speak plainly. Slaughtered,” he said, then turned back to Cody. “And what scares me most is that I wasn’t here when they attacked Victory, and this whole town might have been lost if you and Brendan hadn’t been here. Tonight I’m going to tell people that they can’t be cowards. We have to fight together, we have to look out for one another.”

Cody nodded. “It’s a good start, but it isn’t going to be enough.”

Alex felt another surge of irritation rise. Was it because he had no right to lecture Cole, who had lived here all his life? Or because, dream or no, she was fascinated by him—and afraid at the same time…?

“Mr. Fox, as I’ve said, we’re all extremely grateful to you and Mr. Vincent. But Cole is an excellent sheriff and a very courageous man,” she said.

Not only didn’t Cody take offense, he didn’t even glance her way, only grinned at Cole. “I don’t doubt that. In a pinch, Sheriff, you’re one man I’d like fighting at my side. But I’m afraid that Miss Gordon isn’t likely to under
stand what I’m about to say. And I’m rather afraid, as well, that if I stand up at your town meeting and try to explain what’s going on around here, a few folks are going to know in their hearts that I’m right, but all the rest are going to tell you that I’m a madman.”

“I’m lost myself,” Cole said. “What on earth are you getting at?”

Cody looked across the table to the corner of the dining room where Beulah stood, half hidden by shadows.

“Beulah knows,” he said softly. “And I’m certain that Tess and Jewell believe, as well. This boardinghouse has been protected, not just decorated. The garlic fronds, and all those fine crosses.”

Cody glanced at Brendan, then went on. “We are facing true evil here. Those men are not just outlaws. Not all of them, anyway. Some are…diseased. The disease is terrifying and transmissible. Sometimes it’s transferred by an act of pure terror, sometimes through seduction. Sometimes, rarely, if a person has only just contracted the disease, they can be cured. But there is a point of no return, and it comes quickly.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Alex demanded bluntly.

“What you and Dave saw in the woods tonight—I did bring something down with an arrow, something against which your bullets were worthless,” Cody said. “We’re fighting an ancient evil, something unlike anything you’ve ever faced before that can be fought only with specific weapons, kept at bay only by specific precautions.”

“What weapons?” Cole asked. “What precautions?”

“The weapons are arrows, stakes, knives and swords. And holy water, but you don’t seem to have much of that
around here, though I have a small supply. And the precautions—let no one in. No one. The enemy can enter only if asked.”

“This is insane,” Alex said. “Do you think I asked those men in last night?”

Cody shook his head patiently. “This is a boardinghouse. Open to the public, just as the saloon is. Such places need more protection than anywhere else.”

“This evil?” Dave asked. “Does it have a name?”

Silence fell as Cody met each of their eyes in turn.

“Vampires,” he said at last.

“H
ERE, HERE, NOW
!” Cole roared out above the din in the saloon.

Alex, sitting in the front row, sat back and sighed. Cole was getting irritated, while Cody, standing beside him, remained impassive.

It was just as Cody had expected. Half the town already believed that something evil and beyond anything they had ever thought of as normal was going on.

The other half thought the first half was crazy.

She saw Jim Green, the photographer and undertaker, who had insisted Cody lop the head off the corpse the night before, sitting quietly, as if oblivious to the commotion going on around him. Others, men and women, husbands and wives, friends, associates, and would-be lovers, were all arguing with one another at the tops of their voices.

“I suggest you all shut up and listen,” Cody said suddenly. He didn’t shout, but his voice rose above the sound of the crowd. “Your lives are at stake.”

Silence fell. People stopped speaking and stared at him as if they’d been frozen in place. It would have been comical if the situation hadn’t been so dire.

Of course, the whole meeting had been bizarre from the onset. It was taking place in the saloon—the brothel. Most
of the women, the “ladies” of the town, were respectfully garbed, many in homespun cotton, their necklines high, shawls around their shoulders against the evening chill. The saloon girls, however, were in their working attire: dance hall dresses, plumed hats and very,
very
low décolletage. One woman—a blonde Alex hadn’t met yet, a bit older than the others—was obviously wearing nothing more than a corset and garter belt beneath the velvet robe she had wrapped loosely around herself.

“The Yankees brought this down on us!” someone yelled. “They couldn’t beat the Southern boys, so they came up with this instead….”

Cody’s look changed to one of such incredulity that the room fell silent again. “The Yankees did not bring this down on us. But since there
is
a war in progress, and Texas is a Southern state, we have to realize that there will be no U.S. troops rushing down to help us, and the Confederacy hasn’t a man to spare. But that doesn’t matter. Whether you want to believe my words or not, I suggest you listen to what I have to say. Learn how to fight what we’re up against. Never invite a stranger into your place—and be careful even when inviting friends in. Beware of changes in people’s behavior, and above all, beware of dreams. Loved ones may come to you, trying to coax you out in the open. Don’t go. Fortify your houses with garlic and crosses. And remember—”

“Are you saying those bandits are…vampires?” someone interrupted suddenly. Alex looked around the room and saw that it was the blonde in the robe she had noticed before.

“Not all of them, but I believe that, yes, some are. Vampires need the help of the living, because they are
weak by day. They draw their strength from darkness and shadows and, of course, the blood of the living,” Cody said.

The uproar started all over again.

Cody continued to speak, his voice once again ringing loud and clear above the din. “Bullets will wound them, but not kill them. To destroy this enemy, sever the head, and either impale the heart or cut it out.”

“Oh, God!”

Mrs. Madry, a widow who ran a small dress and tailor shop on the main street, cried out—and then swooned.

The men rushed around her.

But not one of them chastised Cody for indelicate speech.

“Lock your houses at night,” he went on. “Stay in after dark. Hone stakes and keep them nearby so you’re prepared for an attack. You can make stakes out of broom handles, rake handles, anything wooden. Gentlemen, practice your archery. Solid, sharp-tipped arrows well aimed can maim and even kill. Holy water—should you have any—is a premier weapon. It scalds and blisters the vampire’s skin. If a known vampire doesn’t react, that means he—or she,” he added, his experience in New Orleans still fresh in his mind, “hasn’t yet crossed the divide. It means he hasn’t yet died and returned, and that there is a chance for his salvation.”

The blond saloon girl spoke again.

“Is there any such thing as a good vampire?” she asked sweetly.

To Alex’s surprise, Cody hesitated. “Not that I’ve come across,” he said at last. “Certainly not Milo and his gang. It’s a question I can’t really answer, but for now, remember
Brigsby and Hollow Tree. We all have to assume that anyone bearing the taint of vampirism is evil, and out to devour everyone around them.” He paused and stared from person to person around the room.

“It’s night now, and while you’re all welcome to ponder my words, to believe or disbelieve everything I’ve said, whatever else you do, lock your doors—and prepare to fight.”

He nodded to Cole, then walked toward the back of the room, where Brendan was leaning against the wall near the door—as if standing sentinel, ensuring that only those who’d been invited could enter.

“That’s it, folks,” Cole said. “Either Deputy Hinton or I will be in town at all times. Tomorrow we’ll all start practicing our archery and taking shifts patrolling the streets in pairs. I’ll have a schedule drawn up by ten.”

The blonde stood. “What do you think about this ridiculous theory about vampires, Sheriff?” she asked.

“I think that Cody Fox and Brendan Vincent were the salvation of this town last night, and I’m willing to follow their directions until proved wrong,” Cole said.

Alex found her eyes straying to the back of the room and Cody Fox. He was far too lean and rugged-looking to be considered beautiful, she thought. And yet, in her eyes, he was. His beauty was in his stance, his strength of character and his eyes, golden and hypnotic.

Too bad he was crazy.

She looked away.

Vampires?

She remembered peering into the mortuary last night, seeing the head of the dead man.

Still…vampires?

She felt numb. She didn’t know what she believed. She herself had been arrested because of her visions. Most people didn’t believe in visions any more than they did in vampires.

She wished she could have a vision now. See the future, see…salvation. Or…

Damnation.

Beulah was coming for her, with Bert keeping pace at her side.

“Come on, Miss Alex,” the older woman said. “We’re going to get inside right now and lock up, just like Cody said to. It may be a boardinghouse—but we’re not letting any strangers in tonight, no sirree.”

Alex rose to accompany her. At the door they met up with Levy, Jewell, Tess—and Cody and Brendan.

“Come on, all together now,” Beulah said firmly.

“Yes, ma’am,” Brendan said, grinning and tipping his hat to her.

As they walked, Alex caught Beulah’s arm and leaned close to ask, “Who was that, Beulah? The blonde who kept speaking?”

Beulah started. “Oh, child, that’s right. You don’t know.”

“Don’t know what? Who is she?”

“That’s your step-ma, Alex. Mrs. Linda Gordon. Looks like she made it back into town—and the saloon—just in time for the town meeting.”

“T
HINK IT WAS TOO SOON
?” Brendan asked Cody as they sat alone in the dining room. Having secured the boardinghouse for the night, they were sipping Beulah’s coffee, laced with good shots of whiskey.

“Probably,” Cody said, “but after today…Tall Feather is an Apache, and they believe in a ghost world, but even he didn’t know how to prevent that young warrior from coming back to take his daughter. Now he will. Next time the townspeople here will conduct a more organized battle when Milo roars into town. Trouble is, we both know that there may be…folks out there who are tainted. Friends and relatives from those other towns who may be able to infiltrate here. Not everyone believes what I said tonight, but at least those who do will be on the lookout.”

Brendan turned away, nodding, and Cody winced. They were here because Brendan hailed from Hollow Tree.

“I’m sorry,” Cody said.

Brendan’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, and turned back.

“We’ll stop it. We’ll put an end to it.” He shook his head. “I’m not even looking for revenge. I simply want justice, and a return to a world of sanity.” He let out a long sigh. “There’s been too much insanity. This war…I joined up with the Union because I thought it was the right thing, even though I was from the South. Sorry—I know you’re a Reb.”

Cody shook his head ruefully. “I’m done with war, that’s what I am. I grew up in a city where there were free men of every color, and good and bad doesn’t have anything to do with the color of someone’s skin. Slavery is wrong, no matter how you look at it. States’ rights to make choices, well, that’s another issue. It doesn’t matter to me, though, because I was telling the truth when I said I’m done with war. I went to Harvard, I’m a doctor. I’d like to get into healing again, rather than killing. But…I guess we have to save folks before we can heal them.”

He rose, gave Brendan a squeeze on the shoulder and started for the stairs. He had a feeling that Brendan needed some time alone.

Cody went on up the stairs feeling exhausted. It had been a long day. And a perplexing one. His mother had lived in Victory—or on her property not far from town, anyway—years ago, and then something had happened. She had always called it
the night of the wolves
.

But he knew—or at least he was pretty damned sure—what had happened.

So why had so many years gone by before things had gotten to this point, where whole towns were being attacked and wiped off the map?

As he neared the second landing, he felt a change in the air. Subtle, but there. He hesitated. He might be wrong.

But this wasn’t the time to take chances.

He strode down the hall and threw open Alex Gordon’s bedroom door.

The French doors to the balcony were open, the curtains billowing inward with the breeze. Alex, clad in a shimmering white nightgown, was standing out on the balcony. The night air lifted the gown so that it danced around her ankles, then fell back to hug her body. Her hair waved softly behind her, glowing in the moonlight.

He went to her as quickly and quietly as he could, then stopped behind her. Just then she lifted her arms, as if embracing the wind or perhaps something she saw within it, whatever power of matter and mind that was calling to her.

He was just in time.

“Alex!” he said sharply.

She didn’t even seem to hear him.

He slipped his arms around her, pulling her back. She was compliant, as if she had no strength left, as he lifted her into his arms, then closed the doors carefully, rearranging the strings of garlic around them.

Garlic couldn’t keep her inside, and it didn’t even work to keep all vampires out, being most effective against the young.

But something told him it was no young vampire coming after Alexandra Gordon, though from what Brendan had told him and what he’d seen the other night, Milo did like to send his underlings to carry out his orders. Especially if he sensed danger to himself.

He carried Alex to her bed and laid her down. Her eyes were open, though still a little glassy. She smiled at him, a beautiful, full-blown, seductive smile. Irresistibly erotic. She squirmed on the bed, arching her back, thrusting her hips.

Her gown was far too thin.

And then she wrapped her arms around him.

Her eyes were open, but she was in a trance of some sort, he thought. Hypnotized, seduced—definitely not awake and conscious and acting of her own free will.

And her arms were still around him.

Tempting, so tempting…

“Alex, go to sleep,” he said.

Her arms tightened and she drew him downward. He tried to keep his balance, but as he braced himself, his hand brushed her skin, and then her breast. He was made of flesh and blood, just like any man, and a jolt went through him, wicked lightning, an arousal like nothing he had felt in years…or maybe forever.

He straightened quickly. He was who he was, and he
was on a mission. And if she couldn’t accept the truth he told her about others—she was certainly never going to understand who he was.

What
he was.

Swallowing hard, clenching his jaw, he straightened. “Alex, you need to sleep. I’ll be right next door to keep you safe.”

He made it to the foot of the bed, then paused, looking down at her. Her eyes had closed. The strength of his will had penetrated her mind. In this, at least, he was more powerful than Milo.

He couldn’t help but linger for a moment. She looked like a princess from some fairy tale, caught in the pale moonlight that sifted through the fabric of the drapes. Her hair was strewn about the pillow, and though her expression was angelic, her body, every curve outlined by the delicate white fabric of her nightgown, was anything but.

He turned away and opened the connecting door to his own room. After a long last look, he stepped through and lay down, fully clothed, on his own mattress. When at last he slept, it was only lightly. True, he needed rest.

But he needed to listen more.

Alex believed that she was strong. And she
was
a fighter, beyond a doubt. She just didn’t yet know how to fight a battle that had been begun without her knowledge against an enemy she didn’t even believe in.