Eyes on the horizon. You spend a lot of time like that before a heist. Most outlaws never talk about that part. All the waiting.

  I always enjoyed the calm before the storm. The way I could feel my pulse in my fingertips. Now I’m not an anxious man by any means, but you aren’t sane if you feel nothing before riding out to meet iron with iron.

  The man next to me, however, was a dozen shades of maniac. To this day, I ain’t sure if Ace Ryker got nervous before a big job or not. He never had a tell.

  “There’s too many ways for a man to win for a man to lose,” he’d always say.

  I suppose he was correct in a loose sense. If you planned things right, had enough contingencies in play, you were gonna succeed. At least that’s what Ace made us think. We’d always have a Plan B, which should’ve been a good indication the first one wasn’t very good to begin with.

  “They’re late,” Ace grumbled. His eyes went to his gold timepiece then back to the horizon. A dirt road ran around a ridge across a low valley north of our position. An armored stagecoach conveying all sorts of valuables was scheduled to be skirting around it any moment.

  “They’ll be here,” I assured him.

  “Better be. Unless someone ratted.” His dark gaze fell upon me. Even though I was innocent, it gave me a shiver. When Ace smelled a rat… Woo boy, that was never a pleasant time amongst the Scuttlers. Someone always found themselves at the wrong end of a noose.

  “Watch that look, Ace.” I stayed stern. I’d found that was the best way to be in these situations. Push back on him. Never act skittish. He often mistook fear for guilt.

  Ace kept fixated on me for a few seconds, then sneered. “Nah, you’re alright, Crowley. Loyal like a hound.” He gave my shoulder a firm tug.

  I grunted in acknowledgement. He always had a way of making compliments insults, though I’d gotten used to it. Ace filled our pockets. Kept us fed, sheltered, and most of all… busy. There’s nothing more dangerous in the West than idle hands.

  “Who do you think it’d be?” Ace asked.

  “What?”

  “You know. If any of ’em was gonna turncoat.”

  “Hell, I don’t know, Ace. I just shoot when you say aim.”

  “Nah.” He clicked his tongue. “You pay attention, Crowley, more than you let on. I can tell. You hear things at night around the piss pot. Men who listen like you have trouble sleeping. I know it.”

  “I sleep like a drunk baby.”

  “C’mon, who’d you put your money on?”

  I exhaled through clenched teeth. “I ain’t a rat.”

  He laughed. “Fair enough. Fair enough. See, you’re smarter than you look.”

  Everything was a test with him; seemed that way by any rate. Nowadays, I see it for what it was. Ace kept his distance from the rest of us in that way because we were all cannon fodder. Easier to move on from peons than brothers-at-arms when one takes a bullet.

  “I’d put a fat twenty on Big Davey,” Ace said.

  My heart skipped a beat. Did he know something? Of all the Scuttlers, me and Davey were the closest. Joined up about the same time and had the same number of birthdays behind us.

  “No way in hell,” I replied. “Damn good with a rifle, but Davey’s a teddy bear.”

  “Yeah, true. I just would wanna hear how loud it’d be when he falls.” He snickered.

  Unsure how to answer, I kept quiet and continued watching the ridge. A bit of dust kicked up and I tensed. Then a deer skittered out and across the brush.

  “What’s wrong, Crowley?” Ace asked after a short silence. I guess my face betrayed my emotions.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “You look like you swallowed shit and here we are talking about traitors. Spill it.”

  “Seriously, it’s—”

  The hammer on Ace’s Le Mat clicked. I felt the barrel tousling through my hair before I noticed him aiming at my head in my peripherals.

  I swallowed a lump in my throat. Shit, he’d heard something. I’d complained too loudly last time we holed up in a saloon. Ace had gotten too handsy with some locals. I’d imbibed a little too heartily. Referred to him with some foul words I couldn’t quite recall.

  But was it a crime to voice your annoyance about some of what your boss gets up to?

  To Ace, maybe that was enough.

  Then he chuckled and lowered his aim to the dirt.

  “Don’t make me force you, Crowley,” he said. “I’ve known you since you was a runt. I know when something’s eating at you.”

  “It’s just…” I sighed. Says a lot that he could aim a gun at my head for fun and I could shrug it off so quick, but I did. The truth was, I had been thinking too much those days.

  “Where does this end?” I asked.

  “Simple. We get some scratch; we spend it however we please.”

  “No. Not this job. I mean, everything. The Scuttlers. When does it end? When do we cash in all we got stashed and settle?”

  “Settle?” He scoffed. “You some kinda fuckin’ pilgrim?”

  “You know what I mean, Ace. We keep at this, eventually it’ll bite us. You can only steal so much. And with these new Pinkertons moving out—”

  “I ain’t afraid of them Yanks.”

  “I know, but—”

  “No buts, Crowley.” He used his revolver like a pointer finger. “You listen to me. They’re sent out here in the name of law and order, but that’s horseshit. They’re coming to muzzle men like us so the rich folk can lay train tracks. Men who take the living they want. Who live free on this here Earth. And you know why?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Because this, out here? It’s primal,” he went on. “It’s the way we were meant to live. Winner takes all. Strongest at the top. We’re predators, Crowley. And that means we gotta eat. It ain’t a sin. It’s our goddamned nature.”

  Just then, I saw the glint of an arrow racing up into the air from atop the ridge across the valley. That was the signal. More dust billowed at the edge of the road. The stagecoach was coming.

  Ace caught my attention and winked. “Here we go. Time to fill our bellies.”

  A stick of dynamite handled the rest for us, courtesy of Big Davey. A chunk of the ridge above the trail broke off. Rocks sloughed down. Horses neighed as they swerved to dodge the rockslide. The coach might have avoided crashing, but it tipped over off the side of the trail. Just how we wanted them. Exposed and out of sorts, with all their valuables intact.

  Ace put his fingers to his lips and whistled so loud, it echoed. Then he spurred his horse along, gun out and ready to start shooting. All along our hill, the other Scuttlers came pouring out like wild men.

  I paused. For a fleeting moment, I thought about getting away. A farm farther out toward the Golden Coast, as they called it. A couple cows. Maybe find a wife. Pop out a few little Crowleys.

  Then I took a shallow breath, pulled my Peacemakers, and chased after our fearless leader…

  * * *

  I had to admit, these kinds of hijinks brought back memories of my outlaw days.

  Only difference is I wasn’t running with a crew I’d known for years. This wasn’t a stagecoach. This was more akin to piling into a hideout and shooting a rival crew full of lead.

  Sometimes, a job requires more than just kicking down doors and stomping new assholes. Sometimes it requires blowing a big fucking hole in the side of a building—then stomping new assholes.

  Storyville was relatively quiet this early in the morning. If you were still in this part of town now, that meant you’d been awake all-night partying or carousing.

  I, however, was here for neither such thing. Tourmaline was inside her brothel, feeding off innocents, and with a brood of vampires and werewolves protecting her. Hence hitting in the morning, when the latter weren’t turned and the former couldn’t risk the sun.

  It was time to tear down the kingdom.

  If Chapelwaite played his role right, she wouldn’t know what hit her.

  I stood just off the road. Unlike other parts of Crescent City, here, the streets were still dirt. Storyville was an up-and-coming part of town, the government just now getting their grungy fingertips under the surface so they could tax and levy the bejeezus out of everyone.

  Just beside me, a smaller structure was filled with pottery and clay artwork. By the size of the place, looked like they did a fair amount of business. And though I couldn’t be distracted by such trivial things, they really did fine work.

  Across from me, a building that doubled as a telegraph office and a money lender rose three stories above street level. In the alley beside it, a handful of local officers lay in wait. Chapelwaite had rallied whoever he could get to help raid the Arlington House, claiming he had evidence that the senator was there.

  Not everyone showed. Not even the district’s sheriff. I imagine Tourmaline kept the pockets of many law enforcement officers lined in exchange for turning a blind eye to her dealings. Rougarou too. Which was fine. No doubt one crooked cop would leak news of the coming raid, and I wanted any civilians out of the place for what was to come.

  A couple extra guns on our side with a taste for righteousness over bribes? That only helped. They knew what they were getting into—sorta—and unlike my benefactors, choice was all I could offer.

  At the corner of the street, diagonally adjacent to the telegrapher’s, the Arlington House stood like a four-story beacon of sin, calling all those with bigger dicks than brains to come in for just a little taste. Problem was, anyone answering that call would get more than they paid for.

  Running down the center of the road was a set of tracks. Though these weren’t as big and sturdy as the train rails back west, they did a fine job carrying Crescent City’s famous trams around town. Was a fun and unique way to see the place or travel long distances in a city where horses were becoming less common.

  Come to think of it, where was Timp? Poor girl was probably still waiting for my promised whistle, which I’d been too distracted to offer. She was better off not involved in all this craziness anyway. I owed her a bushel of apples when this was through—and a nice combing.

  My position was just beyond view from any of the brothel widows. In the distance, silhouetted against the rising sun, the tram approached. A dark figure hung out the side, waving at me like an idiot.

  Foolish-looking or not, it was the sign the tram cart was empty except for the US Marshal.

  It neared at a quick clip. Everything was ready. A rapidly assembled plan, but sometimes those are the best kind. You overthink a job and more than likely your brains wind up scrambled from a stray bullet.

  Improvisation. That’s what keeps the West free and running.

  My gaze hovered upon the brothel, watching the human guards. I couldn’t help wonder what they were thinking, getting mixed up in this kind of business. Then again, I hadn’t thought much about that kind of thing when Ace was handing out gold bars either.

  I registered movement behind me. I spun, pistol raised.

  “Whoa, there!” Chapelwaite said, out of breath.

  As planned, he’d leaped off the tram and hoofed his way to me. I lowered the weapon.

  “Don’t be a sneak,” I growled.

  “Did you want me to announce myself?” he asked.

  “What the hell is that?” I asked, pointing to a sword hilt where a sidearm should’ve been.

  “You do things your way. I’ll do things mine,” he said.

  I grunted and turned back to the Arlington. The bearded human guards out front—or more than likely, werewolves in human form—were totally unaware of their soon-to-come fate.

  “Rails handled?” he asked.

  “Whose plan was this?” I replied.

  “Don’t gotta be a prick about it.” He shared a glance with one of his men by the telegrapher’s. The lawman nodded, confirming he and the others were ready in waiting.

  “Here it comes,” Chapelwaite whispered.

  The steady rhythm of the empty tram whipped by. Then, with a kerchunk, it dislodged from the track, all according to plan—an old trick, slipping a thin sheet of metal on the track. Flipping onto its side, it rolled, catching air before plowing into the ground-floor level of the Arlington.

  The two guards didn’t even have time to react before getting squashed like summer melons.

  “You sure know how to make an entrance,” Chapelwaite commented.

  Mere seconds passed before screaming people—mostly staff and scantily-clad women—started pouring out like a ruffled ant mound. I recognized Lady Arlington with them, urging everyone out, so only non-humans remained.

  Not Tourmaline or her brood, though. Not with the sun making its first appearance of the day.

  Just as the chaos of the mass exodus subsided, a portion of the second-story balcony collapsed, sending splinters flying and dust billowing.

  Still, no Tourmaline.

  That was okay. If she was inside, we’d suss her out. If not, we’d send a message pointed like a dagger.

  I stepped out from concealment and strode forward, Peacemakers drawn and at my side.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” I sang, using Roo’s own taunt.

  The bullet chambered in my right hand was standard iron and I pulled the trigger, sending it into the dirt. The echoing boom punctuated my command.

  In response, a cluster of pale-skinned vampires came almost literally crawling from the rubble. Others were already skulking within the rest of the Arlington House, cracked open like an egg now so I could see all the way through the first floor. They stayed within the shadow provided by the immense structure. Accompanying them, I recognized some of Roo’s pack from earlier in human form. Several perched atop the crashed tram and the others paused not far off.

  Then, from behind his men, human Roo himself appeared at the back of the foyer by the stairs. He wore that same pinstriped fitted suit that I’d seen him in earlier. In one hand, he calmly puffed on a cigar. With the other, he gripped my own rifle.

  Perfect.

  He cackled. “I knew you’d try something flashy, cowboy.”

  “Fine choice of words,” I shouted.

  I gave a signal to Chapelwaite’s boys. The copper whistled and a small torch lit on the telegrapher’s rooftop. Then, it came soaring to land unimpressively beside the tram.

  Roo glanced over at the dithering flame. “You plan to smoke us out, Crowley?”

  “Not quite,” I admitted. I gave him a curt wave. “Goodbye, Roo.”

  He laughed again, but this time, it was cut short as the shady refuge exploded into a mixture of fire and glitter. Chapelwaite and I ducked behind a feeding trough as a stick of silver-filled dynamite blew.

  Chapelwaite had been successful in commandeering a few sticks of the stuff, and the silver I’d gotten from Laveau worked nicely when shaved and packed along with the gunpowder.

  “I’ll give it to Ace, that sure is a satisfying sound,” I said.

  Chapelwaite just shook his head.

  Once I was sure all the flying fragments had settled, I stepped out and walked toward the scene. Civilians still around Storyville went into a panic and fled. A crash and a gunshot, that was nothing out of the ordinary in a place like this. A deafening explosion? That’s a universal warning to get the hell out.

  The screams as werewolves and vampires burned alive from the inside were unlike any sound I’ve ever heard. This would be a fair representation of the torments of Hell if the rumors were anything to go by.

  In fact, it sounded like a thousand souls rising up to meet their fates. Couldn’t even begin to think of what that would look like.

  Werewolves aren’t exactly Nephilim. They aren’t the spawn of Satan, and clearly, if Judas’ story about Azrael could be believed, there was a spark of Divinity in vampires. Sickening to think about, really.

  As I approached the flaming wreckage, I saw movement. Then heard a familiar cackle.

  “Can’t be rid of me so easy, cowboy.”

  Roo threw aside one of his men who’d absorbed the blast for him. Somehow still alive, he crawled for my rifle, his suit singed off in places and covered in grime. His face so gray with ash, it may as well have been his fur.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  I raised my pistol, sight locked right on his black heart.

  That was when a brutal, agonized cry pealed through the air. I looked up, just for a moment, to follow the sound. The lawman who’d thrown the torch was airborne and falling fast. Where he’d just been, one of Roo’s grizzly men stood, howling even though he was in human form.

  But I ain’t stupid. I had Roo dead to rights, and when you’ve got an enemy in that position, you take it. However, when I turned back to put the old dog down, he was gone.

  “Goddammit!” I shouted. “Everyone, follow me.”

  Chapelwaite didn’t hesitate, but at the sight of their colleague plastered on the dirt street, the lawmen did.

  I was already stomping toward the brothel when Chapelwaite gave the order. “You’ve got a duty, boys. Don’t let this city down.”

  Footsteps hesitated to start up, but then, more and more, our small army started following.

  When we got to the brothel steps, the putrid aroma of burning flesh and metal was bad enough that even I could smell it. Charred corpses littered the front porch. The ashy remains of the vampires fluttered in the air.

  But I didn’t stop.

  “Roo!” I shouted, but no response came. “Tourmaline! This ends now!”

  The interior rose four stories high, mezzanine-style balconies wrapping the main lobby on all levels. It was still and quiet but for creaking wood and crackling flames. Where there’d been life just days ago—albeit a despicable excuse for life—now, only death remained.

  Smoke filled the room, but sharp movement near the back stuck out. I held up a hand for the others to halt.

  Suddenly, as if hit by thin air itself, I found myself flying. I landed behind the bar, some ten feet away, my guns no longer in my grip. Then Chapelwaite went airborne, and the other cops were also tossed around like rag dolls.

  All around me, the lawmen found themselves a step closer to the afterlife and I still hadn’t seen a single one of our attackers. Gunshots rang out every which way. These ordinary cops had no idea why their guns had been outfitted with such extraordinary bullets, but they should’ve been grateful for it.

  A vampire was struck in the crossfire, bursting into flame and steam from what had to be a direct hit to the chest or head.

  Then, it was over. Just like that. Silence.

  “What the hell is going on?” one officer asked, reaching for the strange, silvery ash hanging in the air.

  Something blurred in front of him. His words were quieted, replaced with a gurgle as his throat was slashed open.

  “Crowley!” a voice called out from somewhere. A voice I knew. “You want me. I’ll give you more than you can handle.”

  Tourmaline. I found her standing on the mezzanine of the fourth and topmost floor of her burning brothel.

  I rose slowly, taking my time and retrieving my weapons. No one stopped me.

  Several vampiric blurs converged on her position to protect her, returning from their onslaught. The lawmen were in a panicked frenzy, but still very much alive. They weren’t prepared for anything like this. To their credit, they had their rifles trained on Tourmaline.

  She was surrounded by a vampire army. Many had silver lodged in them from the dynamite, missing limbs or steaming. They huffed, in pain, but goddammit, they were ready to fight. Their veins bulged and their eyes went so dark, they barely looked to have ever been human at all. Starved. Feral. Monstrous.

  Tourmaline, on her part, was resplendent in a sheer red night dress, leaving absolutely nothing to a man’s creative faculties. A classic beauty. Her hair was split down the middle with pigtails pulled tight and braided over her shoulder.

  To my left, Chapelwaite stirred. Much as I disliked the man, he and his crew were my only allies in this war.

  “We’re just getting started, honey,” I said.

  “Looks like you blew your load a bit early,” she said. “Don’t worry. It happens to every man. I should know.”

  I raised both pistols and put a silver slug in the two vampires in front of her. They were dead shots, right through their chests like stakes. Together, they exploded into fiery clouds of dust.

  Their fellows shrieked, hissing, but dared not move until they got the command.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Tourmaline warned.

  “Really? I quite enjoyed it.”

  “Enough. End him!” she commanded.

  Now that I knew what I was looking for, following the vampires’ movements was easier. However, there were a dozen or so of them, and they were swift as young stallions with much less bulk. Our only fortune was that the explosion had knocked out swathes of the building’s front wall, letting in shafts of light they had to evade. And as fire and weakened structure damaged more of the building, more light came to our aid.

  Reminded me of the lasso’s light, calling down God’s judgment. Was this Shar’s half-assed show of support in our battle?

  Gunfire erupted all around me. Several shouts of “Check your fire!” resounded, but those men kept on shooting, only stopping to reload.

  I experienced the first strike as I sent a silver bullet toward a blur I’d targeted. My face swiveled to the left—a punch I hadn’t seen or felt. The strike caused me to miss the resulting shower of powdered vampire as I fired, but I knew the shot struck home. When I turned back to my attacker, it was gone, only for another to fill the position. She bore her fangs and let out a loud, shrill cry.

  I took two more blows and ducked under a third, using it as an opportunity to stow one of my pistols and pull my silver-dusted knife free of my boot. At such close range against such a quick enemy, I’d have better luck with a melee weapon.

  I brought it to bear in an upward arc that would’ve decapitated the female bloodsucker if it’d been a longer blade. Still, steam poured from the wound like a dam had been breached. Then I shoved a boot into her belly, pushing her out of the room and into the light where she was cooked alive. Saints and elders, did she let out a cry.

  Across the room, coppers fired their rifles up at vamps that appeared to be everywhere at once. I would’ve considered them superfluous if they hadn’t been so damn effective. Their efforts had more than a few of Tourmaline’s brood chicken-dancing to avoid being shot, and others floating on the air in a macabre burning dance.

  Chapelwaite was on his feet again, dazed but now wielding that long sword like a knight of old. The guy sure was skilled with a weapon I’d thought to be out of use for a hundred years or more. His long blade sliced the back of a vampire’s neck and its head rolled free. The vampire erupted into flaming detritus before the skull even thumped the ground.

  All of this I noted in less than the few seconds it took me to tag my next target. A male vamp that could’ve been someone’s grandfather in his previous life blazed toward me, diving down from the third floor. His jaw was unhinged like a snake set to devour.

  I slung my lasso upward at the staircase’s second-level railing and used it to pull myself over him just in time. As I landed, I took the liberty of filling the back of his head with a silver snack. The slug bit through his skull like wet paper.

  As things go in battles like this, I had no time to gloat.

  Another cry rose from my left. I turned to see Chapelwaite on his back, a pair of Roo’s goons on top of him, joining the fight. He batted one with the pommel of his sword but didn’t have the proper leverage to do any real damage.

  They were a tangle of limbs, making it difficult for me to put a bead on either without also risking danger to my ally who was twisting and writhing under their weight. I lassoed one of them around the neck to pull him off Chapelwaite, but a snarl from my side stole my attention and I missed.

  I turned and hip-fired, hoping instinct would be with me. It was, but the vampire had picked up a gold platter to guard its heart and the bullet glanced off. For the first time in my undead life, I hoped to see Shar swirling around in its reflection, but with Chapelwaite and his inverted cross necklace so close, I saw nothing but sparks and fire.

  The vampire hissed, eyes locked on me. This one was less veiny and terrifying than others. Maybe one of Tourmaline’s first born. Chunks of silver were lodged into its arm and steamed everywhere, no doubt causing it immeasurable pain.

  He barreled into me full bore and I lost grip on my lasso. I took the hit in stride, using the momentum to roll in a series of backward somersaults through a wall. That kind of raw power—like a locomotive—would’ve leveled a mortal flat. While I couldn’t feel anything, I had to assume at least a few of my ribs were broken.

  As I came up to shoot, my arm didn’t respond to the command my brain had given it. Instead, it hung limply at my side, a clear bend at the center of my forearm where no bones connected.

  Son of a bitch broke my arm.

  It would heal, and probably pretty quickly once I jammed it into place, but I didn’t have time for a handicap at present.

  As the thing leaped on me, I shoved my knife into its belly. I’d always learned never to bring a knife to a gunfight, but today, I was glad I had.

  It screeched like a sick goat, but this one was strong and didn’t back down. It ripped out the knife and threw it at me before charging again. Having no other choice, I did what I’d been taught best and improvised. I reached back and broke a candelabra off the wall. Holding the skinny end in front of me, the vampire ran straight through it, impaling itself.

  As the body crumbled to dust all around me, I noticed a fat little imp standing at the other end of the hall. Fazar.

  His eyes went wide. If he got to his cart, he could ride down to the Underdark and warn enough monsters to turn the tide. Maybe they weren’t all loyal to Tourmaline, but enough could be.

  “Don’t!” I called out.

  He didn’t listen. He went to run, and I threw the candelabra like a spear, two ends of it plunging through the wall and pinning him by his neck so he couldn’t move. He still tried, thrashing around like a fish out of water. His grunts sounded sexual in nature. Vile little thing.

  I took a moment to gather myself and snap my arm back into place before turning back to my allies. I scanned the ground for my knife, but a scream caught my attention. The lawmen still near the massive hole in the front of the building held their own as more vampires scaled the building’s inner walls down toward us. Reminded me of a scene straight out of an old medieval battle, only in reverse.

  Some of the cops smartly retreated back and into the sun, limiting their line of fire as a result.

  Chapelwaite, however, was in dire straits. It was his cry I’d heard. One of his two attackers had been thrown to the side, still alive with a back riddled with smoking bullet holes. Even in human form, werewolves can take more than an ordinary man. The other, however, still sat atop him with nothing good in mind.

  The werewolf man reared back to punch. I took the shot, turning that hand into a bloody fountain. He howled and glared at me. I hoped Chapelwaite realized the opportunity I’d just presented him with.

  Thankfully, he wasn’t as stupid as he looked.

  With the werewolf man distracted and off-balance, Chapelwaite had room to bring his blade around, and like death himself, he dragged it across the man’s chest. Still intent to prove himself as something other than a fool, Chapelwaite crab-crawled backward behind the bar and into relative safety—at least for the time being.

  I, too, considered myself somewhat of an intelligent man and fired off another round at the werewolf man’s center mass. That was it. That was the killing blow, sending old wolfie to meet Lucifer face-to-ugly-face.

  “You alright?” I called as Chapelwaite drove his blade into his second squirming attacker. He bent to retrieve my lasso. When he looked up, ready to respond, his eyes went wide.

  “Behind you!” he shouted.

  I spun to find myself paired up against yet another vampire. Seemed Tourmaline had pulled out all the stops. I saw her out of the corner of my eye, up high, smiling. Judas was right about her. These were beings she’d made—children of a sorts—pieces of her own heart. She appeared to enjoy watching them fight and die. Like chess pieces on a board. As if she could just whittle more out of their ashes.

  The vamp in front of me—this one also a woman in her mortal life—smiled. Where Tourmaline was the vision of beauty and elegance, this horror looked like she’d received the full force of that tram crash.

  Her face was flat as an iron, scars from ear to ear. What she’d done to earn those marks was a thought I wasn’t willing to entertain. When she grinned, her split lips revealed only the presence of those fanged canines. Apart from them, it was only empty, black abyss staring back at me.

  “You look like shit,” I told her.

  She sneered, only making her uglier.

  I brought my pistol up, but she was too fast for it.

  She and I traded punches until I found the opening I needed and drove a shoulder into her stomach. We intertwined like love bugs in July until we crashed through the bar. Bottles of expensive liquor tumbled and broke all around us. Staggering backward, I grabbed one and smashed it against the vamp’s head. It hardly fazed her.

  “I’m going to suck you dry,” she said.

  From anyone else, that kind of statement would have had my attention.

  “Prepare to be woefully disappointed,” I told her as I grabbed her throat with my one good hand and slammed my forehead against the bridge of her nose.

  Vampires might be immortal and super strong, but that flat schnoz shattered all the same. Didn’t stop her. She lurched forward and I was falling under her weight. Perhaps she looked to be ninety pounds soaking wet, but she drove me to the ground with enough raw power that I couldn’t stop it.

  “I don’t know what you are, but you’re dead,” she said. She pinned my good arm down while the other remained entirely inert at my side.

  I was about to make a snarky remark when she raised a clenched fist and there, in her bony hand, was my silver-dust knife in motion toward my heart.

  In the two decades since I’d overstayed my welcome on Earth, I hadn’t given a ton of thought to my mortality. Guess that’s a side effect of not being mortal. I’d experienced just about every sort of maiming imaginable, including, most recently, a broken arm and having my head chopped off.

  However, as this vampire was about to stab me with my own fucking knife, myriad thoughts flashed through my mind. Heaven, Hell, death, and the inevitable nothing I was destined to face were present among them, but truth be told, above all was Rosa.

  Goddamn me, but I simply couldn’t get that woman off my mind. She’d been living there free of charge since our reunion in Dead Acre.

  What would happen to her if this was it for me? Would she waste the rest of her life searching for a dead husband? And what would she do once she found out that wasn’t possible?

  Suddenly, my face was covered in blood, blinded by the sheer quantity of it. My mouth, which must’ve been open, filled with the stuff. I heard a thud, felt my body jerk to one side and my hand was free.

  I wiped my eyes with my sleeve and turned to see the vampire was gone, reduced to ash.

  “We’re even.” Chapelwaite flourished his blade, then turned to reenter the fight before the words even fully left his mouth.

  I rose, retrieved my knife and guns, and followed. As I ran, I discovered that my broken arm had fully mended itself—thank you, Shar. I stepped through the broken wood and glass, into a disaster zone. Ash from both the flaming buildings and eviscerated vampires was like fog in the air. Cinder and scorch marks marred the floor.

  “Tourmaline!” I shouted. “This ends now. Enough have died.”

  Even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. I wouldn’t be satisfied until every last one of these abominations tasted silver.

  She leaped down gracefully, as if she’d just stepped off a buggy and not fallen forty feet. She sauntered toward me through the wreckage, surrounded by the four remaining cops, no fear at all. Her army, though, was all but destroyed—yet there she was, walking as if she had the upper hand.

  Until I realized she did.

  I hadn’t even considered Roo in all the confusion. But as soon as I heard Timp’s fearful cry, it hit that they’d gotten me by the short hairs. I slowly turned to see Roo back in the street, rifle aimed at Timp’s head. She looked as if she’d put up a hell of a fight, but in the end, she was no match for him.

  “Tell what’s left of your men to stand down,” Tourmaline commanded.

  A rifle boomed, the only sound save the crackling fire. Faster than I thought possible, Tourmaline dodged the shot and grabbed one of the deputies. Her teeth sank into his throat, and ripped outward, spraying red everywhere.

  Blood rose like bile in the young man’s throat, then Tourmaline let him fall to the ground.

  “Hold your damn fire!” I yelled.

  “Finally, something intelligent from you,” Tourmaline said. “Now, where were we?” She snapped her fingers in Roo’s direction and he dragged Timp forward.

  “What’s the matter, cowboy?” Roo asked. “Wasn’t it just days ago you thought horse was a fine substitute for human flesh?”

  “You hurt her again, and I’ll—”

  Roo stretched out a finger and dragged his sharp nail along Timp’s back. I could see the blood mingling with her tawny fur.

  “Goddammit, Roo! What’s the play here?” I demanded.

  “Simple, really,” he said. “You surrender or she dies.”

  Timp whimpered softly. I could tell she had very little left in her. It was a pathetic sound, and it pissed me right the hell off.

  “Listen to him, Crowley,” Tourmaline said.

  I obeyed, sucking my teeth at the thought of being controlled by this whore mother. I didn’t put it past her to slaughter Timp after what she’d done to so many humans in this place.

  “Now that we understand the pecking order,” she said, “I think its high-time we have a little discussion. Guns down.”

  “Alright,” I said, dropping my pistols and raising my hands. I looked to my companions for them to do the same.

  “I must ask, did you find my maker?” she said, walking toward me, hips swaying.

  “Maybe. Maybe he’s already dead.”

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. You being here tells me one thing.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “He isn’t here, or he made you an offer,” she said, almost singing the words. “I know what happens to the children he deems expendable.”

  “You should know by now, I don’t make deals with the Devil.”

  “The truth, Crowley!” She stomped forward and screamed. “Your angels aren’t after me, so why else come?”

  “Justice, for one,” I said.

  “I’ll give you a choice.” She licked her lips, looking around to one of the few remaining lawmen. Poor sap had piss staining his pants and was shaking in his boots. I didn’t know his name, but I heard him begging under his breath.

  She moved toward him. “Fine-looking man,” she said. “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?” Her hand slid down to the man’s soaking wet privates, and I’m not sure what he was thinking, but his frown turned to a smile.

  “That’s enough, Tourmaline,” I said.

  “We’re just getting started, honey,” she said, repeating my warning. “They’ll die one by one, and then the wolves will eat your horse right in front of you, you—”

  “Time to die, false-child,” Chapelwaite spoke loudly. My eyes darted to his position, now on the second level of the mezzanine. His left hand clutched his upside-down cross against his chest. Tourmaline’s eyes went wide.

  “So, he is here…” she whispered.

  Chapelwaite gave me a determined look. I understood. Sometimes you find friends in the most unlikely of places.

  He raised his right hand and used my lasso to loop the foyer’s grand chandelier. He pulled, the weight snapping the mounting bracket of the chandelier and causing it to plummet.

  That was the grand heroic move of Judas’ right-hand man. Bringing down a chandelier like a damn cliche. Only took me a second to realize what he was playing at, though. The damage and the fire had done its job to weaken the building, and the weight of his tug brought more than just the light fixture down. A huge chunk of the roof collapsed, crumbling around us. Which caused yet more roof and structure to join it.

  Absolute chaos ensued.

  Tourmaline rushed away from the deputy in a mad attempt to not get caught in daylight. But it was too late for whoever he was. The chandelier turned him into a bloody pulp.

  Timp started going nuts outside, neighing and bucking, and Roo shouted warnings to her as if she understood him.

  I took the opportunity to kick my Peacemaker up off the ground with my boot. In a heartbeat, the tables had turned, and I had Tourmaline point-blank. Instead, I fired two precise rounds at Roo. The first hit his hand and knocked my Winchester out of his grasp so he couldn’t use it to hurt Timp. The second just missed splattering his brains, and shredded through the side of his face, pulverizing one eye and skinning off a chunk of his nose.

  I didn’t bother looking to see what happened. Timp was free and Roo was either dead or no longer an immediate threat.

  “Get her!” Chapelwaite shouted, already leaping from the second floor.

  Choosing to save Timp let Tourmaline get the jump on me. She clutched me by the collar and heaved me into the air. More ceiling gave out and a beam of light struck us.

  She wailed and tossed me aside out of reflex. Piano notes chimed as I crunched through the brothel’s baby grand.

  From somewhere, Tourmaline screamed in pain. I jumped up, spotting her trying to dart out of the light, but Chapelwaite landed beside her and slashed. She caught his sword, its silver burning her hand down to the bone.

  “Not even brave enough to come himself!” she screamed. She pulled the sword free and Chapelwaite fell closer. As she fried, her fangs extended.

  “You aren’t worth his time,” Chapelwaite spat. He yanked his upside-down cross free and jammed it into her eye. She roared.

  In the meantime, I scampered forward, grabbing hold of her dress, and pulled before she could rip him to pieces. As she spun, I ripped Chapelwaite’s sword free of her grip, turning it back on her, and stabbed it straight through her belly. We fell together, like lovers entwined. When we landed, the sword drove hilt-deep, pinning her to the floor in the middle of the sunlight.

  Her skin sizzled, bubbling and broiling. She screamed. I didn’t care. She’d earned the pain.

  “Senators, I could forgive,” I said. “The shit you did here? That wasn’t personal. But you brought my goddamned fucking horse into this!” I lifted my knife and drove it down into her chest, right above the heart and sliced down. She groaned, her face literally sloughing off in fiery ash.

  “He’ll turn on you too,” she said, starting to cackle. “This is what he does… Freedom…” She coughed. “There’s no such thing in a world of gods and men.”

  “You don’t deserve it anyway.” I reached into her chest and grabbed hold of her demon-infused heart. I pulled and that was the end of Lady Tourmaline.

  After a long second, I rolled onto my back and took a moment. There are more hues of exhaustion than physical, and watching Timp that close to dying had me feeling every shade. I turned my head. Timp was inches away, pounding her hooves and whinnying.

  Roo, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. Just what was left of his eye lying in the street. So much for loving Tourmaline. Wolves… only thing they’re good at is surviving.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m moving,” I said to Timp.

  She nudged my head, and eventually, I got to my feet and gathered all my belongings—lasso included—before following her out to the entry stoop where she or I wouldn’t be crushed if more of the brothel started falling.

  Chapelwaite guided the two remaining deputies out. The terror on their faces would never leave them. Probably drive them to madness.

  “Don’t scare me like that, girl,” I told Timp, touching my forehead to hers. “I’m sorry I didn’t call for you faster. Never again, okay?”

  She snorted.

  “How’d you let a fool like that catch you anyway?”

  Hooves tapped.

  “Had him right where you wanted, eh?”

  My beleaguered laugh was interrupted by Chapelwaite’s voice.

  “Keep back, everyone! Keep back!” he yelled, flashing his badge. A crowd had gathered around the brothel at a safe distance, civilians drawn to the chaos now that the shooting stopped. Everyone likes a free show.

  “Set a perimeter!” he ordered the two deputies. They blinked, dumbfounded. “Dammit, do your jobs!” They roused into action, though more enforcement numbers would surely be needed as the rest of the city woke up.

  Chapelwaite pulled me away from the building. “It will be difficult to explain this to the city officials.”

  “Went pretty smooth if you ask me,” I said.

  I glanced up at the Arlington. Most of the front of the structure was in shambles, parts still burning, more chunks cracking off. The back half where private rooms were located remained mostly intact, but God knows for how much longer. A lot of rich men and tourists were bound to be gravely disappointed.

  “Scour what’s left of it,” I said. “Somewhere in that heap, you’ll find something that belongs to the senator, I promise. Then you’ll be a national hero. That ought to help.”

  “Indeed, it will. Thank you, Crowley.” He extended an open palm. “Now, hand it over.”

  I held up Tourmaline’s heart, blood leaking out and down my wrist. Looked normal, except black veins crisscrossed it all over like a spiderweb. That, and despite it clearly being long-dead, the tissue behind it pulsed a glowing red.

  “Just like that?” I asked.

  He nodded. “He’ll find you, James Crowley.”

  “Everything on his terms,” I sighed. “And what if I decide to do Heaven’s bidding and kill him.”

  “You can try.”

  “What if I just decide to say no and walk away?”

  He smirked, nothing more. Then he took the heart from my hand, and I didn’t stop him. He wrapped it in a cloth and stowed it.

  “Whatever is to come, take solace that you have ridded this world of a true monster, regardless of how she started,” he said.

  “I won’t,” I said. “I’ll keep killing them and somehow more will pop up.”

  We exchanged one last solemn look, then he returned to the aid of the deputies. I took Timp’s reins and started walking her away, eager to avoid even more of a crowd. Those cowardice cops who hadn’t the balls to fight in the first place were trying to push through and help secure the area.

  I stopped to retrieve my Winchester from where Roo dropped it, and noticed Lady Arlington on her knees nearby, distraught as she watched a building either named after her or her family crumble.

  “I don’t know what you knew or helped with,” I said. “But sometimes it’s better off having no partners at all than ones you don’t really know.” She looked up at me, tears in her eyes. “If you get a second chance, be smarter.”

  Then Timp and I continued on our way. Might have been the blood and soot covering me head to toe and making me look like a zombie, but most everyone got out of my way. I crossed the tram tracks and headed for a bridge over the narrow canal.

  I noticed a couple wandering along the waterfront across the water, as if Hell hadn’t just broken loose in Crescent City. Ah, to be young and in love and see nothing except the lady two feet in front of you.

  It was a pale man and a tan woman, and the man appeared to have guzzled a bit too much of Satan’s tears. He stumbled along, while she appeared lucid as anyone at this hour should’ve been.

  I chuckled to myself. It was that same damn drunken businessman Chapelwaite had cockblocked last night. Looks like he’d finally found his Mexican…

  I squinted. If I had a beating heart, it probably would’ve stopped.

  “Rosa?”

  She was too far away to hear me, even if I screamed. But I had no doubt it was her. What the hell was she up to, hanging out in a place like this with someone soaked in suds?

  It was her business, sure, but I just couldn’t help myself. I could keep my distance—just make sure she was alright.

  Dammit, Rosa. So much for staying away.