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Red Moon In the West (Shiva the Cat/Vinaein)

Adam had cut a strong figure the night before when he stood silhouetted against the fire, but Rosemary had no way of knowing how strong he really was until he'd caught her in his arms and lifted her sharply upward, as though she weight no more as a feather. Instinctively her arms wound tight around his neck as her breasts crushed against his chest, and the feel of his powerful hands gripping at her behind made her squeal in pleasure and delight.

"Not very friendly..." His voice was husky, almost hungry to Rosie's ears, and before she could think of a retort he'd sealed her mouth again, leaving her lips swollen and parted in a daze when he finally pulled away.

Still, there was a playfully wicked glimmer still sparkling in the woman's eye, not quite extinguished in her own lust. "I wanted to see you all riled up, sweetness." The words were barely audible beneath the sighs as she tilted her neck in offering. "You were so calm before...are you always calm?"

She sure wasn't, that was for certain. The gambler had been trying to wriggle herself down onto his cock for minutes now, her nipples rubbing maddeningly against his skin while his firm grasp kept her slit from doing anything more than kissing the tip. Rosie had even circled her legs around Adam's waist in a hope of gaining a leverage, but it was only at his own whim when he finally entered her. Her eyes drifted shut as a low moan escaped her lips, feeling her walls slowly but surely stretching to admit him until he was buried to the hilt.

Rosemary's name on his breath only added to the pleasure, sliding into the recesses of her mind as surely as she felt him beginning to slide in and out of her. God he was handsome now that she looked at him up close, resting her forehead lightly against his. He must have had his share of women well before she came along. How else was he managing to fuck her so well, standing in the middle of the room holding onto nothing but her own body? Granted her own legs were doing a little bit of the work, tensing tight around him ever time she pulled him deeper, but his balance was astounding.

At the risk of throwing it off and sending them both crashing into the tub beside them, Rosie began to quicken her pace, rocking her hips a little faster as she felt her own crescendo approaching. Her nails dug more fiercely into Adam's back, leaving deep crescent-shaped marks in his skin, while her mouth found a spot in the crook of his neck, biting and suckling until she had left another symbol of her presence behind.

Only moments now...only a few more well-timed thrusts, and that would be the end of her...
 
Rosemary was a fine figure, even covered with the dust of the trail, even wrapped in her normal clothing and common attire. But OUT of it...oh, gods above, oh Fenrir and Loki, she was something incredible. Holding her against him, he felt the soft press of her breasts, the warmth of her skin as he entered her. And below, she was so wet, so hot and tight for him. He couldnt help but smile all the more to the press of her, the sheer fucking joy of it.

He nipped at her ear, fine teeth bracing on the skin of the lobe. "Wanna see me all riled up...?" She was teasing him...well, as they said in so many shops, caveat emptor. He grabbed tighter to her ass, her legs around him. "Not...nearly always..." he whispered as he thrust with his hips. The motions were hard now, his hips moving to hers as he kept the pace with this angle they were moving at. He kissed her again, to the neck as he drove himself deep within her. And she was gorgeous. Those eyes, that red hair, the body on her. And the sheer, unbelievable, unbridled passion as he drove himself inside her.

Oh, this was an effort they were sharing in together. He was digging his fingers into the swell of her ass. The brace of her nails brought a groan of passion from him. And he was not calm, far from it. He was burning with need, sliding her down, bringing her against the tub, shifting her so she was bent over it. And Adam was inside her from behind, head buried in her neck, hand tight within the red curtain of her hair, his hips pushing against her ass. He pulled her back, kissing her with all he had.

"This...riled enough...for ya?" He slid a hand between her legs, rubbing there to tease at her clit, pushing again with the desire to see her well and truly spent before he was through.
 
It didn't matter that she came while still in his arms. No matter how her inner walls pulsed around him, nor the squeeze of her thighs against his torso, or the moans that had risen into shrieks as Rosemary tossed her head back in pleasure, Adam still didn't stop. Was this revenge for how she'd left him on edge earlier, or was his stamina unconscious as he continued to move in her, seemingly unfazed her her release?

Thankfully, he did seem to recognize the temporary weakness in her limbs as she quivered against him, and without knowing exactly what was happening Rosie soon felt her feet on the smooth wood boards of the floor. If she thought it was over though, she was sorely mistaken. Her body was being turned and bent, until she could see her own lustful reflection in the surface of the bathwater. She couldn't help but blush furiously at the sight, and as she shut her eyes against it she suddenly felt Adam thrusting into her again with renewed vigor.

"This...riled enough...for ya?"

"Oh god yes!" Rosie shrieked as his hips slammed against her ass, sending the water rippling and sloshing over the edge. "Adam, please! Please, I can't bear it!" It was all rising up again, her hips jerking helplessly while her breasts heaved and swelled underneath her. She was completely at his mercy, the way he had her by the hair, and when she felt his fingers on her clit she was sure the entire hotel could hear her moans of response.

By god, what was this man that he could get her off a second time so quickly? Or was it merely all the pent up anguish inside her finally releasing in that most primal way, and was there too much of it to be finished at merely one peak? How many more would it take then, and would Adam withstand them all? Somehow, Rosemary was sure the answer to this last question was a resounding yes.
 
Adam was quite pleased this was new to neither him nor Rosemary. It was always better when you didn't need to worry about the other partner needing a lecture and demonstration on what needed doing between your bodies. When she flung back her head, he continued to drive himself into her, with full mastery of their bodies together. again and again, he brought their hips connecting, sliding deep as he could go within her.

When he put her down and pushed her over, he could see the pale form of her ass below him, the sight of his cock pushing into her with every thrust, his hips striking hard at her ass with each push. He could hear the sharp retort of skin to skin, the slap of his hips pounding against her ass. His hands roamed against her, squeezing her sides, her breasts, his fingers working her clit down below.

"Oh god yes!" She was crying out as he growled at her to hold on tight. He gave into the beast within and pushed himself harder into the slight body before him. Hard, rough, and deep, with his grip on her hair tightening. He tugged her head back, making her stare ahead with an arched back.

The way she cried out was impossibly enticing. He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing there....and he held himself back from the precipice. He wanted to tease her, wanted to see how far he could take her before he spent as well. Just...a bit...MORE.

"Cum for me again..." He whispered into her ear with a gentle little nip to the lobe.

"I ain't asking."
 
He was almost too rough for her, but she was so far gone already that the pain only pushed her closer to the edge. Rosie even tossed her head a little to make the pain of his hair pulls a little sharper, sucking her breath in before biting down hard on her lip. And fuck the feel of his teeth on her neck...he was marking her as surely as she'd marked him earlier. When they undoubtedly parted in the morning, both would be taking evidence of this impassioned tryst with them.

But morning was a thousand miles away. Now there was just Adam, and his cock filling every last inch of her, and his voice whispering that irresistible command. What choice did Rosemary have but to obey?

Her hands scrabbled helplessly against the arms that held her as the second wave came. It would take all of Adam's strength to keep a hold on the gambler's writhing, shaking body, and she could feel a liquid release rushing over the cock lodged inside her. Within moments her strength began to fail, and it was all Rosie could do to gasp and pant weakly against the bounty hunter, trusting him to hold her up.

"Adam..." she sighed, letting her head rest lightly on his shoulder. A slow, satisfied smile began to light up her face. "I had no idea how lucky I really was to have found you. Imagine if it had been someone like Sheriff Gregory down there?" Rosemary stuck out her tongue in disgust before giggling softly.

When the feeling began to creep back into her limbs, she leaned forward against to dip her fingers in the bathwater, finding it lukewarm to the touch now. "Suppose we ought to clean up?" Rosie asked, kissing his palm before stepping into the tub.
 
It had been too long and Adam's instincts were up. His body was inflamed, desire prmeating through every inch of him. He drove on, his striking her ass with a sharp retort. He was working in and out of her, over and over with deep, hard thrusts. Both might be spent and drained from this, his hand tightening in her hair as he set his teeth against her throat, sucking at the pale skin without care if he marked her.

When she came, the tremors from her body aroused him more than he imagined possible. He seized her, feeling the rush within her, the burst as he slammed himself once, twice, three times into the beautiful gambler. He buried inside her, pushed against her as he came hard. He finished into her, gasping her name, whispering it after as his face buried against her red hair. He held her, an arm around her waist, keeping her up and against him.

"How lucky was I...of all the horses in the world to steal...ya tried to steal mine...?" He kissed her back eagerly, grinning as he managed to stand, panting softly. "Bath seems...mighty fine now. Wash your back for you?" He offered with the same, playful handsome grin.
 
Rosemary chuckled as she carefully lowered herself into the bath. There was room for both of them, barely, if she sat between Adam's legs, and the only decent way to wash her hair was to drop a few handfuls of water on the top of her head and let it all run down. "I wasn't exactly spoiled for choice now, was I? My options were to either try for yours, or keep walking. What would you have done?"

There was a little cake of soap resting on the floor beside the tub, and she began to absentmindedly rub it over her skin, watching the dirt and dust melt away. She did glance down between her legs a few times, somewhat worried about the fact that Adam had finished inside of her. If he hadn't fucked her so thoroughly she might have been annoyed at what she hoped was an oversight on his part; she was hardly in a position to be raising a child at the moment (and probably not ever, if she was being honest). It wasn't the first time she'd had an accident of the sort with a lover, and thankfully Rosie had always been lucky enough to get her regular courses after. But she would have to have a conversation with the bounty hunter to avoid such missteps in the future.

What future? she asked herself as she began to rub the soap into her hair. They would share a bed tonight of course, unless Adam found better company in another room, but beyond that? Chances were after tomorrow morning, she would never see him again. Perhaps that was what had made their tryst so passionate, and why the gambler had rather enjoyed their marking one another. That was a proper memento to leave your lover after parting, not a child.

A sudden pounding on the suddenly jerked her out of her reverie. "Hey you!" a man's voice shouted behind the latched door. "Get the fuck out and let someone else have a turn for once! It's been more than an hour!"

"Guess we've overstayed our welcome," Rosemary chuckled, leaning back against him and enjoying the feel of his bare skin against hers for just a few more moments. But when the pounding started again she rose back out of the tub, fumbling for one of the scratchy towels and shouting a clipped "all right!" to the interloper.

It would have been nice to slip her clean body into a fresh set of clothes, but until she got another set that prospect seemed unlikely. Maybe in the morning she could see about getting a ready-to-wear or castoff dress somewhere in the town. Men's clothes were practical she knew, but she always felt more like herself in women's garb. As far as the man in the hall was concerned though, Rosie could have been stark naked and he still would have glared daggers at her as she crossed the hall back to their room (he did nudge Adam on the way out though, asking how the new girl was and if she was worth the cost).

"Well then," she sighed once they were both in the room, sitting down on the bed. "Are you in the mood for supper, or shall we just call it a night, Mr...?"

Rosemary paused, a peculiar expression crossing her face. "Golly," she finally laughed. "I just realized, I never learned your last name, Adam. I suppose considering what we just did, that doesn't look too well on my propriety does it?" Judging by the languid posture with which she reclined back against the pillows, it didn't seem to bother her too badly.
 
The deep sigh that escaped Adam's throat as the bath's warm water surrounded him was rich and deep, his eyes half closing as he murmured in happiness. "Mmm..." He said softly, his eye opening to rest upon Rosemary's glorious, naked form. The playful chuckle that escaped him was complemented by a smirk. "I wasn't complaining now...you did sure cozy up quick to my treacherous buddy there. Augustus knows what side his bread's buttered on, to use the metaphor." He began to wash himself happily, watching Rosemary rub the soap against her body.

He wasn't considering altogether much beyond the immediate...he had heavily enjoyed his time with Rosemary and was looking forward to the repeat of the experience. He gave her a playful look as he washed his face, then his hair. It felt incredible after the road and everything else...He wondered if something was troubling her from the look, but set it aside...hell, these two likely weren't long-term...best to enjoy it while it lasted now, he thought.

He napped up at the knock on the door as well, making a playful face. "Need me to sort him out?" He playfully cupped Rosemary's breasts and squeezed just once before he released her as he rose up, body dripping...he was nice and clean, however, looking strong, sated and cheerful as Rosemary mollified the one who interrupted him. Damn him, he thought...part of Adam's instinct said "eat the bastard." Part of him he only half-heartedly repressed at the moment.

He could stick to his own clothes, though he wondered if they should go off, before...he looked over when they were on the bed. Had he really never mentioned his last night? He grinned a bit and shrugged. "Well...Adam Talbot to use the full and proper title. Of the Talbots of the east. Sergeant Talbot when I wore blue," he added with just a hard touch of pride. "Even if that was some time ago..." He lowered himself to be lying beside her, staring at her...

Gods, she was even more exquisite when clean and fresh, his hand brushing to her red hair. "Well, proprieties are overrated, ain't they?" He asked with a kiss to her cheek.
 
"Talbot, huh? 'Of the east'? And where 'east' exactly would that be?" Rosemary grinned, shimmying over to give him more room on the small bed. The iron headboard was shoved beneath the windows looking out onto the main street of Constantine, and if she tilted her head back at the right angle she could see the waxing moon just beginning to rise. She was trying to decide if she wanted to rise up again in search of food, but after their exertions in the bath a languid heaviness was settling into her limbs. After more than a week of sleeping on the ground, even the stiff straw mattress felt heavenly.

It took all her remaining energy to roll over and let her cheek rest on Adam's shoulder, while her fingers traced lazily across his chest. "I don't want to talk about the War," she murmured, letting her eyes drift shut. "It tore everything apart. And no matter how hard anybody tries..." Rosie's voice was beginning to fade as her breathing slowed.

"You can't put it back together again."

*****
​
They must have slept a few hours. Moonlight was streaming through the window onto Rosemary's face, but her expression was far from peaceful. Her brows were knit together, and every now and then a little mewl of anguish slipped past her lips, evaporating on Adam's chest where she'd laid her head. Her fingers twitched and clutched at both his clothing and the bedding, and a few beads of sweat had gathered on her pale brow.

She was dreaming of a riverboat on the Mississippi. Rosie and Henry had traveled on the white palaces a thousand times following the war, but now she was utterly alone, drifting past burned out villages and bodies swinging from the overhanging tree limbs. Farther ahead though she could see the glittering lights of New Orleans, and the elegant soaring columns of the St. Charles Theater. A faceless crowd was swarming before the white steps, where a queenly figure with elegant auburn hair and whiskey-colored eyes was waving graciously to her adoring public.

"Mother!" Rosemary tried to scream as she ran to the rail of the ship, reaching out a helpless hand to the figure on the steps. The black waters of the river suddenly rose up before her, the waves forming into shapes like wolves' heads, biting and snapping at her. The gambler stumbled back and collapsed on the floor of the deck staring helplessly as the theater slipped away, as New Orleans slipped away, and the river gave way to the sea. Now there were waves on all sides, rising up in a thousand faces with teeth gnashing and claws that threatened to tear her to pieces.

When she finally woke, it wasn't because of the moonlight on her face. Rather, it was the absence of light. A shadow fell before the window, and Rosemary opened her eyes. At first, she wasn't aware of where she was or what had happened, but Adam's solid figure beside her, still sleeping peacefully, did comfort her a little. She snuggled closer to him, breathing in the masculine scent of his skin and brushing her lips across his cheek. But before she could close her eyes again, she saw it.

The face in the window.

There was no plausible reason it should have been there. The room was on the second floor, and there was no balcony or overhang below that any creature could have stood upon. The figure must have either been bracing itself against the frame of the window, or floating by some bizarre witchcraft. Rosie wanted to scream, wanted to feel for her gun, but the red eyes held her firm. A single whisper was all she could manage.

"Adam...!"

That one breath alone was enough to break the spell. The creature tilted its head at a sickening angle for a moment, then opened its mouth, revealing two rows of razor sharp teeth. "ADAM!" Rosemary cried out, shoving him hard all of a sudden as she scrabbled for the bedside table where she'd deposited her revolver. Before she could reach it though, the figure suddenly dropped, and fresh silvery moonlight streamed back into the room.

Snatching up her revolver, the gambler looked back at Adam with wide eyes. "Did you see that?"
 
"East of HERE, eh?" Adam responded with the same playful look as he brought a hand up so he might poke Rosemary's shoulder, adjusting to give her more room. "Family is out over in New York, Connecticut...like I said, East Coast, all up north. If you want the roots of the trees, they go more East'n that. All the way to the forests of eastern Europe, places like Romania and Germany, England, France, Russia, to use all that..." he shrugged a bit. "Like I said. East Lots of different places, y'know?" He shrugged casually, pleased to be able to relax now as he sank into the bed with a deep sigh. He simply looked at Rosemary...

His arm encircled her shoulders as she mentioned the war. More right than maybe she even knew, he thought. The war had ripped everything apart...but it had all been broken long before that. He thought, but didn't say...he just let Rosemary drift away, her fingers moving against his skin...

Before sleep overtook him, though, he had one thing to say:

"But you can try."

He knew this wasn't even true, though. Despite having worn the blue with his fellows, men like Glanton had simply persisted on in villainy. The war had changed life for many, but divisions continued long after it was done. Now he was heading onward, into the unknown...but at least he wasn't going there alone anymore.

*******

Adam slept. Fitfully, deeply, happily. More peacefully than he'd slept in a very long time. He could hear Rosemary's breathing as she lay beside him, the gentle hum of her heartbeat as they slept fitfully through the night. Adam forgot everything, from strife, to the hunt...Rosemary was still right there beside him...until he heard the noise of her, a low and pained groan. His eyes stirred beneath heavy lids and began to open up, fluttering as...

He'd dreamed again of Frank and the others slaughtering his friends, their former friends, all with barely concealed delight as they'd set about killing the people they'd professed brotherhood eternal to. They killed with wanton disregard for anything of greed....once the memories had caused Adam pain. No they spurred him on...to lay the dead to rest, to av enge and free their souls, he'd find Frank and the rest...

And the two bastards in the desert told him he was off to a good start.

But he kept his eyes shut, knowing it would be no different than to open them. Darkness was darkness, no matter if your eyes were shut or open through it. Adam could see in the darkness better than any human being, but even then...he simply kept his eyes shut and felt Rosemary at his side. He murmured softly, feeling the press of her warm, pale skin to his as he thought and dreamed of what was to come....they'd say goodbye on good terms, no doubt, he thought as he took in Rosemary's scent. They'd-

He heard his name, even as he detected no other scents. Rosemary shoved him and he snapped up, eyes piercing darkness as he rolled himself out of bed, nude but going for his gun as his lips peeled back. It was only with effort he did not produce a bevvy of sharp teeth, stopping a growl from coming from his throat.

And then he saw the window. Through the gloom, a face with burning eyes and teeth more suited to a dark than a man. He lunged for his gun, seizing it and turning...

It was gone, like it hadn't been there, like some nightmare, some shared vision by the two of them.

He held his gun, breathing uneasily. "...I saw it," he murmured. "Either we're both crazy or seein' things or neither of us is...suddenly, I'm fixing to get outta this town soon as possible..."
 
Rosemary clutched her pistol to her chest like a talisman, her eyes fixed on the window the entire time. Beside her Adam had done the same, and a small part of her noted with admiration how quickly the bounty hunter had roused himself. She was equally grateful he seemed to have witnessed the horrible vision himself, and that it wasn't all in the woman's exhausted mind. Very slowly, she began to creep towards the head of the bed and the window, her body tensed in case the creature should show itself again. But by the time she could press her face to the glass, there was no sign of whatever it had been.

The gambler sighed and sat back on her heels, kneeling on the coverlet with her gun resting on her knees. "Whatever it was, I think it's gone now," she sighed, though her eyes were still uncertain as she glanced back towards Adam. "What do you suppose it was? The town acrobat, having a little joke on us?" Rosie tried to smile at the idea, but couldn't find the strength. Instead she decided to shut the curtains, plunging the room into a deeper blackness than ever. Reaching over, she set her revolver back on the night table and tried to lay back down, willing herself to sleep and failing miserably.

"...Adam?" She asked after a few moments. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

Before he could answer though, a woman's scream shattered the darkness. "Esther! My God!" Down the hall, someone stumbled back against either a wall or a closed door, and a drunken man's "Shut the fuck up!" came in muffled response. The screams turned to wails, and a body hit the floor.

Rosie sat straight up in bed. This was surely no phantom, either of her own mind or Adam's. She rolled out of the bed and felt around for a lantern and matches. It took a few tries, but soon an orange flame sprang to life in its glass-and-metal prison, illuminating the gambler's face at an eerie angle beneath her chin. "Something's happened, we should go see." Not necessarily because the gambler thought there was anything they could do to help. But if there was an enemy in the hotel, she would just as soon not be trapped in a second floor room with only one way out (at least, only one way that wouldn't involve any broken bones upon landing).

She dressed quickly, pulling on first her boots then her holster before drawing her gun in one hand and taking the lantern in the other. Rosemary gave Adam just enough time to put on his own clothes and join her before tiptoeing to the door, laying her ear against the smooth wood to listen before opening it. More voices were echoing down the hall, both men and women, and underneath it all was the continued hush of sobbing.

"Get out of there Hanny, don't look at it," a man murmured, and the sound of crying moved towards the staircase. "For God's sake, someone go get the Sheriff already!"

When Rosemary opened the door she saw a man carrying a scantily clad woman (the one who wouldn't stop weeping, by the sounds of her) towards the stairs down to the barroom. Two or three other women were gathered around the door at the far end of the hall, including the old mestizo crone from earlier, whose indomitable expression suddenly looked incredibly solemn. The other men who'd been drawn out were all in various states of undress, but each one was armed and trying not to look frightened. A sickening stench hung heavy in the dark--the smell of death.

"What happened here?" Rosie asked the nearest one as she approached the scene. A heavily mustachioed man frowned and put a hand firmly on her shoulder, trying to push her away from the door.

"Stay out of it, little lady. It's not a pretty sight..."

Indeed it wasn't. Rosemary easily slipped the man's grasp, and when she looked into the room she felt her stomach begin to turn in disgust. A whore and her client had been laying in a bed positioned much the way hers and Adam's had been in their room. But this time the window was open, the curtains flapping lightly in the breeze, and the moon was shining bright on the two bodies that had been viciously torn open. Blood coated the bedspread and the floor, shining black and fresh. The man was hanging sickeningly off the edge of the bed, his back broken and entrails hanging limply from his stomach. Beside him, the whore's neck had been so badly broken her head was nearly torn off, and her ribs had been cracked and bent as if something had sought her heart.

The gambler stumbled backward, hands shaking as she felt bile rising in her throat. She was going to be sick, she knew it...
 
Adam's eyes swept over Rosemary. He noticed the gun there, seeing it held tight in her hand, clasped...and he realized i was a LeMat. Well, he thought...maybe nothing to get up in arms over. Rosemary did not strike him as the type to have served the cause of the Confederates or the profiteers. There were plenty of reasons how and why she might have come into contact with a Confederate gun, he thought. But there was absolutely a greater concern in mind at the moment and one he needed to focus his attention on.

Faces at the window rarely tended to be benevolent. Things could go, as they said, 'bump in the night' and one had apparently bumped right into them. "Gone now," he echoed Rosemary, his lips pursing. The line aout the town acrobat seemed more a vain attempt to slide them away from nervousness than anything genuine and he didn't put much, if any stock in ut when she drew the curtains...

He couldn't sleep, simply standing up there with a grim look on his face. "I think we ought- " he didn't have a chance to finish the thought, whatever it might have been. He snapped his head up at the scream tore through the night. His eyes widened as he seized his gun, tugging on his pants. He would've said 'stay here' to Rosemary, except he was certain of two things.

First was that she wouldn't listen and second that splitting up was a positively stupid fucking idea at the moment. "Let's go," he told Rosemary, emphasizing 'let's,' like they were a team. Shit, if someone was hurting one of the girls, Adam was going to set him quite a bit right there. He curled a lip in anger at the very prospect. Adam didn't like innocent people being hurt, no sir.

He leaped up , his boots and shirt thrown off haphazardly as he rushed out, thundering down the hallway while making sure Rosemary was with him so no face at the window might snatch her away from him. He could smell blood. Gore. Horrific scents that flooded his senses. It set his senses on edge...

Blood was right there and the wolf within could not help but positively slaver over it. He doubted the sheriff was going to do much of anything...r be of any use. If the fucking sheriff wasn't the one responsible, he thought as he remembered that callous, lecherous bastard.

And when he saw what was in the room, his eyes widened in horror. His mouth opened, working like a drowned, parched fish as he saw the man and the woman. the flap of the curtains in the night breeze and the dead woman...he looked at Rosemary, a stricken expression on his face as he remembered the face and the teeth they had seen, and he tried to sniff, nose working the air as he looked into the room to detect some sort of scent...

Underneath it...underneath the gore was something inhuman. A scent he did not recognize. And that scared him.

"What did this...?" He whispered, seeing the shocked and horrified faces of everyone around them...

"Rosie..." he whispered. "Maybe we oughta come away from this- "

"What's goin' on?" The sheriff's voice was a porcine grunt, the man pulling himself up. "What happened here? Better be good to- JESUS FUCKIN' MARY!" He shrieked, seeing what was in the room, the man evidently wholly unprepared. "...N-nothin' to see here, folks, go on about your business!"

He looked about there, trying to study any faces...

And finding no clues at all.
 
"Rosie..." There was something like fear in Adam's voice as he said her name. Fear she hadn't expected in one as battle-hardened as the bounty hunter. But the scene in the hotel room wasn't the result of a battle; it was slaughter, pure and simple. "Maybe we oughta come away from this..."

Rosemary was inclined to agree with him. There was nothing they could do for the poor souls now, whoever they were. There didn't seem to be much anyone could do, except for maybe the undertaker, but before that esteemed gentleman could arrive the odious slur of Obadiah Gregory echoed down the halls. She was surprised he'd arrived so quickly, but perhaps he'd wrapped up his business earlier in the night and had returned to the card tables downstairs. SeƱora Martinez had mentioned while they were playing that the barroom stayed open all night, under the watchful eye of one of her sons. Even now the gambler could hear a dull roar of voices coming from the stairwell, and after exchanging silent glances with Adam she inclined her head in that direction.

Indeed there were a few bodies gathered beneath the hanging lanterns in the bar, mostly gathered around the sobbing form of the woman who'd discovered the grisly scene. A few other whores were huddled in twos and threes, whispering to one another, while a man with a Deputy's badge made his way from group to group trying to determine what had been seen.

His eyes were clear as he caught sight of Adam and Rosemary, and he even went so far as to tip his hat respectfully to the latter. "Evening ma'am. I'm assuming all that unpleasantness upstairs woke you fine folks up?" he asked, looking from one to the other. "Don't suppose either of you saw anything suspicious?"

The gambler hesitated a moment as she looked towards Adam, wondering if she should share the vision that had awoken them prior to the murder. Something about the face in the darkness seemed too fantastical to speak about. "...No, I just heard a commotion in the hallway and we came out to look. Do...do you suppose whoever did it came through the window? I saw it was open," she said finally, shivering a little and leaning against the bounty hunter. The gesture was only partly an act.

It was a good thing she hadn't mentioned the face. The expression on the deputy's face and the little chuff of breath beneath his drooping mustache showed how much credence he lent to that theory. "Doubt it ma'am, unless the feller could fly. Now why don't you and your man here sit down and have a drink to calm your nerves. We've sent for the undertaker and a few local boys to clean up the mess so y'all can get back to bed as quickly as possible." And with that, he was off to interrogate the next witness.

In theory a drink sounded wonderful, but the gambler thought it might be better to keep her nerves sharp for now. "I could use some air. Keep me company?" she asked Adam, taking him by the hand and leading him out into the street. There were more men out here, smoking cigarettes and muttering about the crime, and farther down the street in the moonlight she could see a wagon slowly approaching. The driver was dressed in black, and wore a tall, grim hat.

Not wanting to interrupt the undertaker in his work, Rosemary wandered to the end of the building and ducked into the little alley between the hotel and the general store next door. From where she stood, she look look directly up at the open window of the murder room, and could still hear voices inside. Her eyes drifted to the dirt before her, looking for some kind of mark that might have been left by someone falling from such a height, but if anything was there it was beyond her recognition.

She did notice something against the foundation of the building however: a small, oblong object barely distinguishable in the shadows. But when Rosemary reached for it, her fingers closed around smooth, curved wood.

It was a pipe, and when she stepped back out into the light of the moon she could see it was curiously carved into the shape of a hand cupping a small bowl. Frowning, she turned it back and forth, wondering how such a thing could have ended up in the dirt. She was so engrossed in the examination that she never saw the figure approaching behind her...
 
Adam muttered a prayer under his breath for the poor devils in the room. Weren't anything they could do, he thought with a grim sense of finality. Not a single thing could bring the dead back to life. What was more, by getting involved, they could only risk their lives, freedom and safety for this. Wouldn't do for a roving bounty hunter and gambling lady to be looking too involved in this whole matter, no siree, Adam thought as he looked back at the room. The scent of blood was never something he was averse to, albeit...and Gregory was making a fraught situation all the worse....he had a feeling this man was about as useless as a coyote trying to guard a henhouse, except maybe just a touch less delicate and protective.

The crying of the prostitutes brought a softer touch to Adam's eyes, while he looked over at them, trying to give them reassuring looks. At least trying to bring some comfort with the sign he shared in grief...the dead woman must've been a friend of theirs. People diminished the lives of women in the west who only were trying to make it another day and sharing laughs with their friends at the end of it...

But at the sign of the Deputy, Adam shook his head. "Nah, we were sharing a room, got woken up by noises and we come here to see all this," he said, noting what Rosemary said about the window. He slipped an arm around Rosemary, not caring if she was putting on an act. He needed some comfort as well this time he decided. He remembered the face, pale in the moonlight and with the teeth...

The wicked, little barbed hooks in that mouth, the gleam of those eyes. "Unless he could fly," he echoed. "Yeah, silly stuff there..." though he was hardly sure...he might check the sky for the beat of leathery wings...he frowned grimly, hand to his side, where he kept the gun. "Drink, he says..." he muttered, as if whiskey could chase away the sights from above. "Wait, air?" He asked Rosemary, genuinely stunned at the prospect of heading outside...

"I mean...sure," he added as they descended the stair, walking out into the night with the pale crescent of the moon overhead. He ignored the undertaker best he could, following Rosemary...

"Might I just make note that we're looking for something that took human bodies apart like chicken dinners?" He whispered to her...seeing exactly what she had found. "I mean- " he stopped as something melted out of the gloom...

Something with eyes of fire. Something that reeked of blood. "Rosie!" Adam could not get the gun out in time as it came forward. So instead he lunged, seizing it in a vise-grip and slamming it into the wall.

And he could see a face, smooth, yet with the scent of rot about it. The features were unmistakably batlike in the moon, the teeth snapping as Adam evaded, noting how strong it was. He went for the knife, struggling to contain the thing...all while it snapped to hie throat. Adam put his heels to the ground...

Using all the power he had, before his knife was knocked away. "Rosie...Rosie, get me the knife!" He managed....realizing his only option might have been to use something else...

His eyes gaining a golden tinge as he and the hungry thing grappled.
 
Everything happened in a burst of blood and thunder.

Something slammed into Rosemary's side, sending her stumbling away from the building and nearly dropping the pipe in the process. Thankfully her fingers had already closed tight around the object, and a reprimand was quick on her lips as she stared accusingly over her shoulder, expecting that Adam had brushed too roughly against her for whatever reason. But it wasn't Adam that had hit her, at least, not Adam alone.

He had something pinned up against the wall of the hall, just out of the edge of moonlight seeping around the corner of the building But even in the dark she could see the same red eyes that had leered at them through the window, and now there was more than a face in view. Rosie coudn't make out many details, but she could see the thing was a short, human-like figure with a bald head and pointed ears. Long, claw-like nails at the end of scrabbling fingers were slashing and tearing at the back of Adam's shirt, only avoiding his neck by the bounty hunter's quick movements and counter grapple.

But what would be harder to avoid was the creature's teeth. Its wide mouth was full of them, and they were sharp, and it was snapping and gnashing towards the bounty hunter's face and neck with an almost animalistic fury. Rosemary suddenly had little trouble wondering how the poor souls in the upstairs room had met their end. No doubt such a creature would have no trouble tearing into them with all the viciousness of a wild dog.

What was surprising was how well Adam seemed to be handling himself. He was holding the thing firm against the wooden wall of the building, despite its flailing and wriggling like a caught fish. There was no way for the bounty hunter to draw his gun without releasing the monster, but he'd managed to get his knife out...for one brief moment before the creature sent it flying into the street.

"Rosie...Rosie, get me the knife!"

He was referring to his own knife. Rosemary knew that, but somehow her hands didn't get the message. Instead, they reached for her own knife, pulling it free from her boot before she could fully realize what was happening. It wasn't until she was next to Adam, stabbing at the creature from the side, that she realized the error of her act.

The monster turned its face towards her, opened it's mouth full of teeth, and half-screamed, half-hissed directly into Rosie's face. Immediately she felt nausea rising in her at the stench and stumbled back. "Mother of God!" she cried, trying to keep from vomiting. By some miracle, her knife had caught at the filthy sleeve of the creature's ragged shirt, but missed its wiry blackened flesh entirely. A larger piece of the fabric tore itself free as the thing summoned some last hidden well of strength, pushing past Adam's arms and leaping into the middle of the alley.

It might have lunged at either the woman or the man at that point, but something in the street stopped it before it could make another room.

"Hey now, what's all that racket over there?" the sheriff's voice called, just as that esteemed official rounded the corner of the building with a small posse of men behind him. "JESUS what the fuck is that thing?" He cried, fumbling for his gun.

Someone else must have had a cooler head, because a moment later Rosemary heard another man's voice--the Pinkerton from the card game? Jefferson?--shouting for her and Adam to get down. Tackling the bounty hunter, she could feel bullets whizzing overhead, several of which pierced the monstrosity's bloodstained torso. Another man, carrying Adam's knife from the street, raced forward and slashed at the thing's neck. It dodged in an almost graceful manner before sinking its teeth into the man's forearm, making him drop Adam's knife a few feet from the bounty hunter's reach.

The creature might have tried to eat the poor fellow right then and there, but the guns were reloading quickly. So instead he let out another on of those foul-smelling shrieks, then turned and began to lope on all fours to the back of the hotel and the desert beyond. Several of the men immediately gave chase, but only the Pinkerton got close enough to empty another round into the monster's back before being utterly outpaced.

And still the abomination ran, until the darkness of the desert swallowed him up entirely.

Back in the alley, the deputy had been kind enough to see to the wounded man's arm, but no one seemed particularly interested in Adam or Rosie. The gambler went to her erstwhile lover's side, quickly looking him over to see if he'd taken any similar damage. She noted a few scrapes here and there, and something that looked like the graze of sharp teeth, but otherwise Adam seemed fine. Although...was it her imagination, or did his eyes seem different? Had they always been that color?

"All right?" she asked, trying to brush the dust off him. "What in the world do you suppose that thing was?" A shiver ran down her back.

It wasn't human, that was for sure.
 
Adam was locked in sudden mortal combat with something. Something that had come from the night, something that had shown itself in their window. Something that was now seekign to add him and Rosemary to the list of the slain. Adam, if truth be told, was a man who preferred monsters to be quantified. He didn't like something to be called a 'something.' It made it too unknown, too ephemeral for his tastes. For one of the People, you could call them werewolves and know to deal with them by claw and tooth, or failing that a good silver bullet or blade. One of the ancients things of the east, you could know to deal with them using fire or wood through the hearts.

But this? This was just a 'something' that he had no. fucking. IDEA how to handle. And that kind of pissed him off, particularly with the nails seeking his vulnerable flesh. Adam swore and held on, knowing that if he gave in, not only would he die, but so would Rosemary. He had learned boxing in the army, wrestling as well. Not that it was official, but he'd earned a fair bit of cash in the in-between little semi sanctioned matches.

Grappling was another story, though. Fighting for his life, Adam Talbot was seeing rows of sharp teeth bearing down on him as he did his best to fucking resist. His own eyes flared, briefly golden as he slammed it against the wall, moving his head to evade the snapping, thirsting, snarling jaws. Spittle and drool flecked from those teeth while Adam fought for some solution here. Risking the gun would give it a chance to savage him and Adam did not particularly feel like being savaged.

Come on, Rosemary Chance. Don't fail me now, his mind howled out. Instead of going for his knife, though, Rosemary did what so many people did in life or death struggles: she erred. Her knife was drawn and buried in the thing's side...

Or not. It missed the flesh, stabbing away into the shirt, with the thing so close to Rosemary. God, Adam thought, didn't have much to do with this one, no sir. With a burst of strength, it flung Adam aside, snarling and spitting as it ran to the alley. Adam lowered himself into a fighting crouch. His gun was out and he sought for the silver ammunition, his teeth bared as he looked to set himself in front of Rosemary.

"See me, you son of a bitch," he hissed, with his eyes gleaming a baleful gold. His teeth lengthened, but he repressed the change. He let the thing look at him and see a fellow predator in turn. And oh, was he read to bring the fire and the thunder down when.

Oh shit. He heard the sheriff's voice. The man was rushing up. No, thought the bounty hunter bleakly. This was JUST the wrong time. "It ain't got a damn thing to do with your buddy Christ, sheriff!" He said, raising the gun-

When Rosemary bore him down, just as the bullets were flying. He saw the the thing attacked, the men around trying to mob it. "Run, you idiots!" He tried to shout...before it did what he wasn't expecting.

It ran. It turned tial and bolted, all into the desert, fleeing into the desert. Adam was healing quickly. He breathed in and out, willing himself to a human guise. "I'm fine, Rosie. Takes more'mn that to do me some harm. Ya holdin' up okay?" He looked up at the sheriff, hiding his language on how the man had almost gotten them damn well killed.

"...Thank ya," Adam said simply, before he wondered himself.... He'd heard tales from the People on the east...

"...Ain't nothing I wanna see again..." He sniffed, detecting the blood from the fellow who'd been savaged. "Might...wanna get that looked at..." There was another scent he couldn't identify as much as he tried under it....

"...Reminds me of stories my granny used to tell and not in a good way," he said. That was true enough as it was. He could feel the gaze of the sheriff on them. Not trusting at all. Well, that was hardly ideal.

"Rosie...what say we get...back inside?"

"Not till ya answer a few questions."

Well, shit.
 
When Adam and Rosie had tried to cash in the bounty, Sheriff Gregory had struck the woman as a bully. When he had sat beside her at the card tables, trying his best to drunkenly charm her into his bed, he had seemed like an oaf. But now under the moonlight, he reminded her of a rail yard dog, ready to tear apart the first thing that crossed him, even if it was a pretty woman like herself. She still would have put money on Adam being the faster draw though, even just coming off a tussle with the sharp-toothed monstrosity, and she pressed a little closer to the bounty hunter's side.

"We already spoke to your deputy. We didn't see anything that happened upstairs..." Rosemary began.

The sheriff cut her off quick. "Well we ain't upstairs, are we little lady? We're out here, and I got a man bleeding out with some kinda demon to blame for it, and you two just happen to be witnesses. Now I wanna know what you're up to, and I want the truth, you hear?"

Before either of them could answer, two members of the posse stepped out of the alleyway, carrying the wounded man between them. Sweat was beaded on the poor man's brow, and he was already bleeding through the makeshift bandage someone had wrapped around his forearm. Whispered snatches of Spanish prayers sputtered over his swollen lips, and his eyes were rolled back in his head. One of the men holding him up looked uncertainly at Sheriff Gregory. "Cabrera here's lookin' real bad, boss. Anyone find Doc Ludwig yet?"

Obadiah let out a curse. "I told Harrison to go drag that fat bastard out of whatever hole he stumbled into more'n an hour ago." Genuine concern flashed across his face as he watched Cabrera's body begin to convulse. "Son of a bitch...that's our only gunsmith who speaks any goddamn English, he'd better not die on us." Realizing he would have to go find the doctor himself, the sheriff glared at the man and woman before him. "You two, don't even think of going anywhere. I'm gonna have a long talk with you both in the morning. You try to run and I'll send Jeff after you, and he's got a nose like a bloodhound on him. You won't get far."

After murmuring halfhearted assurances that they wouldn't leave, Rosemary urged Adam back into the hotel, where the barroom was freshly a-babble in gossip about what had happened outside. A madman, a wild beast, some horrific cross between the two...everyone had a different version of what it was that had murdered Esther and her paramour, and now it looked like poor SeƱor Cabrera was going to be added to the list of victims. No one noticed as the man and woman slipped back upstairs to their room, and while the hallway still smelt of gore, the undertaker and his men had done a surprisingly good job of cleaning up the mess.

Inside their room, Rosemary slid a chair in front of the door and kept the curtains drawn. The only light in the blackness was the little lamp on the beside table, and she kept close to it as though it could keep her safe.

"You're sure you're all right?" the gambler asked, as she held it towards Adam and grimly illuminated his face. "It looked like that thing might have nicked you. I saw what it did to that man Cabrera's arm; do you think it could have been venomous?" She shuddered a little. "It was almost like a snakebite, wasn't it? A really bad snakebite..."
 
Adam gad very, very little use for the good Sheriff Gregory. Frank and the others would've had even less. Such a thick, loutish, foolish man would've been torn apart and eaten by the gang. Hunted for little but sport. And Adam was currently in a poor enough mood, having had to battle for his life and coming away with little to show for it beyond scrapes and questions. With Rosie at his side, he instinctively slid an arm around her, pulling her close as she and the Sheriff discussed things. Okay, it looked bad to be outside, he thought.

"The truth?" Adam began, ready to unleash fire and brimstone that a preacher might well have been envious of. Righteous indignation glimmered in his eyes, this stupid and corrupt man in a company town that hired Pinkertons to keep people in line. What would these creeps know of the damned truth? The thought was so infuriating, it made him want to howl. Literally, that was how he dealt with stress.

When the posse stepped out, Adam looked over, his eyes narrowed at them "Yeah, better go find Doc Ludwig," he said with a muttering grunt to his voice. His mouth curled, tongue moistening his lips. "What, gonna accused us of what one, too?" He asked Sheriff Gregory with more sarcasm than was probably healthy for him or Rosemary, bracing his ribs for an elbow at that. And the man was a gunsmith. Better and better.

He tried not to snort at the 'bloodhound' comment, only nodding once to the sheriff, his lip curled up when Obadiah Gregory wasn't looking too close...

Getting the hell back inside was a good thought, though Adam had to note the curious looks people were giving them. He just shrugged to himself, weak and noncommittal at all those about them. "...Poor Esther," he said, meaning it now as they returned to their room.

"Yeah, I'm fine here, Rosie...and yeah, probably venomous is a good word for it..." His voice was low and quiet. "Damn fool Gregory don't know what he's dealing with, but I heard...stories of things like that. Ain't nothing good to it, neither. Thing's out in the desert. Likely be back the following night if the town's got bad luck...and from the looks of this, they clearly do." He rubbed his head weakly. "How the hell this happened.." he muttered, suddenly pausing as something drifted up, out of the desert, sailing over the town...

The sound of distant, mournful howling.
 
Rosemary knew the deserts and plains well enough to recognize the sound of coyotes at night. Usually it didn't bother her; Pa always said his mother's cocker spaniels had more bite in them than a coyote did, assuming you weren't a jackrabbit. But the cries wafting into the town of Constantine unnerved her somehow, making her reach both for her revolver and the man beside her for comfort.

"I don't know how I'm going to get any sleep," she mourned, momentarily holstering the LeMat and checking her pocketwatch in the dim lamplight. The flickering face read a little past midnight, and for a moment the name engraved on the inside of the case reflected the lamp fire in in glowing red letters:

š¯”‡š¯”§š¯”˛š¯”¢š¯”³š¯”¢š¯”©š¯”°š¯”¢š¯”«​

The watch clicked shut and she slipped it back into her pocket with a sigh. "Suppose we should try to rest though. You especially, hurt as you are," Rosie added, glancing back over at Adam's wounds. To her surprise, they had already scabbed over, and while it might have been a trick of the light, they really didn't look as bad as they had in the moonlight. Maybe it was just a scratch after all she mused, setting aside the lamp.

Once she'd ensured both the door and window were securely fastened, the gambler snuggled closer to the bounty hunter, still fully dressed all the way down to her boots. Her revolver was within arms reach, and she refused to extinguish the light.

"After all," Rosemary yawned as she forced her eyes shut. "What if the thing can see in the dark?"

*****
​
Morning came late, a heavy gray light outside that hinted at coming thunder, but not necessarily rain. Rosemary could hear muttered female voices in the corridor, and men on the street outside discussing the events of the evening. Adam was still beside her, and if she had to guess he must have been up for some time.

"Did you sleep at all?" she asked, sitting up and opening the curtains. The window latch was undisturbed, as was the door to the room, and she was soon convinced the rest of the night had passed without trouble. Even her money was fully accounted for, and the reminder of her profitable evening at the card tables did bring a new lightness to her.

"I should get some new clothes," Rosemary murmured to herself, calculating out the cost. "And a horse, if I can. Or a burro, if it comes to that." It would be tight though, unless she could strike up a bargain with some rancher or another. Otherwise even if she could find some poor beast to carry her to the nearest railroad station, she still wouldn't have enough leftover for a ticket to California. With the sheriff's eyes on them she wasn't ready to risk another game of cards just yet, which meant getting creative with finances. Oh well, they'd been instructed not to leave town anyway, and there was no point in panicking on an empty stomach.

Rising to her feet, the gambler held out a hand to the man on the bed to help him up. "Shall we see if we can find a bit of breakfast around here?"
 
Adam stayed perched near to the window, his eyes narrowing slightly. Just coyotes, he thought. He knew the howls of the desert walkers and what differentiated them from those he knew quite well. Oh, did he know them and their mournful night songs. He had grown up knowing them...people thought of the northern states as nothing but cities and industry, but there was plenty by way of forest and untamed land for them to roam when the moons were upon them...

He knew the howls of his kin as well. He knew the howls of Frank Glanton and the rest. The howls that carried with them the impression of wild, mad laughter. His frown deepened, his lip curling back before he returned to reality as a final howl approached...more that of a wolf than a Coyote....

"Well, give it a try anyhow, Rosie," he said as he heard the sound of the LeMat slip into its holster. "Won't do to be too tired for work...whatever that there might be comin' up."

He almost remembered he had any injuries, checking his arm. "Ain't nothin', Rosie. Damn bastard barely nicked me." He tried to sound casual, even boisterous, with his handsome, almost boyish grin while Rosemary set the lamp aside. Adam joined her in bed, his arms about her, while he combed his hands through her hair. "Probably smart to stay dressed. Though I sure as hell ain't complainin' about you in less clothes," he whispered teasingly.

As Rosemary drifted off, though, Adam answered the question best he could: "If it can see in the dark, then we're just as safe there as with the light." After all...It wasn't the dark.

It was what lurked within it.
*****

Adam didn't sleep. Oh, he closed his eyes and waited, a still trance until he felt the sun rise, but he didn't sleep. To sleep might be to dream and to dream could be a frustrating thing. He simply bided his time, waiting until the sun was up. For a given value of 'sun.' The day was drab and gray, a colorless pastel there that bespoke of poor weather.

"Fair enough," he informed Rosemary, pleased to have washed up earlier. "New horse, huh? Augustus'll be proper disappointed to hear that. He's grown quite attached to ya, Rosie." He said with the same smile. "He can mighty frustrated if he's sad, too." He chuckled softly. "Splendid idea, I think we're fit to treat ourselves to a good frontier breakfast, maybe a rabbit and gila monster stew?" He couldn't help but smirk as they pulled up, Adam checking his own clothes. "Maybe I should go for a new set myself here..." he mused. "Maybe new shoes for Augustus, he did get us the bounty after all..."

He glanced out the window. "What're the odds they'll be askin' us some questions before too long's passed?"
 
Rosemary wrinkled her nose at Adam's description of breakfast. "I should hope not. We paid good money and didn't even get a good night's sleep for it. The least we should get is some decent eggs and coffee for our trouble."

There was that and more down in the hotel dining room. The food wasn't fancy, but there was an abundance of bacon and biscuits, and SeƱora Martinez' tortillas were so fresh they were almost too hot to touch. After a mug of strong, slightly-gritty coffee, Rosemary could feel her senses growing sharper, and as she stared across the table at Adam a strange look came into her eyes.

"Well Mr. Talbot, I asked you to escort me safely into town, and you've clearly accomplished that and more. Since the matter of the bounty and last night's poker winnings has been clearly resolved, I imagine this must be goodbye." Rosie had tried to keep her tone as businesslike as possible when she smiled over her coffee, but her heart clearly wasn't in it. Despite her acquaintance with the bounty hunter being less than 48 hours old, she was not relishing the idea of heading for the next town on her own. At the same time, she could hardly ask him to put a hold on his own business in order to see her safely onto a westbound train. There were always other villains needing apprehension, and who was even to say where the nearest train station was?

All of this was separate from the matter of what they'd seen in the night as well. Rosie shuddered a little, trying to think what it would have been like to encounter such a creature on her own, in the desolation of the wild. She would be lucky if she ended up as well-off as poor Cabrera.

"Oh yes, poor Eduardo. I heard passed shortly after dawn," a voice near the bar sighed in a gentle tone. It caught Rosemary's attention, and she looked over to see a stunningly beautiful girl resting a reassuring hand on the slumped shoulder of one of the upstairs girls. At first glance, the gambler thought the dark-haired figure was another one of the prostitutes, but after looking her up and down it was clear from the quality and style of her dress that this was no saloon whore. Her skin was stunningly pale; no doubt she was privileged enough to avoid outdoor work even in this rustic settlement. And when the girl turned in Rosie's direction (had she felt the gambler's eyes on her?) a gold cross glittered on her neatly corseted chest, no doubt an expensive gift from someone.

Rosie had expected the girl--or woman, perhaps; she looked perhaps around nineteen or twenty--to glare disdainfully when she realized the pair at the table had been eavesdropping. To her surprise though, the red lips parted in a gentle smile that illuminated the stranger's heart-shaped face, and after excusing herself from her current company the young lady approached the table with an almost supernatural grace.

"Good morning!" she greeted in a sweet voice that had the slightest hint of an accent--Russian? "You two must be the bounty hunters who came in yesterday. I've heard quite the bit of gossip about you both." Long lashes fluttered over bright blue eyes in a wink as she laid a hand on each of their shoulders. "Would you mind if I join you for a little while? I just rode into town this morning from my Papa's ranch to do a bit of shopping and get the latest news, and I'm completely overwhelmed."

Giggling, she offered a ladylike curtsy. "My name is Sonja, by the way. Sonja Constantine. And I think--" She pointed a long finger at Adam as she pretended to think hard. "You must be Adam, and this one is Rosie? Or do I have that backward?" Sonja giggled again before taking the coffeepot from a passing serving girl and offering them both a fresh pour.

Once everyone had a full mug, the girl leaned forward and let her voice drop. "So, did you see any of the activity last night?" she whispered, looking from one face to the other. "I've heard all sorts of horrible things, from cannibals to monsters to worse! Do you have any idea what really happened?"
 
Adam did not bother to contest Rosemary's own description of how they might well have burnt their money after throwing it down a dark hole. "Well, there's a sayin' over in the East, last of investments, bankers and speculation that my ol' dad was fond of saying. Let the buyer beware," he said with a soft chuckle to himself. He needed less rest than Rosemary did, but he was still considerably weary after the fight. And their earlier exertions. Not that he was going to say that specifically.

Instead, he was just glad to make his way down, right to the dining area of the inn. Adam had a powerful hunger for meat, rewarded with about what he had expected. The woman behind the counter was a pleasant-seeming enough, with the scent of bacon and coffee about her, Adam pleased to receive a steaming plate of salted, fried bacon and fresh biscuits. Even better, tortillas, heaped high with peppers and cut tomatoes, along with fresh-poached eggs. And coffee. Damned if that didn't set his canine senses up! He chuckled to himself, taking a firm sip of bitter, black liquid. "Ahhh...well, a good, good mornin' to ya and good eatin'!" He added as he set to his food, all while Rosemary was talking. Yes, he'd escorted her into town, he thought as he munched on a biscuit after slathering it with bacon grease, sandwiching it with another biscuit and several strips of bacon and taking a bite, before...

"I imagine this must be goodbye."

Wait...what? He paused mid-bite at that, paused as he blinked, to contemplate just what she had said. Good...good bye? Was that it? Their parting? He made no response, resuming chewing, a soft crunch audible as his teeth worked the meat and biscuit bread, words pouring through his head. "Now..." he said after swallowing. "Mightn't be best to be so...hasty as to our parting, Rosie. After all, there's a mystery at hand here. something going on. And besides, if we part now, our friend the dimwit sheriff might view it as a touch..." he stopped to fish for the right word. "Suspicious, no? We were told not to do anything untoward." Or close enough by Shriff Obadiah. "There's something going on in this town, with the company here and all...I don't think we ought cut our losses yet..." He began, seeing her shudder.

He remembered the beast from last night, last seen fleeing into the desert. No, being on their own was NOT a wise thought and he worried that with thing around. Who's to say it didn't have their scent? That it might not hunt Rosemary if he wasn't easy prey? He cleared his throat. "I just mean, it might seem logical to be sticking together a while longer. Rosemary, ma'am," he said as strictly business as he might manage it...besides, he had the money to resume the hunt for Frank Glanton and the others...Rosemary could...

Well...maybe their goals might intersect again. Stranger things had happened, for certain, out in the old west. His ears pricked up however as he heard the noises over, the voice:

"Poor Eduardo." I heard he passed shortly after dawn." Words died in Adam's throat as he turned to see the woman there...clad all in a beautiful dress, her flesh like snow that had never been cursed with the rays of the sun. His mouth opened slightly, seeing her delicate form and the shine of the cross at her chest...the gleam of her eyes and he realized he had been staring.

HE...damn. He'd seen women before, but that was now like comparing a small, dusty little village to El Dorado. Beautiful just did not do this woman justice, and her accent reminded him of his grandmother's, while she approached the table, her blue eyes gleaming with all the light of a beautiful and cloudless day. "...No mind at all. Pull up a seat, me and my friend here were just in the middle of discussing a business issue!" He said.

Sonja. An old-world name alright...she evidently wasn't 'from here,' as they said. "Papa's ranch, eh? And...would that be the town founder?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah...my name's Adam. Adam Talbot..." he said. Well, wasn't HE acting like a mawkish schoolboy now?

As for everything last night. "Matter of fact, we uh...saw a face at the window." He was struck dumb enough to forget those implicatons. "But, uh...beyond that, nothin'...how're the poor ladies takin' it...?"
 
Mama had been right when she told Rosemary that men really were alike all over the place. Despite the fact that only moment before Adam had been quick to argue against splitting up so soon, his eyes damn near fell out of his head when Sonja sat down at the table. Rosie pressed her lips together and raised her coffee cup, trying her damndest not to look offended. She shouldn't have been, really; she'd known the bounty hunter for all of forty-eight hours and fucked him exactly once. They were hardly engaged.

She couldn't tell if Sonja was recepted to his glances or not. The dark-haired girl gave Adam a knowing smile when he mentioned the town founder, but there was nothing particularly flirtatious in her voice as far as Rosie could tell. "You must have visited Constantine before, Mr. Talbot, if you know about Papa. What about you, Mrs. Talbot?" The blue eyes fixed curiously on Rosemary, who nearly spat out her coffee at the address.

"Oh, we aren't married," she stammered, coughing a little on the grounds stuck in her throat.

Two tiny pink dots appeared on Sonja's cheeks, but rather than glaring judgmentally at the pair she merely giggled again. "Well, your secret's safe with me," she confided before turning back to Adam. "A face, you say? What sort of face? People are saying it was some sort of monster, but surely that cannot be..."

"Well whatever it was, it managed to perch outside a second floor window with no balcony," Rosemary chimed in with a grim expression. "It must have been clinging to the wall like some kind of a lizard or spider. Then it took off running into the desert fast as any horse. We saw a fellow chasing off after it, but I doubt he caught him." Her eyes quickly scanned the room for any sign of Pinkerton presence, but the early crowds were still primarily female.

"I see," the other woman sighed, twisting the fine fabric of her dusty pink skirt between her hands. Sonja seemed lost in thought for a few moments, then looked back up at the pair. "Do the two of you have pressing business in town?" she asked, folding her hands in her lap. "You see, Papa so rarely leaves the ranch--he's so busy, you know--and he really ought to be informed about everything that's happened. The sheriff and his deputies will probably be quite busy solving matters themselves, but perhaps, if you don't mind, the two of you would be willing to come back and tell him about what you witnessed? It's a bit of a ride, but we have plenty of room if you want to stay the night."

Rosemary bit her lip a little and glanced at Adam. For some reason, she didn't fancy riding out to an isolated ranch with creatures like the fiend from last night running around. At least in town there were plenty of men with guns on hand. "Well, the sheriff had wanted to question us again. And I was hoping to do a bit of shopping; this is unfortunately my only outfit at the moment," she tugged lightly at the dusty serape.

"Oh I'd be happy to give you some castoffs! I have plenty at home," Sonja offered, patting Rosie's hand reassuringly. "And I'm sure the sheriff won't mind you tending to this first. He'd hate to keep Papa out of the loop of current events, considering he's the one who got him elected in the first place," she added with a wink.

Turning, the pale woman looked hopefully at Adam. "What do you say, Mr. Talbot? Would you mind accompanying me home once my affairs in town are done?" If Rosie refused to come out to the ranch, then perhaps her companion would be more willing to share his experiences with Mr. Constantine.
 
Adam was usually a man of drive and focus. Wolves, his parents had taught him, were beings of the hunt. They were primordial ambassadors of the wild who never allowed their prey out of their sight. It was part of what made him such an effective bounty hunter. Adam was not exactly someone given to losing focus often, but he had been surprised precisely twice in the last forty eight hours. The first was by Rosemary (admittedly they'd gotten friendlier than he had expected) and now by....this woman here right before them...

Sonja. And her scent was far from off-putting, he thought as her smile grew. "I mean...first time in town," he said. "But with the town name, it don't really take much to figure out..." he added as his eyes glanced back and forth in nervous little flittings. He tried to catch himself, clearly his throat before she referred to Rosemary as "Mrs. Talbot." He managed to just sip his own coffee, hiding his views at that. "Yeah, yeah," he said. "Not married at all. In fact, you might call us, uh...business associates?" It sounded lame for a woman he had been enthusiastically bedding a very short time ago and really he was worried he was being rude in regards to Rosemary at the moment...

"S-Secret? There's a secret?" He said quickly, clearing his throat and trying not to go bright red himself. Hell, this wasn't like him at all. Either of them in fact. And...he sighed and shook his head quick, frantic, remembering the face. More than the face, he was still bearing the memories of that fight, if not the marks, falling silent as Rosemary was speaking and trying not to clue her in that there was no shortage of things that might have been capable of doing what they had seen "The Face" do. Adam knew quite a lot that could be capable of it, set your watch and warrant on it..

"Hopefully the damn thing is gone," Adam muttered, remembering the battle from the last night, while trying for his nose to detect anyone Pinkertons. "We thank ya for the generosity...but the Sheriff's kinda not in the business of trusting us quite yet..." Even as taken as he was by Sonja, he was not exactly a fool to go into unfamiliar territory. "We appreciate the offer, buuut..." He trailed off at the rest.

"...Might not be too bad, right, Rosie? I mean, for the evening, long as ya treat my horse right? He's had a hard few days, rotten turncoat that he might be."
 
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