Devlin's Curse

by Brenda, Lady

  The cry penetrated the rubble to the rescuers outside. When they heard the cry they paused in their labors then raised a ragged cheer. It was with renewed energy they attacked the mounds of fallen rocks. Once they knew there were men alive down in the Gilded Bird it was a race against time.

  Momentarily they looked at each other but no one voiced the unspoken truth. It could be days before they broke through. Days before the trapped men had food or water. Days while the tainted air got thinner and thinner, until the men ran out of oxygen entirely.

  Side by side men and women increased their efforts and worked around the clock.

  After what felt like an eternity, in the close confines of their debris choked prison, Devlin and walking Ghost heard a faint cry,

  “Haaaaloow in there!”

  They shouted back.

  Twenty-four hours later the townsfolk had tied a chain around a large stone, the one that blocked the entrance of the mine and hitched it to a four mule team. With a great heave it came tumbling free.

  When the dust cleared Devlin and Walking Ghost emerged from the mine.

  Esmeralda rose unsteadily to her feet. She hung on Jamie’s arm for support.

  “You alright, Miss Esmeralda? You need to set down a spell?” he asked.

  Esmeralda wanted to run to Devlin but hung back. He was safe that is all she cared about. She pulled her scarf close over her hair and with Jamie at her side made her way through the crowd and back down to Town.

  Chapter Eight

  Reckoning

  For days Laredo had been riding high on his dirty deed. He drank whiskey and bragged about how he put the lights out for a certain gambler. Winter had tried to make him look yellow in front of the whole town; well he had shown them all. That gambler and his dirty Paiute sidekick were dead as doornails by now. Washed up and suffocated by the blast he set to destroy the mine. He used the last of Big Jim’s hundred dollar reward to buy another round. As long as the alcohol flowed he had an audience because everyone in town knew him to be nothing but a trumped up jackass with a trigger finger. He poured himself a shot and pounded it back.

  The sound of the door to the saloon being flung open startled him. A ragged young newsboy popped his head into the saloon and shouted. “Thier alive! Thier alive, survivors found in the Gilded Bird mine”

  Laredo gagged and spewed his whiskey.

  Fit to be tied he grabbed the poor boy by the collar and shook him. “What the hell is you spoutin’ about boy!”

  The boy squirmed. “It’s that gambler and that Injun, they were found alive.”

  Furious, Laredo flung the boy away from him. The boy stumbled and fell onto the sawdust floor. Laredo pushed himself away from the bar and started towards the door but before he could reach it a shadow blocked his view.

  He looked up and saw that the gambler,

  Devlin Winter stood there. Whole, and in the flesh, dressed immaculately with not a speck of dust soiling his black frock coat or the brim of his hat.

  “Going somewhere Laredo?” he drawled.

  Laredo rocked back on his heels. His eyes bugged out. “You!”

  “Surprised to see me alive? Don’t worry it won’t be for long. You won’t be seeing anything after I plant a 44 slug between your damned eyes.”

  Devlin drew back his coat and rested his hand on his gun.

  Laredo blustered. “Oh Yeah, well mister I ain’t scared a you, won’t be the first time sum’ un thought they could kill me. You can take your best shot.”

  The crowd in the saloon had parted around them muttering. The bartender reached for his shotgun but Devlin spoke out. “There’s no need for that. If Laredo wants to settle a score with me he can meet me at the corner of Taylor and A Street at noon.” He took an antique silver watch out of his vest and perused it. “You have ten minutes.” With those words he turned and walked out the door.

  Devlin waited for him and took a casual stance in the very center of the street. He had no doubt that Laredo would follow him, along with half the drunks, on the boardwalk. He stood motionless while Laredo walked jerkily up the hill.

  It took a minute for the stupefied expression to leave his face but by then Laredo found himself on Taylor and A Street where small crowd had gathered. Now he looked stone cold sober, and from the expression on his face – scared to death, the alcohol that had soaked his brain all but evaporated by the hammering of his heart.

  Devlin and Laredo faced each other. They stood about fifty feet apart. For a split second they were motionless. Then leather was slapped and two shots rang out.

  Laredo was flung backwards and a thin stream of blood ribboned out around him. When he hit the ground Devlin replaced his smoking gun in his holster. He walked and stood over Laredo’s lifeless body. He flipped a playing card out of the pocket of his vest. The Ace of spades fluttered down to stick over the ragged bullet hole between Laredo’s sightless eyes.

  Devlin knew then that the reckoning had begun.

  A maelstrom would be drawn to him and his curse, setting the wheels in motion for the confrontation that was sure to come. He glanced at the crowd that had gathered for the gunfight. He saw Esmeralda standing under a tree and a serpent of dread wound its way through his mind. He would have to ask Walking Ghost to shadow her every move. He had no doubt that history was repeating itself placing him directly in the path of the Demon; one that he must slay again and again. Perhaps it was fortunate he was immortal after all? Mortal man had proven to be fodder to such evil, easily possessed and corrupted. It especially preyed on the weak, the vain and the drunk.

  After the fatal shot sent Laredo home to Hell, a brief silence filled the air for a space of a few seconds, then the noise of the town resumed. Not one person made an attempt to approach Devlin. No one took notice as he walked away and left a pack of ragged drunks to swarm over Laredo like flies on a road apple while they emptied his pockets and pulled off his boots.

  There was one person that did watch Devlin go.

  Mr. Leonard White had witnessed the speed in which the gambler had drilled Laredo and he now knew for certain that he dared not meet Devlin face to face. Dry gulching was the only way he could be sure to plant the gambler for good. Fortunately ol’ Leonard White knew a fair amount about that.

  After the gunfight, Devlin walked swiftly to intercept Esmeralda before she could flee back to her salon. He blocked her path. Esmeralda would not meet his eyes. He reached out and took her arm.

  “Angel?”

  She pulled her arm free and looked up at him. Her green eyes blazed with fury.

  “Oh God Devlin. Wasn’t it enough to be trapped in that mine? Was this display necessary?”

  “Laredo had it coming, he set the charge that buried Walking Ghost and me in that mine. His associates had better think twice before they try to harm those that are under my protection,” he said.

  “Does that include me?” Esmeralda asked. Things had begun to take a sinister turn. “To be under your protection is to be a part of the danger, surely”

  “Yes.” He stared at her. She tried to hide the expression on her face.

  But he knew.

  Devlin smiled slightly.

  “Open the door to me tonight Angel,” he said.

  Chinatown was one vast living organism. It was like a giant web with Grandfather Woo in the center. There was not a single whisper from C Street and above that did not come to his ear. The events of the past few days had been gossiped about and even bet upon in the Chinese lotteries. Chinese servants worked tirelessly in all the great houses, and as the silent backbone of Virginia City they provided everything from fresh vegetables, firewood and laundry services to opium.

  Woo was the English word for Wu. Chinese for sorcerer, spirit medium and doctor. Grandfather was all of these and came from a long line of Wu’s. In their native China the Wu family was revered, feared even, for their extraordinary talents of magic and healing.

  This particular branch of the Wu family tree, were the guardians of
the Demon, or Beast, the Red Dragon of the earth. They were experts in demonic possession and spirit warfare. Their presence in Virginia City was the same as in many mining towns where the excavation of the mines had opened portals to the lairs of Demons. Through ritual and sacrifice they had held these Demons at bay but what concerned them now was the extraordinary fascination between Big Jim Diamond and the Demon of the Gilded Bird Mine.

  Grandfather Woo and his three young sons gathered in the back of the herb store. Grandmother Woo and two young Chinese women moved silently behind them serving them tea and lighting their pipes.

  “My sons,” Grandfather said, as he puffed on his long pipe, “a demon, like the one that killed your brother Hop, is here in Virginia City. As you all know, for hundreds of years this family have been the guardians of that evil and now Chow, my number two son, you are the guardian of the Demons host, a bloated water buffalo that calls himself Big Jim.”

  Chow sat up straight and smoothed the front of his black silk suit. “It would be easy, most honorable father, to kill this host. He is not only disgusting but he is addicted to the poppy flower.”

  Grandfather Woo disagreed. “No my son, there are other mysterious things happening. The Jiang Shi, the blood drinkers, they are here. And now this gambler, Devlin, their Lord, is in Virginia City as well. No we must wait, observe.”

  “What about our brother? Must he not be avenged Father?” Chow asked.

  “There is something different at the center of this my sons until it is revealed we must take no action.” Grandfather replied.

  The scavenger Wing watched from the shadows as the sons of Woo entered the Herbalist shop. He hated Grandfather Woo and his family. He was tired of the scraps that they threw his way along with the beatings that he received from Grandmother’s broom handle when she caught him harassing her customers. He crept closer and put his ear to the door. What he heard did not immediately register in his opium pickled brain, stuff about dragons and the Jaing Shi. All he knew was, if that old donkey’s pizzle, Grandfather Woo, was involved there was sure to be some profit in it and this time he wanted a share in it. They were whispering secrets like old women and Wing was a peddler of secrets, to the highest bidder, of course.

  All sorts of people made their way down to Chinatown and to Wing’s tent. Sooner or later he would hear something, a word dropped here and there. A boast or a confession blurted out in the midst of an opium delirium.

  He laughed soundlessly, then spit on the porch, and crept away into the dark.

  Chapter Nine

  The Wheel of Fortune

  If he were not confident about his back up plan, the fact that Devlin and that savage had survived the cave in, would have had Big Jim fit to be tied.

  As it was, a bottle of Orndorff’s best brandy and a hefty bribe served to corrupt the superintendent of an adjoining mine and convince him to let him, Big Jim, dig through to the shaft of the Gilded Bird.

  Outside on the boardwalk in front of the Delta they shook hands. Then Big Jim waddle off towards the Barbary Coast.

  The superintendent stared stupidly after him.

  The wad of Big Jim’s cash in his vest pocket felt greasy. It weighed heavy on his mind.

  What have I agreed to do? he thought.

  As the superintendent of a mine, to allow someone drill through from one mine to another, was akin to claim jumping. But he was broke, busted. Every dime he made was spent on the roulette wheel. That whirling, gilded whore that tortured his waking moments.

  He walked unsteadily back through the doors of the Delta saloon. He made his way to the roulette wheel and watched as she flirted with the crowd of gamblers that surrounded her.

  Unable to stand another minute away from her, he pushed his way through and plunked five hundred dollars on red twenty one. The wheel spun, clackety, clackety, clack, the bouncing ball hopped back and forth. It landed square in the slot of red twenty one. He was stunned and placed another bet on the next spin. He won that and the next and the next. Finally, at by two o’clock in the morning, he had quadrupled his money. He left the saloon on top of the world in a state of euphoria puffing on a big fat cigar. Outside in the moonlight he looked up at the stars. His winning streak must be a sign. He would let Big Jim begin digging at first light. The sound of gunshots filled the air a common sound to be heard in Virginia City.

  “Yee Haw,” he shouted to the sky.

  At that moment the fickle hand of fate appeared and a random bullet drilled him through his left ear and he fell like a stone onto the boardwalk.

  That same evening Devlin walked through the parlor of the Emerald Salon. His brush with a premature burial made him sharp set for the sight and feel of his Angel. He noticed that despite the events of the day the play in her salon was all in full swing. A quick glance showed him that Esmeralda was not at the Monte table but instead an elegant blond had taken her place.

  He walked over to the bar and spied the young lad that he had often seen hanging on Esmeralda’s skirts.

  “You there boy, where can I find your mistress?”

  Jamie froze. He looked up at Devlin and swallowed hard. “Don’t rightly know mister.”

  Devlin smiled, the boy had pluck. “Tell her I’m here and I would like to speak to her.” He leaned forward. Jamie’s eyes widened. “Don’t worry kid I am not going to bite,” he laughed.

  He watched Jamie take off towards the back of the house.

  Dahlia had also noticed when Devlin entered the salon. Her hopeful eyes followed him as he made his way to the stairs that led to Esmeralda’s room. Her hands paused in mid-deal. A sudden “Hey girlee!” brought her attention back to the Faro table. She continued her deal but ignored the lustful stares from the man opposite. She snuck a look at him from under her lashes. He was trash. She knew his type all too well. All dressed up in fancy duds but not a lick of class. Her hands fluttered and she palmed an ace, shifting it to the bottom of the deck.

  Take that Mr. Leonard White!

  Leonard cursed as he lost the play.

  He had also seen that bastard Devlin Winter enter the salon and watched the black haired little witch get all dewy when she saw him.

  Interesting, he thought, might be something here I could use.

  He pushed himself away from the table. “I’m all done in for tonight, darling,” he sneered.

  “You sure, mister?”

  He was sure that her wide blue eyes mocked him. Leonard got up from the table and took himself over to the bar. He ordered a whisky and waited. Sooner or later Winter would come back down. The gambler never stayed more than an hour most nights and Leonard had watched him every night since his rescue from the mine.

  Inside Esmeralda’s boudoir the glow from dozens of candles lit up the room. She reclined against a heap of satin pillows, as she lay naked in Devlin’s arms. Ever since the gunfight on A Street two days ago Devlin had visited her every night.

  She told him that she’d wanted to disappear, to leave on the next train out of town when she’d seen how he’d coldly dispatched the cowboy in the white hat. Before, she would never have hesitated to pick up and leave when things got too hot, but on this occasion her heart had its own wretched plan.

  “I curse the wicked thread that holds us together,” she sighed, as she held Devlin close. They lay quietly together, each exhausted by their violent lovemaking.

  “What are you thinking, Angel?”

  She looked up into his dark eyes. “We should just leave this town, now, tonight.”

  Devlin shook his head. “No. This thing must end here. Only then can we put the past behind us.”

  “Your past you mean. The same past that brought you to Red Bluff. I watched you die. I don’t want to go through that again besides, I have a bad feeling about this.”

  Devlin toyed with her long red hair. “I know what you have seen,” he said. “But you are too close you can’t see into it so clearly. What you can’t see is that if this isn’t ended, forever, we can never be free
.”

  “Surely you cannot call this ‘shadow life’ free?” He did not answer but instead silenced her with a kiss. She met his passion with her own then pulled away. “I want the truth from you, Devlin. What is your history with this evil? If I am to be caught up in this again I want to know why?”

  For a moment Devlin was silent. “The less you know the better. Know that you and I have an entwined destiny but in order to keep you safe, and until I have dealt with Big Jim and his hired guns, you must trust me.”

  “That is not good enough Devlin, If we have lived a life together before I want to know what happened. Tell me why this is happening again? Will you ever have a chance put your quest behind you?”

  Devlin could not answer all her questions. He knew the things he hoped for were on the far side of impossible. To give up was not an option. It had been a long time since he’d experienced fear. So long he hardly recognized its insidious grip. Now, as he held this woman in his arms he felt the fear and with it a fierce protectiveness towards his Angel.

  The events of his past which, had set the wheels of his fate in motion, were a gaping wound even after three hundred years. He wanted to tell her but he felt himself a coward. Instead he pulled her closer and kissed her silken breasts. She ran her fingers through his hair then stopped.

  “When will you be ready to speak of it?” she asked.

  "Not yet," he murmured. His hands caressed her body again and their conversation drifted into the sounds of lovemaking.

  Leonard still nursed a whiskey when Devlin came back downstairs. He sat with his back to the salon and glanced up to view the gambler from the mirror behind the bar. He saw only an empty stairwell. Quickly he swiveled around on his stool. Devlin walked coolly past him looking through him like he was a fly on the wall. Leonard could hardly believe what he just saw. Devlin Winter had shed no reflection. He knew what that meant. He might have been raised in the slums of New York, but his grand mammy was from Hungaria and Devlin was Nosferatu, the undead. Holy shit! He wondered if Big Jim had any idea what he was dealing with? Leonard did, now. His grand mammy had taught him a few things of dealing with them too.