Blood Trail by J. R. Roberts Read Free Book Online

it.”
    Clint opened the box, saw the other items in Frederick Talbot’s vampire kit. He picked up a vial of liquid and asked, “What’s this?”
    â€œHoly water.”
    He put it back, picked up one of the wooden stakes inside the box, tested the tip with his thumb, then picked up a hammer. He held the stake in his hand—the proper way, Talbot noticed—and tapped it on the end with the hammer. Then he placed them very carefully back in the box.
    â€œI think I know what this is,” Clint said, “but why don’t you tell me?”
    â€œIt is my vampire kit.”
    â€œSo in your country you hunt . . .”
    â€œVampires.”
    â€œAnd you believe the murder to have been committed by a vampire?”
    â€œPossibly.”
    â€œWhat else could it be?”
    â€œWell . . .”
    â€œCome on, Talbot,” Clint said, “don’t stop now. What else did you hunt in your country?”
    Talbot hesitated, licked his lips, then said, “Werewolves.”
    â€œI’ve heard stories about vampires and werewolves,” Clint said. “According to the tracks you saw, which do you believe it to be?”
    â€œAccording to the tracks,” Talbot said, “a werewolf.”
    â€œThe large animal tracks, right?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd the bare footprint?” Clint asked. “The man’s before he turned into the wolf?”
    â€œYes.”
    Talbot seemed stunned by Clint’s apparent understanding of these creatures.
    Clint nodded, looked down at the open vampire kit on the bed.
    â€œWhat are you thinking?” Talbot asked.
    â€œI’ll tell you what I should be thinking,” Clint said. “That you’re crazy.”
    â€œBut you do not?”
    â€œI won’t say that,” Clint said. “But you’ve obviously hunted something in your country that had committed this same kind of atrocity. And I saw what was done to that body. I’m not sure we have anything in this country that would do that. Not any one creature anyway.”
    â€œWhat will you tell the sheriff about this?” Talbot asked.
    Clint closed the box and said, “Nothing. The sheriff would not have the same open mind that I do. He’d think you were crazy, and he would not let you come with us.”
    â€œBut you will let me come.”
    â€œYes.”
    Talbot took the box off the bed and put it back in the bag.
    â€œBut when we leave tomorrow,” Clint said, “I want you to have that gun in your belt, not in its box.”
    â€œAll right.”
    â€œCan you hit what you aim at with either gun?” Clint asked.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œMaybe when we get on the trail, we’ll have a look,” Clint said.
    â€œThat is fine.”
    Clint turned for the door, then turned back.
    â€œDon’t talk to anyone else about this.”
    â€œI will not.”
    Clint believed him. He knew, however, that in this country, everyone would think the man was crazy.
    Well, almost everyone.

SIXTEEN
    Back in his own room, Clint thought about the conversation he’d had with Frederick Talbot. And about what he had seen.
    A vampire kit. He’d heard of such a thing, but had never seen it. Now that he had, he thought he needed a drink, but decided against leaving his room.
    He took off his boots, hung his gun belt on the bedpost, and reclined on the bed, fully dressed.
    Vampires?
    Werewolves?
    Legends, right? But here was a man from a country where such things were thought to exist. And this man had actually hunted them. He knew Ray Bullet would never believe such a thing. They were going to have to be careful never to let the lawman see the kit, or hear them talking about it. If he did, he’d probably turn right around and come back to town, convinced that they were both out of their minds.
    He’d seen the tracks himself, now that Talbot had shown them to him. A bare foot in the blood, and a