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There were candles, big thick ones that would burn all day, and somehow, Victor wasn't particularly surprised. There were also coffins, not really necessary this deep underground, but most vampires who slept in coffins that he'd seen anyway didn't polish them till one could almost see the reflection that probably wouldn't be there. The whole set up reached of a poser vampire who tried to think of themselves as romantics. What confused Victor was the well. It was about two yards across, and tiled in a mosaic pattern around the edge, and into the well, down to where it met the black water that filled it, only about two feet down. Just over the lip was a ring of gems that looked like living eyes. It didn't match the rest of the decor except in the most abstract way, and it didn't match the feeling of "I'm immortal, pity me" that the rest of the furnishings put forth. But then again - neither did ripping people apart.

"Alberto," whispered Angel.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever come near this place before?"

"No." He shook his head. "I only killed the ones that attacked the town - that's the way it works." Victor grunted and kicked over a coffin. It sprawled off of its stand, and crashed onto the beaten earthen floor beneath their feet. The lid clattered open - empty.

"Uh-oh. Decoy."

With no warning, not even a suitably dramatic hiss of menace, the vampires sprang, from the ceiling far above from the shadows, from beneath the coffin stands, even one from inside a coffin leaned against the wall - that vampire looked especially pleased with himself. In total, there were about eight - not insurmountable. The hunters had automatically gone to the defensive, back to back weapons out and ready. Alberto was facing the well.

"Angel, I have a question."

"Now is not the time." Victor fired his gun into the chest of a female vampire who'd tried to get close enough to touch him. "But shoot."

"If that well you were looking at starts to sort of boil, and the water turns out to be more of a red than a black, that counts as a very bad thing, yes?"

"Yes it does. I hate cultists." He turned and ran a stake through the throat of a male vampire to his left. There was a brief flurry of combat and the hunters ended up against the wall so Victor could get a good look at the well.

"Oh shit." Out of the roiling red mass came a vampire - spotless of course, and clad in white, like some sort of ghost ready for a night on the town.

"Oh how nice, drop in dinner."

Victor lit a clove on the butt of his last one. "New material!" he demanded, tossing the butt into the well, where it sizzled for a moment. "If I had a 'Dancer crown for every time some flaky vampire said that, I wouldn't be working for bounties." Alberto looked sideways at Victor, totally confused. "But I will say one thing, at least he respects the classics."

"Angel, what are you doing?"

"It's called being flippant. It keeps me from making a mess."

"You know that vampire you shot..."

"Yes?"

"I think it's getting back up..."

"You'd be the hunter from Milminsford," the white clad vampire said, stepping down onto the tiles around the well as the bubbles subsided, and helping the female vampire with a giant hole in her blouse to her feet. "But you, small big-mouthed one - you I do not know."

"I'm called Angel Shelly, I'll be killing you this evening."

"Angel..." Alberto said nervously. He did not like this flippant thing.

"I don't think our lord would allow it."

"Oh you that's just too bad," Victor said, stepping away from the wall a bit. "You see, I never got this vampire in service to the dark powers thing - I mean, what have you got that they could possibly want, you don't have any souls, or lives, so..."

"Precisely. I sell other people¹s lives."

"Ooh, an undead insurance agent. I'm scared." And Victor raised his gun and fired, blowing away most of the vampire's head. White cape fluttering he fell backwards, landing back in the well with a plop.

"You know Angel, I'd really like it if we could just kill or be killed," sighed Alberto readying his stake as the other vampires moved in "Because if you do anymore of this flippant bullshit, I'm going to have a fucking heart attack." With the skill only a trained hunter could, he flung the stake in his hand, catching one of the advancing vampires between the ribs and in the heart. The creature dissolved into dust.

"Okay, you see, that's more like it. I like it better when their bodies stick around, so I can make sure they're completely dead, but hey, you can't win'Œem all-ack....!" A vampire pounced from the ceiling driving the hunter down into the ground. Victor holstered his gun and picked up one of the candelabras, shoving it into one of the women's hair. She started to scream.

"You know..." came a steady, rich voice, dripping with malice. "That really hurt."

Victor didn't want to turn. He didn't want to see it, because he knew exactly what would be there. But he did anyway. The white-clad vampire was rising out of the well again, whole and looking really pissed off.

"Aw, shit," swore Victor.

Above them, a white shadow frowned and changed her stance. Even though it seemed a roofless vault, the ceiling was really about only thirty dark feet above... well above Clive, the white clad vampire with the bad attitude who was currently picking up Victor by the throat. It looked like he was having some trouble. That simply would not do. She didn't want the short bad tempered drifter to be hurt. She liked him. A lot. And these jokers, demonically aided or not were still just vampires. And dusters at that. No one was looking so...

Something cracked into the white clad vampire's head, causing him to drop Victor. The drifter choked as a pale blur leapt from on top of his head and flung itself back into the darkness. Victor didn't stop to wonder what had happened, he took the opening that even his watering eyes could see. Snarling, he pinned Clive to the ground, and thrust the stake home - through his breast bone, causing the wood to splinter.

Shit, thought Victor. I'm pissed - got to be careful - don't want Alberto to see this. He wouldn't trust me.

Two more vampires leapt at him and he bucked his feet upward, catching them both in the groin with a satisfying crunch. Another jerk of his arms sent him to his feet, and he came up ready, gun out. A few careful shots blew most of the torso away from the vampire about to bite pieces off of the local hunter. Alberto made another back away with a vicious uppercut with his knife.

"Alberto - here!" called Victor and tossed the hunter one of the stakes he'd been left the night before. The hunter plunged it into the vampire¹s chest, and rolled to his feet.

The rest of the fight was fairly quick and clean in comparison to some of the evils that Victor had faced. He lit a smoke and crouched down to inspect the well again.

"You bastard..." choked a voice. The drifter looked up to see the white clad leader of the coven glaring at him, half pinned to the floor with the stake. "I'll get you..."

"I doubt it. I think you'll be a bit dead soon."

"Ha... my... lord... won't... allow it... by hiss... blood and... mine... and... the pain... of ...innocence..." The vampire scrabbled towards the well. Alberto planted his booted heel in the base of the vampire¹s spine.

"That's sick," he spat. "Are you the one who induced my family's slaughter?"

"Yes... and they... tasted... sweet..." The boot whipped forward cracking the vampire's head forward onto the tiles, breaking a fang and spray a bit of dark blood towards the well. "I ... am...strong... you will..not.. win..."

"Oh?" asked Victor who looked at the vampire, and raised eyebrow, taking out his little clear bottle. "What would happen if I poured this in there?"

"And... what... is.. that?" Victor leaned forward and poured a bit on the vampire¹s hand. He screamed as the flesh of his hand boiled away.

Alberto kicked his head forward again. "Pour more on."

"What... is... that...?"

Angel put his arm out over the well, and tipped the bottle.

"No... I'll... please... no..."

"Fuck you," said Victor, and poured the bottle of holy water into the well. It began to sizzle, and boil. Then the cavern began to shake. The eyeshaped gems rolled glaring at Victor who took a step back. The mosaic around the well began to buckle, then fall inwards - he backed away further, the floor around the well began to fall in, leaving a large gaping black hole. One of the nearer candelabras fell in.

"Angel - " yelped Alberto. "How fast can you climb stairs?"

"Gotcha!"

They hit the stairs at the same time, and Victor let his companion go first on account of the hunter had longer legs and could take more steps at a time. He heard a deep roaring voice scream out his name, and chanced a glance back. The white clad vampire had gotten up, somehow, and grown, transforming into a strange creature in a ball of black light. Victor gave a bit of effort into trying to climb up the stairs backwards, firing at the ball at the same time. Alberto turned at the sound of the shots, and looped an arm under the dark drifter's armpits, dragging him up the stairs. It took half as long to get up as it had to get down. Below them, the stairs were crumbling, and falling away into darkness, suddenly the monster was struck with what appeared to be a large hunk of rock ceiling. Alberto pulled Victor through the basement door and pushed him towards the exit. The whole house shook as if in the grip of a great monster. Things crashed down all through the house. Victor still moved partly sideways not trusting what had happened. Something that might have been a chandelier, or part of one slammed down into Victor's wrist and attacked his tendons, causing his grip to open and the gun in that hand to fall, skittering across the tilted floor into the shadows.

"Damn it, I dropped my gun, hold on a second..."

"Come on, it's not that important! You can get a new one!" Despite his objections, Victor continued to retreat beside Alberto.

"You don't understand - it's from off planet - the bullets are a murder to get, let alone a whole new gun!"

"Trust me, Angel, it's not that important!"

"But it's my gun!" The ground shifted to an angle more commonly known as vertical at that point, and they scrabbled senselessly trying to get to the door which was now almost precisely over their heads. Alberto got his arm around the doorpost, and grabbed Victor's wrist.

"I can think of one thing a lot more important than that!" Somewhere below them, a lamp, or something tipped over and a ball of flame appeared. With a bit of scrambling they both made it through the door, and over the porch. "Namely," continued Alberto, somewhat out of breath, "getting out of there."

Victor glared at the collapsing sinkhole that had once been a house, then flashed a small smile back at Alberto.

"See, you feel better already, ready to live your life and all that bull."

Alberto looked at the house and grimaced.

"Actually, quite frankly, I could use a drink."

"Well we'd better keep moving then," Victor said as the edge of the sinkhole widened. "Because you remember how big that cavern was? There's gonna be a hole that big here in a minute!"

"Oh yeah!" yelped Alberto and they continued their scramble. Many minutes scramble into the woods, the ground stopped shaking and the hunters paused, and looked back. As Victor had predicted there was a huge hole, visible through the trees. Angel carefully moved forward and looked down. In the glimmering moonlight, he could see water, cool and crystal clean beginning to fill the hollow.

"Does this sort of thing happen to you often?" wheezed Alberto

"Why?" asked Victor, lighting a cigarette.

"Well you don't really seem as..." He waved his hands about. "Mother of God, well, shocked, as I am..." Victor scratched his head, and sighed, exhaling smoke.

"Sadly enough, this sort of thing does happen to me on a regular basis." He laughed.

"Mother of God," sighed the hunter shaking his head.

"I think... we should both get that drink you were talking about... and make sure everything is alright back at town."

"Quiet as a graveyard," yawned Shaper. "Something loped through town about midnight, but it sniffed the air and kept going."

"Good." Victor nodded. "We'll see just how good when Alberto makes his rounds to check on the outposts tomorrow."

The hunter lay with his head on the table, sleeping like a baby. Victor signaled the barkeep.

"Can you put him into a bed Mr. Manning, and put it on my bill?"

"It's nothing - he's our hunter, and I think you've done him a world of good, Mr. Shelly."

"There are many kinds of doctoring," he yawned. "I'm going to bed."

That night his dreams were empty.

It only took a day for Alberto to determine that his protectorate was alright. Another night of rest and Victor was ready to go. Alberto walked with them to the edge of his protectorate, and showed them a good road to Chandler's Pass.

"I wanted to thank you," Alberto said softly, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

"You're welcome."

"And I know you're heading on, right?"

"I'm heading towards Kesh to be exact. If there's anywhere I can get a new gun, that'd be it."

Shaper decided to get a bit of a head start on Victor. It wasn't as if the annoying little git wouldn't catch up quickly anyway. Which is why he missed what came after that. Alberto rather timidly leaned forward, and put his hand under Victor's chin, tilting his head up. Before the dark haired drifter even knew what was going on, Alberto had kissed Victor on the lips. Victor, in shock just stood there until Alberto had said goodbye and was out of sight. Then he carefully took out his handkerchief and wiped his mouth off. A lot. And made a small face of disgust.

It wasn't that Victor held anything against people who chose to live like that. In some passages prophets described love between angels, who were mostly male, so it must be alright with the Lord. But he just found it personal disgusting and would really rather not even give mouth to mouth to another guy if here was any sort of option available.

After a few moments' walk, he caught up with Shaper.

"How do you do that?" the risen creature demanded. "My legs are longer than yours!"

"Practice," he replied, lighting a clove. "Ready to go full throttle?"

"You're not going to run are you?"

"Oh no... you'd pass me in a minute, but then about twenty after that, I'd pass you again."

"You've gotta have some wolf in you somewhere," muttered Shaper.

Victor chuckled and sped up. Shaper started to fall behind, then smiled to himself, and put on his mask. Trotting to keep up with Victor's ground devouring pace, he smiled to himself some more, obviously quite pleased over his own brilliance. Victor avoided looking at him. It was like traveling with an eater of souls when he did that.

She climbed out of the pit sopping wet, veil-dress torn to shreds that didn't even begin to be decent. She scowled, displaying dainty fangs, and pushed wet white hair out of her pink eyes. Then she looked at what she was holding in her other hand and smiled. She raised it to the sky and gave a soundless laugh.

Victor stopped well outside Chandler's Pass, a day and a half later, to make Shaper take off the mask. They walked slowly into the town. It was a good sized town, all in all. Victor did notice with some curiosity the scorched quality to the earth in some places. He stopped and stirred it with his fingers, turning up grey ashes.

"What's up?"

"Something burned here."

"What?"

Victor's questing fingers came up with a few nails. "Looks like a house."

"Without a basement?"

"Apparently," the drifter stood up and looked around himself, at the pattern of trodden down grass and fields around the ashy area by the road. "Yup. Definitely a house burned here. And in the last few weeks."

"So what's that got to do with the price of death in Neo York?"

"Usually when a house burns down, someone tries to rebuild it."

"And...?"

"Well take a look, numb-nuts." Angel gestured around and lit a clove. "Does it look like anyone is trying to rebuild?"

"To be honest... no."

Victor grunted as he stood back up, and blew smoke out in a thin stream.

"That's right. Something's up, Shaper. I can feel it in my bones."

The town proper of Chandler's Pass also bore scorch marks here and there.

"It looks like it's a good thing it's been wet," Shaper commented, mouth full of a sausage he'd bought from a street vendor.

"Yep."

"What are we looking for?"

"The Last Candle."

"And what's that a metaphor for?"

"It's not. It's the name of an inn. Tulé's cousin works there."

"Oh." Shaper looked down at the last of his sausage. "What was in here?"

"Trust me, you're better off not knowing."