Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter

stories’ve been goin’ up and down the river for years. Wild stories. People talking about witches, and devils, and—”
“Vampires?”
All trace of humor left Jack’s face at the mention of the word.
“People talking nonsense. Just scared is all.”
Maybe it was the half a bottle of peach brandy in his blood, or the feeling that he’d found a kindred spirit. Maybe he just couldn’t stand to keep all those secrets to himself anymore. Whatever the reason, Abe made a very sudden, very risky decision.
“Jack… if I tell you something incredible, will you promise to hear me fairly?”

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter
III
Abe paced back and forth… back and forth over the soft dirt of the street, throwing the occasional glance toward the newly finished courthouse on the other side of the square and at the second floor of the saloon across the street, where a light still burned behind the curtained window of a whore. The late-summer weather was much more agreeable this time around. So was the company.
It had taken no small amount of persuasion, but Jack had at last agreed to come to Springfield. At first, he had refused to believe a word of it—going so far as to call me a “damned liar” and threatening to “thrash” me for thinking him a fool. I begged his patience, however, and promised that I would either prove every word true, or pack my things and leave New Salem forever. I made this promise with every expectation of success, for that very morning a letter had at long last arrived.
The letter was addressed exactly as Abe had instructed above Henry’s fireplace:
ABRAHAM LINCOLN
WEST OF DECATUR, ILLINOIS
CARE OF MR. JOHN HANKS
It had been delivered to his relatives two weeks earlier, and forwarded to New Salem. Abe had torn it open upon seeing the familiar handwriting, and read it a dozen times at the counter throughout the day.
Abraham,
My apologies for not having written these many months. Vanishing is, I regret, a necessary part of my existence from time to time. I will write more often when I have settled into a more permanent home. In the interim, I hope you have settled into yours happily, and remain in good spirits and health. If you remain agreeable, you may visit upon the individual named below at your leisure. I believe him only a short ride from where you are now. I must warn you, however—he is quite a bit cleverer than those you have visited on in the past. You may well mistake him for one of your own kind.
Timothy Douglas.
The tavern near the square.
Calhoun.
Ever,
—H
Abe knew the tavern well. It was, after all, the site of his greatest vampire-hunting embarrassment. Could I have been right all along? Had the half-naked man who’d run off screaming for help been a vampire after all?
We walked in, plainly dressed (my long coat stored in my saddlebag outside). I took in the faces at each table, half expecting to see the curly-haired gentleman glaring back in his snow-covered long shirt. Would he run at the sight of me? Would his vampire nature compel him to attack? But I saw him not. Jack and I made to the counter, where the aproned barkeep busied himself polishing a whiskey glass.
“Pardon me, sir. My friend and I are looking for a Mr. Douglas.”
“Tim Douglas?” asked the barkeep, his eyes fixed on his work.
“The same.”
“And what business might you and Mr. Douglas have?”
“Business of an urgent and private sort. Do you know where he is?”
The barkeep seemed amused.
“Well, sir, you needn’t look far, that’s for certain.”
He put down the glass and stuck out his hand. “Tim Douglas. And your name, sir?”
Jack burst out laughing. There had to be some mistake. This inconsequential little man—a man who spent his nights polishing dirty glasses and playing matchmaker to whores and drunks? This was Henry’s vampire? Of course, I had no choice but take his hand, and did so. It was as pink and warm as my own.
“Hanks,” said Abe. “Abe Hanks, and I beg your forgiveness, for I mistook you to say ‘Tom’ Douglas. Yes, Thomas Douglas is the gentleman we’re looking for. Do you know where we might find him?”
“Well, sir, no. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with anyone by that name.”
“Then I thank you for your trouble and bid you a good night.”
Abe hurried out of the tavern, Jack laughing all the while behind him.
I resolved to wait. We had come this far, and Henry had never failed me in the past. At the very least, we would wait for this barkeep to close up