The Slayer Read Free

would like you to accompany us to his main palace in Europe and join in recovering the second third of the Book of Legend.”
    â€œYou know where another piece is?”
    â€œWe did. For six hundred years it had been stored within the royal castle. But recently it was stolen. If you are willing, His Vampiric Imperial Majesty’s envoy and I would like to return this evening to discuss retaining your services.”
    Winn pressed his lips together. He wasn’t about to hire out to a vampire—imperial, majestic or otherwise. He didn’t work with supernaturals, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to work for them.
    â€œLet’s get one thing straight, Lady Drossenburg. If I decide to help you, and I’m not saying I will, it will be on my terms, and not because I give a rat’s ass what your high and mightiness back home thinks. We clear on that?”
    A fine little tic worked at the corner of her eye, but otherwise her face remained perfectly smooth. Clearly she was as uncomfortable with this little arrangement as he was. Good.
    She bowed her head and dropped into an elegant curtsey, the pale dust marring the edges of her dark skirt. “Of course, Mr. Jackson.”
    â€œWe’ll meet at the jail in Bodie. Ten o’clock tonight suit you?” There was no point in making it too early. He’d need time to prepare, for one thing, and for another he wasn’t exactly anxious to go it alone with two vampires, possibly more. It might be a diplomatic mission, but he wasn’t some stupid, average hick. He’d been trained by the best Hunters around, and a man didn’t forget hard lessons like those.
    She rose from the curtsey and lifted her chin with a defiant tilt. The blood-drop earrings at her earlobes danced with the movement of her head, calling attention to the smooth, supple skin just below her ear. “As you wish. We shall see you this evening.”
    Winn nodded. He wasn’t happy about the appointment, but saying so wasn’t going to make the situation any better. With the coach gone, he had no idea how she planned to get back to—wherever she’d come from, or if she intended to walk the three miles into town. She strode, her bustle swaying, in a slow, graceful pace toward the open desert, away from Bodie. One second she was there, a dark mark against the too-tan landscape, and the next she turned into a spiral of dark smoke that dissipated on the breeze.
    â€œDamn vampires,” Winn muttered to himself, looking at the mess she’d left behind. High overhead three buzzards, their naked pink heads barely visible, circled in the sky. He’d have to get a deputy to come out here with Mortimer Brewster, the mortician in Bodie, to collect the bodies of the Dalton gang before only their picked-over bones remained. Carefully Winn dragged the bodies closer to the rocks, making a tableau that looked more like the attack of a mountain lion.
    Hoss groaned and stirred up a cloud of powder-fine dirt from the trail. Winchester grabbed him up by the collar of his shirt, hauling him to his feet. “Up and at ’em, Hoss.”
    The bandit shook his head and wobbled. “What happened?”
    â€œYou were damn lucky, Hoss. Damn lucky. This time.”
    â€œWhere am I?”
    Winn clenched his jaw, waiting to see exactly what Hoss remembered as he walked Hoss back toward town. He didn’t want to have to glamour him, but he would if he needed to. Pa’s theory had been that the best way to take down a Darkin was to know what made them tick and learn how to use it against them, so he’d trained Winn to cast a glamour, and a few other things he preferred not to think on too much.
    â€œWhere’s the boys?”
    Winn gazed at Hoss through the corner of his eye. “You were hiding up in the rocks waiting for the stage, weren’t you?”
    Hoss stumbled slightly. Winn caught him by the upper arm and kept him walking.
    â€œThe