The Slayer Read Free Page B

whiskey into the glass and swirled the tawny liquid around.
    It reminded him of the contessa’s eyes, so clear and pure a color they were almost translucent amber. They were very unusual. Very pretty. But where there were Darkin, Hunters died. Where there were Darkin, the loved ones of Hunters died.
    Years ago, his mother’s blue eyes had gone wide with shock, her hand shaking and slick red with her lifeblood as she pulled it away from the spot the bullet had struck. Winn’s legs wouldn’t move. He couldn’t even speak. The demon he’d meant to shoot had laughed, then turned into a black smudge in the air. The bullet had passed straight through it. His mother had sunk to her knees and fallen forward in the dirt, her honey-colored hair coming loose from the twist she always kept it in.
    Time had seemed insanely slow as he stumbled toward her, falling beside her. “Mama?” He’d turned her over, but it was too late. Her eyes were open, but they were hollow. All the life in them was gone.
    His stomach roiled at the memory, bile rising up in the back of his throat. Winn struggled to bring his shaking hand under control. He slammed the glass on the desktop, making the whiskey slosh over the rim. He cupped the back of his head with his hands and closed his eyes, breathing out in a slow, steady stream to calm his raging heartbeat.
    His pa had spouted off the platitudes of it not being his fault. He hadn’t known what the demon could do and that it took special bullets to wound one. He’d meant to do the right thing. But the distance between what Winn had meant to do and what had actually happened was from Bodie to the moon. Winn had never stopped blaming himself. His world was black and white. He’d killed his mother, and he’d only been twelve. Only he and Pa had known.
    The disaster with the demon almost drowning Colt ten years ago, then hitting Winn with an axe that almost cost him his leg, had been the last straw. Much as Pa wanted him to be a Hunter, he wasn’t fit for it. He wasn’t about to be the reason he lost his brothers too.
    That vampire was just going to have to find some other poor sap Hunter to help her.

Chapter 2
    The heavy thud of boots on the worn wooden steps outside the jail two hours later was the first clue Winn had visitors.
    He pulled the pistol from his hip holster, cocked it, and held it level to the top of his battered desk, far more wary than he had been when his day had started. His brow furrowed and his eyes grew dry as he refused to blink. The seconds seemed to stretch in the late afternoon heat.
    The door flew open as it was kicked inward. Winn’s shoulders relaxed when he recognized the silhouette. His little brother Colt formed a dark shadow in the doorway, the bright sunshine outlining him. A smaller silhouette—that of a woman whose backlit red hair turned to flame in the sunlight—was close on his heels. Colt and the woman looked as though they’d been dragged behind a stage, maybe even trampled by the horses. Their torn, dirty clothing was splattered with dried blood.
    Winn’s heart stopped beating for a second as he tried to ascertain if it was his brother’s blood or someone else’s. By the pissed look on Colt’s face he guessed it might be a bit of both. But he was relieved his brother was still standing.
    Colt pulled the woman in with him. The dirty blue calico hung limp and ragged from her shoulders, and her hem was torn clear up to the thigh, exposing long, shapely legs in torn fishnet stockings. Colt had his hand manacled about her wrist, and she didn’t seem to be resisting. Who the hell was she, and what had she done to his brother down in the mine while he searched for the Book?
    Winn shoved his Stetson back to get a better view. “What happened?”
    Colt threw him a dirty, accusatory look. “We found the damn door. We got in. We got the wooden box open. There was nothin’ in