Read The Slayer for Free Online Page A

he’d settled his Stetson on his head and grabbed a long black oilcloth duster and his rifle from an iron nail on the rough wall. She didn’t miss the gun belt and holster strapped to his thigh that disappeared behind the oilcloth or the glint of the bowie knife handle in the top of his boot.
    â€œJust past the cell block on the left is the back door to get to the outhouse. Get her out of here. Now,” Mr. Jackson said low and deep. He hunkered down behind his desk and leveled his rifle, taking aim at the door.
    The telltale odor of sulfur might be faint to Mr. Jackson, but now that she noticed it, Alexa didn’t know how she’d ignored it before. There were Darkin outside. How many, she didn’t know. But they must be here for him.
    His Imperial Majesty said Jackson was key to defeating Rathe. Surely the other side, under Rathe’s command, was just as eager to keep him from reaching Europe as the vampires were to get him there. Enric grabbed her by the elbow and tried to steer her toward the door at the back of the Bodie jail. Alexa yanked her arm from his grip. I’m staying.
    With all due respect, my lady, my job is to protect you.
    She glared at Enric. And my job is to protect him.
    Enric frowned. Very well. We will both stand and fight.
    Â 
    Â 
    Today had been filled with enough weird encounters with Darkin that Winn wasn’t exactly sure what to make of the ones coming his way now.
    A loose board on the rickety porch right in front of the door creaked. Winn slipped his finger over the trigger of his shotgun. No use taking chances. The knob on the front door rotated, then stopped. The back door clicked shut.
    There was a muffled curse and a hiss, then the sound of running feet that doubled around the back of the jail.
    Winn shot up out of his stance and rushed the front door, yanking it open only to find darkness. There was no one to be seen. “Damn,” Winn muttered.
    A heavy blow near the back of his neck sent a spurt of stars into his vision. Winn wheeled around, trying to use the butt of his rifle on his attacker. He grunted, landing one blow, but the man was too fast, or invisible.
    The stench of sulfur cut through the night air, sharp and pungent, burning in his nose and eyes, but Winn couldn’t see the creature’s face until he stepped into the pool of light coming through the doorway.
    Winn went momentarily rigid as he saw the face of Hoss Dalton.
    â€œWhat the hell—”
    A fist like a sledgehammer slammed hard against his jaw, making Winn stumble back. Didn’t matter what the bastard looked like, he had a hard right hook, and no way could Hoss hit that hard. Winn bent low and grabbed up his rifle, firing it point blank in the belly of the Darkin while he could still see the bastard.
    The creature stumbled back screaming, its voice fading to a thin wail almost like a steam whistle as the silver in Marley’s special bullets dissolved the Darkin into a column of acrid black smoke.
    â€œThat’s one down,” he muttered. Winn didn’t waste a second. He dashed inside, grabbed his black knapsack, slapped his rifle holster and gun on his back, and ran out the back door. Enric and the contessa were fighting with two more Darkin that looked like members of Dalton’s gang. Damn shifters. They must have gotten to the bodies and taken the skins before the mortician reached them.
    Bits of flashing light were still sparking in his vision, but he could see the vampires and shifters were equally matched. If he’d been a normal Hunter, he would have sat back, poured himself a shot of whiskey, and watched the show, but nothing about this was normal. He’d already given his word to help the vampires, and even if he wasn’t a Hunter any longer, Winn was still a man of his word.
    He squinted, trying hard to aim at the shifters in the dark, but the vampires moved so damned fast he couldn’t get a clean shot. He settled for winging one