The Slayer Read Online Free PDF

waist, but never took his gaze off of Winn or his gun holster.
    Winn’s glance darted to the shadows, making sure there weren’t others waiting in the wings. Finding none, he opened the door further. “Won’t you come in?” The distinct rotten-egg stench of sulfur emitted by nearly all Darkin was barely perceptible, but still tweaked his nose, making him hold his breath slightly as they passed.
    He shut the door behind them and offered the contessa the one chair he had, dusting the seat of it off since Hoss had been the last to sit on it. He figured the envoy was vampire enough to stand for a bit.
    Her blue-black skirts rustled as she sat stiffly and primly on the edge of the chair. The envoy stood, feet spread, hands clasped behind his lower back, in military fashion. Clearly neither of them planned on staying long. Good. He wasn’t in the mood to drag this out either.
    He settled into the spot behind his desk, giving him some kind of barrier between him and the vampires. The contessa’s gaze slid about the room, taking in the rough frontier conditions of his jail, making him feel like he was being looked down upon. Winn bristled. She stared pointedly at his hat, and Winn got uncomfortable enough to remove his favorite black Stetson, setting it on the top of his desk.
    Her gaze connected with his, assessing him in the same manner she had assessed the Bodie jail that had defined his life for the past five years. “The American West is indeed a wild place.” She paused, a frown drawing the dark wings of her brows together, as if choosing her next words with care. “Are you satisfied being a peacekeeper among your people?”
    â€œAre you asking if I miss hunting?”
    She gave a nearly imperceptible shrug of her shoulders. “It never hurts to know the people one hopes to work with in dangerous times.”
    Winn leaned forward in his chair. “So why don’t we just stop the square dancing, and you tell me why you really want me to come with you so badly.”
    â€œHis Imperial—”
    â€œI didn’t ask what His Majesty wanted,” Winn interrupted, growing impatient with the faux politeness being passed around the table. He wanted to know what stake she had in all this. “I asked about you.” That would tell him everything he needed to know.
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    Alexa eyed him, trying to read his thoughts, and found them effectively blocked. How was that possible? In all her centuries as a vampire she’d never run into a mortal that she could not access or read. He had to be strong, very strong, and well-trained.
    But they were treading on territory too close to home for her taste. “Have you any children, Mr. Jackson?”
    Winchester snorted. “No. Haven’t really ever led the kind of life that was conducive to having children.”
    She sighed, irritation lacing her exhale. “Have you ever lost someone close to you, someone who you loved more than life itself?”
    Sorrow glistened for an instant in his brilliant blue eyes, then was ruthlessly shuttered away. He’d lost someone dear to him, and likely in a brutal fashion.
    â€œI can see you have,” she said simply.
    â€œWhat does that have to do with your wanting me to tag along to the vampire motherland and help recover the missing piece of the Book?”
    Alexa gripped her hands tighter, making the black kid leather squeak slightly. “Mr. Jackson, over the past several hundred years I’ve watched everyone dear to me, all my mortal family and friends, die. I’ve even watched some of those I’ve transformed, my own children by gift, perish at the hands of Hunters like yourself.”
    â€œI don’t hunt anymore,” he practically growled.
    She briefly nodded in acknowledgment. “Regardless, you don’t forget.”
    His bottom lip flattened into a hard line beneath his dark mustache.
    â€œI refuse to stand by and watch my children by