Free The Slayer by Theresa Meyers Page A

whatever they’ve decoded might make a difference?”
    Marley picked one of the tools out of his heavy belt and twisted the top of it absently. “Considering how well-guarded it was, it certainly has potential.”
    Winn glanced back over his shoulder in the direction of the airship that loomed like a large balloon over Marley’s home, casting the yard in an enormous shadow. “I only stopped by because I’m leaving on a trip. I suppose I could go to Tombstone, find out what Pa meant, and deliver Tempus, then leave.”
    â€œBy airship you could be there in a trice.” Marley’s eyes lit up with a curious gleam. He tucked his tool back in his belt and clasped his hands together. “A trip? Where are you going, if I may be so bold as to inquire?”
    â€œEurope.”
    Winn was surprised Marley didn’t even flinch at the surprising news. “Any chance you might be passing by London?” he asked simply.
    Winn quirked a brow. “Why?”
    â€œI have some rather special plans I’d like hand-delivered to Her Majesty, without interference. If you ascertain my meaning.”
    Winn shrugged. “I could try.”
    â€œLovely, lovely,” Marley said as he waved him toward the building. Winn followed him into the dark recesses of the house, if it could really be called a house. It was more like a laboratory gone berserk.
    Piles of papers and books teetered in stacks. Glassware, wire, and bits of metal were heaped upon nearly every available surface. An entire wall housed nothing but different clocks of all sorts. In short, it was a pack rat’s paradise. And the faint odor of ammonia and dust permeated the air.
    â€œThis job wouldn’t possibly have anything to do with the Drossenburg vampire court, would it?” Marley asked. He shut the door behind them, causing dust motes to swirl in the shafts of sunlight that leaked in past the heavy velvet draperies.
    â€œTold them that emblem on their dirigible was a dead giveaway.”
    Marley shook his head as he pushed through a pile of old papers. “What is the world coming to? How is it that you come to be working with vampires, and your brother has partnered up with a succubus?”
    Winn shook his head and pulled on the waxed end of his mustache. “Beats me, Marley. That’s a mystery as much to me as anybody. All I know is they want my help in recovering the second part of the Book. They say it’s been stolen.”
    Marley’s eyes narrowed. He folded his arms over his chest, the corners of his mouth hardening in disapproval. “You’d better be careful, Winchester. Vampires always have their own agenda. You know what they say—”
    â€œYeah. Never trust a Darkin.”
    â€œPrecisely.”
    â€œSay, you know something about the Darkin they’ve got over in Europe. You got anything that I might find useful?”
    Marley’s eyes sparked with manic delight as he grabbed hold of Winn’s arm and pulled him down the hallway. “Of course, old chap. Right this way.”
    They approached a door Winn was certain led to just another bedroom, but when Marley opened it the smells of dank earth and mustiness eddied out. Marley grabbed an oil lamp from a nail on the wall and lit it, leading Winn down a rough wooden staircase. In any normal house this would have been the basement or root cellar, but in Marley’s place it was an armory.
    Winn tried to take it all in. The swords and pikes, shields and steel traps, an entire wall of different guns and gizmos. “Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat, Marley, what the hell are you doing with all this stuff? Starting your own war?”
    The clatter of gears and wheels turning preceded the crackle and bluish light of an arc lamp that brilliantly lit up the room as bright as the broad daylight outside. “Oh, these are remnants, mostly,” Marley murmured, surveying the stacks of spikes, guns, and other