Free The Slayer by Theresa Meyers Page B

dangerous-looking implements that Winn had never even seen before. “Now where did I put it?”
    Marley dug through a stack of what looked like crazy bows and arrows to Winn. “Ah, here it is!” Marley pulled out a heavy crossbow with a circular bolt holder on top that looked an awful lot like the bullet chamber of a revolver to Winn. It had a crank where the handle joined the top of the bow and a series of intricate pulleys and wheels.
    Winn whistled long and low. “That’s some crossbow, Marley.”
    â€œIt’s an Amanarath. Should slay anything Darkin when the proper silver or jade-tipped bolts are used. The windlasses and special clockworks allow it to re-tension the bow quickly. And this little bit,” he said as he tapped the crank, “is my personal favorite.”
    Winn took the crossbow from his friend, holding it up and sighting down the shaft. It had heft and was exquisitely balanced for a bow. “What’s it do?”
    â€œIt automatically reloads the bolts, allowing you to shoot multiple bolts very quickly.”
    â€œYou mean like a Gatling gun?”
    Marley’s mouth widened into a pleased smile. “Precisely.”
    â€œDamn.” Winn hefted the solid weight of the weapon in his hand. “That’s brilliant.”
    Marley’s smile widened even further. “Why thank you. It’s a bit of my own vision on the bow originally used by the Van Helsings.”
    â€œThe Van who’s?”
    The brilliance of his eyes faded slightly, and Marley shook his head. “Famous Hunters from the European branch of the Legion. It’s a very different world over there.”
    â€œAs good as this is, one weapon ain’t going to do the job. Got anything else?”
    Marley tapped his finger to his lips. “Where are you going, precisely?”
    â€œTransylvania. Going to meet His Vampiric Imperial Majesty, Vladimir the Fifth.”
    Marley’s brown eyes widened, and his face turned a bit ashen. “Oh! Well, in that case, you’ll also want this.”
    Winn slung the crossbow over his back, adjusting the strap around his chest while Marley dug through another stack of weapons comprised of various shapes and sizes of glass bulbs, tubes, and wires. He pulled out a small brass gun outfitted with a large glass jar in the base.
    He handed it to Winn, and it felt so insubstantial that Winn wasn’t certain it would make it through a single use. “What the hell is this?”
    â€œRepeating water gun.”
    Win bit back a laugh. He was going to fight the Darkin with a liquid-shooting pistol? “Water?”
    Marley lifted up on his toes, pulling a brown bottle off the shelf that seemed to hold all manner of ammunition. “Holy water.”
    Almost as useless. “That stuff don’t kill vampires, Marley.”
    â€œI know, but it’s hell on werewolves and useful against demons. It’ll scald them like acid.”
    Winn wasn’t planning on interacting with werewolves, but he shrugged and took the proffered bottle. Overhead the boards creaked. Both of them looked up as a bit of dirt filtered down through the cracks in the floorboards. A red light on Marley’s belt began to flash. “Darkin!” His whisper was harsh. He grabbed a silver-tipped pike pole and started for the stairs.
    â€œNow hold up a minute, Marley.” Winn grabbed him by the shirt. “It might be those vampires I’m working with. Let’s not be too hasty. In fact, the Contessa Drossenburg is a big admirer of your work. Even called you Sir Turlock.”
    Marley turned, the tip of the pike dropping to the floor, and stared at Winn, a perplexed look on his face. “She knew me?”
    Winn shrugged. “She knew about you, at least. Was all hot ’n’ bothered to meet you in person.”
    Marley swallowed hard. “Really? How do you know it’s not a Darkin ploy to murder me?”
    Winn frowned. He