Read Online The Chosen by Theresa Meyers - Free Book Online Page A

close to the building, threatening to break a window or two. Remington muttered a curse beneath his breath. He’d already had to repair his office building last time Colt had visited. This was getting to be a bad habit, and one that would get him ejected by his landlords if it continued.
    Colt shaded his eyes with his hand as a dark form emerged, then started to descend the swaying ladder. Remington tugged his hat down a bit to make it easier to see against the backlit shadow, but couldn’t make out who or what it was, though from the shape and the boots it looked to be a man. He kept his hand on his revolver, just in case.
    “About time you made it out,” a familiar voice shouted. Winchester. “I was beginning to wonder if Marley had told me wrong about you coming here.” A pair of tight-fitting, dark-lensed brass goggles obscured Winchester’s face, and he was wearing his black oilskin duster and his favorite black Stetson.
    Remington slid his revolver back into the holster just below his hip, relieved it was his older brother. Colt did the same.
    “What in tarnation are you doing on a vampire dirigible, Winn?” Colt called out.
    China rubbed her furry cheek and chin up against Colt’s leg, and he shooed her off with a flick of his hand. She answered with a low rumble in her chest and padded away to sit closer to Remington. He resisted the urge to comment and tightened his hand into a fist then released it, letting go of the urge to hit something. Clearly the shifter still wanted his little brother’s attention, but Colt was no longer interested. The realization that she’d sparked an emotional reaction in him—against his brother no less—stuck thick and hard in his throat. He’d have to be more mindful around her.
    Winchester made it farther down the ladder and hopped the last few feet to the ground. The dust billowed up in a cloud around him as he pulled the dark goggles down to rest around his neck. “Was made an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
    Remington gave their older brother a narrowed-eyed look, glancing upward at the dirigible. Offers unopen to refusal were dangerous. “You in trouble?”
    “No. Not yet. Seems the vampire royalty in Europe think they could use our help in tracking down a missing third of the Book. The contessa says they sent her here to request our assistance.”
    “Who they? Vampires? They want our help?” Disbelief tinted Colt’s tone and echoed in Remington’s thoughts. In general vampires didn’t need anyone—ever—unless it was for dinner.
    Winn shrugged. “Simple matter of survival. If Rathe wipes out humanity, their food supply disappears.”
    Just as he suspected. Remington grimaced, and his hand tightened reflexively on the butt of his revolver. “Hardly seems like the best of reasons for us to forge an alliance with them,” he muttered. Working with Darkin was an iffy proposition. It could always go either way, which was why he’d avoided doing so until now. Winn never did. Colt seemed to find dancing on that fine line between what was easy and what was right rather addictive.
    People were beginning to peek out from behind their closed doors. Across the street the tinny sound of a piano started up again. As odd as the dirigible was, nothing could get the hardy souls of Tombstone ruffled for long. It was part of the reason he’d settled here. The oddity of being a part-time attorney and part-time Hunter didn’t faze the residents of Tombstone any. Not when they’d already had the likes of Wyatt Earp and his brothers as the law in their town.
    A gust of wind blew, kicking up dust along the mostly deserted street and making the rope ladder sway. Colt peered up at the windows to the law office, and Remington followed his longing look. The succubus, silhouetted behind the glass, looked down at the unfolding tableau on Allen Street, her arms crossed, nibbling her lip.
    He considered the irony. Their pa would be twisting in his grave if he could see his boys