Theresa Meyers - The Hunter (The Legend Chronicles)

The Hunter (The Legend Chronicles) — read online for free the complete book (whole text) full work

Below is the text of the book, divided by pages. System saving the place of the last page read, allows you to conveniently read the book "The Hunter (The Legend Chronicles)" online for free, without having to search again every time where you left off. Put a bookmark, and you can go to the page where you finished reading at any time.

Light

Font size:

↓

↑

Georgia Tahoma Arial Verdana

Reset

Interval:

↓

↑

Bookmark:

Make

1234567...73

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Arizona Territory
1883

Hed finally managed to wash the dark, sticky, tar-like blood off his hands. Thered been no hope for his clothes.

Hed had to burn them.

A man couldnt be too careful. For the likes of Colt Jackson, a Hunter born and bred, danger lurked everywhere, even in a place as innocuous as a worn-out bar that reeked of old tobacco smoke laced with the eye-watering fumes of rotgut whiskey. But neither of those blotted out the telltale stink of sulfur. Something supernatural lurked close by. Hed bet his gun hand on it.

Everything in the little mining town turned ice hub in Arizona Territory seemed coated with a ghostly layer of grit, even the chipped crystal chandeliers overhead. He felt the grit in his lungs and in his nostrils. It stank of putrid eggs and worse, probably from the smokestacks billowing white outside against an endless cerulean sky. He picked up his smeared, nearly empty glass of ice water, leaving behind a dark ring in the pale dust on the scarred, liquor-sticky table.

Hell, the only reason hed stopped in Wickenburg in the first place was for the ice. Ever since the mines deep in the desert had flooded out and ingenious businessmen replaced the old rock crushers with steam-powered freeze machines, ice had become one of the most profitable commodities next to copper, gold, and silver in this special little sizzling corner of Hell on earth. He glared at his glass. The ice water had cost him almost as much as a good whiskey.

The lithe blond saloon girl hed been eyeing since he walked in strolled toward him across the warped wooden floorboards worn smooth from the sand of so many boots. Her hips swayed to the sound of the out-of-tune piano plunking away near the stairs that led up to the rented rooms on the second floor. The cheap glass beading on her dark blue off-the-shoulder dance-hall dress flashed in the illumination of the gaslights overhead, creating sparkles to dance along the curves of her pale cleavage.

Would you like some company, sugar? Her smile didnt reach her heavily kohled eyes. She was anywhere between sixteen and thirty. How many men had she had? Worse, did he really care? He wanted the comfort of someone who smelled sweet and womanly. Someone in whose arms he could forget, if only for a few hours, who and what he was.

Colt smiled wide. Enough women had told him his smile was dead gorgeous that hed learned when to use it to his advantage. Hed dressed with more care than usual tonight, in clean black trousers, a starched white shirt, and a black brocade vest threaded with a pattern of silver and blue hed been told matched the blue in his eyes. Seemed the effort had been worth it. Yes, maam.

She cuddled up beside him, throwing a long, smooth leg, bare to the thigh, over his. So what brings you to Wickenburg, cowboy?

He slid a hand over her smooth thigh. Hunting.

She let out a husky laugh, full red lips tilting up in a come-hither pout. Most men here are lookin to strike it rich in ice. But I knew you was different the moment I saw you. In fact, Ive seen your face before. Whats your name?

Colt tensed. He worked fairly hard at keeping a low profile, but every now and then a completely unwarranted wanted poster tended to circulate with his likeness. Colt Jackson.

Relax, handsome, she said, rubbing her hand over his chest, delving beneath the edge of his vest. He felt the heat of her hand through his shirt as her soft fingers stroked right over his heart. We get outlaws in here all the time.

Yeah, but Colt seriously doubted they were anything like him. Her constant kneading touch began to drain the tension out of his shoulders, but only a little. His gun hand had started itching the moment hed stepped into the bar, and his instincts had never steered him wrong before. Something in this little town wasnt right.

So, are you famous? Are you dangerous? she asked, her fingers threading through his shock of nearly black hair as she wriggled on his lap. Her perfume was way too strong, and verging on unpleasant. Her skin under all that makeup looked dirty. Her blond hair felt stiff and brittle beneath his fingers and he dropped his hand to her waist, feeling whalebone and crisp satin, not silky skin.

Not exactly, Colt muttered, finding her less appealing by the moment. Really more like a modern Robin Hood.

Glossy ruby lips pouted. Its so much more fun when youre dangerous. He realized that it didnt matter how much he wanted or needed a woman right now, a tumble wasnt going to give him what he truly wanted and could never havea home, a place where he belonged. No matter how delectable she looked, she wouldnt satisfy the deeper craving.

These days nothing could. There wasnt a way to feed the hunger that gnawed deep down, belly-deep. It bit into his bones and wouldnt let go. Hunting was a like a drug. Once a man knew supernaturals existed, he saw the Darkin everywhere. Once a Hunter knew that those creatures were the cause behind deaths no one else could explain, duty lay heavy on his shoulders.

Once a Hunter started hunting, he couldnt just stop.

Evil didnt take a holiday. Hunting wasnt a profession, it was a way of life.

For an instant he wished he could be like his older brothers, Winchester and Remington, upstanding citizens who didnt run from place to place even if they too were named after his pas favorite guns. While the Jackson brothers looked a lot alike on the outside, with their pas jet hair and wide shoulders and their mas blue eyes and winning smile, they were different as could be on the inside.

Winn was a solid, steady, ordinary man. Remy straddled the line, looking respectable but hunting on the side. But being like Winn and Remy wasnt Colts destiny. No, Colt had every intention of living up to the family legend his pa Cyrus Black Jack Jackson had started as one of the most notorious outlaws of the western territories, rather than living it down like his brothers. That was the life of a Hunter. Tracking down supernatural monsters one at a time and killing them to make the world a safer place.

Winn and Remy might have shirked their responsibilities to the Legion of Hunters, but he never would. Because once Pa had trained him, hed revealed something to Colt he hadnt to Winn or Remy.

There would come a time when the far-flung pieces of the Book of Legend would have to be brought together or humanity would perish. This grimy ice hub was just one more stop in his three-year search to uncover the hiding place of his pas portion of the Book to prepare for the showdown with the Darkin, if and when it happened.

So tell me somthin, mister. If youre a gunslinger, wheres your gun? She snaked a hand down to wrap around the inside of his thigh, rubbing suggestively at his groin and wriggling her bottom into his lap. That got his attention. Itd been a long time since hed rested long enough to find a woman. If hed been a less focused man, all the blood would have drained out of his brain right then and there regardless of how shed looked.

With practiced ease she slipped one leg over the far side so she straddled him. The damp heat of her seeped right through his britches. He let out a ragged breath and she pressed forward, her soft breasts pushing against his chest as she skimmed the tip of her soft, slick tongue along his neck.

Then he heard it. Right next to his ear. The distinct sudden flick of a vampires fangs being extended. He caught a sudden whiff of sulfur so strong it burned.

Colt reared up from the chair, but the vampire clung to him, her smooth legs firmly gripping his middle with the strength of a metal handcuff. Knowing he had only seconds to act, he shoved an arm between them, pushing her away from the blood pumping hard and fast in his neck.

Next page

1234567...73

Light

Font size:

↓

↑

Georgia Tahoma Arial Verdana

Reset

Interval:

↓

↑

Bookmark:

Make

Similar books «The Hunter (The Legend Chronicles)»

Look at similar books to The Hunter (The Legend Chronicles). We have selected literature similar in name and meaning in the hope of providing readers with more options to find new, interesting, not yet read works.

Vivi Anna

Releasing the Hunter

Caitlin Kittredge

Demon Bound

Richelle Mead

Succubus Heat

Richelle Mead

Succubus Blues

Michael E Haskew

Colt: An American Classic

Colt McCoy

Growing Up Colt: A Father, a Son, a Life in Football

FAUSTUS CROW

DEMON GIRL BELPHEGOR: SUCCUBUS OF THE LOUVRE

Bella Colt [Colt

Birthright: Book 1: Know Thyself

George Howe Colt

November of the Soul: The Enigma of Suicide

James Tarr

Standard Catalog of Colt Firearms

Kris Greene

The Demon Hunt: A Dark Storm Novel

Meljean Brook

Demon Angel

Discussion, reviews of the book The Hunter (The Legend Chronicles) and just readers' own opinions. Leave your comments, write what you think about the work, its meaning or the main characters. Specify what exactly you liked and what you didn't like, and why you think so.