The Witch and the Werewolf Read Online Free Page B

turned and fled at the
sight of the shotgun. “You broke my goddamn nose,” the boy
muttered, bleeding back into the crowd.
    Dutch shrugged the
encounter off and pushed through the revelers to the limo. He
stepped on the bumper and then the up to the trunk, without
Wilbanks even turning around. Shotgun forward he popped the blonde
in the back of the head, nailing her in the noggin with the barrel.
Both of them turned around and confusion reigned on the man’s
face.
    “ What the hell?” the man
asked simply, reaching into his waistband.
    Dutch, though not as quick
as he once was, was quicker, kicking away the big revolver and then
popping the man in the face with the butt of the shotgun. He fell
down into the interior of the limo, his face a bloody mess. Dutch
turned to the blonde, barrel pointed at her head.
    “ Inside missy,” he told
her, and then, when she hesitated. “Now.”
    He followed the girl down.
They’d been in the limo quite a while judging by the amount of
empty bottles, food containers, and various drug paraphernalia.
That wasn’t unusual. Downtown Houston had been packed for days with
revelers all waiting for the end of the world.
    The blonde was
flabbergasted. “Why would you want to rob someone on the night the
world ends? Isn’t there are party you could be at, or
something?”
    “ He’s not here to rob us,
dear,” the man began. “He’s here for me.”
    Dutch kept the shotgun
leveled just in the center of the two sitting across from him. If
he’d pulled the trigger then, he’d get both of them. The man
relaxed on the leather seat, crossing his legs, and smiling with
perfect white teeth. His crystal clear blue eyes cut straight
through Dutch and, with the man’s good looks and carefully cropped
blonde hair, he could see him being an actor or politician before
Worm Wood reared its ugly head.
    “ So since you know what
I’m here for, can I get you to come with me all nice and easy?”
Dutch asked. “I’d rather not shoot anyone on the last night of the
world. It doesn’t seem fitting.”
    The man laughed. “Indeed.
Not that I mind dying. In fact, I relish it. But not by your hands.
Not by a stranger. Who sent you, mercenary? You operate like a
witch and are carrying the tools of their trade. I smell the silver
about you like a plague. Tell me. Who’s sent you to corner the big
bad wolf this, the last night of the world?”
    “ It doesn’t matter who my
employer is,” Dutch began. The man smelt the silver on him?
Impossible. “You’ll get to meet him soon enough.”
    “ Surely you jest,” the man
replied. He spoke like he’d time traveled from another world,
another generation. “I can’t talk you into just telling him you
couldn’t find me? Can we not enjoy the end of the world in
peace?”
    “ I’m afraid it doesn’t
work that way, partner,” Dutch said.
    “ I can offer you more
money that your current employer. More than you could have ever
imagined.”
    “ I’m not sure what good
money is, at this point.”
    “ You do know we are about
to die, correct? I came to this city to do just that. I am
comfortable with it and, at this point, look forward to it. My
death is your employer’s ultimate goal, whoever he is.”
    “ How would you know that?”
The priest hadn’t been specific in why he wanted the man he thought
was a werewolf and frankly Dutch didn’t care.
    “ It is always the case. My
death has been wished for since well before your grandfather’s
oldest ancestor was born.”
    Too weird, Dutch thought.
The guy actually thinks he’s a werewolf. He was tempted to just
bolt and let the end of the world play out how it would. But
surviving the end was a bigger desire. It didn’t matter if crazy
people were involved or not. He was getting into that
shelter.
    Dutch turned to the woman.
“Get out.”
    “ What?”
    “ If you want to enjoy
what’s left of the night I suggest you get out.”
    “ David?” the woman asked,
turning to the man in the suit