gettin’ raped and murdered. Best tell me whatcha know or I’m liable to assume the worst.”
Loki snorted. Raped. The way that girl fucked, she probably spread her legs for anything with half a pulse. It would take an especially hideous monster to even have the opportunity to rape her.
“Assume whatever the fuck you want, ain’t gonna get you nowhere,” Loki yelled. “You want to find out who was stickin’ it in yer daughter I’m sure there’s friends of hers could tell ya better than we can!”
The blonde-haired goon cocked his sidearm and Bandage-Pinky did the same. He and Gimpy Broken-Nose had their sights set on Tyr, eager for justice.
“You, my friend,” said Locke, pointing a finger at Tyr, “had best not speak of my daughter again or you’ll die speakin’ of her.”
Tyr glared at Loki. It was a tight spot and a false move could have them leaving Tombstone already or, worse yet, expose their species to the masses. If that happened, it meant massacring every man, woman, and child in this crowd. That kind of thing ended up in newspapers and history books in addition to being a potential hassle.
“Mr. Locke,” said Michael. “None of us had no problem with Katie. I barely spoken to her and these two boys, they didn’t come to town but a week ago and prob’ly ain’t so much as laid eyes on her. Ain’t no bad blood between any of us. We ain’t got no motive.”
“Ain’t nobody got no motive to take advantage of a beautiful little girl,” said Locke. “I ain’t talkin’ of motive. I’m talkin’ ‘bout a devilish maniac bastard come to town to prey on all things wholesome and I’m thinkin’ it’s one o’ them two behind ya.”
“It washn’t da one in black, bosh,” said Gimpy Broken-Nose. “He wash da one out dere broke ma noshe.”
All eyes went to Loki, the man in white.
“Look, Mr. Locke,” Loki tried. “I seen yer daughter. Like ya said she was a beautiful young lady, and I agree with ya a hundred and ten percent. Any man that’d kill a pretty little thing like that ain’t much a man at all, ya ask me. If I’da laid her, I’da sure as shit done it more’n once.”
Locke took a moment to try to restrain himself, but he lost it when Loki capped the statement off with a casual, innocent smile.
“Kill him,” Locke barked.
The streets of Tombstone became the fires of Hell.
Loki’s guns were the first drawn, and he shot down two of the ruffians instantly. Tyr, an expert marksman, thought it better to throw the fight quickly than to showboat for the crowd—so the only bullet he fired struck Bandage-Pinky in the ear. Bandage-Pinky was the next to shoot, but Tyr’s bullet struck him just before he pulled the trigger and his aim was deterred, hitting Tyr in the chest instead of the head. Tyr dropped his gun and let himself go down wounded. Before he hit the ground, Gimpy Broken-Nose put a second chunk of lead into his stomach.
From the deck, Tommy Warden fired two shots. The first caught one of Locke’s goons in the head and the second ripped open Gimpy Broken-Nose’s shoulder. Gimpy pivoted and returned the attack, firing a shot that caught Tommy in the nose and knocked most of his brain out of his head.
The crowd was scattering. Al just watched.
The blonde-haired ruffian fired only once. His shot struck Michael in the stomach. Michael went down on his knees, firing two shots back, one of which struck Blonde-Hair in the thigh while the other hit a female gawker in the ass.
Now it was Gimpy, Bandage, and Blondie firing at just Loki, who was stubborn at the idea of losing a public battle to humans who didn’t stand a chance against him. He emptied both pistols on Blondie, hitting him ten times, starting with crotch for personal amusement and working his way up every vital organ he could think of. Loki and Blonde-Hair hit the ground at the same moment and by the time Loki was lying in the mud, there were five bullet-holes in his torso.
Al’s mouth hung open and
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