Still, things happened all the time that didn't make sense. And the Powers ...
They were downright unpredictable.
"Have faith, Abigail. Sometimes the world surprises you."
Abigail swallowed at his words, wishing she could put her faith in them. "Yeah, but it's never done so in a pleasant way. At least not for me."
And deep in her heart, she knew the truth. This wouldn't end until she'd paid for her actions.
She was going to die, and not even the infamous Jess Brady could stop it.
Abigail woke up to the sensation of someone cradling her against an impressively hard chest, as if she were unspeakably cherished. She honestly couldn't remember the last time a man had held her like this.
If ever.
He was wrapped completely around her. Warm. Seductive. Inviting. Protective. It was the kind of sweet, loving embrace people dreamed of finding themselves in, but seldom did. For a full minute, she lay there in complete satiation.
Until she remembered who he was.
Sundown Brady.
Outlaw. Dark-Hunter. Killer.
Enemy.
She jerked involuntarily, which immediately caused him to awaken and push himself up on his arms to look around, as if expecting more coyotes to leap out of the walls and devour them.
When he didn't see an immediate threat, he scowled down at her. "Everything okay?"
Yes ... He was so incredibly sexy in that pose. His hips were pressed intimately against hers, and his arms bulged with his raw strength. It made her ache for the very thing she would die before she gave him.
"No, you're on top of me." She pushed at his chest.
He rolled off her and onto his back with a taunting grin as he wiggled his hips to settle into his new position. "Now, that's not normally the way a woman reacts when I'm on top of her. I usually get a little more enthusiasm and welcome than that."
She gave him a withering stare to mask how incredibly yummy she thought he was right then. No need in feeding that ego. "Well, that's what happens when you pay women for sex."
To her surprise, he laughed good-naturedly. Damn, he was devastating when he did that, and he made it hard to remember she was supposed to hate his guts.
Stretching like a languid cat, he yawned. "Sorry about crushing you all morning. I think we fell asleep in the middle of a conversation."
They had. One she could barely recall now. What she did recall was how comforting he'd been while she'd cried, and that was the last thing she needed to think about. "Yeah, but I'm not sure which of us fell asleep first."
"I'm pretty sure it was you."
She had a suspicion he was right, and this was getting a little too familiar for her tastes. She wanted to keep a gap between them. A nice safe chasm that protected her from caring about anyone, especially him. So she changed the subject. "Your gun's still on the floor."
He scratched at the manly shadow on his cheek in a way that was boyish and somehow endearing. He was so nonchalant with her and she should be aggravated by that, not charmed. "Glad I didn't need it, since it's all the way over there."
No kidding. That could have been a bloody disaster. "So what time do you think it is?"
"Feels like it's still daylight. Not sure of the exact time, though."
"What do you mean it feels like daylight?"
He yawned before he answered. "Wicked power we have. We can sense when the sun's up. Which it still is."
No doubt they'd been given that to help keep them alive, since Apollo would kill any Dark-Hunter or Apollite he found in his domain. The Greek god was a real bastard that way.