Abigail felt her heart rate slow down as she fell through a dark mist. Images flashed through her mind. She saw her parents again. Heard them laughing.

Suddenly, she found herself as a small child on the floor with Sundown, who was smiling at her. Dressed in a black button-down shirt and jeans, he wore his hair shorter, and he was freshly shaved. Still, he was devastating to look at, especially when he smiled.

"Now, look, Abby, you send the bunny under the bush and then down around the rabbit hole. Like this."

She watched in awe as he tied her red princess ballet bedroom shoe. "That's not a bunny, silly, that's a lace."

His smile widened but not so much that he showed his fangs. "Yeah, but we're pretending," he whispered like it was a big secret.

"Oh." She tried to repeat it with the other shoe.

"You need to find you a woman and settle down, Jess. You'd make a great father."

She saw the pain in his eyes that her mother's words evoked. His smile died instantly as he reached to pull his hat, which was filled with her Little Ponies, closer to them. "I don't believe in settling down. That's for folks like you." He held his hat out so that Abigail could take her ponies back.

"Yeah, but you don't want to grow old alone, do you?"

As a child, she'd missed the torment that flared deep in his black eyes while he faced her and had his back to her mother. But as a woman, she saw the demons that tortured him, and it made her ache for him. He ran his hand along the brim of his hat and swallowed before he answered. "Believe me, Laura, there are a lot of worse things in this world than growing old alone."

Abigail had looked up with wide eyes. "Like what?"

He gave her the forced smile that adults often give to kids when they don't want them to feel their pain. "Cookie monsters who sneak past you when you're tying your shoes and eat your chocolate chip yummies." He feigned a reach for the cookies on the floor next to her. Squealing, she threw herself over his arm to keep him from taking them.

He curled his arm, lifting her and bringing her straight to his chest so that he could catch her in his arms and swing her up. In one graceful move, he rose to his feet, then twirled her around.

"Airplane, airplane, airplane," she started chanting while Jess turned faster.

Her mother gaped at them. "You're going to be wearing those chocolate chips soon if you don't stop, Jess."

He laughed. "It'd be worth it to hear her laugh."

And Abigail did.... She laughed and squealed in delight.

How could she have ever forgotten how much she once loved that man?

"What's going on here?"

Jess stopped moving as her father's angry voice cut through their joy. He cradled her to his chest while she begged him to keep going. Patting her on the back to soothe her, he faced her outraged father. "I was just teaching Abby how to tie her shoes."

Her father forcefully yanked her out of his arms. "That's not your job, now, is it?"

She saw the anger in Jess's eyes, but he quickly hid it. "Nah, guess it's not."

Her mother stepped forward. "Baby, c'mon. Jess just stopped by for a second on his way to work to say happy birthday to me."

Her father's gaze narrowed on her mother's neck, where a beautiful diamond butterfly glittered in the light. Abigail reached to touch it, then protested when her father's grip on her tightened to the point of causing her pain. She cried out in protest and tried to squirm out of his hold.

Her father ignored her attempts to get free. "Long enough to give you that, huh? What? You think I can't afford you gifts like that? Is that it?"

Her mother's jaw dropped in shock and outrage as she took Abigail out of her father's arms and held her close to calm her. "What in the world is wrong with you?"

Jess stepped forward to wedge himself between her parents so that he could protect her and her mother from her father's anger. "Look, Stan, I wasn't trying to offend you. It was real pretty and all, and I just thought she'd like it. That's it. No slight to you was ever intended."

Even though her father was a full head shorter than Jess, he shoved him back, forcing her mother to step away from the men. Abigail saw the panic on her mother's face. She might not have known about Sundown's brutal past or his Dark-Hunter status, but it was obvious that he dwarfed her father, and that in a fight, he'd definitely be the victor.

Her father shoved him again. "You need to quit sniffing around my wife every time I leave."

Jess curled his lip and stood his ground. His expression promised a serious ass-whipping if her father didn't stand down. "I wasn't sniffing around her. We're friends. That's all."

"Then I suggest you go be friends with someone else's wife. My family is off-limits to you."

An angry tic beat a frenetic rhythm in Jess's jaw. It was obvious he was straining to ride herd on an urge to beat her father down. He glanced across the room to her mother. "I have to get to work. I'm sorry I caused you any trouble, Laura. I hope I didn't completely ruin your birthday, and I'm real sorry about the gift."

His words only enraged her father more. "Yeah, that's right. Rub it in how much better you are than I am at providing for her. We can't all be international investors and make millions doing it, can we?"

Jess paused, and Abigail saw the grim look on his face that said he was one step away from slamming her father's head through a wall. Instead, he pulled his Stetson off the floor and gently dumped her ponies on the coffee table. He picked up her favorite purple one and crossed the room to hand it to her. "Y'all have a good night." His eyes were dark and sorrowful as he met her mother's gaze. "Happy birthday, Laura." And then he put his hat on his head and walked out.

"Stan," her mother growled the moment he was gone. "That was unbelievably rude. What is wrong with you?"

He sneered at her. "How would you feel if you came home to find a woman in here alone with me?"

"I have many times. Tracy. Remember?"

He scoffed. "She's the babysitter."

"She's a very attractive woman."

"So?"

"That's exactly my point," her mother said in a disgusted tone. "I'm sorry you lost your job, but that's no reason to start hating a man who's been a good friend to me since before I met you."

"Yeah, right. I think it's more than friendship with you two."

Her mother gaped. "Are you completely out of your mind?"

Abigail covered her ears with her hands. "Please don't fight anymore. I don't like loud voices."

Her mother kissed her cheek and gave her a soothing cuddle. "Sorry, baby. Why don't you go play in your room?" She set her down.

Abigail ran to the hallway, then paused as her father grabbed her mother's arm and jerked her closer.

"I want you to give that necklace back to him," he said between clenched teeth.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to see my wife wearing another man's gift. You hear me?"

Her mother rolled her eyes. "He's like a brother to me. Nothing more."

"Nothing more, huh? Then tell me why he carries a picture of you in his watch?"

Shock etched itself across her mother's face. "What?"

"You heard me. I saw it the last time he was over here. It's a photo of you. No man does that for his sister. Trust me."

"I don't believe you. He's never, ever said or done anything to act like he was interested in me in any way."

"And I know what I saw."

She wrested her arm out of his grip. "You're wrong about him."

"No, I'm not. It ain't natural for a man to want to come around someone else's family like this."

"You never had a problem with it before."

"I never saw that damn watch before."

Abigail frowned as she saw a shadow moving along the wall. It lifted up and crawled slowly toward her parents. Where was it coming from? There were no windows, and nothing that could cast it. It slinked down the hallway slowly. Methodically. But as a child, she was easily distracted, especially since her parents were escalating their argument. She scurried to her room to find her Scooter doll and hide.

She'd made a nest beneath her bed for just such occasions. It was where she felt safest. Her mother called it her princess hidey-hole. Abigail called it wonderful. With her blanket and dolls, she stayed there and lost track of time until she heard another familiar voice in the middle of their ongoing fight.

Jess's.

"You don't deserve her, you bastard."

"What are you doing here?" her father snarled, startling her from her play. "I told you not to come back."

"You don't tell me what to do."

Her mother's tone was much more reasonable. "Maybe you should go."

"So that's it, then?" her father shouted. "After all these years and everything I've done for you? You're just going to throw me out for this piece of random shit?"

Abigail covered her ears as the shouts grew louder and louder.

Her mother's scream rang out. "Stan! Put down the gun!" The next thing she heard was breaking furniture. Terrified, she dug deeper into her safety blanket and held her breath. She didn't know why she wasn't crying. But something told her not to even breathe audibly.

Four loud, deafening gunshots rang out.

Wide eyed, she'd been frozen in terror. Mama ... That single word hovered in her mind as tears welled in her eyes. Go check on her....

She couldn't. It felt as if someone or something held her down and kept her quiet.

Then there was the sound of lone boot heels clicking eerily down the hallway toward her room. Chills raised on her arms.

Don't move, Abby. It sounded like her mother talking to her. Whatever you do, stay silent and still. Pretend you're invisible.

Her door opened with a slow arc.

Holding her breath, she peeped from beneath her bed to watch the boots move across her floor.

"Where are you, you little brat?" Jess snarled. He searched the room for her.

He's going to find me.... Every part of her seized with that fear. I don't want to die.

"Abigail!" he shouted as he searched through her closet. "Where are you?"

The sound of sirens filled the air, which made him tear through her room as he did his best to find her. She covered her head, terrified he'd overturn her bed.

"We need to go. Now!"

Abigail frowned at a voice that sounded familiar to her. Not as a little girl, but as an adult.

Whose was it?

"I can't find the brat."

The sirens were getting louder and louder.

"I'll take care of it," the voice whispered again. "But you need to go."

"Why? It might be better if they find me here."

"I have a better idea."

He let out a sound of extreme frustration as pulsating lights flashed through the windows. "Fine," he snarled. "I'll trust you, but if you're wrong, you'll be joining the other two in the living room."

"Don't worry, I have your back."

She watched as Sundown stormed out of the room, leaving nothing but bloody footprints in his wake....

Abigail jerked awake to find herself in Sundown's house.

The memory of the night her parents had died lingered heavy in her heart as the sequence of events was clarified.

Sundown had killed her parents. He'd been lying to her when he denied it.

How do you know that?

Hello? I was there.

Still, there was a tiny part of her that doubted it. Her mind couldn't reconcile the two sides of Sundown that she'd seen. The fierce protector and the lethal killer.

You've killed, too.

But for a reason. Her parents hadn't deserved their deaths.

"You're awake."

She glanced over to the door where Sundown was standing. A wave of fury swelled through her, but she fought it down. The last thing she wanted was to warn him of her intentions.

"Yeah." Licking her dry lips, she glanced down to his right front pants pocket, which caused him to arch an inquisitive brow. Her face turned red as she realized he thought she was staring at his crotch and not the other, much smaller bump. "Not on your life, cowboy."

"Dang. Just when I got my hopes up, too."

For once, she didn't let his charm infiltrate her suspicions. She sat up on the bed. "Do you have the time?"

He pulled an old-fashioned pocket watch out and opened the cover to check it.

Before he could answer her question, she was off the bed and had it in her hand. Her breath caught as she saw the photo that had set her father off.

It was her mother.

"What are you doing with this?"

His face turned white. "It's not what you think."

She glared at him as she clutched the watch, wanting to strangle him. "What I think is that you're a liar." She held it up for him to see the picture. "This is my mother."

"It's not your mother."

"Bullshit. I know what she looked like."

Still, he shook his head in denial. "Look at it again. Your mother had short hair and never wore a dress like that one. Ever."

She turned it back toward her to study it.

He was right. The woman in the photograph had her hair piled up into an extravagant braided bun like a woman would have worn in the late 1800s. Her high-collar, white lace blouse was adorned at the neck by an antique cameo. Like her mother's, the woman's eyes glowed with warmth and kindness.

But the most startling fact was that their features were eerily identical. The same sharp cheekbones and dark hair. Eyebrows that arched at an angle above kind eyes. But her mother's eyes had been blue. The woman in the photograph had dark eyes. Even so it was like staring at her mother all over again.

"I told you your ma reminded me of someone." Jess covered her hand with his. "Now you know."

That touch sent a chill down her spine. "Who is she?"

"Matilda Aponi." There was a catch in his voice that told her the mere mention of the name pained him.

"And what was she to you?"

He took the watch from her and closed it. "Does it matter?"

Obviously the woman had mattered a lot to him. "You loved her."

"More than my life."

Those heartfelt words actually made her ache. She'd never seen so much love in a man's eyes for any woman. It was so intense and unexpected that a part of her was actually jealous of it. She'd give anything to have a man love her so much. "Are we related to her?"

He started to turn away, but Abigail wouldn't let him. She reached out and touched his arm as a creepy suspicion filled her. Please let me be wrong.

"Am I related to you?"

"Oh God no," he said, his eyes widening in horror. "I'd have never let you kiss me like you did if you were."

That was a relief. "She married someone else, then?"

He inclined his head to her. "It wasn't meant to be between us."

Abigail didn't miss the way he stroked the watch as if it were a part of Matilda, or the agonized grief in his eyes as he talked about her.

"She was too good for me anyway. I'm just glad she found someone who made her happy." He slid the watch back into his pocket, then changed the subject. "Andy has some food for you. I'll go ring him to bring it."

Abigail didn't try to stop him from leaving this time as she digested everything.

Could a man capable of that much love for someone else be the monster she thought he was?

While she had no doubt he was more than capable of killing her father, she seriously doubted he would have slaughtered her mother. Not with the feelings he'd had for Matilda. It didn't seem to fit.

Could it have been a shape-shifter? There were plenty who could have worn his skin.

But who and, most important, why? What would anyone have to gain by framing him and not turning him over to the authorities? And why kill her parents?

Her head ached from trying to decipher it.

I have to find out the truth and make whoever killed them pay. She owed her parents that much.

She turned back toward the bed to get her shoes, when a disgusted sound made her pause.

"What do you mean I can't go?" It was a voice she was unfamiliar with that sounded like someone standing not too far from her room.

"I thought we'd settled this, mite," Jess said sternly.

"Ah hell no, we didn't. You let me go up to Alaska with you, and I was a lot younger then."

"And there were other Squires there to watch your back. Not to mention, I was dumb enough not to know how much danger was there. This time I know, and you're not going."

"I hate you, you decrepit bastard."

Sundown scoffed. "I hear you. Now take that to Abigail and mind your manners, pup."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." A few seconds later, he knocked on her door.

"Come in." She couldn't wait to see Sundown's Squire.

Andy walked in with a tray that carried a bottled Coke, water, and a plate filled with chicken, roasted potatoes, and green beans. He paused to eye her suspiciously. Dressed in jeans and a red T-shirt, he appeared to be around her age and extremely cute. Except for the slight curl to his lip, as if it made him ill to be in her presence.

"You must be Andy."

"Yeah, and if you hurt Jess, so help me, I will hunt you down to the farthest corner of hell and make you wish to God you'd never breathed air. You hear me?"

Well, that was most unexpected. "You greet everyone this way?"

"No. I'm usually very nice. But you ... you have no idea how much effort it's taking for me not to kill you where you stand."

She returned his sneer with one of her own. "Bring it, punk."

"Don't tempt me." He moved to set the tray at the foot of the bed. Closer to him now, she realized he was almost as tall as Sundown. Though without the massive muscles and aura of I-can-kick-the-crap-out-of-you, it wasn't quite so apparent at first glance. Unlike Sundown, he didn't dominate the room or her senses.

Andy started for the door.

"Why are you so protective of him, anyway? I thought Squires hated their Dark-Hunters."

He paused to give her a look that asked are-you-effing-nuts? "Our Dark-Hunters are our family. There's nothing we wouldn't do for them. Even die for them if we had to."

"That's not what I've heard."

He scowled at her. "From who? Daimons? Apollites? If the DH are so bad, explain to me why some of the above have been known to work and live with Dark-Hunters themselves."

She rolled her eyes. "Now I know you're lying to me. There's no way an Apollite would ever work for a Dark-Hunter."

Crossing his arms over his chest, he gave her a droll stare. "Babe, I know two of them who married one." He jerked his chin toward the door. "Ishtar Casino, here in Vegas, has a whole staff of Apollites who work for Sin Nana ... who up until about four years ago was a Dark-Hunter, and he was doing his duties while they worked for him. Hell, half of them helped him, and when he was attacked, they and even a Daimon fought to protect him."

Abigail would argue, but she knew Apollites who'd worked there, and she knew Sin owned it. "How do I know Sin was ever a Dark-Hunter?"

"Why would I lie?"

"It could be pathological."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm not going to argue with you. Don't like you enough to bother. But like I said, you hurt one hair on his head, and you will regret it. Jess is my family, and he's been through enough damage in his life. And in spite of all the shit people have done to him, including his best friend shooting him in the back and in his head on the day of his wedding at the feet of his fiancee, there's not a more decent human being ever born." He turned and was out the door before she had a chance to say anything else.

Stunned, she stood there as that last bit hit her like a fist.

Shot in the back on his wedding day? An image of Matilda and her mother went through her mind. For a full minute, she couldn't breathe. She could see it all in her head so clearly.

It wasn't meant to be. Sundown's words echoed in her ears. No wonder he'd been so sad when he talked about her.

To be with her mother, who looked so much like Matilda, must have killed him.

It's why he killed her and your father. He couldn't take it any more.

A psychotic break would make sense.

Andy and Jess were lying.

She wanted to believe that. It would be the easiest. Not to mention, it was the option that didn't leave her with a conscience that would flog her for the rest of her life.

However long that was.

Rubbing her hand over her eyes, she sat down on the bed and looked at the food. It turned her stomach.

No, not the food. What she'd done. The one thing no one had ever told her about was how to cope with the lives she'd taken. Even before Sundown had kidnapped her, her conscience had been there, telling her that she'd taken someone's life. Her anger kept her going, but it wasn't enough to drown out her actions.

"They deserved it. Think of how many of us they've killed over the centuries. Do you think they ever have a minute's worth of compassion when it comes to us? No, they don't. Kill the Apollite. We're animals to be butchered to them. Wasn't it bad enough Apollo cursed us? Then his damned sister had to go and create a race to hunt and kill us as brutally as they can. They stab us in the hearts, Abby. And stand over our bodies while we die. Where is fair in all of that? We live twenty-seven years and hit full puberty at a time when most humans are still in grade school, learning their ABC's. Our lives are horrifically short, and you were there when my mother withered into dust. At twenty-seven. Remember that? Did you ever even hear her speak a bad word about anyone? No. She was kindness incarnate. We took you in and you've seen it firsthand. We don't hurt anyone. We are the victims." Kurt's indignation had fueled her vengeance quest, along with Perry and Jonah.

Even Hannah.

Kill the Dark-Hunters, Abby. That had been chanted to her since the moment Kurt's mother died. Even her adoptive father, on his deathbed, had begged her for retribution.

"You're our only hope, Abs. Don't let us down. Remember what they did to us. What that animal did to your parents. Never forget it."

But her memories ... Something in all of this didn't feel right. There were too many missing pieces.

If only she knew the truth.

You do know the truth. You were there.

Unable to sort through it, she looked up at the ceiling, wishing the real answer would fall down and smack her hard enough to make her listen.

* * *

"Your coyotes just came slinking back in the door with tucked tails. I would have killed them, but figured you'd want the honor. They claim there's a wolf helping your enemies now. But they don't know who he is, or if he's one of ours or from another pantheon. My guess is he's not one of ours."

Coyote narrowed his gaze on the huge bear of a man who dared to enter his den with such unwelcome news. And there was only one who would be so bold. Snake was a full head taller, which given the fact that Coyote was six feet two was impressive. While his own hair was short and black, Snake's was shaved bald and an intricate snake tattoo started at where his hairline would be on top of his head. It coiled down his neck and both of his beefy arms into a symbolic pattern that only one of their people could read. To most, Snake would appear like a criminal. But Coyote knew him for what he really was.

An ancient warrior who, like him, had lain dormant for far too long. Who would have thought when they agreed to their duties centuries ago that they, who had once made the very earth tremble in fear of their strength and skill, would be relegated to a role that was only one step above nursemaid?

"Did you hear me, Coyote?"

He gave a subtle nod. "They've grown fat and lazy. Unable to hunt. I weep for what has become of our people." Most of all, he wept for what had become of them.

"With Choo Co La Tah weakened, we'll have better luck after this."

He wished he were so optimistic. Choo Co La Tah had turned back his scorpions faster than he'd expected. But it'd drained the old man. With luck, his next plague would weaken him enough that they could kill him, too.

With Choo Co La Tah out of the way, there would be no stopping them.

He could almost smile at the unexpected gift the human had given them. He'd hoped she would kill Renegade and Brady. Taking out his other enemy was a bonus.

It'd been centuries since he stood this close to his goal. So close, he feel the breath of it on his face.

But nothing was certain. Nothing should ever be taken for granted.

And never, ever underestimate Choo Co La Tah. Even though he and Snake outnumbered the old man, they still had the problem that while Coyote was the Guardian for the East, he'd only obtained it by trickery.

It wasn't his right.

The legitimate Guardian still lived, even though it was as a Dark-Hunter and so long as he did, there was always the possibility that he'd step forward to claim his station and kill Coyote where he stood.

I would gladly step down. But the true Guardian had made it clear that he wouldn't allow it. Not at the price Coyote demanded.

Snake looked up at the sky above them. "The cycle is drawing close."

At last. He didn't say it. He didn't have to. They'd both been waiting for the Time Untime for far too long.

If the Butterfly and the Buffalo were to unite during the Time Untime, he and Snake would be destroyed. And all the Guardians replaced by those they chose.

But if he could stop it, he could rise on the eve of the Reset, and then he would have the power to select the new Guardians himself. With them under his control, they could unite their powers and return the world to their people. The Pale One would be defeated for once and for all.

The reign of the Coyote would be absolute. Uncontested.

Their enemies would be driven back into the sea.

And the elders and earth would weep for the wrong it had done to him. Blood would rain from the skies, and the Coyote would eat the sun and cover this earth with his vengeance.

He could already savor the taste. Soon this world would be his, and with his raised army, he would subjugate everyone.

The one thing he wanted most would then be his. No one would ever remove it again from his possession.

All he had to do was destroy one more Guardian.

So simple ...

So damned hard.

But he wouldn't fail this time. This time, he would succeed and the world of man would finally understand what true misery meant.

The Reign of Coyote was about to begin, and the world would never be the same.