chapter 25
It was well past midnight when the villagers retired. Abby was so tired she fell asleep without her usual blood feeding. It was just as well—Hettie barely had the strength to drag herself to bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, it was like stepping through a curtain into another layer of life itself. She was barefoot in her nightgown, the ground soft and cool like the finest bedsheets. “About time.” A gruff, familiar voice made her spin around. Thomas Stubbs, the Pinkerton agent who’d relentlessly pursued her and Diablo, stood before her, dressed in a clean, dark suit, smoking a cigar. She had Diablo aimed at his head in a flash. “Whoa there.” Stubbs held up his hands. “You don’t wanna do that. There’s a good chance you’re sleepwalking right now, and if you’ve pulled that thing out
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