She woke to gunshots. Loud gunshots. Her hand was on a gun belt before she'd really even sat up in the quilt. Outside. It was outside. She sighed relief. Beside her, Eunice slept on peacefully. Dead to the violent west outside. Jude couldn't contain a smile as she settled back in the mattress. She'd finally managed to wear her young lover out the night before. And herself.

What have I done now? She brushed a shank of blonde away from Eunice's smooth forehead. Said I would never do this again...and I knew I should have stopped with this one.

Because Eunice wasn't at all like Katherine. Eunice wasn't some stranger - arms easy to leave. Eunice was...Eunice. The little sister she'd worked so hard to protect, had tried so hard to save from the devil's grip. She wracked her brain, listening to the innocent's gentle snores, trying to recall any moment that could have revealed Eunice's true feelings toward her at Briarcliff. But nothing came to mind. Not a thing. If anything, she'd always believed Eunice had feared her, or at least been intimidated. She could never have imagined...

But then, Jude had had her own impossible attraction to deal with at Briarcliff. A most misguided and sad one. She shook the thought from her head, fingers unconsciously stroking the pouch around her neck. Let it go, Judy.

But she couldn't let it go. The anger. The hurt. Despite all her trying, the feelings had followed her after death, had crafted the restless soul she was now.

Do I even have a soul now? Eunice stirred. A tiny moan. Her hands shifted in the sheets until she encountered Jude's hip. A smile curled her Cherubic lips. Jude's eyes watered. Yeah...I still have a soul. Goddamnit.

She stretched, slipping quietly from the bed. There were clean breeches and a black flannel in her saddle bags. She dressed just as quietly, tucking hair into hat. Two gun belts buckled. Shoulder holsters clipped. Leather tightened snug on her thigh, the Colt .45 there feeling like a friend. She was tying on a crisp black bandana when a sleepy voice shook her.

"Where are you going?"

"I got some business ta tend to."

"What kind of business?"

"The business kind." She looked at the drowsy angel propping elbows against the bedrail. "I'll be back soon. Go back ta sleep."

"I'll come with you."

"No, ya won't." She started for the door.

Eunice grabbed a gun belt. "You're going to talk to the madam, aren't you."

"Among othah things." Jude took the fey hand and pressed it to her lips through the bandana. "I want you ta stay here. Lock the door. And be safe."

Eunice was scrambling out of bed. "No. I'm coming with you. I know the madam. She can be a real bitch."

"She doesn't know what a real bitch is. Eunice. Go back ta bed."

"No!" The girl bounced about, hurrying into stockings and pantaloons. "You're not going to make me a prisoner in this room while you go out on adventures. I'm coming with you."

"Don't be stubborn."

"You're being stubborn!" Eunice fired back. She'd put on her chemise backwards and was awkwardly readjusting it. "I know all the people here. I can help you. I'm scared you'll just...shoot everybody."

"Would that be such a loss?" Jude watched her step into her skirt. "Look. Eunice. Yar better off up here. Out of sight and out of mind. I need ya ta trust me."

"So you can take off into the sunset without a glance back?" Eunice's cheeks were pink as she worked her way into the corset. "You told me last night I wasn't a whore. Why would you treat me like one now?"

The ire was quick, accusation bristling. Jude grabbed the youngling roughly. "How dare you." She growled. Eunice gasped. "Yar staying here because I have no intention of losing you today or evah, Eunice. And I won't risk the madam sendin' ya off to some othah bed. Hear me?" Eunice's crumbling face melted her. "Fuck. Eunice. Stop." She embraced the girl. "I didn't mean ta snap at ya."

"I just don't want to lose you!" Eunice wept. She clung to two gun belts. "Not when I just got you back. Jude, please!"

"Shit." Her mind worked. It was a quick mind. Pragmatic and calculating. She tugged her bandana down and tilted Eunice's chin up, a searing kiss. And with Eunice momentarily quieted, she was able to remove the long rustling skirt. Her fingers were demanding inside the linen lingerie, stroking softly, then more firmly, Eunice's already dripping core.

"Ah!" Eunice broke away, arching her neck to Jude's hungry mouth. "Oh, Jude..." Her knees trembled precariously and Jude swiftly set her on the bedside table, slipped between spreading legs. "God!"

"Feel good?"

"Yes!" She clawed at Jude's back through the black flannel. "So good!"

"Mm-hm. Gonna come far me?" Eunice groaned in reply, words failing when Jude slipped two fingers inside her. "Ya bettah. Come far me, angel." She bit the soft jaw. Sucked on the thin skin of Eunice's neck.

"Jude!" Panting. Gasping.

"How hard do I have ta fuck ya, Eunice? Huh?" She increased her elbow's pace. "This hard?"

When Eunice squealed pleasure, Jude arced her free hand across the girl's mouth. "Or harder." Eunice quivered, quaked when Jude's caress became a barrage. Her breathless moans were hot against Jude's ear and she clung to the two belts at Jude's waist, bringing the squeak of leather and the occasional jingle of bullet against steel. Jude worked her a little faster, introducing a third finger to the mix and wrenching her head back by her hair. It did the trick. Eunice's legs clenched in time with her cunt, bringing Jude flush with her now sweaty body.

She whimpered softly as she came down from the pleasure plateau and Jude peppered her neck with sweet soothing kisses. "Good girl," she praised. "Such a pretty lovah."

"Mmmmm." She was boneless when Jude pulled from the table. Giggled when her knees weakened.

"Whoa!" Jude lifted her bridal style. "Tired?" She deposited they fey form on their bed.

"Oh, Jude..." Eunice sighed as she stretched.

"Uh-huh." Jude smirked. "Go back ta sleep."

"Hmmmm." Eunice's eyes drifted closed and the gunslinger headed for the door. "Jude?" She turned at the tiny voice. "Will you solve all of our arguments that way?"

"Yep."

"Perfect." The girl slept.

Jude re-tied her bandana on the way down the saloon's stairs. She stepped gingerly through the typical pile of lazy whores, who looked up at her with flirtatious, knowing grins. Lulu was at the end of the bar, leaned into a conversation with the ruddy bartender. The man stroked his handlebar mustache, nodding at Jude past the madam who turned, beaming. "Well, stranger! Good morning! I hope." Jude tipped her hat to the bustling maven. "Cookie's whipped up a fine breakfast. Fresh eggs today from Mr. Sodder's chickens. Can I get a plate?"

"Latah." Jude leaned against the bar. "I got...some business mattahs ta discuss with ya, Madam."

"Hmph. I bet." The brunette giggled. "Unfortunately, I don't handle much of the business in this establishment beyond its...hospitalities. The proprietor is Mr. Lee."

"Then I suppose I need ta see Mr. Lee."

"He's an awfully busy man."

"So am I."

A measured stare. "I can try to arrange a meeting for you."

"Mighty appreciated." Jude accepted the whiskey set before her, un-requested. "Assure him I'll make it worth his while."

"I'm sure you will, stranger." Lulu left the bar, rustling toward a door beneath the stairs - presumably, an office. She knocked at the door before disappearing inside.

Jude used the dirty mirror behind the bar to take in the saloon's morning patrons. Most were eating. All men in various states of dust and dress. A few dirty prospectors. The polished ones - dapper in suits and watch chains - most likely investors in the fruits of the prospectors' labors. She sipped the offered whiskey. When the office door re-opened, she took in the proprietor's visage in the mirror.

Her chest seized. A furious sweat opened on her brown beneath her hat brim. Behind the bandana again, her jaw clenched. For a moment, her vision obscured - a red veil of blood falling. A claxon sounded in her head. She knew that man. Her fingers slipped easily, practiced, into the pouch around her neck. She could tell by feel - as if the etching there was a blind man's Braille - the single bullet required. Beneath the bar, she slipped it into the Smith & Wesson cold steel at her right. Her favored gun. Her favored hand. Her quickest, surest draw. She spun the revolver, knowing the sound of the single shot falling into place.

She knew that man.

He stretched a lazy stretch beside the madam. Jude felt his eyes on her at the bar, knew he would be curious about the bounty hunter requesting his time. His face was as sinister as ever, darkened by the desert sun. He was bearded now and burly. Comfortable. A fat rat big on misery. He adjusted his own gun belt - a single piece, she noted. Her eyes sized him up quickly, measuring plans like the most masterful tailor.

Her pulse roared in her ears when he stepped back into his office, nodding to the madam. Her blood turned to fire in her veins. She controlled the hatred, the seething vengeance that threatened to cloud her judgment. A deep, steadying breath when Lulu approached.

"Well, sir. You got our Mr. Lee's curiosities up right proper, it seems." She gestured to the office. "He'll see you right away."

Jude flipped a coin into the air, watched the bartender catch it with a grin. "I thank ya, Madam." Her voice was hard with intent. Spurs rang as she walked the paces to the door marked 'Private'. One pace. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.

An unlucky number. But not for her. She opened the door without knocking. A waft of retribution seduced her nostrils as she closed the door behind her, subtly locking it. The office was dark - the sole window covered by a set of brown, calico curtains. They lilted in the lazy morning breeze that cooled her raw fury. Her boots muffled on the fine Persian rug that spread from wall to wall.

"Well, well, well." Leigh Emerson sat behind his desk, feet propped languorously on the dirty blotter there. "If it ain't the mysterious gunslinger." He gestured to a chair across from his desk. "I'll admit I'm intrigued." Jude sat, crossing one leg over the other and managing to control the shake of anger. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this unscheduled business meeting my dear Lulu speaks of?" From a drawer in his desk, he extracted a bottle. "And um...as I'm a true gentleman (her nostrils flared), I'll offer you a draw of a fine bourbon." He extended the bottleneck. Smoothly, Jude accepted it, glove squeaking against the glass. "Better than the rotgut behind the bar. But...I imagine you know something of a good bourbon. Lulu tells me you have quite the coin to jangle." A barely there nod from Jude. "Awfully quiet, fellah. Gonna be hard to get any business done if you ain't one to speak."

"I want the little whore. Eunice."

"Oh, I see." Surprise shifted his bushy dark brows.

"And a pony far her." The cork plopped satisfyingly when she opened the bourbon. Took a swig. It was as good as he claimed.

"Hmmm." Mr. Lee - Leigh, as Jude knew him - toyed with a letter opener on his desk. "I'm sure you'll comprehend I stand to make more money offa that girl by keepin' her. She's gettin' better at what she does." Jude's hand shifted on her gun. Just barely stroking the cold steel. "As you musta noticed for yourself." He considered. "But I'd be willin' to...negotiate. If the price is right." He chuckled. "Though the pony might be worth more than the pussy."

Jude swallowed bile. "I don't intend ta pay far either."

He blinked, preparing to laugh. "Pardon, stranger? I don't think I heard ya right."

"Are ya deaf and stupid?" Jude asked calmly.

His legs whipped to the floor and he stood quickly. "I hope you're making a joke and not a mistake right now, motherfucker." Emerson's voice was a threatening growl. "Cuz I've wasted my fair share of ignorant gunslingers who thought they had some kinda power."

"Thought?" Jude asked. She set the bourbon back on his desk. "Well, there's the difference between them and me. They thought they had some kinda power. Whilst I know I do."

A sick smirk revealed his rotten teeth. "And just what kinda power do you have there? Huh? The power to collect guns?"

"I have the power to reap souls."

Fat hands on his desk, he leaned toward her. The grandfather clock ticked loudly behind them as he studied her. "What a peculiar piece of shit you are," he murmured. "Do I know you, you crazy son of a bitch?" His head tilted. Black eyes squinted. "Something about ya..."

"I know you, Leigh Emerson." Her gravelly voice allowed.

"You're playin' some kinda game, you dumb bastard. And I don't like games."

"It's no game."

Emerson was frustrated. Less able to hide those emotions than Jude was. "So what the fuck you doin' here? Huh?" He snapped, arms wide. "Speak your goddamn mind!"

"I'm here to send yar soul to its proper place."

"And what place is that?"

"Hell."

"So you get to judge me vile enough for Hell? You're full of shit, stranger. Who gives you the authority -"

"Seven nuns."

He paled at the reference. "Who the fuck -" His hand was quick on his gun but hers was quicker.

She was quicker period, fueled by justice. She was on his desk in a heartbeat, boot shoving him into his chair. His gun fired into the ceiling and she grabbed that wrist, twisting it as she jumped down to straddle his knee. He cried out in pain when she wrenched the pistol free, hurled it into the grandfather clock. Glass shattered splendidly.

There was a lot to be said for the element of surprise.

"Who the fuck am I?" She hissed. A ruckus started outside, Lulu banging on the door, calling out to her boss. He couldn't answer. The thick barrel of a Colt .45 was shoved into his throat, causing him to gag. He'd raised his hands above his head, recognizing he was in the vulnerable position now. Jude released his shirt from her fist long enough to rip her bandana from her face.

"Huuuuugggh!" The recognition - the sudden fear in his eyes - was sumptuous. She salivated, felt a smile curlin her lips.

"Miss me, Santa?" She wrapped her gloved hand around his throat - could feel the muscles there spasming around her piece. "I'm afraid I've been...a very bad girl this year." He vomited, choking on the chunky puke. "Ugh!" Jude exclaimed. "Ya stink, Leigh."

"I'm comin' round to the window, boss man!" Lulu shouted outside. "There better not be any trouble in there!"

"Damn," she growled. "Wish we had more time ta catch up." His thick hands pawed at her shoulders now, but she was unshakable. "But...I gotta itchy triggah fingah, anyway." His eyes widened impossibly further and he gurgled desperately when she plunged the gun deeper. "Have fun in Hell, ya worthless sack of waste."

The .45 has a deafening report, especially in close proximity. It made Jude's ears ring, but she knew it would pass. What might not pass was the violent, vibrant explosion of brains, blood, and vomit. It splattered her face, her hand, the walls, the lazily lilting calico curtains.

The gun smoked. It was hot in her hand and coated in blood and God knew what else. And yes, God knew. She slid off of the corpse slowly, taking in the unrecognizable fragment of face leftover. Leigh Emerson was no more. Something squished beneath her boot. She looked down. An eyeball, staring up at her. Expressionless, she put all of her weight on the organ, ground it into the rough pine plank.

"Mr. Lee! Mr. Lee?" The fat madam was scrambling to climb into the open window.

Jude rolled her eyes, calmly readjusting her bandana. She offered arms to the Madam, helping her into the office. Honestly it was hilarious to watch her satin wrapped rump roll over the sill and Jude contained a chuckle.

"What's happened?" The old whore pushed up from all fours, dusting her attire and looking around frantically. "What's going on in here? I heard gun fire and - Oh!" She screamed, finally seeing Emerson's steaming corpse behind its desk - hands still clawed around ghostly shoulders. "Oh God above!" She staggered, and Jude steadied her from behind. "Ahhh!" She screamed again, whipping away from Jude. "You! You - you killed him! You're a murderer! Help! Heeeeelp! A murder-" Her plaintive cry was cut off by a gloved hand shoving her into the dessimated grandfather clock.

"Shut yar fat goddamn mouth." Jude pressed the now empty Colt against Lulu's temple. The madam didn't have to know the gun was empty, and the ploy worked. She gripped the edges of the clock behind her, trembling uncontrollably and whimpering. It was a vast improvement on the screaming. "Bettah." Jude sighed, removing her bandana to wipe blood and bone and...other stuff from her face. Seeing her face at last, Lulu's whimper caught in her throat.

"Oh, Christ!" She whispered. "You're a -"

"Yes, a murderah. You've made that clear." Jude shoved the bandana into her back pocket.

"I was...I was gonna say woman." Lulu whispered.

"Oh." Jude shrugged. "That, too. But that's our secret, right?" She cocked the empty gun. Tears squeezed from Lulu's screwed shut eyelids as she nodded. "Good. We have an understanding. Let's have another understanding, huh? Or maybe a few understandings. Cuz I'll be honest: I don't wanna kill a lady. And ya are a lady, aren't ya, Lulu?" Another tight nod. "Perfect." She lowered the hammer on the gun, spinning it into its holster.

Lulu remained frozen against the clock, watched Jude round Emerson's desk. With a disgusted scowl, she dumped his corpse unceremoniously from its chair. It clunked on the hollow floor, bent ass up, and Jude propped her boots on it when she sat. On the desk was an ornate wooden box. Inside, she found a crop of tightly rolled cigars. "Mmm." Biting the end off one, she lit it with the brass table lighter nearby. "Nice," she breathed on a puff of smoke. Opened the bourbon next. "Sit down. Yar makin' me nervous." She pointed to the leather chair she'd occupied earlier. Lulu practically scrambled into it. Jude gave the whore a moment to settle, mouth still working fear. "Alright?" She asked. At the whore's nod, Jude smiled. "Good. First of all, please allow me to extend my deepest condolences on the loss of yar beloved Mr. Lee. I'm afraid we had...an irreconcilable disagreement." She flicked cigar ash onto the body beneath her feet. "Mainly, he reckoned he was worth a shit, and I reckoned he wasn't. So." A smirk. "I settled our disagreement. Permanently." A tiny meep from the madam. "Here's what's gonna happen. I'm takin' Eunice. Not because she belongs ta me, or because I bought her freedom, but because she deserves her freedom. As do the other poor beleaguered girls out there flippin' their bodies far two bits a night. But that's none of my business." Jude puffed the cigar. "That's now yar business. I highly recommend ya work out some sort of contract situation with them that will benefit both parties from here on out. Because I think ya might have just won yarself a promotion, Lulu."

"A - a promotion?"

"Evah wanted ta own a saloon?"

"You mean this place?"

"Is there anothah hotbed of sinful iniquities in town that I don't know about?"

"Well...no." Lulu shook her head.

"Then, yes. This place."

"I wish it was that easy, stranger."

Jude blew a smoke ring. "Why isn't it?"

Lulu shivered. "Stranger. You don't know what kinda trouble you done bought yerself. You think Mr. Lee was the only shareholder in this venture?" She shook her head. "There's a passle of six of the most sordid sons of bitches you could imagine just waitin' for their chance ta take over this joint. The Johnson boys. All a buncha wretched no good wretches who pretty much run this whole town. And I imagine they'll be comin' for you pretty quick once they find out you done taken out their leader."

"Good." Jude grinned. "I hope they all come at once. I'd hate ta waste precious time huntin' 'em down."

"They're fierce gunfighters!"

"Fun." Jude shrugged. "Are ya refusin' my generous offah?"

"Stranger. If you can take out the Johnson boys, I'll promise ya Eunice and however many of them ugly, stinkin' ponies you can fit in yer pocket once I'm the new proprietor of this shit hole."

"This shit hole doesn't need a new proprietor." Jude kicked Emerson's body over on the elaborate carpet with a thud. "It needs a new rug." She stubbed out the last of the cigar, rising. "I'm glad ta see we have a deal."

"Stranger?" She turned at the door, re-covering her face as the madam spoke. "You oughta know. One of them Johnson boys I was tellin' you about? He's the sheriff."

"Interesting." Jude tisked. "Ya can send up that breakfast now. Far me and Eunice. Along with my laundry. I need ta get out of these bloody things."

"Will do, stranger." The madam rose stiffly, peering over the desk at the corpse she would have to clean up.

"And Lulu. When the Johnson boys come, ya can send far me."

Eunice was awake when Jude returned. Very awake. "What happened?" She demanded. "I heard gunshots!" She wrapped Jude in a relieved embrace. "I was so scared something foul had befallen you! I was about to come down there despite what you said! Jude, don't scare me so! Don't leave me again! I can't take it!" She pulled back suddenly, gripping Jude's shirt and pulling at her bandana. "Who did you kill? Whose blood is this? Please tell me you didn't kill Lulu. I know she's a bitch, but she's in just as bad a situation as we are! She's trying! And -" she sniffed, nose wrinkling adorably. "What the hell do you reek of? God, you stink! You smell like somebody puked in a rotten goat carcass!"

"Eunice."

"What?"

"Why didn't ya tell me Leigh Emerson was the owner of this saloon?"

"Leigh...Leigh Emerson." Eunice blinked, a hand slowly covering her mouth. "Mr. Lee... Oh, Jude! I didn't know! You have to believe me! I never even met the owner! He did all of his business with us girls through the madam. I only ever saw him coming or going and I didn't really get a look at him." She shook her head, stunned. "Leigh Emerson." Her eyes were wet when she looked back at Jude's understanding face. "You...you killed Leigh Emerson, didn't you?"

Jude nodded, removing gun belts and bloodied garments. "I sent his soul to Hell. Where it belongs."

Eunice sat on their bed, numb. "Three bullets," she whispered, nodding. "Does this mean there are only two now?"

"Yep." Jude stretched, flannel hanging loose on her shoulders. "Eunice. Breakfast is being sent up. I'm starvin'. And I'd like a bath befar we eat."

"You need one." She still seemed troubled, trying to smile past a worry.

"Take one with me?"

Eunice's face brightened. "We can bathe together?"

"You can do whatever you want now, angel." Jude was stripping in the bathing partition. "Yar a free woman."

The girl flew through the swinging door, nearly knocking Jude over with the sudden embrace. "I'm free?"

"As a bird."

Her lip trembled when she looked up from Jude's cleavage. "You mean...you bought me."

"No." Jude stroked the delicate cheek. "Yar not a thing ta be bartered, Eunice. Nevah again."

"I love you, Jude."

"Don't be misguided." Jude whispered. "I was a dirty sinnah in life, Eunice. And I'm an even dirtier sinnah now. I don't deserve you."

"Don't say that."

But the bounty hunter couldn't hide what was in her heart. The doubt. The fear that this existence of retribution had forever marred what might be left of her soul. How to express that to a thing as beautiful, as pure, as the creature in her arms now? "Well...I'm at least dirty."

Eunice took a deep breath. She could feel all of the unsaid like a great weight of water - or a river rushing so strong the current couldn't be forded. She wondered if she wouldn't drown in Jude's mystery. But her love was so deep, she wouldn't mind the sinking. She opted (for now) to float. "I'll get us some hot water."

"What do you want to do?" Eunice asked. "After you know...your bullets are used up. Ow!"

Jude chuckled, tightening her grip on Eunice's slippery foot. "Hold still! I'm tryin' ta clip this nail and I'm gonna keep knicking you until you settle yar ass down."

"My feet are ticklish!"

"Everything on you is ticklish." Jude managed to clip the nail on Eunice's big toe.

"You avoided my question."

"No, I didn't."

"Well, you didn't answer it."

Jude shifted in the bath, taking up Eunice's other foot. They faced each other in the big brass tub, sharing much needed pedicures. "I don't know." She stared at Eunice's little toes. "I don't know what happens aftah I use the last bullet."

"Will you tell me the names?" Eunice nudged the pouch on Jude's chest with a groomed toe.

"No." Jude faced her. "I don't want you involved in this...whatevah it is."

"Involved." Eunice repeated. She was twisting her wet washed hair into a braid. "I think I'm already involved."

"No, yar not."

"I"m involved with you." The smaller blonde whispered.

"That's different." Clip.

"Jude."

Clip. "What?"

"What will you do with me?"

Sigh. Jude discarded the nail clipper on the soap rack. "What do you want, Eunice?"

"I want to be with you."

It was such an earnest answer. "What did you want before me? What was yar fantasy befar I showed up?"

Eunice looked down, toying with the end of her braid. Jude rubbed her foot leisurely, waiting. "It's pretty stupid. Ow!"

"Don't say that." Jude let up the tickling, but didn't release the foot. "Nothin' about ya is stupid. Tell me."

"I wanted to have a farm."

"How is that stupid?" Jude asked. "Farms are an integral part of life. We could use more of 'em. Cows and chickens and-"

"Rabbits!" Eunice brightened. "I just want rabbits."

Jude held back a smile. "Just rabbits."

"The ones with floppy ears."

"I don't suppose ya intend ta raise these rabbits far food."

"Nooo!" Eunice cried. "I'm just going to pet them and squeeze them."

"Rabbits are delicious." Jude nipped a toe.

"Stop!" Eunice splashed her. "You can't eat my bunnies. Or my toes!"

"Your toes are delicious, too."

"Gross!" But Eunice was giggling, gasping when Jude licked the side of her foot. "You licked my foot!"

"I'm gonna lick somethin' else."

"What's that?" But Eunice was already breathing heavy, anticipation pinking her up. "Ah!"

Swiftly, Jude grabbed her at the knees, pushing her up the back of the tub until she perched on the wide rim. "Somethin' more delicious than bunnies." She kissed the crease of Eunice's dripping thigh.

"Oh, Jude..." Pale fingers gripped wet curls and for the moment, rabbits and farms and futures were forgotten.

She couldn't tell Eunice - for some reason - that beyond guns and revenge and Godless missions in Purgatory, the thought of green pastures and rabbits was the most appealing thing she'd heard in her entire life. That past the vision of Leigh Emerson's destroyed head was a vision of Eunice: barefoot in a white dress, smiling on a fresh pine porch, holding a flop-eared rabbit.

How could peace seem so close - as close as the angel shuddering in her arms - and yet so far away? Why couldn't she let go of the revenge and embrace the happiness that Eunice offered?

Breast to breast, they let the drink swallow them in their kiss. Sank into the water until it baptized them. But Jude felt keenly that she was sinking far deeper into something more, into something blissful, into Eunice.

The peace cried out to her. She longed for it. Eunice promised it with the love she gave so freely. But as surely as she could feel tranquility flirting with her fingertips, Jude knew the overpowering truth that daunted her: that she could have the serenity, yes...

But it meant there would be Hell to pay.