Talon woke up to find his arm on fire.

Hissing, he jerked his hand away from the sunlight that was streaming in through the window, across an extremely pink bed. He pushed himself back against the white wicker headboard to avoid any more of his body from coming into contact with the deadly rays.

He blew cool air across his hand, but still it burned and ached.

Where the hell was he?

For the first time in centuries, he felt a wave of uncertainty run through him.

Talon was never out of his element. Never out of control. His entire life was one of extreme balance and moderation.

Never in his Dark-Hunter existence had he found himself unsure or confounded.

But right now, he had no idea where he was, the time of day, or who the women were he heard on the other side of the pink drapes.

Squinting against the bright sunlight that painfully pierced his eyes, he looked around the odd room and realized he was trapped between two open windows. His heart hammered. There was no safe way off the bed. The only direction he could go was to his left and into the corner that was occupied by a frothy pink nightstand.

Damn.

Through the pounding pain in his head, the night before came flooding back to him with stunning clarity. The attack.

The woman...

The great big whatever slamming into him.

Though his body ached and was sore, his Dark-Hunter powers had allowed him to heal while he slept. In a few hours, even the soreness would be gone.

Until then, he needed out of this death trap of sunlight. Closing his eyes, Talon willed a dark cloud to cover the sun so that the bright daylight would no longer play havoc with his eyesight.

If he wanted to, he could summon enough clouds to turn the day sky as dark as night. But it wouldn't do him any good.

Daylight was still daylight.

His unique Dark-Hunter powers gave him a great deal of control over the elements, weather and healing, but not control over Apollo's domain. Light or dark, the daytime still belonged to Apollo, and even though Apollo was technically retired, the Greek god would never tolerate a Dark-Hunter walking about on his shift.

If Apollo caught sight of him outside or near a window during the light of day, Talon would be nothing more than a strip of fried bacon on the sidewalk.

Extra-crispy Celt didn't appeal to him in the least.

His eyes no longer burning, Talon started to leave the bed, then paused. There was nothing between him and the patchouli- and turpentine-scented sheets.

What's happened to my clothes? He was quite sure he hadn't undressed himself last night.

Had they... ?

He frowned as he searched his memory. No, it wasn't possible. If he'd been awake enough to have sex with her, he would have been awake enough to leave this place long before sunup.

"Where is it?"

He looked up at hearing the unfamiliar voice on the other side of the pink tie-dyed fabric, which was hung to form a wall around the bed.

Two seconds later, the fabric slid open to reveal an attractive woman who appeared to be in her late thirties. Her long black hair was pulled into a thick braid and she wore a long flowing black skirt and tunic.

She looked remarkably similar to the woman he'd met last night. And at first glance, she would be easy to mistake for her younger counterpart.

"Hey, Sunshine, your friend's awake. What's his name?"

"I don't know, Starla. I didn't ask."

Oh, but this is getting stranger and stranger.

Unperturbed by his presence, the woman walked into the room to the side of the bed where the nightstand stood. "You look like a Steve," she said as she bent down, lifted up the pink scarves, and started digging through a stack of magazines that was hidden beneath it. "Are you hungry, Steve?"

Before he could answer, she raised her voice. "It's not here."

"It's under the old copies of Art Papers."

"It's not here."

Sunshine entered the room. Walking with the grace of a fairy princess, she wore a long-sleeved purple dress so bright, he had to squint from the hue. As she crossed in front of the window, he realized the material was rather sheer, gifting him with a pleasant view of her lush, ample curves and the fact that she wore nothing beneath that dress.

Nothing except her tanned skin.

His throat went dry.

She was wiping paint from her hands with a towel as she moved to the nightstand without even glancing his way.

"It's right here," she said, pulling out a magazine and handing it to the older woman.

Finally, Sunshine looked to the bed and met his gaze. "Are you hungry?"

"Where are my clothes?"

She cast a sheepish look at Starla. "Did you ask his name?"

"It's Steve."

"It's not Steve."

Sunshine paid him no attention as she turned Starla to face him. Both women stared at him lying there on the bed as if he were some inanimate curiosity.

Talon moved the pink sheet up higher over his waist. Then, suddenly self-conscious, he moved his bare leg under the cover as well, and bent his knee so that the center part of his body wasn't quite so obvious underneath the thin cotton.

Still the two women stared at him.

"You see what I was telling you?" Sunshine asked. "Does he not have the most incredible aura you've ever seen?"

"He's definitely an old soul. With Druid blood. I'm sure of it."

"You think?" Sunshine asked.

"Oh, yeah. We need to talk him into letting us do a past-life regression and see what we come up with."

Okay, they were both nuts.

"Women," he said sharply. "I need my clothes, and I need them now."

"See," Sunshine said. "See the way his aura changes. It's absolutely living."

"You know, I've never seen that before. It's really different." Then Starla drifted out of the room as she flipped through the magazine.

Sunshine was still wiping paint off her hands. "Hungry?"

How did she do that? How could she shift from one topic to the other and then back again?

"No," he said, trying to keep her on the main point. "I want my clothes."

She actually cringed. "What happened to the tags in your pants?"

Talon frowned at the odd question. He was keeping a rein on his irritation and temper, but something about being around this woman made it difficult. "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, you know they were covered in blood..."

A bad feeling settled into his stomach. "And?"

"I was going to clean them, and-"

"Oh shit, you washed them?"

"It wasn't the washing that damaged them so much as the drying."

"You dried my leather pants?"

"Well, I didn't know they were leather," she said softly. "They felt really soft and strange so I thought they were pleather or something. I wash my pleather dress all the time without it disintegrating and shrinking like your pants did."

Talon rubbed his forehead with his hand. This was so not good. How on earth could he get out of her apartment in the middle of the day with no clothes on?

"You know," she continued, "you really shouldn't cut the tags out of your clothes."

It had been a long time since he had felt real, deep aggravation, but he was starting to feel it now. "Those were custom, handmade leather pants. They never have tags."

"Oh," she said, looking even more sheepish. "I would have bought you some more, but since they didn't have tags in them, I didn't know what size to buy."

"Great. I live to be stuck in strange places, naked."

She started to smile at him, then pressed her lips together as if thinking better of it. "I have some pink sweatpants that really wouldn't fit you, and even if they did, I'm sure you wouldn't want to wear them anyway, would you?"

"No. Did you wash my wallet too?"

"Oh, no. I took it out of your pants."

"Good. Where is it?"

She became quiet again and a feeling of doomed dread consumed him.

"Do I want to know?" he asked.

"Well..." He was beginning to hate that word since it seemed to portend doom for him and his belongings. "I put it on the washing machine at the Laundromat with your keys, and then I realized that I didn't have change for the washer, so I went to the change machine. I was only gone a second, but when I got back your wallet was gone."

Talon grimaced. "And my keys?"

"Well, you know when you wash just one thing it unbalances the machine? Your keys ended up getting jarred off the top of it and they went down a small drain."

"Didn't you get them back?"

"I tried, but I couldn't reach them. I had three other people try, but they're gone too."

Talon sat in stunned disbelief. Worse, he couldn't even get mad at her since she'd only been trying to help him. But he really, really wanted to be mad.

"I have no money, no pants, no keys. Do I still have my jacket?"

"Yes, it's safe. And I saved your Snoopy Pez dispenser from the washer too. And your boots and knife thing are right here," she said, holding them up from the floor by the bed.

Talon nodded, feeling strangely relieved by the knowledge that she hadn't destroyed everything he'd had on him last night. Thank the gods his motorcycle had been left by the Brewery. He shuddered to think what she might have done to it. "Is there a phone I can use?"

"In the kitchen."

"Could you please bring it to me?"

"It's not cordless. I always lose those things or I drop them someplace and break them. The last one I had ended up drowning in the toilet."

Talon looked uneasily at the woman and the faint sunlight in the room. He wondered which one of them was the most lethal to him.

"Would you mind pulling down the shades?" he asked.

She frowned. "Does the sunlight bother you?"

"I'm allergic to it," he said, falling into the lie Dark-Hunters used when caught in similar situations.

Although he doubted if any Dark-Hunter had ever found himself in a situation similar to this one.

"Really? I've never known anyone allergic to sunlight before."

"Well, I am."

"So you're like a vampire?"

The word hit just a little too close to home. "Not exactly."

She moved to the window, but when she pulled the shade down, it fell.

Gray sunlight spilled across the bed.

With a curse, Talon shot into the corner, narrowly missing the pale sunbeams.

"Sunshine, I..." Starla's voice broke off as she entered the room and caught sight of him standing naked in the corner. She eyed him in an odd, detached way, as if he were an interesting piece of furniture.

Talon and modesty were strangers, but the way she stared at him made him damned uncomfortable.

In spite of the sunlight, Talon grabbed the pink blanket off the bed and clutched it to his middle.

"You know, Sunshine, you need to find a man like that to marry. Someone so well hung that even after three or four kids, he'd still be wall to wall."

Talon gaped.

Sunshine laughed. "Starla, you're embarrassing him."

"Oh, believe me, that's nothing to be embarrassed over. You ought to be proud. Strut it. Trust me, young man, women your age would love to have some of that."

Talon snapped his gaping jaw shut. These were the strangest women he'd ever had the misfortune of being near.

Gods, get him out of here.

Starla looked up at Sunshine in the window. "What are you doing?"

"He's allergic to the sun."

"It's so cloudy outside, it's almost dark."

"I know, but he says he can't be in it."

"Really? So you brought home a vampire? Cool."

"I'm not a vampire," he reiterated.

" 'Not exactly,' he said earlier," Sunshine said. "What's not exactly a vampire?"

"A werewolf," Starla said. "With his aura, it makes sense. Wow, Sunny, you found yourself a werewolf."

"I'm not a werewolf."

Starla looked really disappointed by the news. "What a pity. You know, when you live in New Orleans, you expect to meet the undead or damned at least once in a while." She looked back to Sunshine. "You think we should move? Maybe if we lived over by Anne Rice we might catch sight of a vampire or werewolf."

Sunshine replaced the shade. "I'd be happy to see a zombie."

"Oh, yeah," the older woman concurred. "You know, your dad said he saw one out on the bayou right before we got married."

"That was probably the peyote, Mom."

"Oh. Good point."

Talon's jaw went slack again as he looked back and forth between them. Mother and daughter? They certainly didn't act that way, and Starla didn't look that much older than Sunshine, but there was no denying the similarities of their features. Or the oddity of them both.

Oh yeah, insanity ran deep in the roots of that family tree.

Sunshine lowered the shade for the other window.

Wrapping the blanket around him, Talon carefully stepped through the room and was relieved to find a rather bare, open loft on the other side of the drapes.

There was another row of windows on his left where Sunshine had sectioned off a small drawing studio. But the rest of the loft was blissfully dark and devoid of sunlight. Keeping the blanket wrapped around his hips, he made his way toward the phone in the kitchen.

"Well, Sunshine, now that he's awake and I agree he's not threatening-"

Talon arched a brow at that comment. There had never been a time in his life he hadn't been threatening! He was a Dark-Hunter. That term alone inspired terror in the things that gave evil a bad name.

"-I'm going to go down to the club and pay some bills, make some orders, and do real work."

"Okay, Starla, I'll see you later."

He had to get out of this place. These women not only lacked sense, but they were too weird for words.

Starla kissed Sunshine's cheek and left.

After several minutes of looking, Talon found the phone cord in the wall and trailed it to the old-fashioned dial phone, which was hiding in a kitchen drawer that also contained a wide assortment of dry paintbrushes and tubes of acrylics.

He pulled the phone, painted with wild fluorescent colors, out of the drawer and placed it on the counter next to a pink pig-shaped cookie jar that held small cinnamon-scented rice cakes.

Picking up the receiver, he dialed Nick Gautier, who had once been the Squire, or human helper, for Kyrian of Thrace. Since Kyrian had married Amanda Devereaux a few months ago and had left behind his official Dark-Hunter status, Nick had become Talon's unofficial, part-time Squire. Not that Talon wanted a Squire. Humans had a nasty way of dying around him, and Nick had a mouth on him that was guaranteed to get the boy killed one day.

Still, there were times when a Squire came in handy. Now was definitely one of them.

The phone rang until the message came on that the cellular customer was unavailable.

Damn. That meant making the one call he'd rather be killed again than make. If the other Dark-Hunters ever found out about this, he'd never hear the end of it. Squires were sworn to an oath of secrecy. They were forbidden to ever reveal anything that was embarrassing about a Dark-Hunter or anything that could endanger them.

Unfortunately, other non-Squired human helpers didn't make such an oath.

Oh yeah, Nick Gautier was a dead man when he got his hands on him.

Preparing himself mentally for what was to come, he called Kyrian of Thrace who answered on the first ring.

"Talon?" Kyrian said as soon as he recognized his voice. "It's noon, what's wrong?"

Talon slid a glance to Sunshine, who was singing "Puff the Magic Dragon" as she passed him to enter the kitchen. "I... uh... I need a favor."

"Anything."

"I need you to go to my place and get my spare keys, another cell phone and some money."

"Yeah, okay. Did you have to ditch your bike?"

"Yeah, she's in the Brewery parking lot so I need you to bring her to me for tonight."

"Okay, where do I bring her?"

"Hang on." Talon pulled the phone away from his ear. "Sunshine?"

She turned to look at him.

"Where the hell am I?" Even with the phone on his shoulder, he heard Kyrian's mocking laughter.

"You know the nightclub Runningwolf's that's on Canal Street?"

He nodded.

"We're directly over it."

"Thanks." He relayed the information to Kyrian.

"Talon, I swear, your hormones are going to get you killed someday."

He didn't bother to correct Kyrian. They'd known each other for over a thousand years and Talon had never before been caught out like this. Kyrian wouldn't believe the truth of how he came to be in this loft. Hell, he barely believed it himself. "I also need you to bring me some clothes."

The silence in his ear was deafening.

Oh yeah, Nick was such a dead man when Talon got his hands on him.

"What?" Kyrian asked hesitantly.

"I lost my clothes."

Kyrian laughed. Hard.

"Shut up, Kyrian, it's not funny."

"Hey, from where I'm standing it's funny as hell."

Yeah, well, from where Talon was standing, with a pink blanket wrapped around his hips, it wasn't.

"Okay," Kyrian said, sobering. "We'll be over there as soon as we can."

"We?"

"Me and Julian."

Talon cringed again. An ex-Dark-Hunter and an Oracle. Great. Just great. They would never let him live this down and by nightfall one of them would be guaranteed to post this on the Dark-Hunter.com Web site for everyone to laugh about.

"All right," Talon said, tamping down his ire. "See you in a little while."

"You know," Sunshine said as soon as he hung up. "I could just go buy you some clothes. I do owe you."

Talon glanced around the loft. It looked as if a bottle of Pepto-Bismol had exploded, or the Cat in the Hat had come for a visit. There was pink everywhere. But what struck him most was the dilapidated condition of her furniture and her piecemeal decorations. Definitely a starving artist, the last thing this woman could afford was a pair of two-thousand-dollar pants, and the earth would stand still and shatter before Talon ever put denim on his body.

"It's all right," he told her. "My friends will take care of it."

She brought him a plate of muffins and what appeared to be grass. "What's this?"

"Breakfast... or lunch." When he didn't take it, she added, "You need to eat. It's good for you. It's a cranberry bran muffin with flaxseed and alfalfa sprouts."

There was nothing on that plate that came close to resembling food. Especially to a man who was born and bred to be a Celtic chieftain.

Okay, Talon, you can cope with this. "Do you have any coffee?"

"Ew! No, that stuff will kill you. I have herbal teas, though."

"Herbal teas? That's mulch, not a beverage."

"Oooo, Mr. Picky woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

No human had ever been so flippant with him. Even Nick knew better. Feeling totally out of his element, Talon gave up.

"Fine. Where's your bathroom?"

Then right behind that came the thought, Please tell me you have one inside this loft and not out back in a parking lot.

She pointed to a dark corner of the loft. "Right there."

It was another area sectioned off by a hanging curtain. How wonderful was this?

And he'd mistakenly thought the Middle Ages were over.

Oh, what fond memories... not.

Talon walked over to it and had just pulled the curtain closed and dropped the blanket to the floor when Sunshine joined him. She held a pink towel and washcloth in her hands and stopped dead in her tracks when she caught sight of him standing there naked.

She put the towel on the sink and moved around him, looking him up and down. "You are just simply male perfection, you know that?"

He would have felt flattered had she not looked like someone sizing up a car. It wasn't desire for him that made her say that. Her tone was detached, the way her mother's had been.

She ran her warm, smooth hand down his back, over his tattoo. "Whoever gave you this tattoo was a very talented artist."

Chills spread over him as her hand glided down his spine to his hip. "My uncle did it," he said before he could stop himself. He hadn't spoken of his uncle with anyone in centuries.

"Really? Wow." She slid her hand up across his shoulders to the Dark-Hunter bow-and-arrow brand on his right shoulder blade. "Where did this come from?"

Talon shrugged her touch away. That was one mark he would never talk about to an uninitiated human. "It's nothing."

It was then her gaze fell to his erection. Her face turned as pink as the towel. "Sorry," she said quickly. "I tend to not think before I act."

"I noticed." But what made it so bad was that she continued to stare at his erection. She had yet to look anywhere else.

"You really are a big man."

For the first time in over a thousand years, he felt his cheeks warm. Grabbing the towel, Talon covered himself.

Only then did she look away. "Here, let me get you a razor." She dropped to her knees, giving him a nice view of her bottom as she rummaged around in a makeshift pink wicker cabinet next to the pedestal sink. Her hips moved provocatively as she searched, only adding to his desire.

He clenched his teeth. That woman had the sexiest bottom he'd ever seen. One that made his groin burn even more as he thought about lifting that gauzy skirt and burying himself deep inside her. Of sliding himself in and out of her moist heat until they were both sweaty and spent.

Oh yeah, she was definitely a woman who could satisfy a man. He'd always been partial to women with lush curves and...

She emerged with a pink razor and toothbrush.

Talon curled his lip at the thought of using such girly items. "Do you own anything not pink?"

"I have a purple razor if you'd rather."

"Please."

She pulled out a darker pink one.

"That's not purple," Talon said. "It's pink too."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Well, that's all I have unless you want my X-Acto blade."

Extremely tempted, he took the razor from her.

Sunshine didn't move until he got into the claw-footed tub and pulled the shower curtain closed. Only then did she allow herself to bite her knuckles at the luscious view of his naked backside. She was definitely going to have to sketch him.

That man was hot. Burning. And every time he spoke with that wildly exotic accent of his, she melted. It sounded like some unique combination of English and Scottish.

Fanning her face, she forced herself to leave the bathroom and head back to her kitchen. But what she really wanted to do was peel her clothes off, climb into the shower behind him, and lather that lush, tall, lean body of his until he begged her for mercy.

The feel of all that supple, hard skin under her hands... Heaven. Pure heaven.

And he hadn't even gotten mad about his pants! She still couldn't believe how well he took it all. Normally, guys would be shouting at her by now and she'd be giving them the heave-ho out the door.

But he had merely shrugged it off. Oooo, she liked that.

Now that she thought about it, he really didn't have a whole range of emotions that he showed. He was patience incarnate, which was a very nice change of pace.

"Hey, Steve?" she called.

"My name isn't Steve," he said from the shower. "It's Talon."

"Talon what?"

"Just Talon."

She smiled. Talon. It suited him.

"What did you want?" he called.

"What?" she asked.

"You called me like you had a question. What do you need?"

Sunshine bit her lip as she tried to remember. Oops. "I forgot."

She actually heard him laugh. Wow. That was a first. By now most guys would be flaming mad at her.

Sunshine spent the next five minutes trying to find her sketchbook, which she had somehow placed in the refrigerator. Again. She took a seat at her breakfast counter and started sketching her newest find.

Talon.

She took her time drawing the well-sculpted planes of his face, the intricate tattoo on his body. She'd never seen any man with proportions more perfect. And before she knew it, she was lost in those lines. Lost in her mind as she let her creativity flow and reproduce the things she found so incredibly fascinating about the man in her shower.

Before she realized how much time had passed, he turned the shower off and came out from behind the curtain with a damp towel draped around his lean hips.

Oh, mama.

Sunshine once again felt the urge to bite her hand in appreciation. With the exception of the two thin braids that swung with his movements, his golden-blond hair was slicked back and his jet-black eyes flashed with intelligence and arcane power. She'd never seen eyes so dark, especially on a blond man.

He had such a powerful presence that it made her breathless just to look at him. It was as if the very air around him were rife with energy and strength, and she wished most of all that she could capture that with her art.

But no one would ever be able to duplicate or create an aura so intense. It was something that could only be experienced in the flesh.

With every step he took closer to her, her heart pounded harder. The man was so overwhelmingly masculine. So very choice.

His intensity, his raw animal magnetism... set fire to her blood.

He'd been handsome last night in her bed, but upright and conscious, he was totally devastating.

"You know, Talon," she said, tracing the lines of his perfect muscles with her gaze. "Towels look really good on you. You go outside like that and you'll start a whole new fashion craze."

An amused smile hovered at the edges of his lips. "Do you always say everything that comes to your mind?"

"Mostly. I do have some thoughts I keep to myself. I used to not care and would say anything at all, but then one time my college roommate called the psycho unit on me. You know, they really do have white coats."

Talon arched a brow at the sincerity he sensed from her. That was a true story. The woman was eccentric, no doubt, but far from a crackpot.

Well, maybe not that far.

She reached over to his untouched "breakfast" and picked up the so-called muffin that had shiny little particles in it he couldn't even begin to identify. "You still haven't eaten your muffin."

Yeah, right. He still hadn't eaten his boots either, and he'd rather feast on one of them than that thing in her hand.

"I'm not hungry."

At least not for food.

She dropped the muffin to the counter and he swore it thunked. Her brow furrowing, she reached out and touched his tore. Her fingers brushed against the skin of his neck, raising chills and other things on his body.

"This is so beautiful. I've always wanted a tore, but never could find one that seemed like me." She ran her thumb over the right dragon head. "Are you from Scotland?"

"Not exactly," he said, watching the way she studied the piece, which had been a gift from his aunt on his wedding day. Both he and Nynia had received matching tores from her. He didn't know why he still wore it, other than the fact that taking it off would cause him more pain than he was willing to deal with. In some odd way, removing the tore would be like losing Nynia all over again.

Against his will, his mind drifted back to the moment when Nynia had placed the tore around his neck. Her smile had been blinding and her face filled with love as she kissed him on his lips.

Gods, how he missed her. Even after all these centuries.

There were times when he swore he could still smell the warmth of her hair. Feel her touch. It was like the ghost itch of a missing limb that, even years later, you swore you could still feel.

There was something about Sunshine that reminded him of his wife. And it wasn't just the fact that both women possessed the ability to drive him crazy.

Sunshine was strangely fascinating. Much like him, she saw things on another level, things that were hidden from this plane of existence.

Her mind flashed from one thing to another like bursts of lightning, which was as intriguing as it was confusing. Nynia was the only other person he'd ever met with that trait.

As a mortal man, he had often been confounded by Nynia's unique logic.

"You know," Sunshine said, "you say 'not exactly' a lot. You're not exactly a vampire. You're not exactly from Scotland, and you're allergic to daylight. What else?"

"I hate bran muffins and grass."

She laughed at that, a rich, throaty sound that warmed him. He watched in fascination as she used a stained rag to clean the charcoal from her long, elegant fingers. "So how long until your friends get here?"

"A couple of hours, no doubt. I live way outside of town."

Sunshine looked down at the towel around his hips. If she kept him here like that, there was no telling what might happen.

Actually there was, which meant she really needed to get some clothes on him... fast.

He took a deep breath, the gesture accentuating the muscled indentations of his hard, defined abs.

Oh yeah, she needed to cover up that temptation.

"I tell you what, Mr. Talon No-Last-Name. Why don't I go out and get you something to put on until your friends get here?"

Because I don't want you to leave. Talon blinked at the bizarre, uncharacteristic thought.

Where had that come from?

There was something compelling about this woman. Something strong and at the same time vulnerable. He felt in her a need to make amends for what she'd done to him. Why, he couldn't imagine. Especially since she had saved his life.

Had she left him out on the street, he would be dead now. A fried stain on the sidewalk.

"You don't have to, you know."

"I know. But I insist. It's the least I could do since I destroyed your pants."

As he looked at her kind, compelling face, which was framed by straight, jet-black hair, he became fascinated by the way her lips curved. The way they held a hint of a smile even while she was relaxed. Sunshine was more than just her name, it was also her attitude. Happy, warm.

She was totally irresistible and he wanted a taste of her so badly that he wasn't sure why he hadn't already sampled her.

He needed to taste her. To feel her.

Sunshine watched while Talon studied her lips. There was enough heat in his obsidian gaze to set fire to a glacier. He had yet to touch her and still she swore she could feel him surrounding her with heat, with need.

The air around her seemed sexually charged. It practically sizzled with eroticism and longing. She'd never felt anything like this in her life.

Talon oozed an inhuman sexual attraction. She was drawn to him in a way she'd never been drawn to any man.

His eyes narrowing, he dipped his head and took possession of her lips with a masterful kiss that made her head literally spin. Her body melted.

She moaned at the taste of his lips against hers as his tongue swept passionately into her mouth. He pulled her up from her bar stool, into his strong arms, and ran his hands over her back, clenching the fabric of her dress in his fists.

The raw, manly scent of him invaded her as she felt his muscles flex around her. His virile potency was almost more than she could take.

This was an earthy man who knew his way around a woman's body. She could feel it in his masterful kiss, in the way he knew just where and how to caress her.

Her body burning with desire, she clutched at his bare shoulders as she felt him harden even more against her stomach.

She'd never experienced anything like this. It was as if he were starving for her.

Only her.

When he finally pulled back, she realized she had surrendered her weight to him and he had supported all of her without even tightening his muscles. Jeez, the man was strong.

He brushed his thumb over her swollen lips, his eyes so warm and tender that it made her even more breathless than his kiss. "I'm a thirty-three waist and a thirty-eight inseam."

"Um-hmm," she breathed without hearing him. She swayed toward him for another kiss.

Talon felt a strange stirring inside him at the dazed and adoring look on her face.

"Kiss me again," she whispered an instant before she claimed his lips with hers.

He cupped her head in his hands as he explored her mouth, being careful not to let her accidentally brush her tongue against his fangs and learn the truth about him.

But it was hard to pull back when the taste of her drove him so close to madness. Her patchouli-and-turpentine scent intoxicated him and he ached to pull the hem of her dress up and slide his hand over her lush thighs to her...

Her tongue came dangerously close to his fangs.

Pulling back, he released her.

That had been just a bit too close for comfort, but not nearly as close as he wanted to get to her. He dropped his gaze to her body, outlined by her dress. She was a full-bodied woman, not tiny or petite. And she had large, lush breasts-something he'd always been partial to.

Clenching his teeth, he fought the vicious need to take her into his arms and sample those breasts with his mouth. His hands.

His tongue.

Better still, his fangs...

"Okay," she said in an odd, high-pitched voice. "That was nice." She clapped her hands together and took a step back. It wasn't until her gaze fell to the towel that the light came back into her dark brown eyes. "Clothes. You need clothes before I do something I might not regret. What was your size again, Steve?"

"Talon."

"Talon. Size. Clothes. Cover him up."

Talon smiled as he watched her trying to keep her mind focused while her eyes continued to drift over him with desire.

He liked this woman. In spite of her peculiarities, there was something very refreshing and pure about her.

"I'm going to go get Talon clothes." She left, then came back a few seconds later. "Keys," she said, heading to a pink canister on the kitchen counter. "Need keys for car." She left only to return again. "Purse. Money for clothes."

Talon raked his hand through his wet hair as she left one more time and wondered if she'd forgotten anything else.

She had.

"Shoes," she said the next time. "Must have shoes to shop and keep feet warm." She slid her feet into a pair of mules by the door.

"What about a coat?" Talon asked as he noticed she was heading out again. "It is wintertime."

"Coats are good in the winter," she said, going to a rack by the door he assumed was her closet. She pulled on an old brown overcoat that seemed completely not her style. "Be back shortly."

"Wait."

She paused to look at him.

Talon quirked his lips as he crossed the room and undid her misbuttoned coat. Straightening it, he buttoned it correctly.

"Thank you," she said, smiling a smile that did the oddest things to his groin and stomach.

All Talon could do was nod, especially since what he really wanted to do was pick her up in his arms and carry her to the bed and make love to her for the rest of the afternoon.

"I'll be back," she said, heading out.

After she was gone, he finally allowed himself to smile broadly. She was definitely something else.

Something that reminded him of a warm spring day after a harsh winter. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him the way she did. A long time since someone had stayed in his thoughts.

"You like her."

He turned his head to look over his shoulder at the spirit that flickered there. "She's interesting," he said to Ceara.

Ceara moved forward to stand by his side. Her pale cheeks held an ethereal blush as she shimmered between this plane of existence and the next.

She should have crossed completely over to her eternal rest or rebirth centuries before, but she had refused to leave him alone.

And though it was terribly selfish, Talon had been grateful for her company. Especially back in the days when he'd been unable to stay in touch with his Dark-Hunter brethren via modern technology.

Back then, his isolation had been hellish. He'd spent days alone, never daring to let any human near him for fear of his curse. Never daring to reach out to anyone for anything.

The only relief he'd known was his sister's infrequent visits.

But every time he looked at Ceara, he was painfully reminded of how badly he had failed her. He should have been able to help her the day she died. Had he not been a fool, she would have lived out the life she deserved. A life filled with a husband and children.

Instead, she'd been sacrificed because he had been a stupid, arrogant ass.

The first time she'd come to him after their deaths had shattered him. There had been no accusations from her, no hatred, even though he deserved it.

She had shown him only compassion and love.

"I promised you I would never leave you alone, my brathair. And I won't. I will always be here for you."

Over the centuries, her presence had been the only thing that kept him grounded and allowed him to function. Her friendship and love had always meant everything in the world to him.

Ceara brushed a sisterly hand over the bruise on his right thigh. He couldn't feel it like a real touch, but the gesture caused his skin to tingle. "It no longer bothers you?"

"No. I'm fine."

"Speirr," she said, speaking his name in their native Celt. "You know to be honest with me, brathair."

He reached to brush a tendril of blond hair from her cheek, only to remember he couldn't touch her.

He closed his eyes as he remembered the past.

Their clan had slain her just days before her sixteenth birthday.

"She will be our sacrifice to the gods and they shall forgive us for the transgressions of our leader..."

Talon clenched his teeth against the grief and guilt that swelled inside him. Her death had been his fault. He had killed her as surely as if he'd been the one holding the knife.

But he pushed those thoughts away and found the numbness he needed to function.

I'm no longer human and there is no past. Acheron's litany ran through his mind, allowing him to suppress everything.

There was only now and the future. His human life far behind him, he was a Dark-Hunter whose entire existence was to seek out and destroy the evil that preyed on the humans who had no knowledge of what lay in the darkness waiting for them.

"My leg"-unlike his heart-"only hurts a little."

She shook her head at him. "This is not a safe place for you, Speirr. There is too much light. I don't like for you to be here."

"I know. I'm leaving as soon as I can."

"Very well, then I shall leave until you need me."

She faded away and left him alone. Again.

Talon's gaze fell to the counter where Sunshine had been sitting when he joined her. He frowned as he caught sight of the sketch she'd been working on.

Picking it up, he was impressed by how well she had captured his likeness.

The woman was a brilliant artist. She was able to put emotions and meaning into even the simplest of lines. He'd never seen anything like it.

Unfortunately, he couldn't leave it here.

He tore the page out and used his powers to burn it. Dark-Hunters were forbidden to allow their likenesses to be captured in any medium or form. No one needed proof of their immortality. Such evidence would only lead to questions and complications none of them wanted.

He just hoped she didn't reproduce it after he left.

Talon glanced around the loft and noted that the entire area was littered with framed and unframed art. The floor, a long drawing table, and three easels were scattered with half-finished projects.

Crossing the room, he went to examine them closer. He lost track of time as he looked them over, then found more paintings leaning against the wall by the bedroom. Sunshine liked vivid colors in her work, and her brushstrokes on canvas were as light and gentle as the lady herself.

But it was her pottery that fascinated him most. The pieces were a fiery mixture of color, and the designs of them were far from modern. She must have studied Greek and Celtic cultures extensively to reproduce such authentic copies. It was remarkable how true to the past they were. If he didn't know better, he would swear a Were-Hunter had brought them forward in time.

A knock sounded on the door.

Talon set the bowl he was looking at back with the others on the shelf by the door. He stepped to the door and opened it to see Kyrian and Julian standing on the other side.

They both gaped as they caught sight of him standing virtually naked in the loft.

Talon quickly slammed the door shut.

Kyrian roared with laughter. Talon cringed.

"C'mon, Tally," Kyrian teased from the other side. "Don't you want your clothes, your keys? Oh wait, how about some dignity?"

Talon opened the door, grabbed Kyrian by the shirt and hauled him inside. "You are such an asshole."

Kyrian laughed even harder as Julian Alexander walked in.

By his expression, Talon could tell that Julian wanted to laugh too, but he was trying hard not to. Talon appreciated it.

Kyrian, on the other hand, wasn't so kind. "Nice knees, bud, but the hairy legs could use a Bush Hog."

"Shut up." Talon grabbed the bag of clothes from Kyrian's hand and pulled his leather pants out. "Julian, I just want to thank you for being a grown-up and not laughing at my expense."

His hands in his pants pockets, Julian nodded. "Well, having been in your shoes, I can relate. Of course, in my defense, my towel was at least dark green and not pink."

The two of them roared with laughter while Talon groaned.

Kyrian flicked at the edge of the towel. "What is this? Lace?"

"No," Julian said, "I think it's called crochet."

Talon bared his fangs at the two of them. "Better be careful, humans, or I might decide to feed off you."

"Uh, half-human," Julian reminded him. "Feed off me and I'll give you a bellyache from hell."

Growling at them, Talon quickly exchanged his towel for his pants.

"So," Kyrian said. "Have you become Ravyn now? Do I need to forewarn Nick you'll be shedding your clothes on a daily basis or what?"

Talon rolled his eyes at the mention of the Katagari Dark-Hunter. Ravyn was a shapeshifter who often got caught naked after sunup. "No, it's a one-time thing." I hope. "Speaking of Nick, where is he? I tried to call him for this chore."

"He's in class."

"Yeah, well, he's still on Dark-Hunter payroll, so tell him to keep his phone turned on."

"Ooo," Kyrian said. "Getting testy in your fierce nakedness."

Talon ignored him as he pulled his black T-shirt on.

Sunshine paused beside Selena Laurens's tarot-card stand in Jackson Square. Selena's brown frizzy hair was tied back with a leopard-print scarf, and her thin body was covered with a black-and-white houndstooth coat.

"Hey, Sunny," Selena greeted her. "I was wondering if you were sick or something since you're not out here with your art."

"Oh no, someone came up."

Selena arched a brow at her. "Someone old or someone new?"

"New."

Selena looked a bit skeptical. "I hope this one is nicer than that last bozo you dated."

Sunshine wrinkled her nose as she remembered Greg. A rough biker, he'd been less than desirable and he'd kept confusing her with his ex-girlfriend Sara-nothing like being called the wrong name while having sex with someone.

Not to mention, he'd borrowed three hundred dollars from her the day before she'd kicked him out. Although, all things considered, it was worth the three hundred dollars to be rid of him.

"He seems to be." She patted her bag with Talon's clothes. "Well, I need to be getting back to him-"

"Sunshine!" Selena snapped. "Tell me you didn't."

"Didn't what?"

"Leave him in your loft unattended."

"It's okay. He's safe."

Selena groaned. "Woman, that generous heart of yours gets you into more trouble. Do you know this guy at all?"

Sunshine took a deep breath. She was so tired of everyone lecturing her. "I'll see you later, Madame Selene." She rushed back down the street toward her car with Selena fussing at her the whole way.

Ugh! Why couldn't anyone ever trust her? She wasn't a two-year-old. And being absentminded didn't equate to stupidity. If her kindness killed her, then she was better off dead than living a cold, unfeeling life where she misered up all her feelings and possessions.

Besides, Talon wasn't like other men. She knew it. He seemed to have a lot more heart than most men she'd known.

He was electrifying. Dangerous. Mysterious.

Best of all, he was waiting naked in her loft.

Getting into her car, she headed home.

It didn't take long to reach her father's club and pull around to the back where she always parked. Sunshine frowned as she saw a huge black Harley motorcycle parked beside a black Lamborghini.

Talon's friends?

Hmm, maybe Wayne was right. Maybe Talon was a drug dealer.

Not quite so sure of him, she got out of her car and used the back door that opened into the empty club.

She rushed up the steel-and-concrete stairs to her loft.

Pushing open the door, she froze as she caught sight of three men, all of whose testosterone levels were off the Richter scale. They were absolutely devastating.

Whoa, she needed a sketchbook. Pronto.

Talon was dressed in black leather pants and a tight T-shirt that hugged every crevice of his deadly male perfection.

He stood talking to the two men in her kitchen-two incredibly handsome men. Men who were dressed like professionals and not out-of-work bikers.

How wonderfully refreshing.

"Hi, Sunshine," Talon greeted her. "These are my friends."

The one who was Talon's height held his hand out to her. "Kyrian Hunter," he said in an enchanting accent that was nothing like Talon's.

Sunshine shook his strong, callused hand as she recognized the name. "So you're Selena's brother-in-law. She talks about you and Amanda all the time."

Kyrian was slightly leaner than Talon, with laughing green eyes and an easy smile. His blond hair was a shade darker than Talon's and cut in a very hip style. "I think I should be afraid of what she says about me. Knowing her, there's no telling."

Sunshine smiled. "It's all good, I promise you."

"This is Dr. Julian Alexander," Talon said, introducing the other man, who wore a navy sweater and khakis.

"Nice meeting you," Julian said, extending his hand.

Sunshine responded in kind. Julian was about two inches shorter than the other two and yet his aura was every bit as strong and powerful. His eyes were a gorgeous blue and his hair the same shade as Kyrian's. He was also the most subdued of the three of them, but his eyes were no less friendly.

"Doctor?" she asked.

"I teach Classics at Loyola."

"Oh. Do you know Selena Laurens too?"

Julian nodded. "Very well. She's best friends with my wife."

"Grace?" Sunshine said. "You're married to Grade?"

Recognition hit them at the same time.

"That was you?" she asked, stepping around to view him from behind. Oh yeah, now that she remembered. "You're Mr. Hot Bottom!"

His face went flush with embarrassment.

"Hot Bottom?" Talon asked. "This I've got to hear."

"Oh yeah," Kyrian added.

"We need to be going," Julian said, pushing Kyrian toward the door.

"Oh, like hell," Kyrian said. "Not until I hear this."

"Nice seeing you again, Sunshine," Julian said, shoving Kyrian out the door.

"Don't worry, Kyrian," Talon called. "I'll be sure to give you the full details."

Sunshine set the bag of clothes on her counter as the door slammed shut. "I guess you won't be needing these after all."

"Sorry." He leaned against the counter and watched her. "So, tell me how you met Julian."

She shrugged. "I sell my artwork at Jackson Square and I have a booth space next to Selena. A couple of years ago, she brought this bodacious guy to work with her wearing a tight tank top and shorts. Julian had really long hair back then. Anyway, there was this huge crowd of women who had gathered around to watch him. Selena thought it was a disaster, but I made so much money selling sketches of him that I didn't care."

Talon frowned as a very peculiar wave of jealousy went through him. And before he could stop himself, he asked, "Did you keep any of the sketches?"

"I only had one left, and I gave it to Grace about a year ago."

More relieved than he cared to admit, Talon watched her watch him. Her gaze traced the curve of his lips, the line of his jaw, and it made him ache to possess her, to kiss her lips one more time.

"You know, you are really handsome when you smile."

"Am I?" he asked, taking a strange amount of satisfaction from that.

"Yes, you are."

Sunshine swallowed as she realized there was no more reason for him to stay. Not that she should care; she needed to get back to her work. And yet at the same time she didn't want him to leave. "I guess you'll be going now that you're all dressed."

He looked askance at the sunlight. "I'm afraid I can't leave until the sun goes down."

"Oh." Sunshine tried to stifle the giddiness inside her.

He cleared his throat. "If you have things you need to do..."

"Oh no," she said quickly, then paused. "I mean, I... um... it would be rude, very rude, to leave you here alone. Especially since I don't have a TV or anything else for you to do." She licked her lips. "Well, since you can't leave, what would you like to do for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes."

"I'd like nothing better than to make love to you."