Darkness Unleashed (4 page)

“Sooo…you’re Darcy’s sister,” he murmured. “The resemblance is remarkable.”

Regan lifted her heavy lids, ignoring the biting anger that flared through her heart at the mention of her sister. Family issues? Nah. Not her.

“I thought gargoyles were bigger?” she said, more to change the subject than to be insulting.

Levet’s tail twitched. “I might be vertically challenged, but I assure you that I’m a highly respected warrior among the vampires. Indeed, I’m something of a Knight in Shining Armor. I can’t count the number of damsels I’ve rescued from imminent death and dismemberment, which, of course, is why I was sent to rescue you.”

A reluctant smile touched her lips. He looked more like a lawn ornament than a Knight in Shining Armor.

“Why would you help the vampires?”

“It’s a way to pass the time until I land my dream position.”

“Dream position?”

“Well, I’ve given up on the whole Vanna thing since Darcy pointed out that I’m not quite tall enough to reach the letters of the puzzle, so I’ve decided to take over
Deal Or No Deal
. Now that would be a sweet gig.”

Regan choked back a laugh. Culligan had been a television junkie, rarely turning off the thing when he was in the RV. Not that Regan complained. It at least offered her a glimpse of the world beyond her silver cage.

“Does Howie Mandel know he’s about to become unemployed?” she demanded, shaking off the savage memories.

“I thought I would keep it on the down-low for now. No need for him to go all Britney Spears before I’ve actually been offered the job.”

This time Regan couldn’t stop her chuckle. “Very thoughtful.”

“That’s me, a heart of gold. It’s both a blessing…” Dramatic pause. “And a curse.”

“Yes, I can imagine.”

A silence descended, broken only by the song of crickets and distant frogs. It was a comfortable silence. So comfortable that Regan was astonished to discover she didn’t mind the gargoyle’s company. In fact…

No. She swiftly squashed the treacherous thoughts. She didn’t want or need a companion. Not Levet, who could make her laugh, and certainly not Jagr, who could piss her off one moment, and the next, wreak sensual havoc with a single bite.

Against her will, Regan found her gaze searching through the darkness, her senses seeking some sign of the MIA vampire. She told herself she didn’t give a damn if Jagr had run off and gotten himself killed. One less vampire in the world couldn’t be a bad thing. Her only concern was…was…finding a place to sleep before the humans began filling the streets.

Yeah.

That was it.

Absolutely.

“You can trust him, you know.”

Levet’s lilting voice interrupted her dark broodings. She turned to find him regarding her with knowing gray eyes.

“What?”

“Jagr.” His tiny face twisted in a grimace. “I might not like the coldhearted bastard, but he’s a lethal warrior and he has made a pledge to return you safely to Chicago. He will give his own life before he will let you be hurt.”

Her fur (metaphorically speaking) was instantly ruffled. “I didn’t ask for anyone’s help.”

Levet snorted. “As if that ever stopped the pushy bastards.”

“You mean Darcy?”

“
Sacrebleu
, no.” The gargoyle was shocked by the mere suggestion. “I was speaking of the vampires. Darcy possesses the most gentle, most beautiful soul I have ever encountered. There’s no one who doesn’t love her.”

Regan ignored the pang of envy that struck her heart.

“Gentle soul? How the hell did we come from the same womb?”

Levet shrugged. “Life has given you a hardened shell, but your soul is just as pure. Which is no doubt what has Mr. Cold as Ice so on edge. And of course, the fact that you’re hot as hell does not hurt.”

Regan choked at the ridiculous claims. “You are…”

“
Oui?
”

“Very peculiar.”

The demon flapped his wings. “Well, that’s a fine thing to say to the demon who helped save your life.”

Regan shrugged. “I’m peculiar myself. It’s not all bad.”

“Yeah, well you’d never call Brad Pitt or McDreamy peculiar.”

“Tom Cruise.”

Levet considered, then nodded. “Valid point.”

“Weren’t you going to lead us to some caves, gargoyle?” an icy male voice demanded, the only warning that Jagr had silently appeared from the shadows.

The gargoyle squeaked, clapping a hand to his chest. “Holy mother of God, you nearly gave me a heart attack, and not in a good way.”

Jagr’s eyes narrowed. “The caves.”

“And I thought Styx was a grump.” With a flick of his tail, Levet turned and waddled down the street in an obvious snit. “This way.”

Regan hurried to follow Levet. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with the grim-faced vampire.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true.

The
last
thing she wanted was for him to sense the rapid pounding of her heart and the flare of awareness that stained her stupid cheeks with a blush.

What was wrong with her?

Okay, she’d reacted to his bite. And (as much as it griped her to admit it) to his kiss.

Jagr was a vampire. Everyone knew they used sex to lure their prey. And that even the most powerful of demons were susceptible. The only shocker would have been if she didn’t respond.

So why was she acting like a freaking preteen with a crush on her teacher?

Pathetic.

Sensing Jagr move to walk by her side, Regan gave herself a mental shake and squared her shoulders. Time to start acting like a mature pureblood.

Whatever the hell that meant.

“Where did you go?” she demanded.

His cool glance slashed in her direction. “I disposed of the bodies.”

“Oh.”

“Levet was right,” he continued smoothly. “They were curs. Three of them. Two were caught in Levet’s blast and one managed to escape.”

Her steps faltered. “Why aren’t we following his trail? Culligan might have sent him.”

“I followed the trail. It disappeared four blocks north of here.”

“Just like Culligan’s.”

“Yes.” The frosty blue gaze swept over her face. “Did the imp have a lot of contact with the curs during your imprisonment?”

“On occasion.” Regan grimaced. “No more than any other of the lowlife demons we encountered during our travels.”

“Travels?”

“Culligan never remained in one place more than a few nights. We crisscrossed the country a hundred times.”

“What about Hannibal? Did you stay here often?”

“No.” Regan shook her head. She’d heard of Hannibal, of course. Built on the edge of the mighty Mississippi River, it was the home of Samuel Clemons (Mark Twain), and the setting for many of his most famous novels. There was also some cave or another that had been the hiding spot for Jesse James (the History Channel was a wonderful thing). A charming town, but hardly a hot spot for demons. “He never even mentioned this place.”

Jagr considered her words as they crossed through an empty parking lot built close to the river. In the darkness, Regan could hear the waters that swirled and eddied around the tethered steamboat tied to the nearby dock.

“Then we can’t be certain that Culligan was behind the attack,” he at last concluded.

Great. New, mysterious enemies. Just what she needed.

“Why would the curs want to kill me?” she growled, as annoyed by Jagr’s cool reaction to her obvious danger as being shot at in the first place. Wasn’t he freaking sent to keep her safe? “I thought they worshipped pureblooded Weres?”

A golden brow arched at her churlish tone. “If there’s a local Were pack, they might think you’re a rogue. Weres are as territorial as vampires.”

“But what about the trail disappearing?”

“It’s a connection, but for all we know the curs slaughtered Culligan and covered his death with the same magic that hides their scent. We don’t know enough to jump to conclusions.”

He was right. Only a fool would ignore the possibility that there were other dangers beyond Culligan.

“Damn.”

Jagr’s icy expression softened at her weary concession. Never breaking stride, he thrust a paper bag into her hand and led her from the parking lot to the tangle of undergrowth that lined the river.

“Here.”

Regan frowned. “What’s this?”

“Food.” His gaze drifted down to her wrist. “You’ll need it to replenish the blood I took.”

White-hot heat flared through her, squeezing the air from her lungs. She could almost feel his fangs sinking into her flesh, and the sensuous tugs as he took her blood.

Ducking her head down, she ripped open the bag to discover two still warm bagels and a container of orange juice.

Her stomach rumbled in pleasure.

“Thanks,” she muttered, keeping her face hidden behind the thick curtain of her hair as she rapidly worked her way through the bagels.

Jagr retreated to his familiar silence, wise enough not to offer help when they reached a narrow path that led to the high bluff overlooking the river. Her nerves were already on edge. It wouldn’t take much to have her striking out, regardless of the consequence.

They climbed without speaking, and reaching the top of the bluff, Regan paused to throw away the empty bag, covertly leaning against the plastic trash can. The path had been a steep one, perilously sapping her waning energy.

In less than a heartbeat Jagr was at her side, his arm wrapping about her waist to haul her against the erotic power of his body.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” he demanded, his dark voice sliding down her spine, sending ripples of pleasure through her.

Oh…hell.

She wanted to lean into all that male hardness. To close her eyes and drown in his ruthless strength.

The need was as intense and unwelcome as the awareness that hummed through her body with tiny, electric jolts.

Placing her palms against his chest, she shoved. “I’m fine.”

He frowned down at her, refusing to loosen his grip. “You might be dizzy…”

She shoved again. “I said I’m fine. Just stop talking about it.”

“About what?” His hard lips twitched. “My feeding, or your reaction?”

Lifting her foot, she kicked him as hard as she could in the knee.

It couldn’t have hurt. Even at her full power, it would be difficult to injure such an ancient demon. Still, it was enough to catch him off guard. Using the nanosecond of distraction, Regan ducked beneath his arms and rushed toward the gargoyle, who was disappearing into the thick tangle of brush and trees that ran along the bluff.

“I swear to God, one day…” she muttered beneath her breath.

She didn’t know what she was going to do.

But it was going to be evil.

The cave that tunneled through the bluff was not large. The main chamber was the size of a human living room, and low enough that Jagr was in constant danger of banging his head. On the plus side, the entrance was narrow enough to prevent more than one attacker from entering at a time, and there was a smaller chamber in the back that had a shallow stream of water that emptied into a basin.

It was not the fact that it was easily defensible, or that there was a ready supply of fresh water, however, that made the cave seemed like a paradise, Jagr decided.

It was the armful of warm Were he had tucked close to his body as he lay on the hard floor.

Leaning on his elbow, Jagr studied Regan’s finely carved features. In sleep they appeared even more unbearably fragile. Her skin was a flawless ivory stretched over the perfectly formed brow and tiny nose. Her lips were lush, when not tightened with anger, and her lashes a thick curtain as they lay against her cheeks.

So lovely.

So breathtaking.

And so terrifying in her ability to fascinate him.

Jagr shook his head. He’d lived for centuries. Beautiful women had drifted in and out of his life with predictable regularity. But none had possessed the golden innocence of her soul. An innocence that the tortured darkness in him craved. As if her purity could soothe away the festering shadows.

And of course, there was the fierce, relentless courage that had allowed her to survive her years of torture.

Culligan had wounded her, but he had never broken her.

He was one of the few who could truly appreciate what it had cost her.

She was completely and utterly unique. A creature like no other he had ever encountered.

A strange hint of warning whispered to his heart. An instinctive awareness that his behavior since arriving in Hannibal was…uncharacteristic. The grim control and cool logic that had ruled him for centuries was being undermined by the tiny, ferocious Were currently snuggled against him.

He wasn’t sure whether he should be furious or terrified.

Certainly he shouldn’t have been…smug. As if he’d found a treasure that he hadn’t expected and didn’t even know he desired.

Perhaps sensing his inner conflict, Regan stirred against his chest. Jagr tightened his grip.

They had barely arrived at the cave when Regan had collapsed in exhaustion. For all her power and stubborn determination, she’d pushed herself too hard for too long and her body had simply shut down.

Without hesitation, Jagr had carried her to the back of the cave, placing her against the wall and lying down so he was between her unconscious form and the distant entrance. Nothing would be allowed to get to her without coming through him first.

At the time he’d told himself it was for her protection. He had made a pledge to keep her safe, and by the gods, that’s what he would do.

But no matter how he tried to twist logic, he knew it wasn’t a mere need to protect that led him to tenderly cradle her in his arms, or to awaken well before sunset just so he could study her pale, perfect face.

With a flutter, she lifted her thick tangle of lashes, revealing the emerald eyes that were still clouded by sleep.

There was a moment as she struggled to recall why she was lying in a strange cave in the arms of a vampire, a renegade hint of sensual awareness darkening her gaze before reality crashed through her fog, and she was angrily shoving her hands against his chest.

“What the hell…let me go.”

Jagr was caught off guard by the force of her blow, nearly losing his grip before he could roll on top of her and use his considerable weight to control her attempts to escape.

Her strength had returned with a vengeance.

Along with her temper.

A pity, since he could think of far better means of passing the next few minutes than fighting with the beautiful Were.

Ignoring the stirring of his body, Jagr met Regan’s furious glare with a stoic determination.

“Not until the sun has completely set. I won’t allow you to leave the cave until I can accompany you.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “You let me sleep the entire day?”

“Your mind is too strong. I can’t control your sleep patterns. You were obviously in need of the rest.”

“Dammit.” She wriggled beneath him. Jagr swallowed a groan at the delicious friction. “Let me go. Culligan could be miles away by now.”

It took his endless years of self-discipline and restraint to ignore the firm, deliciously female body beneath him. For now his biting need was secondary to keeping Regan safe.

Something he couldn’t ensure if she bolted from the cave and into the lingering sunset.

“Then a few minutes won’t matter,” he pointed out with the cool tones that seemed to set Regan’s teeth on edge. So long as she was contemplating the best means to stick a stake in his heart, she wasn’t plotting the means to escape him.

Predictably her face flushed with fury. “I’ll never forgive my sister for inflicting you on me. I bet she sent you to get you out of her…”

Before he could leash the impulse, his head was dipping down to capture her mouth in a silencing kiss. How else could he halt the angry tirade without physical harm? A noble goal that was swiftly undermined by the intoxicating heat that flared through his body.

This kiss had nothing to do with silencing Regan, and everything to do with the ravenous hunger that flared through him with a painful force.

He wanted this woman.

He wanted to stroke his lips over every inch of her pure, ivory skin. He wanted to kiss and lick and nibble over every delectable curve. He wanted to be buried deep inside her as he sank his fangs into her neck and drank of her potent blood.

More than anything, he wanted to hear those low, husky cries as she reached her climax.

Her fingers dug into his chest as he deepened the kiss, her lips softening. The scent of arousal bloomed on her skin, lengthening his fangs and making his heavy erection twitch in anticipation.

This was…right.

She fit perfectly beneath him, her feminine body soft and yet strong enough to handle an ancient vampire’s passion. Her scent was exactly blended to stir his deepest hungers. And her blood. Hell, his body still trembled with the power from his feeding.

Shifting his hands, Jagr tangled his fingers in the satin smoothness of her hair, drowning in sensations that were familiar, and yet completely unknown in their intensity.

After an eternity of hell, this was…paradise. There was no other word.

He teased at her lips, lightly nipping and stroking before exploring the stubborn line of her jaw. Her nails dug through the thin T-shirt, causing sharp darts of delicious pain, but his senses were too keen to miss the tiny moan of distress that was wrenched from her throat.

Regan’s body might respond with intoxicating urgency to his touch, but her mind didn’t trust him.

At this point, he doubted she was capable of trusting anyone.

Jagr lifted his head to regard her with a cool composure that disguised the frustration howling through his body.

“I did warn you not to insult my queen,” he murmured.

Her face was flushed with a combination of embarrassment and anger at having responded so readily to his touch.

“I wasn’t insulting my sister, I was insulting you.”

A hint of a smile touched his lips. “My mistake.”

She glared at him for a long moment, infuriated at her inability to toss aside his large body and flee as she desired. Then, with obvious effort, she wrapped herself in a brittle dignity.

“Where’s the gargoyle?”

Jagr’s smile faded at the mention of the tiny demon. He hadn’t been pleased when he’d returned from disposing of the curs’ bodies to discover Regan and Levet chatting as if they were old friends. He wasn’t certain why he was angered by the sight of the two of them together. Not even a reclusive vampire who spent more time with books than other demons would believe that Regan could be sexually attracted to the ugly little beast.

It was only now that he could acknowledge the truth. He’d been jealous that the stupid gargoyle had made Regan smile.

“Still in statue form,” he muttered. “Luckily for him.”

“He did find us these caves,” she countered, managing to keep her expression aloof, as if she were lying on the hard cave floor by choice, rather than being pinned by his heavy body.

Jagr felt a stirring deep inside him. He’d never encountered a woman with such extraordinary courage.

“I’m a vampire. There isn’t a cave I can’t sense.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Then why did you allow him to come with us?”

“Because my clansmen have several mates who are pecu-lairly attached to the pest.”

She blinked, caught off guard by his blunt confession.

“Surely big bad Jagr is not afraid of a few women?”

“I’m wise enough to fear a goddess, a Shalott demon, an Oracle, and even a pureblooded Were when she is enraged,” he said dryly, his gaze lowering to the lush temptation of her mouth. “Besides, there are few creatures more dangerous in the world than a woman.”

“You sound as if you have personal experience. Did some vamp babe break your heart?” she mocked.

With one fluid motion Jagr was on his feet, his features cold and unreadable. Regan couldn’t know his past, or the female vampire who had tortured him for centuries, but her taunt released the flood of nightmares that never truly left him in peace.

“It’s nearly dark. Do you need to feed?”

Regan scrambled to her feet, warily backing away as his icy power swirled through the cave.

“What I need is a shower and clean clothes.”

“Very well. Give me a moment.”

Jagr headed toward the back of the cave, cursing as he caught the scent of Regan’s unease. Dammit, Styx had been a fool to send him after the Were. He was a volatile warrior who was feared by his own brothers, not a nanny. What the hell did he know about wounded, overly proud, vengeance-obsessed women? Jack shit, that’s what.

So why wasn’t he hauling Regan back to Chicago and washing his hands of the ridiculous situation?

Bending downward, he unzipped the leather satchel he had brought with him from Chicago.

He heard Regan impatiently shuffle her feet behind him. “What are you doing?”

Jagr pulled out two finely crafted silver daggers and tucked them into his boots. There were few things that could best an ancient vampire, but he hadn’t lived so long by being stupid. If there were curs around, there were most certainly Weres. He would need the silver if they were attacked by an entire pack.

Straightening, he headed for the narrow entrance. “I’m ready.”

Regan ground her teeth as the vampire disappeared through the entrance of the cave. Did he think she would scurry behind him like a well trained dog?

Heel, Regan. Sit, Regan. Roll over, Regan
.

Arrogant bloodsucker.

Wasn’t it enough that he’d pinned her to the floor and kissed her until she’d melted into an embarrassing puddle of willing flesh? And then topped it off by going into his Mr. Freeze act, one that would terrify any rational creature?

She hadn’t asked for his interference. And she most certainly hadn’t asked for his damned toe-curling, stomach-churning kisses.

Why wouldn’t he just go back to Chicago and leave her alone?

Stomping across the cave, Regan slipped through the entrance and charged after Jagr’s retreating form. As much as she wanted to plant a fat wooden stake in his heart, she was smart enough to realize that she wasn’t strong enough to tangle with a vampire. Especially not when that vampire also happened to be a hulking freak of nature like Jagr. Christ, did the vampire tap the veins of steroid junkies?

No, if she were going to escape her current pain in the ass, it would only be with patience and a constant eye on opportunity.

It shouldn’t be tough. She had thirty years of practice.

Muttering curses beneath her breath, Regan lengthened her strides, catching up with Jagr as he reached the bottom of the high bluff.

“What about Levet?” she demanded.

“We’d never be so lucky as to lose him. He will find our trail soon enough.”

“Our trail? Where are we going?”

Jagr turned his head, his eyes capturing and reflecting the stars that sprinkled the velvet black sky overhead. Regan’s heart gave an odd twist. She’d never seen anything quite so beautiful.

“You said you wanted a shower and clothes.”

Her brows shot upward. He’d actually listened to her? And remembered the words that came out of her mouth?

Unnerved by the realization, Regan turned her attention to the street that lay just beyond the empty parking lot. There were the usual stores expected in a tourist town. Arts and crafts, souvenirs, antiques, a quaint coffee shop and bakery. All charmingly rustic, with large windows to display their wares.

Jagr led her past them without a word, thankfully missing her wistful gaze that lingered on a pretty necklace. She’d never possessed anything in her life but a few cheap clothes that Culligan tossed through the bars of her cage. Despite being a wolf by nature, she was still a woman at heart, and she couldn’t deny an instinctive urge to browse and gather and…well, frankly just buy a bunch of junk that she could call her own.

Lost in her thoughts, Regan was caught off guard when Jagr came to an abrupt halt before a red brick building. Barreling into his massive form, she hastily stepped back and glared into his impassive face.

“Holy crap, warn a girl, why don’t you?”

A golden brow flicked upward. “Will this do?”

“Do for what?”

“Clothing.”

“Oh.” She licked her suddenly dry lips as she glanced toward the elegant clothes displayed in the large window. “I…I don’t think it’s open.”

Stepping forward, Jagr pressed his hand against the door. For a moment nothing happened, then with a low squeak, the door swung inward.

“It is now.”

“What about the alarms?”

“They’ve been disarmed.”

“Security cameras?” He regarded her with that flat stare. At last she threw her hands up in defeat. “Fine, but if you get shot again, I’m not offering a vein,” she muttered, marching forward.