Darkness Unleashed

The heat he kept for his passion.



Which suited her just fine.



“Why won’t you take this serious?” His brows snapped together. “Dammit, Regan, you should be afraid of me.”



“You don’t get to tell me what I should feel, chief.” Lowering her hands, she poked his chest with a finger. “I’m perfectly capable of deciding if I should be afraid or not.”



“Then you’re a fool.”



Her temper, always ready to be set off, exploded.



Fine. He wanted to be a dick? Then he was going to get treated like one.



“Oh, yeah?” Knowing she would have only one opportunity to catch him off guard, Regan leaned into his hard body, deliberately rubbing her softer curves against him. Temporarily distracted by her ploy, Jagr was unprepared when her foot slid behind his leg and she suddenly pushed for all she was worth against his chest. The vampire grunted in surprise, unable to halt the inevitable fall. He landed hard on his back, but giving no mercy, Regan was swiftly perched on top of his chest, the dagger she’d yanked from the waistband of her jeans shoved directly above his heart. “Well, fool this,” she gritted.



She held her higher ground for less than the beat of a heart. With a low growl, Jagr twisted to the side, reversing their position so that she was pinned to the ground by his massive body.



“I think I’ve made my point,” he rasped.



“Not even close, chief. I would already have carved out your heart if I wanted.”



His expression was the perfect example of an exasperated male who’d reached the end of his rope.



Even his fangs were showing.



“Dammit, Regan.”



“No, damn you, Jagr,” she hissed, not about to back down. Jagr had isolated himself for centuries, pushing everyone away who might get too close. He wasn’t going to get by with it this time. “I get that you’re not a boy scout. Yippee kiyah. I don’t need a freaking saint. I need a warrior. I need…” She swallowed the uncomfortable lump in her throat, and forced herself to admit the truth. “You.”



He stilled, his eyes briefly revealing the stark, aching loneliness that was echoed deep within her before they were abruptly shuttered.



“Little one, I swore a vow that I would protect you.” His jaw twitched, as if he struggled to contain his emotions. “Even from myself.”



Her eyes narrowed. “And I swore a vow that I would never be at the mercy of another man.”



Jerking as if her words had struck a nerve, Jagr abruptly flowed to his feet, glaring down at her with an offended expression.



“You’re not at my mercy.”



“No?” She scrambled to her feet with a great deal less grace than Jagr, planting her fists on her hips. “You want to make my decisions for me. You want to tell me what’s best for me. You want…”



“I want to protect you, God dammit.”



“Maybe in your mind, but it feels like shackles to me.”



Without warning, his hands lifted to scrub his face in a gesture of utter weariness.



“God, you drive me crazy.”



She smiled wryly. She hadn’t won the battle, but she hadn’t lost.



Not yet.



“Welcome to my world,” she muttered.



Lowering his hands, Jagr gave a shake of his head, his gaze sweeping over the destroyed kitchen.



“This is not the time or place for this discussion.”



“Well, at least we can agree on one thing.” She grimaced. “We need to get out of here. Eventually someone is going to come looking for the guards.”



“You can return to Tane’s lair. I’ll…”



“You’ll come with me,” she interrupted.



His eyes narrowed as a cold blast of air filled the kitchen. “I have a few debts to pay off first.”



Already expecting his response, she smiled sweetly. “Do you really want me running around the countryside by myself, Jagr? Who knows what I might take it in my silly head to do?”



For a moment he struggled with his furious need to seek out vengeance. He’d been tormented in the worst possible way, and he needed to make those responsible pay.



At last his hands clenched as he accepted she couldn’t possibly be trusted to make her own way back to Tane’s lair. Typical male.



“You don’t play fair, wolf,” he muttered.



Her brows lifted. “And your point, vampire?”



He threw his hands up in resignation. “Let’s go.”



Stepping toward the door, Regan abruptly halted. “Wait there, I forgot something.” Turning, she headed for the door to the basement.



“Regan.”



She ignored his warning growl as she sprinted down the stairs and scooped up the amulet she had tossed near the door of the cell. The damned things had caused her nothing but headaches since coming to Hannibal. It seemed only fair that she have one to return the favor.



Shoving the amulet into her pocket, she raced upstairs to find Jagr pacing by the French doors that had seen better days.



“I’m ready.”



Offering her a frustrated glare, the vampire stepped through the busted window.



“You know, little one, for a woman who bitches about shackles, you’re willing enough to wrap them around me,” he accused in low, rough tones.



Regan refused to feel guilt for having manipulated Jagr as she followed his large form across the terrace and around the silent tea shop. At the moment he was in no condition to be out hunting curs. Not when his furious need for payback was greater than his sense of self-preservation.



Besides, she didn’t intend to allow his guilt over hurting her to fester into some big, freaking wound he would carry along with all his other scars.



Of course, that was easier said than done.



Flowing through the darkness at a speed he had to know would take all her efforts to match, Jagr headed directly toward Tane’s lair, his expression bleak in the silver moonlight.



She snapped her lips together and grimly kept pace. Let him pout for now. Once they reached the lair…



Well, she wasn’t exactly sure what she intended to do, but it was going to include shaking some sense into that thick skull.



And maybe ripping that shirt off his wide chest, and licking her way down…



Allowing the fantasy to fill her mind, Regan ran through the dark fields, managing not to falter despite Jagr’s punishing pace.



Unfortunately, she was so lost in the erotic imaginings that she was unprepared when Jagr came to an abrupt halt just as they reached the crumbling building that marked Tane’s lair.



“Shit.”



Ramming into his back was like running face-first into a brick wall, and rubbing her injured nose, she glared at her aggravating companion.



“What is it?”



Tilting back his head, his expression hardened. “Styx.”



“Oh.” Damn. She’d forgotten her frantic conversation with the King of Vampires. “I called and asked him to come.”



His head snapped round to regard her with a shocked frown. “You called?”



“I was worried.”



As swiftly as the shock had appeared, it was being replaced by an expression of resignation.



“Of course.” His lips twisted in a humorless smile. “A good choice. There are no warriors more powerful than the Anasso. You will be safe in his care.”



Her mouth fell open as she realized he assumed she called for Styx as some kind of replacement vampire when Jagr had been captured.



Before she could halt the impulse, she moved forward to punch him squarely in the chest. A wasted effort. The damned man didn’t even flinch.



“I didn’t call him to be in his damned care.” She shook her hand. Crap, she’d almost broken her fingers. “Hell, I’ve done everything possible to avoid that fate.”



“Then why?”



“Because I would have done anything…” She was forced to halt and clear the lump from her throat. “Anything to find you.”



The blue eyes briefly darkened at her soft confession, but before he could speak, a large form detached from the shadows of the looming building.



“Jagr. Sister-mate.”



Wanting to scream with frustration, Regan turned to cast an impatient glance at the unwelcome intruder.



Only to freeze in shock.



Holy shit.



As big as, or even bigger than Jagr, the vampire possessed the features of an ancient Aztec, with raven black hair pulled into a braid that hung well past his waist and golden brown eyes that seemed to sear right through her.



But it was more than his stark beauty and the way his leather pants and loose silk shirt caressed his heavily muscled body that made her instinctively step toward Jagr.



His power was a thick, tangible presence in the air, prickling over her skin with a near painful intensity.



Christ, her sister must have nerves of steel to bind herself to the dangerous demon.



At her side, Jagr offered a stiff bow. “My lord.”



That unnerving golden gaze shifted to run a searching path over Jagr’s stiff form, narrowing as he caught sight of the vampire’s brittle expression.



“I am pleased to discover you unharmed, if not unscathed, brother,” the Anasso rumbled, a hint of question in his deep voice.