Darkness Unleashed
Page 9
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.
“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.
