Darkness Unleashed (Guardians of Eternity #5)(84)

Her lips twitched at the hint of irritation he couldn’t hide.

“Gaynor mentioned Sadie’s obsession with his peanut butter fudge. Once I had the scent, I searched until I ran across it again.”

“Peanut butter fudge?”

“It worked.”

He muttered an ancient curse. “And that’s where you found Culligan?”

“He was chained in the shed.” She shrugged, but it didn’t disguise the lingering revulsion. “When I questioned him, I learned that Gaynor’s portal was weak, and that you were probably being held close to where you disappeared. I decided to take his amulet and see if I could find you.”

Jagr bit back his harsh words. As furious as he might be, he’d rather cut out his tongue than cause Regan unnecessary distress.

“And Duncan?” he instead demanded.

“We stumbled over each other when I left the cabin.”

The thought of the cur not only attacking Regan, but actually holding her captive was enough to make his fangs lengthen and the room fill with a frigid burst of power.

Not bloodlust, just good old-fashioned fury any male would feel at his mate being harmed.

“He could have killed you.”

With an impatient click of her tongue, Regan moved to stand directly before him.

“One more word about me putting myself in danger and we’re done with this conversation, chief.”

Chief. Absurdly, the pet name helped to calm his temper. It reminded him that for all her protests, Regan wasn’t as emotionally detached as she wanted to be.

“Fine,” he grudgingly conceded. What was the point in arguing? Regan would do what she wanted. Always.

And in some twisted way, it was what he admired most about her.

Irony, indeed.

“Besides, it all worked out for the best,” she pointed out. “Now we can at least hope my sister can be rescued.”

Well, that was true enough. Jagr scrubbed his hands over his face, feeling weary despite his recent feeding of the cur.

A small part of him wished he’d managed to pack his bag and return to the sanctity of his lair. Every moment spent in Regan’s company was bound to deepen the sense of loss when she disappeared from his world.

But even as the cowardly thought flared through his mind, he was dismissing it.

So long as this beautiful Were had need of him, he would stand at her side.

Pitiful, but true.

With a restless shake of his head, Jagr headed toward the door to the outer rooms.

“We must share this information with Styx.”

“Jagr.”

Halting, he glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

She licked her lips, strangely uncertain. As if she struggled with some inner demon.

At last she gave a jerky shake of her head.

“Never mind.”

Jagr bit back his curse of impatience. He might not be the most perceptive vampire, but he did learn from his mistakes. And trying to press Regan would only make her dig in her heels deeper.

A knowledge that did nothing to ease his temper as he stormed from the rooms and went in search of his Anasso.

Following the unmistakable scent of power, Jagr moved through the surveillance rooms to a large library, complete with plasma TV. Not surprisingly, Styx was engrossed in a rare book on the history of the Huguenots rather than watching Cinemax. The ancient vampire had never possessed Jagr’s interest in the ever changing society, and it was only because he was determined to please his new mate that he wasn’t still living in a damp cavern without one modern convenience.

As Jagr stepped through the door, Styx was on his feet, his lifted brow revealing he was well aware of his companion’s tangled emotions, although he was smart enough not to comment.

Instead he listened in silence as Jagr revealed Duncan’s attempted negotiations with the Weres, and the cur’s promise he could reveal the location of Regan’s missing sister.

As he finished, Styx pulled a cell phone from his pocket and swiftly dialed Salvatore’s number.

Absently, Jagr listened to the short, tense argument, his body flaring with awareness as he felt Regan entering the room behind him.

He deliberately kept his gaze on Styx’s imposing form as she halted beside him, not that it mattered. She had only to be near for him to drown in her jasmine-scented presence.

With an audible snap, Styx closed his phone and stuffed it into the pocket of his leather pants. Perhaps not surprisingly, Regan took a step closer to Jagr.

Styx was overwhelming under the best of circumstances. With the scowl marring his stark features, and his massive body tense with annoyance, any creature not brain-dead would be wary.

Either unaware, or simply ignoring the prickles in the air, Styx lifted a hand to smooth over the raven hair he’d pulled into a braid that hung nearly to his knees.

Darcy was never going to drag the proud vampire fully into the twenty-first century.

“The meeting with Duncan is set for dawn,” Styx revealed, his voice hard. “He refused to offer the location.”

“Refused?” Jagr shook his head. “Arrogant dog.”

Styx grimaced. “He has proclaimed it Were business and I have no authority to interfere, although Darcy may have a different opinion when I tell her.”

“Good God, you actually listen to your mate’s opinion?” Regan demanded, her tone overly sweet.