Darkness Unleashed (Guardians of Eternity #5)(91)

“She’s healing?” he demanded, softly.

“Slowly.”

The harsh expression promised dire retribution on the curs who had dared to hurt Regan.

“So much silver was bound to make her recovery more difficult.” His attention shifted to Jagr. “You could speed the process.”

Jagr tensed. The urge to share his blood with his mate was a vicious force. The means to heal her flowed through his veins, but because of the barriers she’d placed between them, he was unable to share his gift.

“No.”

Styx arched a brow at his sharp refusal. “She’s refused your blood?”

“She’s refused me as her mate.” His icy tone didn’t hide the savage pain. “I won’t force any deeper connection.”

Styx grimaced, realizing that Jagr couldn’t share his blood without completing his half of the mating process.

“Of course.”

Tucking the blanket around Regan’s slender body, Jagr slid from the bed, careful not to disturb his sleeping beauty.

As much as he disliked giving up the rare opportunity to hold Regan without protest, Jagr had a few questions he intended to get answered.

Crossing the room, he stood directly before his king, his arms folded across his chest.

“Why did you send me to Hannibal, my lord?”

Styx met his accusing gaze with a bland smile. “Obviously to rescue my sister-mate. Which reminds me that I have yet to thank you for your services. You have only to name your price…”

“You have a half dozen Ravens who are the finest vampire warriors ever born,” Jagr interrupted, in no mood for games. “Why did you send me?”

“Like me, the Ravens have spent the past centuries hidden from society while protecting the previous Anasso. They are still struggling to learn the skills necessary to pass among the humans, including the latest technology.” His smile widened with genuine amusement. “You should watch them try to use the remote control. You, on the other hand, have made a study of this era.”

Jagr stiffened. He’d never shared his fascination with the MTV generation, and he sure as hell hadn’t announced his occasional forays into the human population.

“How did you know?”

“Viper keeps a close eye on his clan.” Styx shrugged. “Very little escapes his notice.”

Keeping a close eye sounded way too much like spying for Jagr’s peace of mind.

“I didn’t realize that becoming a part of a clan included losing any right to privacy.”

“Viper can be a bit overzealous in his attempts to protect his brothers.”

Jagr snorted. “Meddling mother hen.”

“At least you know he cares.”

“He could care without sticking his nose in my business.”

Styx flashed his rare smile, revealing fangs that could rip through steel.

“Perhaps, but it would not be nearly so much fun.”

Jagr narrowed his eyes at the deliberate goading, then with effort, he gave a shake of his head.

“No, I will not be distracted,” he warned. “Tell me the truth of why I was sent to Hannibal.”

Styx silently toyed with the medallion that hung about his neck, debating just how much he was willing to share.

“It was in part because of your comfort in moving among humans, as well as your skills as a warrior,” he said, at last.

“And the other part?”

“I knew that you were the one person who would be able to sympathize with what Regan had endured.”

Jagr flinched. “Because I’ve been tortured?”

“Yes,” Styx admitted without apology. “You better than anyone could understand the damage that was done during her years of captivity, and offer patience while she struggled to come to terms with her newfound freedom.” The ancient vampire grimaced. “Although I’ll admit I didn’t anticipate quite so much patience.”

Annoyance at having been needed not for his strength, but for his weakness, stirred Jagr’s temper, adding a sudden chill to the air.

“I beg your pardon?”

Styx blandly ignored the danger prickling in the air. “I assumed you would be eager to be done with your task, and bring Regan directly to Chicago. I didn’t consider the possibility that you would actually encourage her dangerous lust for vengeance.”

“I didn’t encourage her,” Jagr snapped.

“No?”

The air dropped another ten degrees. “She’s young, but she’s capable of making her own decisions. In fact, she insists on it.”

Styx grunted, his expression rueful. “That I believe. Any relation of Darcy is bound to have a mind of her own, and a stubborn streak a mile wide.”

“Stubborn?” Jagr glanced toward the fragile woman curled on the bed. “She’s as obstinate as an emula demon, with the temper of a hellhound.”

“Even more reason to return her to her family,” Styx pointed out.

Jagr snapped his brows together. Damned if he would be chastised as if he were a fledgling demon. He’d done what he thought best for Regan, and he wouldn’t change a thing.

“If you wanted me to treat her as my prisoner, then you should have told me,” he said coldly. “As I recall, I was warned to treat her with kid gloves.”