“I did what was asked of me.” Culligan licked his lips, his voice rough from his hours of screaming. “I was told to keep the woman alive, and not to allow her to escape. No one warned me that the pissed-off King of Weres was searching for the bitch.”
“You were told what you needed to know.” Sadie sliced a shallow cut from the imp’s breastbone to his belly button, her ears singing from Culligan’s cries of pain. Such a pathetic wretch. He couldn’t even manage a proper hex, the simplest of imp magic. Still, he did make the loveliest sounds when he was being carved like a Thanksgiving turkey. “Did you think you could deal with the devil and not pay in blood?”
“What do you want from me?”
“For now, your pain will do. A pity I’ve been warned we might need you as bait. I can’t permanently damage you, but I’m creative enough to keep you in one piece.” With a smile she withdrew the dagger, only to plunge it back into his stomach, all the way to the hilt. “Well, perhaps not one piece, but a large enough piece to keep your heart beating.”
When he was done screaming, Culligan struggled to speak. “Bait? What does that mean?”
Reminded that the imp had not only lost the Were, but had dropped a butt-load of trouble in her lap, Sadie twisted the blade.
“You, my pet, have managed to make an enemy of both the vamps and Weres,” she hissed. “They would follow your scent to the gates of hell to have the pleasure of killing you.”
His head sagged, the hair falling forward like a crimson river. “What does anyone care about the stupid girl? She’s nothing but damaged goods. She can’t even shift, for Christ’s sake.”
“What an idiot you are, Culligan. The girl’s worth is beyond price. And you’d better hope your bumbling hasn’t endangered my master’s experiments, or you’re going to be praying the Weres get you first.”
“If she’s worth so much, then why did you sell her to me?”
Pulling out the dagger, Sadie placed the bloody tip beneath his chin and forced his face upward. She leaned forward until their noses were nearly touching.
“She’s…insurance.”
“Insurance for what?”
Sadie chuckled. “The ruling elite in the demon-world is about undergo a change in management, imp. A pity you won’t be around to enjoy the transformation.”
With a smooth thrust, the dagger slid through the soft under skin of Culligan’s chin, moving through flesh to pierce his tongue to the roof of his mouth.
The shriek of agony was muffled, but no less sweet.
The land south and west of Hannibal smoothed from high bluffs to rolling fields and heavily wooded acres. Squatting down to study the narrow dirt path, Jagr could hear the rustle of raccoons and opossums, as well as native deer. Precisely the wild game that would attract a pack of hungry curs.
Too bad there wasn’t a hint of cur in the air. Not a scent, not a track, not even a stray hair.
There was a rustle beside him and the scent of midnight jasmine teased at his senses.
Regan.
His jaw clenched as his body painfully reacted to her proximity.
Gods, he thought his days of torture were behind him. He’d slaughtered his enemies and retreated to the barricaded safety of his lair. His life was supposed to be one of peace and quiet contemplation.
Yeah…right.
There was nothing peaceful in the way his body burned for a Were who couldn’t decide if she wanted to rip off his clothes or stick a stake in his heart. Or in the knowledge he was risking a death sentence by ignoring Styx’s order to return Regan to Chicago so the revenge-crazed woman could kill her enemy. Or even in having his hard-earned distrust for others slowly, relentlessly undermined.
It was no wonder he was in the mood to bite something.
Or, more particularly, someone.
Smoothly rising to his feet, Jagr turned his head to study the female at his side.
As if by magic, his fury and frustration eased to a rueful resignation.
Perhaps Regan had cast a spell upon him. Or perhaps the brutal barriers he’d built around himself were simply no match for the powerful attraction that roared through him.
Whatever the case, he knew he wasn’t nearly as desperate to return to the dark solitude of his lair as he should be.
Shuffling her feet, Regan at last cleared her throat. Since leaving the cave, she’d grimly refused to utter a word. No doubt assuming her silence was some sort of punishment.
He hated to tell her that before the days of technology, he’d gone decades without a sound to disturb his studies. Besides, he’d known her silence wouldn’t last. She was not the type of woman who could keep her emotions bottled inside.
She was more a spit-in-your-face, kick-your-ass type of gal.
Just the way he liked them.
“Well?” she demanded.
Jagr hid a smile at her sharp tone. “This is where I lost the imp’s trail. What of you?”
She glanced around the empty field, her brow furrowed. “It was around here. Maybe closer to those trees.”
“Then that’s where we’ll begin our search.”
Before he could take a step, Regan had stubbornly folded her arms over her chest.
“This would go faster if we split up.”
He lifted his brows at the suggestion. “So I can waste the rest of the night chasing you down? I don’t think so. You stay at my side.”
“Christ.” Her eyes shimmered in the moonlight, not the glow of a Were on the point of shifting, but one of a pissed-off woman. Just as dangerous. “Wasn’t it enough that I was imprisoned for the past thirty years? Do I have to go from one hell to another?”
His eyes narrowed. “My only purpose is to keep you safe, Regan, not to imprison you.”
“Well, it feels remarkably the same.”
With a hiss, Jagr grabbed her arms and regarded her with a flare of anger. He would endure many things, but not being compared to a spineless coward who would harm a young female.
“Take care, little one.”
“Go to hell, big chief.”
Abruptly he dropped his hands and stepped back. Just the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingers was making his body clench with hunger.
“You want to be rid of me, then let me take you to Chicago,” he challenged with a cool control he was far from feeling. “You’ll never have to set eyes on me again.”
Her lips tightened as she absently rubbed her arms where he’d touched her.
“I’m not leaving until I’ve skinned Culligan and fed his heart to the fishes.”