Startled by the unexpected sound, Levet jerked his head to discover a woman swimming in the powerful waters of the river, her pure white skin, slanted blue eyes, and pale green hair revealing she was something other than human.
Water sprite.
And one that he’d encountered before.
Cursing the hideous luck than had crossed his path with Bella, the-pain-in-the-ass sprite, Levet attempted to ignore the flighty fey.
“Hey. Hey, you.” Swimming closer to the shore, she waved an arm, as if he were too stupid to notice a water sprite bobbing a stone’s throw from him. “Over here. Psst.”
“Stop pssting me,” he growled, continuing his path along the edge of the river.
“I know you.”
“Non, you do not,” he denied.
“I do. You’re Levet, the stunted gargoyle.”
He halted at the insult, spinning to point a gnarled claw at the stupid pest. “I am not stunted. I am vertically challenged.”
She batted her long lashes, her beauty near breathtaking in the silver moonlight. Of course, it was that beauty that had been leading sailors to their doom since the beginning of time.
Levet had learned his lesson when the sprite had crawled through his portal when he’d been attempting to save Viper and Shay from the previous Anasso who’d gone completely nuts.
“I made you big before, when you fought that icky vampire,” she whispered, reminding him of the pleasure he’d felt in commanding the stature that most of his brethren took for granted. Mon Dieu. It had been such a lovely thing. “Do you want me to make you big again?”
“I didn’t summon you. Go away.”
“I’m bored.”
“Then go pester the fishes.” He puffed out his chest. “I am on important business.”
“What kind of business would a miniature gargoyle have? Are you hunting leprechauns?” she mocked, her laughter tinkling through the night air. “Oh, I know, I know. You’re hunting hobbits.”
“Very amusing…not.” Clenching his claws, Levet resumed his trek through the mud. “I happen to be hunting a very dangerous, very cunning imp.”
“Imp?” She kept pace with his angry stride. “There’s no imp around here.”
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
Levet threw his hands in the air. “I smell him, you annoying creature.”
“The only thing that’s gone past here besides a raccoon was a cur.”
“A cur.” Levet halted in shock. “You are certain?”
Pleased to have his full attention, Bella ran a tempting hand through her hair. “I know a dog when I see one. He was far more handsome than you, but covered in blood.” She grimaced. “Bleck.”
A cur covered in blood?
Had one of them been injured?
And why did they smell like an imp…
Levet smacked his forehead with his clenched claw.
“Sacrebleu.” Smack, smack. “I have been such a fool.”
“Well, your brain isn’t very big,” Bella sympathized.
Lifting his head, Levet glared at the water sprite. “One more word out of you and I’m turning you into a carp.”
“Why do you want a stupid imp?” she pouted, blithely ignoring his threat. “They’re nasty, tricky beasts. Sprites are much more fun. Don’t you remember how you liked me rubbing your wings? Summon me and I’ll make you the happiest gargoyle in the world.”
“Enough, you make my head hurt,” Levet snapped.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t tempted. Bella was lovely, and he was a healthy male who liked having his wings stroked as well as the next gargoyle. Still, he understood the dangers of playing with the fey.
They always ended up being more trouble than they were worth.
Squaring his shoulders, Levet concentrated on the fading scent of plums. The damned cur may have tricked him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use the situation to his advantage.
“Wait.” Breaking into his concentration, Bella swam closer to the shore. “Where are you going?”
He muttered a curse at the interruption. “I have a cur to capture.”
“I can help.”
“Bah.”
“I know where the imp is.”
Levet scowled. “How would you know?”
“I see things.”
“See things? What could you possibly see? You cannot be in this world unless you’re summoned…”
He stumbled to silence as his words sank through his thick skull. She couldn’t be here. Not unless she’d already been summoned.
She was nothing more than another bit of bait. Just like the scent of imp that had led him to this precise spot.
“Oh, shit,” he breathed, whirling just in time to watch the tall cur step from behind a tree.
His hands lifted to conjure a hasty spell, but the words didn’t have time to form before he was struck by a brilliant explosion.
The world went black.
Chapter 13
Regan shivered, absently rubbing her hands over her bare arms. The chill in the air had nothing to do with the brisk spring breeze and everything to do with the very large, very annoyed vampire stalking silently behind her.
Not that she was about to apologize.
She hadn’t asked for his interference, dammit. And she most certainly didn’t ask to be treated like a helpless bimbo who had to be tucked away in a safe lair while Jagr played superhero.
She was the one who Culligan had tormented and tortured for three decades. She was the one who had dreamed night after night of ripping out the imp’s throat. She was the one who’d tracked the bastard to Hannibal.
This was her fight, and by God, she was going to see it to the bitter end.
And her stubborn reaction to his protective instincts had nothing at all to do with the fear that the stunning pleasure she’d felt in Jagr’s arms had given him a power over her that was as ruthless and eternal as Jagr himself.
She shivered again.
Christ. She needed a distraction.
And a freaking jacket.
“What is this place?” she demanded, gazing around the wide stretch of open land that was surrounded by a handful of large, elegant homes. “A park?”
Quickening his pace to walk beside her rather than glowering from behind, Jagr deliberately pulled back his power, easing the chill in the air.
“A golf course,” he corrected.
“Ah.” Her lips twisted. No wonder she didn’t recognize the place. Culligan had never spent much time around the country club set. “That would explain the lack of teeter-totters.”