Hell, he could probably close his eyes and hit her with a dart a hundred miles away.
Which meant that he was deliberately ignoring her.
And why wouldn’t he, a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind.
He was a proud, magnificent vampire who had offered her his heart. She, on the other hand, was a totally screwed-up Were who was running scared.
She wouldn’t blame him if he never wanted to see her again.
Of course, that didn’t stop her from charging after his retreating form.
Screwed up, indeed.
“Jagr, wait.”
He halted at her soft call, his shoulders stiff, as if he were battling the urge to keep walking.
Then, with obvious reluctance, he slowly turned to face her.
“Regan.” His expression was as coldly aloof as his voice. “How are you feeling?”
She sucked in an agonized breath. God, she would rather he hit her than treat her as if she were a vague stranger.
“I’m fine,” she managed to husk. “Did you just return from Hannibal?”
“Yes.”
Sharp. To the point.
Emotionless.
Regan licked her dry lips, her gut twisting with sick regret.
“Did you discover anything about my sister?”
“No, I’m sorry.” The pale eyes darkened with frustration. “Salvatore disappeared, along with Levet.”
“Damn.” Regan stiffened in shock, momentarily forgetting her own troubles. “Did Duncan betray them?”
“I doubt it. Duncan was dead when we found the cabin where they were supposed to meet.”
Regan pressed a hand to her heart. It was bad enough that the cur was dead, and the powerful Salvatore missing, but poor Levet…
Christ, she should never have insisted that he accompany Duncan to that damn meeting.
She couldn’t seem to do anything without messing it up lately.
The Mess-Up Queen.
She should have a tiara and sash.
“It has to be Caine,” she muttered.
“That’s our assumption.”
“That bastard needs to have his ass kicked.”
Jagr shrugged, his hard muscles rippling beneath the tight black T-shirt.
Oy. He was edible.
Her mouth went dry.
“I believe Styx intends to nail his hide to the wall.”
“That’ll work.”
“Tane’s on the trail. I’m sure he’ll let Styx know if he discovers anything.” With a stiff nod, Jagr turned back toward the door.
Let him go, let him go, let him go…
“Are you leaving?” The words bypassed her brain and burst from her lips.
Once again, he grudgingly halted and turned. “I have my own lair. Or at least I did.” Without warning, that almost smile touched his lips, making her heart kick against her ribs. “The rats may have taken over while I was gone.”
Tentatively she moved toward him, half-afraid he might disappear into the night if she pressed too hard.
“They wouldn’t dare.”
He arched a golden brow. “You’re obviously unfamiliar with the rats native to Chicago. They fear no demon.”
“Perhaps no demon, but every creature fears an oversized Visigoth chief.”
His gaze deliberately skimmed over her pale face, lingering on the dark shadows beneath her eyes.
“Not every creature.”
“Well, I’ve never been very smart. If I had a brain, I’d no doubt be terrified.”
The stunning blue gaze lowered to her lips, his jaw clenching, as if in pain.
“I should go.”
Her hand lifted to touch him, only to hastily drop when he took a sharp step back.
“Will you be back?”
“Not unless Styx commands my presence.”
She swallowed the thick lump in her throat. “Oh.”
There was a tense, awkward silence that made Regan want to ram her head into the wall.
Before tonight she’d felt a lot of things when Jagr was near.
Fury, frustration, searing passion, and heart-melting tenderness.
Never, ever awkwardness.
What the hell had she done?
Slowly his gaze lifted to tangle with hers. “Do you intend to remain here?”
“No. I…” She gave a helpless shrug, unable to explain the stupid panic that attacked her each time Darcy tried to draw her deeper into their cozy clan. “No.”
“Where will you go?”
For all her determination to leave, she’d given remarkably little thought to the tedious details.
“I can’t go far. At least not until I’ve found a job and saved some money.”
His brows snapped together. Regan found herself pathetically pleased by the first real display of emotion.
“There’s no need for you to work…”
“Darcy’s already offered me money,” she hurriedly headed off his offer.
“Which you refused.”
“I’m not just being stubborn, Jagr.”
“Did I say you were?” he snapped.
“You didn’t have to,” she ruefully teased. “It was written in neon across your face.”
His scowl remained firmly intact. “Highly doubtful.”
She sighed, running a restless hand through her hair. “I want to see if I can make my way in the world like a normal person. Is that so astonishing?”
The brief glimpse of emotion was wiped away. Replaced by a coating of ice.
“You’ll never be a normal person.”
“Fine, like a normal demon.” She clenched her hands, wishing she could make someone, anyone, understand. “I need to know I can do it.”
“Who are you trying to convince, Regan?” he demanded, softly. “Me? Or yourself?”
“I’m trying to explain…” She shook her head. “Never mind.”
The tightening of his jaw was Jagr’s only response as he turned on his heel.
“I must go.”
“Jagr.”
“Dammit, Regan, what do you want from me?” he hissed, keeping his back to her.
A good question.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have a damned clue.
She only knew that watching him walk away was ripping out her heart.
“I…I want to thank you.”
He stiffened, still refusing to turn. “Thank me?”
“If it hadn’t been for you, I would have walked straight into the trap that Sadie set for me.”
“Somehow I doubt you would have been so easily captured,” he said dryly.
Her lips twisted. Her pride might want to believe his words, but she’d had plenty of time to consider her rash flight to Hannibal.