“For now.”
“There’s no need for you to be alone, you know. Viper called earlier with an invitation for you to join him and Shay. And, of course, you are always welcome here.”
Jagr narrowed his gaze at the low, almost commanding tone. Why the hell would Styx care where he stayed? God knew he’d been left alone in his lair for years without…
Comprehension struck like a bolt of lightning, and Jagr stiffened in humiliation.
“Ah, Regan told you about my bout of madness,” he gritted. “Are you afraid I might ravage Chicago?”
Styx allowed a hint of his power to flow over Jagr, the prickle of energy a painful reminder of the Anasso’s strength.
“If I feared you were mad then you would be locked in a cell, not sipping my finest brandy in the lair I share with my mate.” As swiftly as the punishment began, it came to a halt, and Styx reached out to lay a hand on Jagr’s shoulder. “My only concern is for your happiness, my brother.”
Jagr gave a shake of his head, spinning away from the disturbing compassion etched on the vampire’s face.
Dammit. Just a few weeks ago he’d been a nearly forgotten vampire living beneath the streets of Chicago. An eccentric loner who possessed the nasty sort of reputation to keep others away.
And that was exactly how he had liked it.
Then without warning, he’d been dragged kicking and screaming back into a world filled with clan brothers, vampire politics, and a beautiful Were that had breathed life back into his frozen soul.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to stick a stake in Styx’s heart, or fall to his knees and bless him.
Maybe both.
“I need…distance,” he at last admitted.
“From Regan?”
“Yes.”
There was a long silence, then Styx moved to take his seat behind the desk.
“You could leave Chicago if you want,” he said smoothly.
“Not without fighting every clan chief whose territory I enter. That’s why I approached Viper in the first place.”
“As one of my Ravens, you could travel the world without fear of being challenged by other vampires.”
Jagr jerked around, meeting Styx’s steady gaze with an undisguised shock.
Holy hell. He hadn’t seen that coming.
“A Raven?”
Styx leaned back in the chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he studied Jagr.
“It’s rare that I find a warrior of your skill and loyalty. When I do, I’m smart enough to insist upon their service.”
“Loyalty?” Jagr shook his head, wondering if the man was suffering from dementia. What else could possess the usually intelligent vampire to make such a dangerous offer? “In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t follow orders.”
“Loyalty is different from blind obedience,” Styx countered. “I often send out my Ravens on delicate tasks. I need soldiers who can think for themselves and make decisions when they can’t contact me.”
Jagr snorted. “I’m about as delicate as a war hammer.”
“Sometimes a mission takes a rapier, and sometimes it takes a war hammer.” Styx tapped his fingers on the glossy surface of the desk. “It’s my job to determine which weapon is needed.”
“And my bouts of madness?” he demanded. “They are rare, but…”
“They are no more than any other demon battles, including myself,” Styx overrode his argument.
Jagr shook his head.
A Raven.
A part of him wanted to laugh at the sheer absurdity.
He was a half-feral vampire who had devoted his first centuries to hating those who’d tortured him, and the last few centuries hating the beast he’d become.
Now, the King of Vampires was offering him a position of highest respect among the demon-world.
Talk about irony.
But another part of him, the part he’d kept closed off until Regan had smashed into his life, was strangely tempted by the offer.
He’d always depended on his studies to give him a sense of purpose. The gaining of knowledge was not only fascinating, but it was as lethal a weapon as his sword or daggers.
Besides, there was a quiet peace to be found in his vast library. And of course, the bonus of knowing his books weren’t going to try to kill him.
Now, however, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was time he put an end to his self-imposed exile.
Without undue vanity, he knew he was one of the most powerful vampires to walk the earth. And his vast studies gave him insights into both the human and demon-world that few others could claim.
Skills that would serve the Anasso well.
More importantly, becoming a Raven might offer an opportunity to devote his mind to something other than mourning the absence of his mate.
As if sensing his conflicting emotions, Styx rose from his seat and rounded the desk to stand directly in front of Jagr.
“Don’t answer now. Take your time to consider the offer,” he commanded. “It will always be there.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Jagr offered a dip of his head. “I should go.”
“Of course, you must be anxious to return to your lair.” Waiting until Jagr had reached the door, Styx cleared his throat. “Be warned that Viper will be intruding into your privacy, along with Dante and Cezar.”
Jagr glanced over his shoulder with a frown. “Why?”
Styx shrugged. “Because they’re meddlesome mother hens.”
“Great.”
Knowing the Anasso would do nothing to save him from the impending interference of his brothers, Jagr stepped out of the office, instantly hit with the potent scent of jasmine.
On cue, his fangs lengthened and his muscles clenched in desperate, clawing need.
Shit.
He had to get out of there.
Regan knew the minute that Jagr entered the house.
Amazing considering that she’d been verging on sleep miles away (or at least it seemed like miles), in a bedroom at the far wing of the mansion.
Or maybe not so amazing, she wryly acknowledged as she yanked on a pair of faded jeans and a yellow T-shirt.
After all, it wasn’t the sound of his voice or his erotic scent that had jerked her from her light slumber. No, it had been the cool wash of power that had filled the entire mansion that had her hastily dressing and hurrying through the silent hallways.
It had to be Jagr.
Regan rushed down the long flight of stairs, only to discover that Jagr had disappeared into Styx’s private office. With a muttered curse, she plopped down on the last step, prepared to wait the entire night if necessary.
Why she was prepared wait was a question that should have troubled her.
Thankfully, she was developing a fine talent for self-deception, and telling herself that she was simply anxious to know if he discovered anything about her missing sister, she gnawed on her thumbnail and pretended her heart wasn’t lodged somewhere in her throat.
Her abused nail was nearly gone by the time the door to the office at last opened and Jagr stepped from the room. Hidden by the carved oak banister, Regan felt as if the wind had been kicked from her.
Christ, did he have to be so damned beautiful?
Struggling to breathe, Regan allowed her gaze to drink in the pale, starkly carved features and golden hair that was pulled into a long braid.
Beautiful, but so terrifyingly dangerous.
In more ways than one.
Lost in the painful tangle of emotions, it took a moment for Regan to realize that Jagr was headed directly toward the back entrance.
Why, the annoying jerk.
He had to know she was just behind him.
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.”