He held out a slender hand. “Come with me, and I’ll show you.”
Did she have stupid tattooed on her forehead?
Regan attempted to inch around the cur, plagued by a desperate need to reach Jagr.
“What do you want with me?”
“Nothing more than to keep you safe.”
“Safe? You tried to shoot me in that hotel room, not to mention nearly roasting me alive just a minute ago.”
“We were trying to kill the vampire in that hotel room, not you. We thought he was attacking you.” His gaze slowly roamed down her body, his arrogant expression revealing he believed women enjoyed being checked over like used cars. Schmuck. “Weres and vampires don’t usually mix.”
“And tonight?” she demanded.
“I had no idea anyone was in the RV. I was sent to get rid of it, not to harm you.”
Regan stiffened. She’d assumed that they had been followed by the cur to this remote spot. But if he was telling the truth, then he’d known about the RV.
And Culligan.
“Who sent you?” she hissed. “Culligan?”
The man snorted. “Don’t be daft. As if I would take orders from a filthy imp.”
“But you know where he is?”
He confidently stepped closer, his voice low and seductive. “Not only do I know, but I have him all tied up like a birthday present, just waiting for you to come and punish him.”
Regan’s thoughts churned. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell of her actually going with the cur. Her every instinct shrieked in warning. Besides, she wouldn’t leave Jagr. (Why she felt the need to protect an ancient vampire who was currently holding her hostage, not to mention driving her nuts, was something she wasn’t about to consider.)
But if she could keep him talking, then he might give some clue as to where he was hiding Culligan…and why the hell he wanted to get his hands on her.
“How do you know Culligan?” she asked.
The cur shrugged. “Never met him before he arrived in Hannibal.”
“Christ, is there a demon who comes through town who you don’t try to kill?”
“We didn’t try to kill the imp.” The man stepped closer, as if hoping his potent heat would befuddle her mind. “It was a simple snatch and grab.”
She continued inching toward Jagr. Her heart twisted. Why wouldn’t he wake up? He would poof if he was dead, wouldn’t he?
“Hardly simple,” she accused. “Culligan didn’t go willingly.”
His lips curled into a snarl. “There might have been some blood involved.”
“Why take him at all?”
“Beyond the pleasure of listening to him squeal?” The cur chuckled. “We discovered that he’d held a fellow wolf captive. That can’t go unpunished.”
He was lying. Regan had never been so certain of anything in her life.
“Fantastic. Where the hell were you when I actually needed your help?” she mocked, still circling the dangerous cur.
Suddenly, she was close enough to sense Jagr’s power, though it was faint. Sheer relief crashed through her.
He was still alive.