spent the past thirty years being brutally taught that she could depend on no one but herself. Trust no one. Now her prickly independence resented the mere hint that someone else might fight her battles.
Just as she resented the thought she possessed a sister and pack who cared for her.
“We’ll see,” he murmured, turning to grab two armfuls of clothes off the rack. “This should do.”
As he’d hoped, Regan was instantly distracted. He wasn’t a particularly perceptive vampire. Unlike Viper, he couldn’t sense other’s most intimate thoughts. But not even an idiot could miss her covetous expression or longing sighs as she had searched through the racks.
She wanted the clothes, she would have them.
“I can’t take all that,” she protested.
“Then I will.”
Without missing a beat, Jagr searched until he found the large bags stashed behind the counter and filled them with his bounty. He even included several bras and panties that were piled in a large bin, refusing to consider what the bits of lace of would look like against her ivory skin.
Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a wad of cash and tossed it near the register, then headed out the door and into the dark street.
He knew better than to ask, or worse yet, demand that Regan accompany him. She needed to feel as if she were in control. He was willing to give her a sense of freedom so long as she didn’t put herself in danger.
There was a tense pause before he heard Regan’s soft curse, and soon she was hurrying to match his long strides.
“Why did you leave money?” she demanded. “You have a moral issue with stealing?”
Jagr allowed his powers to flow through the dark street, searching for any hint of danger.
“No, just a dislike for attracting unwanted attention. I left enough money to keep the owner from calling the cops and risk losing her sudden windfall.”
“Now where are we going?”
“A shower.”
Confident there was nothing more threatening than the usual humans and a few water sprites that sang their siren song from the river, Jagr turned the corner and headed toward the main highway that cut through town.
Despite his swift pace, Regan easily kept at his side, her gaze warily searching the shadows, her body tense, ready for any unexpected attack.
Jagr should have been pleased. The woman was obviously smart enough to keep up her guard, despite the seeming lack of danger.
But he wasn’t pleased.
In fact, he was downright pissy. As if some latent, primitive part of his nature was offended she would question his right and ability to keep her safe.
Alarm trickled down his spine like ice, but Jagr grimly ignored the warning. Regan had been setting off alarms since he first caught sight of her. Instead, he slowed before the cheap chain motel with the blinking vacancy sign.
Regan frowned as he headed toward the far end of the building. “What are we doing here?”
“This is the nearest shower.”
“We’re checking into a hotel?”
“Tonight I prefer to skip the paperwork. The desk clerk is no doubt busy sharpening his skills at Guitar Hero.”
“Christ, what is it with you?”
“What?”
She regarded him with a sour expression. “One minute you sound like you just crawled out of a medieval crypt and the next, you sound like you’re a full-fledged member of Gen X.”
He shrugged, hiding his smile at her fierce need to keep him at a distance. And people called him antisocial.
“I watch TV.”
“Let me guess. You’re addicted to Dexter .”
“Actually I prefer Gossip Girl .”
Her jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
He moved toward the last door. “This one’s empty.” Placing his hand against the door, Jagr waited until he heard the click of the lock and pressed it open. Standing aside, he waited for Regan to march past him, her head high, her spine stiff.
Shutting the door, he held the bags toward the wary woman.
“Don’t turn on the light until you’ve closed the
Just as she resented the thought she possessed a sister and pack who cared for her.
“We’ll see,” he murmured, turning to grab two armfuls of clothes off the rack. “This should do.”
As he’d hoped, Regan was instantly distracted. He wasn’t a particularly perceptive vampire. Unlike Viper, he couldn’t sense other’s most intimate thoughts. But not even an idiot could miss her covetous expression or longing sighs as she had searched through the racks.
She wanted the clothes, she would have them.
“I can’t take all that,” she protested.
“Then I will.”
Without missing a beat, Jagr searched until he found the large bags stashed behind the counter and filled them with his bounty. He even included several bras and panties that were piled in a large bin, refusing to consider what the bits of lace of would look like against her ivory skin.
Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a wad of cash and tossed it near the register, then headed out the door and into the dark street.
He knew better than to ask, or worse yet, demand that Regan accompany him. She needed to feel as if she were in control. He was willing to give her a sense of freedom so long as she didn’t put herself in danger.
There was a tense pause before he heard Regan’s soft curse, and soon she was hurrying to match his long strides.
“Why did you leave money?” she demanded. “You have a moral issue with stealing?”
Jagr allowed his powers to flow through the dark street, searching for any hint of danger.
“No, just a dislike for attracting unwanted attention. I left enough money to keep the owner from calling the cops and risk losing her sudden windfall.”
“Now where are we going?”
“A shower.”
Confident there was nothing more threatening than the usual humans and a few water sprites that sang their siren song from the river, Jagr turned the corner and headed toward the main highway that cut through town.
Despite his swift pace, Regan easily kept at his side, her gaze warily searching the shadows, her body tense, ready for any unexpected attack.
Jagr should have been pleased. The woman was obviously smart enough to keep up her guard, despite the seeming lack of danger.
But he wasn’t pleased.
In fact, he was downright pissy. As if some latent, primitive part of his nature was offended she would question his right and ability to keep her safe.
Alarm trickled down his spine like ice, but Jagr grimly ignored the warning. Regan had been setting off alarms since he first caught sight of her. Instead, he slowed before the cheap chain motel with the blinking vacancy sign.
Regan frowned as he headed toward the far end of the building. “What are we doing here?”
“This is the nearest shower.”
“We’re checking into a hotel?”
“Tonight I prefer to skip the paperwork. The desk clerk is no doubt busy sharpening his skills at Guitar Hero.”
“Christ, what is it with you?”
“What?”
She regarded him with a sour expression. “One minute you sound like you just crawled out of a medieval crypt and the next, you sound like you’re a full-fledged member of Gen X.”
He shrugged, hiding his smile at her fierce need to keep him at a distance. And people called him antisocial.
“I watch TV.”
“Let me guess. You’re addicted to Dexter .”
“Actually I prefer Gossip Girl .”
Her jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
He moved toward the last door. “This one’s empty.” Placing his hand against the door, Jagr waited until he heard the click of the lock and pressed it open. Standing aside, he waited for Regan to march past him, her head high, her spine stiff.
Shutting the door, he held the bags toward the wary woman.
“Don’t turn on the light until you’ve closed the
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