Darkness Unleashed by Alexandra Ivy

fork.
    Not that she wouldn’t have preferred an elegant mansion, complete with acres of marble and priceless works of art. She might be an animal at heart, but she lusted for the finer things in life. Just as she had when she was turning tricks in the nasty alleys of St. Louis nearly thirty years ago.
    That’s where she had first encountered Caine, the cur who had promised to make her a queen before he’d bit her and changed her world forever.
    She was still waiting on the whole queen thing, she acknowledged wryly, moving through the main room of the cabin shrouded in the gathering gloom. It offered nothing more than a ratty couch, two overstuffed chairs, and a stone fireplace. There wasn’t even a picture hung on the rough wooden walls.
    It was about as far away from the palace she dreamed of as the squalid boardinghouse she’d once shared with three other whores.
    But then, revolutions were rarely without sacrifice.
    Or blood, she was reminded as a hoarse scream reverberated from the attached shed.
    A small smile touched her thin, some would claim cruel, features. Not that many men minded the hint of malicious fire that burned deep inside her. Humans might be attracted to her pale, still-smooth skin that contrasted with her waist-length raven hair and smoldering black eyes, but curs were brought to their knees by the hard muscles of her slender body and air of coiled violence that promised sweet pain.
    Running her hands over the black leather pants that hung low on her hips and matched the barely-there halter top, Sadie was debating between returning to the shed and enjoying some quality torture with her captive, or going on the hunt, when a familiar scent had her rushing across the room.
    Jerking open the door, she frowned as the tall, slender cur stepped from the thick shadows of the trees.
    He was a tasty toy with dark hair he parted in the middle and allowed to brush past the line of his firm jaw. His eyes were indigo blue and surrounded by a tangle of thick lashes, and his features were carved with bad-boy perfection. An image only enhanced by his precisely trimmed goatee.
    Black Irish.
    Delectable.
    Tonight, however, her first thought was not mounting him like a mechanical bull. It was pure fury that he’d obviously failed at his mission.
    Stepping aside, Sadie waited for Duncan to enter the cabin before slamming the door and leaning against the wooden panels.
    Outside, half a dozen curs and her personal witch roamed the woods, keeping constant guard on the area. She could catch the occasional rustle of underbrush as they circled the cabin. None would intrude without her permission.
    “Where’s the bitch?” Sadie growled. She’d never been one for pleasantries. Why use a scalpel when a sledgehammer was so much more fun?
    With the familiarity of a longtime lover, Duncan strolled across the room to grab a bottle of whiskey from the mantel, taking a deep swig before turning to meet her glowing gaze.
    “There were…complications.”
    “Do I look like I give a shit about complications? I told you to bring me the Were.”
    Duncan grimaced. “She wasn’t alone.”
    Sadie hissed as she straightened from the door. “Salvatore followed her to Hannibal?”
    Another swig of the whiskey. “Worse. She had a vampire with her.”
    “What the hell would she be doing with a bloodsucker?”
    “Not just any bloodsucker.” Duncan’s sharp laugh ricocheted uneasily through the room. “I’d bet my ass it was the reclusive, legendary Jagr. I caught a glimpse of him once when I was in Chicago, but he’s not a demon you forget.”
    “Jagr? I thought he was a myth.”
    “Tooth fairies are a myth. Jagr is a force of nature that even other vampires fear.”
    Sadie stormed across the room, yanking the bottle of whiskey from Duncan’s hand and swallowing the remaining dregs.
    Perfect. Absolutely freaking perfect.
    It wasn’t bad enough that Regan had slipped from her grasp, now she was being protected by the Hannibal