Darkness Unleashed

Page 34


“She asked.”


Regan regarded the imp in disgust. “You sold out your friend because you thought the cur was hot?”


“No, I sold him out because the cur handed over a butt load of money.”


“Nice.”


“Hey, Culligan would have done the same in my position.”


Regan couldn’t argue with his logic. Culligan was an amoral, spineless turd who would sell his soul for a buck.


“Did the cur say what she wanted with him?”


“She said he’d failed in his duty to the curs, and that he needed to be punished.”


“That’s not all she said, is it?” Jagr abruptly insisted.


“She might have mentioned using him as bait.”


“To lure Regan to Hannibal?”


Gaynor flinched at the ice edging the vampire’s voice. “She didn’t say. I’m not precisely her confidant. More like her stooge.”


“Where is she?” Regan demanded.


“I don’t know, but it must be near the river.”


Jagr frowned. “Why do you say that?”


“I could smell it on her.”


Jagr’s frown deepened. “Her scent wasn’t masked?”


“Masked?” Gaynor widened his pale green eyes. “How does a cur mask her scent?”


Regan didn’t need to be a mind reader to know the imp was lying. Casting a covert glance toward Jagr, she held her tongue as he gave a faint shake of his head. For whatever reason, he didn’t want to challenge Gaynor.


“Did she come alone to meet you?” he instead asked.


“She came inside alone, but there were a half dozen curs surrounding the shop.” There was no pretense in the flash of anger that rippled over his face. “The dolts completely ruined my daffodils. Oh, and the bitch took off with an entire batch of my peanut butter fudge.”


Regan blinked. Okay, that was…weird.


“Why would she take your fudge?”


Gaynor stiffened, as if offended by the question. “Because it just happens to be the most famous fudge in the state. Perhaps in all of America.”


Jagr snorted. “And it’s hexed to compel the unwary to crave it like a drug.”


“You can’t prove that,” Gaynor hissed.


Regan glanced toward Jagr. “Can curs be hexed?”


“They’re more susceptible than pure demons,” he answered before turning back to the imp. “Has she been back for more?”


Gaynor shifted nervously closer to the bushes. Idiot. Did he actually think he could outrun a vampire?


“When I opened the shop two days ago, she was waiting for me,” he grudgingly confessed.


“For fudge?”


“For fudge, and to make another offer,” he said slowly.


Regan gave a lift of her brows. “An offer for what?”


There was an odd pause, then with a movement so swift that it caught both Jagr and Regan off guard, Gaynor knocked aside a pile of branches to reveal a shimmering, swirling mist that seemed to hang in the darkness.


Although Culligan had never had the power necessary to create a portal, Regan had witnessed other imps weave a doorway in thin air. She’d always been fascinated by the magical gateways when they’d been at a distance. She wasn’t nearly so delighted to have one close enough to tumble through.


“The offer is for you, Regan,” the imp admitted, reaching to grasp her arm.


More astonished than frightened, Regan felt herself being yanked toward the swirling portal. She instinctively struggled, but the imp was unexpectedly strong as he planted his feet and scooted backward, inching her closer and closer to the opening.


Intent on their private battle, neither heard the warning growl from the furious vampire, not until he was lunging forward.


“No,” he roared, shoving Gaynor with enough force that it wrenched Regan’s arm from his grasp.


It also tumbled both of them backward.


Straight into the waiting portal.


“Jagr.”


Crawling on her hands and knees, Regan watched in horror as Gaynor disappeared into the shimmering mist, still entangled with the furious vampire. Oh, God, no. She reached out, her fingertips brushing the tip of Jagr’s heavy boot just as the portal pulsed, flared, and then disappeared with an audible snap.


Suddenly alone in the darkness, Regan stared at the spot where Jagr had disappeared, as if stupidly waiting for him to jump out of thin air.


Christ. He was gone. He was really, really gone.


And she didn’t have a chance in hell of following him.


“Shit, shit, shit.”


Regan jumped to her feet, running through the night at full speed. Culligan had never shared the secrets of imp magic, but there had to be someone who knew how to trail a person through a portal.


Indifferent to the dangers that might lurk in the shadows, Regan returned to the truck still parked in front of the tea shop. Hopping into the driver’s seat, she switched on the key that Jagr had left in the ignition, and struggled to force it into gear.


She’d never actually driven before, but how hard could it be?


The thought had barely passed through her mind when she stomped on the long pedal that made the car go forward (at least it did on TV), and with a squeal of tires she slammed straight into one of the lovely dogwoods that lined the quiet street.


Well, crap…maybe it wasn’t as easy as she’d thought.


Turning off the engine, she tumbled out of the truck and sprinted between the nearest houses, heading directly north. Her head throbbed from where it had banged into the windshield and the neighborhood dogs were already howling at her presence, but at least she wasn’t in danger of massacring any more innocent trees.


Leaping a wooden fence, she briefly considered Jagr’s annoyance when he’d discovered she was running like a maniac through the streets without a care to any curs that might be lurking nearby. No doubt she’d have to listen to his furious lecture on her lack of brains if he…


A sharp pain ripped through her heart.


No, there were no ifs.


She would find him.


And he would be okay.


Nothing else was acceptable.


Refusing to contemplate the panic that churned through her stomach, Regan weaved her way through town. She caught the distant scent of a dew fairy and the even more distant scent of a hellhound prowling through a Dumpster, but nothing leaped out to eat her, so putting down her head, she called upon her considerable powers and plunged through the fields and meadows with a speed only a vampire could match.


The scenery was no more than a blur as she concentrated on retracing the path back to Tane’s isolated lair.


At last she could see the crumbling red brick chimney in the distance, and ignoring the growing stitch in her side, she dodged past an abandoned barn and leaped over a small creek.


It never occurred to Regan that she might not be welcomed at the vampire stronghold without Jagr at her side. At least not until Tane’s massive form abruptly vaulted from the second-storied balcony to block her path to the door.


Skidding to a halt, Regan barely avoided colliding into the very broad, very bare chest.


“Tane.” She pressed a hand to her thundering heart. “God, you scared me.”


Pinpricks of pain stabbed into her flesh as Tane allowed his power to be released into the night.


“Where’s Jagr?”


She was smart enough to feel a jolt of fear at the fierce expression on Tane’s beautiful face, but she was too concerned for Jagr to truly appreciate just how dangerous her position might be.


“He was taken through a portal by an imp,” she said in a rush, too rattled to spell out more than the most pertinent information. “I can’t find him.”


Thankfully, Tane didn’t press for details. It was enough to know a brother was in trouble.


His long, lethal fangs emerged, along with a dagger he pulled from the waistband of his khakis.


“Stay here. I’ll try to pick up his trail.”


“Wait, I want to go…”


Ignoring her urgent demand to be taken with him, Tane slid past her and silently disappeared into the dark.


Regan clenched her teeth, knowing she’d never catch him.


“Damned vampires.”


Briefly considering her limited options, Regan at last heaved a sigh and climbed the steps to the wide verandah.


She could return to the golf course and hope to stumble across a means to follow Jagr, but she wasn’t so full of herself to believe that she would have better luck than a trained vampire assassin, who no doubt had had several hundred years to perfect his skills. The painful truth was she would likely be more a burden than help.


There was also the option of simply walking away and washing her hands of Jagr and everyone else determined to force her into a family she didn’t want or need.


It wasn’t as if she owed them anything.


Okay, Jagr had come in handy a time or two. Hell, he’d just saved her from being pulled into the damned portal.


And no woman, no matter how innocent, could deny that he was a world-class lover who’d made her first experience one she would remember for all eternity.


Still, he was possessive and bossy and ruthlessly worming his way into her heart. That alone should be enough to send her screaming into flight.

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