Darkness Unleashed (Guardians of Eternity #5)(105)

Skidding to a halt, she regarded Regan with an impatient expression.

“Well?”

Regan gave a bemused shake of her head. “He wants to buy my etchings.”

“Woo hoo!” Indifferent to the curious gazes she was attracting, Tobi grabbed Regan and gave her a rib-crushing hug. “I knew it. Haven’t I been telling you that you’re a fabo artist, and that you were bound to be discovered?”

Gently disentangling herself so she could suck air into her collapsed lungs, Regan pulled her lips into a stiff smile.

“I’m not sure peddling art to tourists is being discovered, but I’ll admit you’ve always had a lot more faith than I did.”

“Because I know talent when I see it.”

Regan’s smile became genuine as she reached out to ruffle Tobi’s pink spikes of hair.

“You’ve been such a good friend to me, Tobi. If you hadn’t let me…”

“Blah, blah, blah.” The woman waved her hands in dismissal, then her eyes abruptly widened. “You know, you should go out and celebrate. Drink some bubbly, eat some chocolate, find some yummy stud to spend the night giving you mind-blowing sex.” She grimaced, waving her hand toward the bar. “I’d join you, but Carly’s a no-show yet again, and I have to close.”

That’s exactly what she should do.

Go out. Maybe hit the bars. Find some adorable hunk to…

Her mind shut down.

It simply refused to go where adorable hunks might lurk, even if it was only in her fantasy.

She heaved a sigh. “Actually, I think I’ll just go home and savor my stroke of fortune.”

Tobi threw her hands in the air, her silver bracelets rattling.

“Jeez, what am I going to do with you? You’re beautiful, intelligent, and sexy as hell, and if I weren’t such a nice person I’d hate your guts, but you don’t have a damn clue about enjoying yourself.” She tilted her head, her smile disappearing as she studied Regan with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “That apartment might as well be a prison, Regan. Go out. Live. You can’t be a hermit forever.”

Prison…

Regan winched at the repulsive word.

Because it was true.

Oh, it was nothing like her time with Culligan.

She could come and go as she pleased. She could wear what she wanted, eat what she wanted, and make her own decisions.

She had her independence. A home, a job, the promise of all the money she could possibly need.

But where was the glorious freedom she’d been seeking?

She worked, she sketched, she slept.

Not precisely the full-throated, guns-blazing sort of existence she’d dreamed about all those years behind bars.

She’d exchanged one prison for another.

And why?

Because every moment of every day she missed Jagr. Hell, she even missed Darcy and the terrifying Styx.

Lifting her hands, she rubbed her aching temples.

For so many years, she fantasized about escaping Culligan and being her own master. It was the only thing that had kept her sane.

And she held on to those fantasies like a drowning woman held onto a lifeline.

Even when a genuine, unmistakable chance at happiness was dangled right before her eyes.

Holy shit.

She really was a schmuck.

“Regan? Is there something wrong?”

Regan was jerked out of her painful thoughts. With a blink she focused on Tobi, not surprised to discover her friend staring at her with a worried expression.

She’d been standing there like a mindless zombie.

“Actually, I’m great.” Impulsively she leaned forward to kiss Tobi’s cheek. “And you’re right. What my night needs is a yummy stud.”

Tobi lifted her brows. “You sound like you know where to find one.”

“Not exactly, but I know where to start the search.”

With a newfound, glorious sense of purpose, Regan squared her shoulders and headed directly toward the front entrance. In a distant part of her mind she heard Tobi call her name, but she never faltered as she stepped out the door and into the dark street.

She’d made up her mind.

And for the first time, perhaps in her entire life, it felt absolutely, completely right.

Jogging down the street without her purse, without her keys to her apartment, or even her cell phone, Regan headed directly south. She didn’t know the precise location of Jagr’s lair, but Darcy had mentioned the neighborhood, so she at least had a general idea of where she was going.

Of course, a general idea in a city the size of Chicago still meant hours wasted zigzagging through dingy, trash-lined streets, not to mention teaching the occasional mugger the dangers of messing with a pureblood on a mission.

Just when she was beginning to wonder if Jagr had moved, or even left town, she caught the faint trace of cold power.

Slowing her rapid pace, Regan angled across the eerily empty street toward the abandoned warehouse.

Jagr was near.

Even if she couldn’t sense his presence, she would know by the fact there wasn’t so much as a mouse willing to stray near the place. No doubt it had something to do with the whole Night of the Living Dead vibe.

Perfect for keeping away unwanted guests.

Like her?

The dispiriting thought had barely passed through her mind when the temperature abruptly plunged, and a low, familiar voice floated on the air.