Darkness Unleashed (Guardians of Eternity #5)(57)

Giving up on his tie, the imp threw his hands in the air. “Fine. I did hear about Culligan in the chat rooms like I said, but I didn’t send the message because I thought he could pay me. The worthless slug never did have the talent or intelligence to earn more than a few bucks. Even when he was handed a windfall like you.”

Jagr’s powers whipped painfully around the imp, making the short strands of his hair stand upright.

“So, why?”

Gaynor shivered. “A week ago a cur came into the tea shop and asked for me to invite Culligan to Hannibal.”

Jagr beat her to the obvious question. “Who was this cur?”

“She called herself Sadie.” His lips curled. “Damn, she was hot. Tall and dark with the kind of body that makes a man think about whips and chains. Very tasty.”

Regan frowned. She’d assumed the cur would be Duncan or perhaps the mysterious Caine. Who the hell was this Sadie?

“Had you ever seen her before?”

“No, and she wasn’t a woman a man would forget. Not ever.” A leer touched the imp’s too-pretty features. “Maybe her rack was a bit small, but…” His disgusting words were cut short as Regan threw a rock at him with enough force to snap his head back. He glared at her as he raised a hand to the bleeding lump on his forehead. “Shit.”

“My suggestion would be to stop digging your own grave, imp,” Jagr said dryly.

“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.