Darkness Unleashed (Guardians of Eternity #5)(86)

Jagr’s gaze searched the dark garden, his instincts tingling with an unmistakable warning.

“That doesn’t mean they aren’t prowling around,” he growled. “Those damn amulets make it impossible to be certain.”

Styx frowned. “We should make a quick sweep of the house.”

“You go.” Jagr continued his wary survey. “We’ll stay here.”

“Jagr…”

He placed a finger over Regan’s lips to halt her protest. “No, Regan, this has nothing to do with protecting you.”

Styx stepped closer. “What is it?”

“Nothing I can put my finger on. I just think we should keep guard.”

The ancient vampire nodded, not questioning Jagr’s vague unease.

“I trust your instincts, my brother. I will not be long.”

Chapter 19

Regan watched as the very large, very scary Styx disappeared through the French doors before turning to study Jagr with a frown.

She felt strangely numb as the smell of death and violence wrapped around her.

Maybe not surprising after the last few days.

There was only so much a woman, even one accustomed to demon brutality, could bear without going into emotional overload.

That didn’t mean, however, she was oblivious to the danger that continued to haunt her.

She had only to glance at Jagr’s tight expression to be reminded.

“What do you sense?” she whispered.

“We’re being watched.” Without even glancing in her direction (a seeming trend this evening), Jagr tugged two daggers from his boots and handed her one. “Here.”

Gingerly taking the dagger, she grimaced at the long, lethally sharp blade.

“Silver?”

“Yes. Try not to stick yourself.”

“I know where I’d like to stick it.”

Expecting a sharp response, Regan was caught off guard as Jagr slowly turned, his expression somber.

“Are we destined to be enemies, little one?”

She floundered at the soft, but inexorable question.

Christ, this vampire tied her knots. Why couldn’t he just let her panic and drive him away with her volatile, completely irrational behavior?

It’s what any decent demon would do.

Instead, he stood there staring at her with that icily guarded expression that she knew hid just how much her answer meant to him.

“No,” she at last whispered, unable to deliver the final, unalterable blow. “I don’t want to be your enemy, Jagr. I seem to have enough of them already.”

Lifting a hand, he gently cupped her face. “Regan…”

She had no idea what he was about to say, nor was she destined to discover, as Jagr abruptly turned toward the house, his body stiff with tension.

“Jagr, what is it?”

“A trap,” he rasped, charging toward the French doors with a near blinding speed. “Styx.”

Momentarily stunned, Regan watched as Jagr disappeared into the tea shop. What the hell? Regan stepped forward, intent on following Jagr, when there was an audible click, followed instantly by the sound of an explosion that made the earth shake beneath her feet.

The world seemed stuck in slow motion as Regan watched in horror while the flames and smoke billowed through the house. Then without warning, the concussion hit, sending her flying backward as the house shattered from the force of the blast.

Jagr.

Stark panic clawed through her, but she was helpless as she was tossed like a piece of trash through the air, at last crashing into an oak tree with enough force to briefly knock her unconscious.

The blackness came and went with a blazing flare of pain, but Regan ignored the dizziness and urge to toss up what little remained in her stomach. She didn’t have time to be sick. Jagr had been in the house. She had to reach him, and by God, if he’d let himself be killed, she was going to…

“Alone at last, bitch.”

Consumed with her desperate fear, Regan was completely unprepared for the tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed woman who dropped from the branches of the tree to stand directly in her path.

Stumbling to a halt, Regan gritted her teeth as her gaze swept over the stranger, absently grimacing at the leather bustier and pants that matched the high-heeled boots. It wasn’t the Sluts-R-Us outfit, however, that caught and held her attention. Instead it was the hard, perfectly toned muscles that revealed this woman wasn’t just a local stripper on her way home from a hard night.

That, and the complete absence of scent.

“Sadie,” she breathed, her gut twisting with fury.

This woman was behind luring Regan to Hannibal, behind Gaynor imprisoning Jagr, and now behind an explosion that might very well have killed her vampire.

She was going to cut her heart right out of her freaking chest.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” the woman taunted, clearly unaware that she was already dead. “What? No snappy banter? I knew you were bound to be a disappointment.”

Regan slowly began to circle the cur. During her unexpected flight, she’d dropped the dagger that Jagr had given her. Go figure. And while her instincts howled for an opportunity to rip out her heart, she wasn’t stupid.

Now was not the time to take chances. Not when Jagr needed her.

“I don’t need snappy banter to kill you,” she drawled, hoping to keep the woman distracted.