Darkness Unleashed (Guardians of Eternity #5)(9)

“Why you son of a…”

The crack of gunshots interrupted the angry tirade, the sound so unexpected that the bullets smashed though the window before Jagr was able to launch forward and force Regan to the floor. His teeth clenched in pain, his thoughts dark with fury.

He had protected the more delicate Were, but three of the bullets had lodged in his back, the fourth slicing through his arm to create a nasty gash.

Not life-threatening injuries, but they left him too weak to battle whoever was attacking them.

Shit.

If he survived this, Styx was going to kill him.

Chapter 2

Shocked by the sudden attack, not to mention the six-foot-plus vampire that had just landed on top of her, Regan struggled to clear the fog from her mind.

What the hell?

She knew enough to realize someone had shot through the window. And that Jagr had quite likely saved her from a nasty injury.

What she didn’t know was why.

It couldn’t have been Culligan. The few times the imp had tried to use a gun, he hadn’t been able to hit the broadside of a barn. Besides, if he’d come gunning for her, he would have brought a rocket launcher. The son of a bitch knew he had one chance, and one chance only, to kill her before she ripped out his throat.

Jagr’s groan jolted her out of her inane thoughts, and Regan wriggled from beneath his heavy body. He was too weak to protest, lying face-down on the carpet to reveal the brutal injuries that were even now oozing with a frightening amount of blood.

A flare of terror raced through her.

Jagr might be an annoying ass, but he’d just taken a number of bullets for her. She didn’t want the guilt of his wounds on her conscience.

Besides, whoever was shooting at them was probably still out there. Or else headed up to the room to finish them off.

She couldn’t just run off and leave the damned vamp to be murdered while he was injured. Which meant she needed him healed, and healed fast.

Struggling to recall what little she knew of vampires, she tensed at the sound of approaching footsteps, her heart stopping as the door to the room was suddenly thrown open.

Prepared for battle, Regan was caught off guard by the strange creature who waddled into the room. The thing possessed the grotesque features of a gargoyle—thick gray skin, reptilian eyes, horns, and cloven hooves. He even had a long tail that trailed behind him. But while Regan had never actually seen a gargoyle, she’d always presumed they were more than three feet tall, and that their wings were leather, not delicate bits of gossamer that were far too pretty for a ruthless savage.

Still, you didn’t have to be a nine-foot fire-breathing demon to pull a trigger. The miniature creature might very well be the one taking potshots at them.

“Get out,” she rasped, instinctively crawling to place herself between the intruder and the wounded Jagr.

Ignoring her command, the…thing moved forward to peer down at the vampire, and then, of all things, spoke with a lilting French accent.

“What happened, mon ami?”

Jagr groaned. “Damn Styx. If I live through this, I’m going to make him pay.”

Somewhat reassured that the two seemed to know one another, Regan frowned at the stranger.

“Who the hell are you?”

“A masterpiece of misery,” Jagr muttered, echoing her earlier words.

Shockingly, the creature blew a raspberry toward the vampire who could squash him without a thought.

“I am the demon who is about to save you and your Gothic friend’s ass,” he announced grandly. “Just lay there and bleed, Jagr, while I work my mojo.”

Regan watched Jagr’s eyes snap open with genuine horror, his hand reaching out to weakly grab at the creature. The tiny beast was too quick, and with a flick of his tail, he was hurrying to scramble onto the window ledge, his tiny arms outstretched.

“No.” Jagr moaned, and then without warning, his arm snaked around her waist and she found herself yanked down beside him. “Stay down.”

“What?” Regan glared at the vampire. “Dammit, Jagr, you’re hurt…” Her lecture was once again interrupted as a brilliant flash of light filled the room, swiftly followed by a deafening boom. “Christ,” she breathed, wondering if the Air Force had arrived and decided Hannibal needed bombing. “What the hell was that?”

She heard the patter of footsteps, and the gray creature returned to stand beside them.

“That was salvation, ma petite,” he assured her, leaning over Jagr. “How bad is it, vampire?”

Jagr reached up to grab the beast’s arm. “Did you kill them?”

“They’re most certainly toasty, if not dead. They will not be troubling us for a while.”

A hint of relief touched Jagr’s tight features. “Did you see them?”

The creature gave a flap of his wings. “No, but I smelled them. Yuck.”

“Tell me.”

“Cur.”

Jagr frowned. “Cur, not Were?”

“Has your brain dribbled away with your blood, mon ami? I am a gargoyle with exquisite skills. I know the difference between a Were and a cur.”

“Why the hell would a cur be shooting at us?” Jagr muttered.

“The better question is: who wouldn’t want to shoot you?”

Regan barely noted the sharp exchange, regarding the stranger with a disbelieving frown.