Darkness Unleashed (Guardians of Eternity #5)(70)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

“I would suggest you keep your keys close at hand, my lord,” he said, dryly.

“Ha. Very funny.” With a toss of her head, Regan moved down the street, her back rigid.

Styx smiled. “Although I hate to question Regan’s skill in demolition, I have to admit she is a mere amateur in destroying cars compared to Levet. That gargoyle possesses an exquisite ability to mangle even the finest vehicle. Just ask Viper.”

“Considering Viper’s unnatural obsession with his cars, I would rather not provoke any unpleasant memories.”

“Wise choice,” Styx drawled.

“I occasionally have moments of self-preservation.” His gaze was instinctively drawn to Regan as she paced impatiently just across the street from the tea shop. “Although not nearly so many as I might hope for.”

Styx laid a surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder. “I would tell you that it gets easier, but I try to make it a policy not to lie any more than necessary.”

Jagr winced as a sharp pang pierced his heart. “Our time together draws to an end.”

“Only the Oracles can read the future. Cezar is proof of that.”

Jagr’s lips twisted. Cezar’s mate had turned out to be one of the rare Oracles, a fate that Jagr wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Bad enough to have a bad-tempered Were with a commitment phobia.

“I don’t need an Oracle to tell me that Regan is determined to remain a true lone wolf.”

Obviously weary of waiting, Regan planted her hands on her hips and glared at the two vampires.

“Are we doing this, or what?”

Styx slanted Jagr an amused glance. “Bossy little thing, isn’t she?”

“You have no idea.”

Throwing up her hands in defeat, Regan turned on her heel and marched across the street to the silent tea shop.

“Maybe we should make sure she doesn’t run into trouble,” Styx murmured.

“If only it was possible.” Jagr was swiftly rushing after her tiny form, a sudden urgency lending him speed as she disappeared through the gate of the picket fence and rounded the back of the house. Even at a distance, the scent of rotting peaches filled the air. “Regan.”

She came to an abrupt halt, her expression wary. “I smell it. Is he dead?”

“Yes.” Jagr didn’t need to see Gaynor’s body to feel the violence that shrouded the house. “And his death wasn’t pleasant. There’s a lot of blood.”

Appearing from the shadows, Styx studied the broken French doors. “There are three dead curs, and one unconscious, as well as the dead imp. I sense no one else.”

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.”