Darkness Unleashed (Guardians of Eternity #5)

Darkness Unleashed (Guardians of Eternity #5) Page 35

She didn’t…of course.

Mere logic couldn’t overcome the desperate need to rescue the aggravating beast.

Even if that meant doing the one thing she’d sworn she would never, ever do.

Squaring her shoulders, Regan entered the abandoned building, easily finding her way down to the basement where she was met by a military looking vampire guarding the opening to the lair.

Since he didn’t attack at her approach, Regan could only assume that Tane hadn’t left standing orders to kill on sight. In fact, the vampire actually bowed, making Regan halt in shock.

Was she supposed to bow back?

Curtsey?

She shook away the inane thoughts as the vampire straightened and regarded her with a stoic expression.

“May I be of service?”

Regan briefly struggled against the bitterness she’d nurtured for thirty years. It was an ugly battle filled with less than admirable emotions.

Pride, envy, festering resentment.

Yeah, ugly. But thankfully short.

Less than a heartbeat passed before she was sucking in a deep breath and taking the irrevocable plunge.

“I need to contact the Anasso,” she said, relieved when the words came out almost steady.

“Here.” Without hesitation, the vampire pulled a cell phone from the pocket of his camouflage pants. He flipped it open and scrolled through his contacts before handing it to her. “It’s a direct line.”

Regan took the phone and, not giving herself time to consider the consequences, punched the send button.

There was a buzz on the other end, then before Regan was entirely prepared, a low, commanding voice came on the line.

“Tane?”

“No.” Regan was forced to stop and clear the lump from her throat. It had to be Styx. Who else would have a voice even more arrogant than Jagr? “No, this is…Regan.”

There was a shocked pause, then the leader of all vampires softened his tone.

“Regan, I cannot tell you how good it is to hear your voice,” he murmured. “Darcy has been most anxious to speak with you.”

Her jaw clenched, but she refused to be distracted. “Maybe later.”

She could sense the moment he realized that this was not a social call.

“Tell me.”

She did.

Chapter 14

Jagr hated magic.

As a vampire, he’d become accustomed to being firmly on top of the food chain.

He was the bump in the night that scared all the other creatures.

For all his powers, however, he had no defense as Gaynor plunged the two of them into the portal, and he was surrounded by the relentless sting of the strange mist that seemed to bite into his skin with malicious glee. He had a brief moment to savor the knowledge he’d managed to keep the imp’s filthy hands off Regan before he was flung out of the portal with enough force to slam his head into a cement wall.

Briefly disoriented, he didn’t realize that magic wasn’t the only danger. Not until he heard the slam of a heavy metal door and he turned to discover he’d been locked in a cell that was custom-made to hold demons.

Any demon.

Including vampires.

Furiously wiping the blood from his forehead, he slowly turned, allowing his senses to flow outward.

His first realization was that they were deep below ground (which at least meant no early morning sunrise), and that the cement walls and ceiling were several feet thick. His next realization was that there were a number of hexes etched on the walls, and thick steel doors that were specifically created to drain the strength of any demon stupid enough to become trapped.

A dark, vicious dread curled through him.

It had been centuries since he’d been locked in a cage, but the memory was still vivid.

Starkly, painfully vivid.

He clenched his jaw, curling his hands into fists. Madness threatened to consume him. The same madness that had led to the bloody slaughter of his previous captors.

For a perilous moment he teetered on the edge, his ancient torment surging through him like a destructive wave. Then without warning, the image of Regan flashed through his mind and the panic receded.

Grasping onto the thought of the beautiful Were, Jagr pulled back from the darkness.

By the gods, he would not allow himself to lose control when Regan needed him. Nothing mattered but finding a means to escape so he could protect her.

His thoughts cleared until he was once again in command, although that didn’t keep him from being seriously pissed off.

Trapped by a worthless imp.

He’d never live it down. With a hiss of frustration, he moved to swing his arm against the door, belatedly discovering there’d been enough silver mixed with the metal to make his forearm smolder.

“Gaynor, let me out,” he roared, able to smell the imp on the other side of the door.

“Damn you, vampire,” the imp’s muffled voice echoed through the air. “Why did you have to interfere?”

“You have just signed your death warrant, imp.”

“Shit.” Jagr could pick up the sound of Gaynor’s anxious pacing. “I didn’t ask to get involved in this mess. I wish that stupid cur had never come into my shop.”

“Your regrets are just beginning,” Jagr growled, his frustration deepening as he sensed his powers beginning to weaken. Dammit. Regan was out there alone. He had to get free. “Let me out and I might just consider letting you live.”

Gaynor laughed bitterly. “Do you think I’m stupid? I may be a pathetic imp living in a podunk town, but even I’ve heard of Jagr, the crazed Visigoth chief who slaughtered an entire clan of vampires. If I let you out, I’ll be dead before I can blink.”

The imp wasn’t entirely wrong. On any other night, Jagr would be foaming at the mouth and unable to consider anything but the need to rip the imp into a hundred pieces.

Tonight, however, his only concern was Regan.

“Allow me to leave here unharmed, and I swear…”

“Forget it, vamp. I’m not opening that door.”

“Then what do you intend to do. Kill me?” he challenged.

“And have a rabid posse of vampires out for my head? No, thank you.”

Jagr was forced to take a step from the door as the burn of silver seeped through his clothing.

“You think my clan is not already on the hunt?” he rasped.

Even through the thick door, Jagr could hear the imp’s rapid heartbeat. His fear was tangible.

“They can’t track me through a portal.”

“It doesn’t matter, the world isn’t big enough for you to hide,” Jagr deliberately taunted.

“Holy freaking hell.” There was more pacing. “None of this is my fault.”

Jagr hissed. “You endanger a pureblooded Were and kidnap a vampire, and you claim it’s not your fault?”

“All I did was invite Culligan to Hannibal,” he whined. “I didn’t force the damned Were to follow. And for your information, I didn’t have any intention of trying to capture Regan, no matter how much money Sadie offered.”

“You spineless liar.” Jagr’s fangs ached with the need to sink deep in the imp’s throat. “You deliberately led us to that spot where you had a portal waiting.”

“Only after you tracked me to the tea shop,” he desperately argued. “You came after me—I didn’t go looking for trouble.”

“But you were swift to try and take advantage.”

“Give me a break, vampire,” Gaynor muttered. “I’m an imp. What did you expect when you dropped the Were into my lap like an overripe plum? The curs are offering a damned fortune to get their hands on her.”

The curs. Always the curs.

Someday soon he intended to rid the world of the mangy dogs.

Someday very soon.

“And instead of a fortune, all you’ve earned is a death sentence.”

Gaynor’s heartbeat raced to the point where Jagr wondered if it might burst. Then, without warning, the imp was moving swiftly away from Jagr’s cell.

“No, I’m not taking the fall for this,” he swore as he left. “Sadie got me into this, she can damned well get me out.”

Left alone in the darkness, Jagr tilted back his head and screamed in fury.

Standing in the middle of the empty cave, Sadie viciously kicked the young male cur curled into a tight ball of misery on the ground.

She’d crouched for hours in the darkness, watching for some sign of Regan and the vamp to emerge from the cave. Or at least to make some indication that they were preparing for the coming dawn.

At last she’d grown bored with the waiting.

Patience was for losers, not for curs destined to make their mark in the world.

Creeping up the steep bluff, Sadie motioned for the cur she’d commanded to keep guard to join her. She didn’t have an actual plan in mind. She only knew that she was tired of hiding and plotting with nothing to show for her efforts.

Despite the lingering scent of vamp and Were, Sadie didn’t have to reach the entrance of the cave to realize that it was empty. Infuriated, she realized that not only had her prey escaped, but she’d been well and truly fooled by a few scraps of clothing.