by Larissa Ione
“It just seems odd that you’d care about the baby’s diet when you don’t intend to have anything to do with him once he’s born.”
Ouch. “I care more than you can know, Thanatos.”
She cared so much that she intentionally didn’t think about the day she’d have to hand the baby over for his own good, because if she thought about it, she’d break down. The baby was her entire focus … keeping it safe, keeping it healthy, and making sure it was loved. But she didn’t bother to explain, because he wouldn’t believe her, and he’d made it clear he didn’t want to hear it.
He gave her another strange look, as if he were again weighing her words for a measure of truth. Finally, he gestured to her plate, and when he spoke, his tone was almost friendly. “Then eat. And later, make a list of your favorite foods. I’ll have them prepared for your meals. You can also use the kitchen anytime you want.”
Again, his thoughtfulness made things flutter. Beneath all that physical and emotional armor was a decent man who had been dealt a crappy hand.
“So if I want to make chocolate chip cookies at two in the morning, I can?” Not that she knew how to cook, but she could learn. That’s what cookbooks were for, right?
“Yep.”
“Brownies?”
“Yep.”
“Pineapple upside-down cake?”
His smile took her breath. “Only if you share.”
“You like pineapple-upside down cake?”
“It’s my favorite.”
Once, she’d seen a Valentine’s Day issue of a women’s magazine with a heart-shaped pineapple upside-down cake on the cover, and inside the magazine was an article about romance and food and creating the perfect evening. A picture showed a couple sitting at an intimate table for two, lit by candlelight, and the cake between them.
Now her runaway imagination plugged her and Thanatos into the picture, him leaning across the table, his mouth inches from hers, the soft glow from the candles highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the sensuous curves of his lips.
His voice was husky as he whispered, “For the next eight and a half months, you’re going to be mine. Every. Night.”
Regan’s hand shook as she hastily shoved a forkful of spaghetti into her mouth and shoved the vision out of her head. Reaver was wrong. Thanatos might want her, but only because of what she could give him: a son and several months’ worth of sex, after which he’d either kill her or kick her out the door.
Some secret, guilty part of her even thought that maybe she’d deserve whatever he did to her.
So no, she wouldn’t be making Than pineapple upside-down cake.
Ever.
Thanatos loved watching Regan eat. There was just something…pleasing…about watching a female feed her young, whether the infant was in her arms or in her womb.
What wasn’t pleasing was how she suddenly seemed to have lost her appetite, and he thought he’d seen a subtle trembling in her hand. He probably shouldn’t have needled her about the Aegis taking his daywalker, Jacob. Idiot. Upsetting a pregnant female when she should be eating was foolish.
But he had to admit, he’d been shocked by what she’d said about feeding the baby. There were pregnant women out there who intended to keep their babies but didn’t give a second thought to what crap they ate, drank, snorted, or smoked. And yet, Regan, who was prepared to give hers up, was concerned about his future diet.
He’d believed she cared about the child, but only because the fate of the world sat on the innocent baby’s shoulders. But the more he saw, the less sure he was that she viewed the child as nothing more than a tool.
“More?” He pushed the dish of macaroni and cheese closer.
“Oh, heck no.” She eyed the casserole like it was an enemy. “I’m going to pop.” She rubbed her belly. “Actually, I kind of wish I would. Though I guess now we have to hope he takes his time so we can nab Pestilence.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to get nasty, to ask, “And then what? You give the baby to Kynan?” Instead he reminded himself that he’d just given himself a mental lashing for upsetting her and kept the conversation light.
“Do you cook much?”
“I don’t know how.” Her long sable lashes fluttered downward with her gaze, as if her admission embarrassed her. “Not that it matters. I don’t have a kitchen.”
No kitchen? “Where do you live?”
“I’ve had a room at Aegis headquarters since I was sixteen. It’s like a studio apartment. At least it has a bathroom, so I can’t complain.”
“Doesn’t sound like you have much space.”
She shrugged. “Don’t need it. It’s not like I throw a lot of parties or hold holiday gatherings or anything.”
“Sounds lonely.” The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about what he’d said … or how much it revealed about himself, given that he lived a solitary life, too. He recognized loneliness far too well.
“I keep busy,” she said, and yeah, so did he, but busy didn’t change the fact that he still slept alone at night.
“What about when you aren’t working?”
“I’m always working.”
“Don’t you take time out to enjoy human holidays and celebrations?”
“Someone has to work. Demons don’t stop terrorizing people just because it’s Christmas.” She arranged her silverware carefully on her empty plate. “Kynan and Val used to invite me to their houses for Thanksgiving and stuff, but it’s awkward to intrude on family gatherings, you know? So I work. The Aegis has a never ending list of documents they need me to feel up for authenticity, so it’s cool.”
No, it wasn’t cool. She had no real family or friends, did she? But why? And a never ending list? Didn’t The Aegis have anyone else to verify the authenticity of the texts in their library?
“So what—they keep you locked up at headquarters and force you to do their bidding?”
Regan jerked as if he’d jabbed her with a cattle prod. “Of course not. I volunteer for work. I’m lucky to be there at all. The Aegis usually kill people like me.”
“People like what?” When she looked down at her plate, clearly uncomfortable, he tempered his voice. “Regan? You can tell me. There’s nothing I haven’t heard.”
For a long moment, she sat there, her body tense, and he knew she was ready to bolt from the table. Very slowly, he reached out and settled his hand over hers, stroking with the same motions he used to calm Styx. Sad, maybe, that all he had to reference was his ability to ease his horse, but women were so foreign to him. His only experience was with Limos, and she wasn’t exactly a typical female no matter how much she wanted to be. Besides, when she’d needed comfort, she’d generally gone to Reseph.
Gradually, Regan relaxed. “My birth parents were Guardians. But my father was possessed by a demon, and while he was under the demon’s influence, he impregnated my mother. I’m not a demon,” she added quickly, and he smiled.
“I know that. You’re a camborian.”
Her head came up. “I’m not a cambion.”
He shook his head. “A cambion is a child born of a demon-human union. You’re a camborian. Basically, your father’s very human seed was infused with demonic energy. So you aren’t a demon, but you possess some of the demon’s traits and abilities. And you probably have some of the demon’s sensitivities.”
She frowned. “I can’t take most medications.”
“I’ve heard that a lot of demons can’t tolerate human medicines. So it would make sense that you’d have some abnormal allergies.”
“I find it odd that The Aegis didn’t know the term for what I am.”
He snorted. “The Aegis doesn’t care. If they kill babies born of a possession, do they really need a name for it?”
Her glare told him she wasn’t ready for criticism of her people. Especially not by him. “We have a name for them. It’s just not the one you use.”
“Yeah? What do Guardians call people like you?”
> She averted her gaze, and an instant rage came over him, so strong that he felt the souls inside him begin to stir even without being armored up. “Shitspawn.”
He couldn’t contain the rattling growl that rose up in his chest. “They call you shitspawn?”
“No.” She shook her head hard, her denial too violent. “I mean, not … it’s been a while.”
“They might not say it to your face, but the term is there. You hear it, but then they look at you and say, ‘Oh, I didn’t mean you.’ Isn’t that right?”
Again, she denied it with a shake of her head. “You don’t know—”
“Yes,” he interrupted. “I do know. No one has fucked with me like that and lived to regret it, but I’ve seen it a million times in my life.”
“Thanatos? Thanatos.”
“What?” he snapped.
“Your eyes are glowing and the table is shaking.”
He wanted to tear apart every Guardian who had hurt her. It didn’t make sense, given that at one point he’d wanted to hurt her, too, but so much of what he was feeling didn’t make sense.
Christ, no wonder she kept busy working instead of socializing. Hanging out with her colleagues in her spare time would be about as fun as unclogging a toilet with a spoon.
Figuring that the way she was frantically folding her napkin in perfect squares was an indication that the subject was right up there with unclogging toilets, too, he reined in his temper and reached for one of the three desserts on the table. “Cake?”
Her eyes lit up. “I shouldn’t… but I swear, this kid instantly makes room for sweets no matter how full I am.”
“So… strawberry cheesecake, red velvet cake, or chocolate mousse?” Your colleagues’ heads on silver platters?
“Yes, please.” She practically bounced in her chair, and Than couldn’t help but laugh, partly at the heads-on-silver-platters thing. That shit would be funny.
“There’s also five different flavors of ice cream in the freezer.”
She grinned. “I’ll save the ice cream for later. Right now…those.”
He dished up a serving of each of the desserts and pushed the plate to her. “Eat up.”
“You’re having some, too, right? This isn’t another not until you’re done thing, is it?” Her chin came up as she shoved the plate away. “I’m not eating dessert alone. You want me to eat it, you eat with me.”
Stubborn woman. Fine. He could play that game, too. “I’ll have a bite,” he said silkily. “But you have to give it to me.”
It amused him that she narrowed her eyes at him but she still, with jerky, huffy motions, cut a bite of cheesecake with the edge of her fork. She held it out, handle toward him.
“Here.”
“What, not going to feed it to me?” He wasn’t one to tease, or flirt or play, but he’d do whatever it took to get her to eat. Keep telling yourself that, Than-boy.
“I’m pretty sure you’re capable of feeding yourself.”
“You’re right.” He took the fork, covering her fingers with his as he did so. “I should be feeding you.” Gently, he pushed the tines toward her mouth.
“You said you’d have some if I gave it to you,” she protested.
He grinned, putting the dessert to her lips. “You eat this, and I’ll take a bite.”
She made a small growling noise that worked like instant Viagra on him. The sexy rumble went straight to his groin, and he shifted to make more room in his pants. When she grudgingly opened her mouth to take the morsel, he nearly groaned. She was wearing his clothes, carrying his son, and taking food from his hand. In the clan he’d grown up in, she’d be considered his.
Mine.
It was a word he’d never thought he’d use. Never thought he’d have an opportunity to use. And he still shouldn’t. Regan wasn’t his. Even if she hadn’t deceived him, she didn’t want him, she didn’t want his son, and she clearly couldn’t wait to get away from him.
No, she definitely wasn’t his.
Mood effectively dampened, he released the fork and her hand. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Confusion flashed in her eyes at his tone, sharper than he’d intended, but he hardened himself against it as he took a slice of red velvet cake. They finished the meal in tense silence, though Than didn’t eat the last of his food until Regan had pushed aside her plate and leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh.
As he washed down his final bite with a Mountain Dew, she yawned. Instantly, he was on his feet and pulling her to hers. “I’ll help you to bed.”
“What?” She allowed him to take her a few steps, but then she jerked to a halt. “Why?”
Honestly, he had no idea. So much had happened to her today, and she must be exhausted… so his first instinct when she yawned had been to take her to bed. But hell if he was going to tell her he was so addled by her pregnancy and so eager to have a child that all he could think about was making sure she was taken care of.
He glanced at his watch for help. Midnight. Excellent. “It’s late. You need to go to bed.”
“I don’t need you to tell me when it’s time to go to bed, you know.”
Of course not. She didn’t need him for anything. He’d been locked out of her life and his son’s life for over eight months with absolutely no input and no way to provide for them. A twinge of hurt put him right back into defensive mode, and he smiled coldly.
“I didn’t say we’d be sleeping.”
Regan shoved past him and started down the hall. “You’re an ass.”
“You didn’t think that when you were panting my name.”
“As you like to point out, it was my job,” she said over her shoulder.
The reminder was a kick to the gut, but he refused to let it show. “Clearly, you liked your job. A lot.”
She stepped into the bedroom and wheeled around, her jaw clenched. “Clearly.” She let out a bitter laugh. “What, you’re surprised I admitted it? You’re not hard on the eyes, and you do have a certain dangerous-guy sex appeal.”
“Wow. Talk about a ringing endorsement.”
“Endorsement? I’m not writing a testimonial to get you a date or something. I’m just saying you aren’t a total loser.”
“You missed your calling. You really should be writing bios for EvilLove.com.”
For a moment, she glared. And then, unexpectedly, she laughed. A real gut-buster that caught him so by surprise that he stepped back. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because you can be such a dick that I never expect you to have a sense of humor.”
“Truly, your praise leaves me glowing,” he said dryly.
“‘Glowing’ is not a word I’d use for you.” She shot him a snarky smile and did a one-eighty, which resulted in him dropping his gaze to her shapely backside.
Pregnancy had put a little extra padding there, but he didn’t mind. He’d liked her hard, toned warrior body before, but the new, slight roundness gave her a softer appearance that suited her, although he’d bet his left fang that she’d kill anyone who told her that.
“Where are you going?”
“To shower,” she said over her shoulder. “Or is that something else I’m not allowed to do?”
He shrugged. “You can shower.”
“Gee, thank you.” She strode into the bathroom and slammed the door, and he finally allowed himself a grin. He hadn’t had this much fun in a long time, and he was only going to enjoy himself more when she climbed into bed.
No, he wasn’t going to require sexual favors… even though it was tempting. She’d lost friends and colleagues today, and he wasn’t a complete bastard. All he wanted was for her to plead a little. To know what it was like for him to lie frozen in Ares’s house, pleading silently to be released. At least Than was giving Regan a chance to use her voice.
She’d beg for him to leave her alone, and he would. Hell, he’d give her whatever she wanted. He just wanted … what, an apology? Yeah, maybe that was it. Oh, she’d tried
, had thrown him token “I’m sorry” lines, but he didn’t buy it. She’d done The Aegis’s bidding like a good little soldier, and an innocent child was going to suffer the consequences.
But not if Than could help it. If the child could, indeed, save the world, well, that was a bonus. But even if not, Thanatos would make sure his son was cared for and loved. Because he might have known about the baby for less than forty-eight hours, but he already loved it. He’d long ago given up on the idea that he’d ever have a child, but while the dream had died, the longing hadn’t.
Now his dream had risen from the dead, and he wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers.
Fourteen
Regan showered, her stomach churning at the thought of what was to come. Was Thanatos really going to demand sex?
As much as her body got all hot and achy at the idea, her mind went cold and panicky. Oh, she wanted to touch him, to feel his skin sliding against hers, but every time she got too far into the fantasy, that night came back to her, and his pleas for her to stop worked like an icy shower on her libido.
Funny how she could hear him tell her no now, but at the time, his words hadn’t computed. It made no sense, and only added to the muddled emotions that coursed through her.
She dried off slowly, hoping that by some miracle he’d grown tired of waiting for her. But when she opened the bathroom door, her heart leaped into her throat at the sight of him stretched out on the bed, shirtless, hands behind his head, an expectant gleam in his half-lidded eyes.
Good God, he was gorgeous.
She was in so much trouble.
She stepped out of the bathroom, her legs wobbly, her fist wound tightly in the towel around her.
Than’s lips quirked. “Waste of time to cover up, when you’ll be losing the towel in a minute.”
An awkward kind of terror seized her. “I-I don’t think this is a good idea.” No, she didn’t think it. She knew it.