by Larissa Ione
Pestilence grinned. “You got it, bro.” He threw open a gate. “Later.”
That had been too easy. Pestilence was definitely up to something, but right now, Than’s priority was Regan, and the second Conquest carried his brother through the gate, Than was off his stallion and at Regan’s side.
Gripping her shoulder, he shook her gently. “Regan. Hey, can you hear me?” She didn’t stir, and fear clogged his throat. Her normally tan skin was white and ice-cold, her lips blue. The frost demons hadn’t ripped into her with their claws or teeth, but their breath could freeze a living thing into a solid block of ice in seconds.
“Styx. To me.” The stallion poofed into smoke and settled on his forearm as he scooped Regan into his arms and opened a Harrowgate. He stepped out inside Underworld General’s emergency department. Which was in chaos.
The hospital was brimming with injured demons, so many that nearly every inch of space was taken up by bodies. Outside the sliding glass doors that led to the underground parking lot, more patients waited to get in. Jesus … there had to be two hundred demons in the parking lot, some lying in pools of blood. Medical staff were running around wildly, overwhelmed and clearly exhausted.
These people would not be able to help, and Regan didn’t have time to wait. Cursing, he turned back to the gate inside the emergency department, but froze when the ambulance bay doors slid open and a tall, black-haired vampire strode inside. His face was familiar, but that wasn’t what tripped Thanatos like a taut wire.
The vampire was a daywalker. Damn. How? Thanatos had spent countless centuries searching the world for them, and although he knew a handful of them existed in the wild, blending in with the nightwalkers, they generally laid low, not wanting Thanatos to get wind of their existence.
No, Than was, to many daywalkers, their personal nightmare.
This one walked into the hospital with an arrogant gait, seemingly not worried that Thanatos would find him. And when the daywalker halted mid-stride and met Than’s gaze, there was no fear there. Curiosity, but no fear. The other male broke eye contact first, and made a beeline for a female in scrubs.
Later. Than would have to solve the mystery later. He stepped into the Harrowgate and gated himself back to his keep. Regan flopped like dead weight in his arms as he ran inside and shouted for his vamps. Artur was there in a heartbeat.
“Warm some blankets and tea, and start a fire in my bedroom. Hurry!”
While his servants scrambled to obey, he whisked Regan to his room. Gently, he placed her on the bed and then stripped her of her damp clothing. He angled his body to prevent the vampires starting the fire from seeing her as he removed her bra and left her only in her underwear. He wasted no time in tugging up the blankets and then stripping himself and climbing into bed with her.
He eased behind her, his chest plastered to her ice-cold back. It was like snuggling up to a slab of beef in a meat locker. Viktor entered with two lightly warmed blankets, which Than draped over her bare skin before resettling the covers over her.
“Bring more warm blankets in fifteen minutes,” Than said. “And contact Ares or Limos to get a doctor from Underworld General here.”
Viktor nodded and slipped from the room, leaving him alone with Regan.
He wrapped his arms around her, letting one hand drift up to her throat so he could monitor her pulse, which was too sluggish. Her breaths were too shallow. Worry washed over him like a tsunami, first crashing in one big swell, then rippling through him and piling more fear on top of the first wave.
“Dammit, woman,” he muttered. “You just had to run off like that.”
Briskly, he rubbed her shoulders, working his way down her arms. His fingers brushed her belly, and his breath hitched.
Somehow, it seemed like a violation to touch her there, which was ridiculous, given that he’d touched her everywhere else, and besides, the baby inside was his. Was the child okay? Had the cold and the fall affected it even worse than they had affected Regan?
Shoving aside the sense that he would be doing something wrong by touching her, he lay his hand on the taut skin just below her navel. For a long moment, all he felt was cold. Then, movement. Something rolled against his palm—a foot, maybe.
Fierce pride bubbled up inside him. Obviously, Regan was pregnant, but it truly hadn’t sunk in until now. He was going to be a father. He was going to have a son.
Terror tangled with the pride and joy. What if he sucked as a father? What if he couldn’t protect his child? He’d been there the day Ares had lost his sons, and he could still remember Ares’s screams, could remember how long it had taken for him to recover.
And if they didn’t neutralize Pestilence, he’d forever be a danger to Than’s son. Regan was right about that, even if he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it at the time.
He tugged Regan closer so he could wrap his arm around her and his son, shocked by the intensity of what he already felt for the child. He’d always wanted kids, had wanted to pass on the kind of love his parents—the humans who’d raised him—had showered him with. The kind of love he hadn’t gotten from his demon mother or the angel who had sired him.
If he could create and raise a child who was decent, who didn’t cause pain and suffering the way Thanatos had, then maybe some of his life would make sense. Would mean something. And maybe, just maybe, a child would give him something to fight for. He’d grown so numb to the human world around him, but this baby was already a bright spot in his foggy gray world.
What color eyes would he have? Would his hair be fine and silky like Regan’s, or thick like Than’s? Would he have Regan’s rounded cheeks, or his high, sharp cheekbones? Not that any of it mattered. The child would be perfect regardless of who he took after.
There was a tap at the door, and Viktor entered with two more warm blankets, which Than used to replace the others. Regan’s skin was starting to feel less icy, but she still wasn’t stirring.
“Come on, Regan,” he said into her hair. “Show me some of that fire inside you. Show me what you’re made of. I won’t let you die. No one is allowed to kill you but me.” He meant that last as a joke, but it wasn’t funny, was it? He’d been prepared to kill her a few hours ago, and if he’d succeeded, if he hadn’t come out of his death-fury …
Shit. He could have made the biggest mistake of his life.
It was reminder that he needed to work harder at keeping his temper in check. Because he would prove to Ares that he wasn’t a danger to his own child. He would never be a danger to those close to him.
The scorpion on his neck stung him, calling him out. You killed the man who raised you as his son. You’ve murdered friends. You slaughtered a servant today when jacking off didn’t relieve your urge to kill. You kill everyone.
You. Are. Death.
* * *
“Have you found any suitable sites for a new headquarters?” Kynan spoke to Valeriu via a teleconferencing app on his iPhone.
Now that their location had been compromised, moving as quickly as possible had become their top priority. The non-evil Horsemen might be allies—although that designation was a little questionable in Thanatos’s case—but if their Seals broke, they could wreak some catastrophic havoc with their knowledge of the current Berlin headquarters’ location.
“I’m looking at one in Scotland now. It’s a castle with connections to the Templars, and it features an extensive network of underground passages. I think it might be our best bet. How are you guys doing there?”
Kynan glanced at Chad, Malik, Zachary, and Ian, who were listening in on the conversation from where they were sitting around the conference table. “Decker just landed in DC to meet up with Arik for some sort of military project. Lance and Omar are on a flight back here from Australia. Takumi and Juan… I don’t know where they are. They’re supposed to be coordinating a strike against Pestilence’s demons in the Philippines, but I haven’t heard from them.” The Aegis message symbol was flashing on his phone though, so he might
have word from them when he was done with this conference.
“Any news about Regan?”
Ky blew out a breath. “I haven’t heard from her. Ares texted me on his way to a battle somewhere. He found them at Thanatos’s place. Regan’s fine, but I’ll head there as soon as I can. See if I can talk him into letting me bring her back.”
“What about your in-laws? Anything from them?”
Ky nodded. “The war between the born wargs and the turned ones has escalated. Their Council has dissolved, and—”
“And we care about werewolf fallouts… why?” Ian interrupted.
“Because,” Val replied, “their Council is as old as we are. If they can break, anyone can.”
Ian rolled his eyes. “We’re not animals. We can govern ourselves.”
“It’s not just about that,” Kynan said. “We care because the born wargs have aligned themselves with Pestilence. They’re looking to start the Apocalypse. My brother-in-law, Con, managed to bring the turned wargs together and get them on our side.”
“So it starts,” Chad mused. “The underworld is organizing and starting to take sides.”
Kynan braced his elbows on the conference table. “It’s only a matter of time before those who can walk hidden in the human world start a war against humans.”
“It’s not a matter of time,” Val said. “In the last hour, I’ve gotten dozens of reports of organized forces all over the world attacking embassies, police stations, military installations.”
“They’re going to start an Apocalypse without the damned Horsemen.” This was exactly what they’d been afraid of. The true, Biblical or Daemonica Apocalypse wouldn’t start, but the technicalities hardly mattered. If they saw decades or even hundreds of years of war between humans and demons, it would feel apocalyptic enough. Kynan stood. “We need to contact all Aegis cells and start emergency recruiting.”
He thumbed the Aegis symbol flashing on his phone’s screen, and when he brought the cell up to his ear, Regan’s whispered voice, saying she was heading to the Harrowgate outside Than’s keep, sent his pulse into critical overdrive. Shit. The message was old—A bloodcurdling scream from outside the conference room cut into his thoughts, and half a second later, it was joined by more screams, shouts, and gunfire.
“What the fuck?” Chad leaped out of his chair and threw open the door.
The next few seconds were a blur of blood and gore, as Chad rocked backward and hit the floor, an arrow piercing his eye and blowing out the back of his skull. Pestilence stalked inside, his armor splattered with blood and bits of flesh and hair, and when Ian swung at him, the Horseman swatted him aside as if he was a fly.
Outside the room, the sounds of battle escalated. Kynan drew his stang and went after Pestilence, but the big male ducked out of the room and was gone.
“Ian! Zach!” Ky helped Ian to his feet. “We’ve got to protect the artifact chamber.” The tens of thousands of items The Aegis stored there—some historical or religious, some imbued with magical or demonic powers—could become devastating weapons in the hands of someone like Pestilence.
The three of them sped down the hallway, their path impeded by demons and fighting Guardians.
“They released the prisoners.” Kathy, Regent for one of the Frankfurt cells, dropped a spindly Croucher demon with a roundhouse kick to the throat before stabbing it in one of its three eyes with the silver end of her stang.
That explained all the pissed-off demons, many of whom they’d re-captured after they’d escaped containment with the vampires who attacked Regan.
A Cruentus demon, an ugly motherfucker that lived to kill, rounded the corner ahead and came at them at a lumbering run. Ky and Ian met it, both of them slicing deep into its skeletal chest. Its claws struck out, raking Ian across the abdomen. Blood welled, but the cuts were shallow, and only pissed off Ian more.
“Kynan!” The shout came from behind, and he whirled just in time to see Pestilence bury his fist in Zach’s gut and brutally rip out a bloody mass of organs.
Smiling, Pestilence left the dying Elder and strode toward Ky and Ian. Kathy, who had dispatched the Croucher, did her best to become a part of the wall, but as Pestilence walked by, he casually slammed his palm into her throat, killing her instantly.
He hadn’t even looked in her direction.
“Run,” Ky snapped, giving Ian a shove. “I’ll stall him. He can’t hurt me.”
“He can’t,” came a deep, dark voice, “but I can.”
Kynan didn’t need to turn to know that a fallen angel was standing behind him. Didn’t need to turn to know that while he planned to fight until he couldn’t fight anymore, the angel was going to win.
Nine
“I want you, Regan. More than I’ve wanted anyone, and damn you, I’m about to give in.”
Thanatos’s sexy, deep voice rumbled through Regan like a drug, turning her bones liquid and her brain to mush. Somewhere inside her mind, she knew this was a dream about the night she got pregnant, just like she knew it was useless to try to wake herself up. Every time she had this dream, she tried to change it, as if doing so would also change the outcome in real life.
“No!” Thanatos’s lips moved, but the buzz in Regan’s ears drowned out the sound. The mead. She shouldn’t have drunk the mead…
Shifting, she poised her naked body over the head of his cock.
“Don’t do this. Regan!”
Don’t do what? She heard him, but the words didn’t compute. Not when her body vibrated with need. She
sank down on him, taking him all the way to the root. Pleasure roared through her, almost orgasmic already, and they’d only begun.
She moaned, grinding on him, loving the feel of his hard shaft sliding over all her sensitive spots. She wished he’d touch her, wished he’d reach up and caress her breasts or better yet, grip her hips in a bruising hold and anchor her against him. Why didn’t he do that? Why wasn’t he touching her? She wanted him to give himself to her with so much force that she’d feel him forever, because this would be the last time with him.
But wait… why would it be the last time? Hazy thoughts filtered through her brain… something about having to leave here after this. Leave? No way.
Ecstasy burned in her veins as she pushed all thoughts of anything except sex aside and lunged forward to score her nails on his chest, marking him. Claiming him. She threw her head back and cried out as his hips came off the bed to take her deeper. Faster… she had to move faster. Her body was no longer her own. It had taken the reins and she was letting it run.
“Stop,” he rasped, but Regan’s brain heard it as “more,” and she moved faster. She wasn’t going to slow this down, drag it out. There would be time later for decadent, leisurely sex. “Regan, stop now!”
More now!
More? She couldn’t do any more than this. “No way… oh, oh, yes.” Her body convulsed with pleasure, and at the same him, his orgasm took him, his big body bucking beneath her. She came again, before the first climax had even waned, and she had to cling to his shoulders or go flying.
So good…that had been so…good.
You took my virginity.
Regan blinked.
You drugged me and defiled me.
Horror welled up. No…I…
You traitor!
He was yelling at her, threatening to break her neck, and then she was running out into the snow, where Pestilence and ice trolls were coming at her—
Fighting a scream, Regan opened her eyes. She wasn’t stuck in the nightmare anymore, but she was in Thanatos’s bed. She drew in a controlled breath, taking in Thanatos’s earthy, masculine scent, and knew she was safe.
At least, she was safe until she gave birth, and then Thanatos would likely kill her for what she’d done.
He stood near the fireplace, his muscular upper body bare except for the tattoos that depicted scenes from his past, his lower body covered in a pair of baggy workout pants that sat dangerously low on his hips. His hea
d was bowed, the braids at his temples falling over sharply defined cheeks, the tendons in his neck standing out in stark definition. She had a feeling his eyes were open.
This was Than’s bedroom, but how had she gotten here?
Her mind was sluggish as she searched her memory, and when it came back to her, she whispered a curse. Thanatos whirled around and was at her side in a heartbeat. She hadn’t even seen him move.
“Regan.” His voice was a deep rumble. “You’re awake.” He palmed her forehead. “How do you feel? Are you cold?”
She pushed up on one elbow, which wasn’t easy, given that she must have fifty pounds of blankets on top of her. “I’m hot, actually.”
Thanatos peeled away several layers of blankets and propped some pillows against her to help brace her as she sat up. Surprised by his attentiveness, it took her a moment to find her voice again. When she did, she had to struggle to find the words to ask what she needed to know.
“What happened? With Pestilence. The demons.” Lame. She’d struggled for those six words?
“The demons will never bother you again.” His answer was little more than a growl. “Don’t worry about Pestilence. I’ll keep you safe.” The way he said it, as if he were pledging his very soul to the cause, eased her fears, at least for now. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” He gestured to a covered platter and a carafe. “I had my staff prepare hot broth and sandwiches for when you woke up. Artur remembered how much you loved his ham and cheese subs.”
“I’m starving.” Regan might not trust vampires, but Artur had been nice to her, and he made the best freaking subs. Her mouth watered at the sight of the food. “I love the way Artur toasts the bread.”
“I do too.” The barest hint of a smile touched his lips. “With just a smear of butter.”
She nodded. “He said the secret is real Irish butter with a touch of—” A sharp, shooting stab of pain nailed her in the belly, and she hissed.
“What is it?”
“Baby,” she gasped. “I think I just had a contraction.”