by Larissa Ione
The brief image set fire to his blood, but he kept his temper on simmer, unwilling to let her bait him. Still, he kind of wanted to hunt down every player on the football team and turn them into stains on the Astroturf.
“My house,” he gritted out, “my rules. No chocolate NFL orgies in my keep. I think that’s a reasonable request.”
“For Christ’s sake,” she said, throwing up her arms. “Do you seriously think my mind is set on getting Decker into bed?”
“He wants you.”
“No, he doesn’t. And even if he did, it’s not like I’m a real prize right now. My feet are swollen like overcooked hot dogs, I have stretch marks, I’m fat and ugly and awkward—”
“Stop.” He clenched his fists at his sides to keep from reaching for her. She was so pretty in her indignation, her cheeks pink with a delicate blush, her dark hair framing her face in tousled waves that gave her a wild fierceness that wasn’t diminished by her pregnancy at all. “Never say that to me again. You aren’t fat or ugly. There’s nothing more beautiful than a woman carrying her mate’s child, and—” He broke off with a horrified grunt. Mate? What an idiot. “Not that you’re my mate. It’s just that breeding women are—”
Once more, he broke off, aghast at his rambling, moronic self. Humiliation turned his cheeks hot, and he spun around, intent on leaving, but her soft voice stopped him, and he swung back around.
“Breeding? Look, if I’m going to stay here, we’d better set some ground rules.”
“Like?”
“Like you aren’t going to order me around. And I get my own bedroom. And I want ice cream. The good stuff, not the icky ice milk crap.”
He cocked a tawny eyebrow. “Anything else?”
His sarcasm wasn’t lost on her, but she ignored it. “Yes. While we’re at it, I want some Guardians here with me.”
Regan held her breath, wondering if she’d gone too far as he moved toward her, his big shoulders rolling, his eyes flashing. When he was close enough that their bellies touched, he dipped his head so low she thought he was going to kiss her.
Crazily, she didn’t know if that would be a good thing or a bad one.
“Here’s how this goes. No Guardians. I don’t trust any of them, including you. You can have as much ice cream as you want. I doubt I’ll stop ordering you around.” He turned his face away and put his lips to her ear. “And you don’t get your own bedroom. You sleep here. With me. Remember what I said.”
How could she forget? For the next eight and a half months, you’re going to be mine. Every. Night.
Reaching up, she fisted a handful of silky hair and forced his face back toward hers. His firm lips were a mere inch from hers, and she went up on her toes to get even closer, so close his heat caressed her skin.
“Yeah?” she murmured. “Want to wager on that, Horseman? You’ll be dying to get rid of me long before eight and a half months comes around.”
He brushed the tip of his finger along her jaw, a teasing, sensual touch that didn’t match up with what he said next. “I already am.”
There was no reason, none whatsoever, for the sting of rejection Than’s words brought. But there it was. Dropping back down on her heels, she released him.
“Then let me go. I get why I can’t leave right now, but when The Aegis has a new, secure headquarters, let me go.”
“Do you know how often I pleaded with Ares and Limos to do the same to me over these last months? Not aloud, since I couldn’t speak, but in my head.”
What did one say to that? Regan could only think of one, lame thing. “I’m sorry—”
“You’re sorry? Really?” His voice became a low, silky whisper. “Then prove it.”
His hand snapped to up to grab hers, and as her heart pounded out of control against her rib cage, he slapped her palm against his chest. Slowly, so slowly, he dragged her hand down. She tried to stop him, but she was no match for his strength. Her palm slid over hard, rolling abs and, guided by Thanatos, slipped lower, to the thick length behind the fly of his pants.
God, he was so gloriously hard, his cock pressing so firmly against the fabric that she could feel the curves that defined the smooth blunt head and the rigid shaft.
Clearing her throat, she managed a raspy, “You’re insane.”
“Yeah?” He stared down at her, his guttural words rumbling through her in a wave of heat. “I was a virgin before you. You woke a sleeping demon, Regan. I tried to sate it myself, but failed. Now you’re going to deal with the consequences.”
With that, he broke away from her and strode out of the room, leaving her confused, pissed off, and … really, really achy.
* * *
Things were getting hairy.
In the last nine months, the human realm had become a battleground, and Reaver had spent much of it in training, working to hone his battle and healing skills in preparation for Armageddon. But for the last month he’d immersed himself in the heavenly Hall of Records, desperate to find any scrap of knowledge that might reveal something about Harvester’s history.
He’d been gunning for her for nine months, ever since she’d taken him captive in Sheoul, cut off his wings, and tried to get him addicted to marrow wine. He couldn’t kill her, not while she was assigned as the Horsemen’s evil Watcher, but he suspected she’d been involved in the deception that had led to Regan’s pregnancy, and if so, she’d be fired—likely with actual fire—and destroyed.
Smiling at that thought, he popped into Than’s place, and instantly the smile disappeared. If the grim expressions on everyone’s faces hadn’t been a clue that something was wrong, the fact that Kynan was torn up was proof.
“What happened?”
Limos attacked him with a huge hug, as usual, and as soon as she stepped back, Kynan stood with a wince. “You don’t know?”
Reaver crossed to him and gently palmed his shoulder. Divine energy flowed through Reaver and into Kynan, and in an instant, he was partially healed. As a battle angel, Reaver’s healing abilities were limited, but his recent training had given him some small talent for repairing damage caused by fallen angels.
“If I knew what happened, I wouldn’t be asking,” Reaver said wryly.
“Where have you been?” Limos interrupted.
“In the Hall of Records.”
“For a month?”
“It was only hours for me. Time runs differently in Heaven.” He focused on Ky. “Now, what happened? And why is everyone here? Where’s Thanatos?”
“I’m right here.” Than emerged from the dark shadows of the hallway, a hot flush coloring his skin.
“The baby has been born?”
Than snorted. “Great. You were in on it, too? You knew they were planning to give my kid away?”
“Someone had better tell me what is going on,” Reaver said slowly. “Right freaking now.”
“Regan is here,” Limos said brightly. “Than kidnapped her.”
Thanatos folded his arms across his chest as if waiting for Reaver to dig into him. Reaver wasn’t going to waste the time. “And the baby?”
“Still percolating,” Than said. “They’re both safe in my bedroom. The baby seems to be offering her some protection.”
A blast of rare anger vibrated the very air around Kynan. “She wouldn’t need that protection if you’d left them at headquarters instead of kidnapping them like a caveman. Pestilence would never have found HQ if not for you.”
Reaver whipped his head around to Than. “You were at Aegis HQ?”
“Yeah,” Ky gritted out. “And now, thanks to him, Pestilence was, too.”
“The damage?”
“We’re fucked.” Ky ran his hand through his dark hair, leaving behind spiky grooves. “Dozens dead. Prisoners loosed. Possible compromise of our regional cells.”
“Damn,” Reaver breathed.
Kynan flexed his fingers as if testing them. At least one had been broken before Reaver arrived. “Do you know why Pestilence would be looking for a dagger called Wormwood?”
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“No, why?” Reaver replied.
“Pestilence had a bug up his ass about it,” Kynan said. “It’s not all bad news, though. We’ve got some new leads on a way to stop Pestilence.” Kynan filled in Reaver about the discoveries they’d made in the Torran.
“But there’s no way to know if the writings are just ramblings,” Reaver said. “Just because someone wrote it doesn’t make it true.”
Kynan scrubbed his hand over his face. “We have to proceed as if it’s true. We don’t have a choice.”
The timing of the baby’s cry had been confirmed to both Reaver and Harvester by their bosses soon after Than’s baby was conceived. Pestilence could, indeed, be stopped at that moment, but Reaver had no idea what was up with the Doom Star part of the prophecy. Not that he could discuss it with the Horsemen even if he knew.
“Do you know how to incapacitate Pestilence so you’ll have him for the birth?” he asked.
“The Aegis might be the answer to that,” Than said. “They have qeres.”
Of course. Pestilence, being half angel, might be susceptible to the substance.
“Do you know if it’ll work?” Ky asked.
Reaver shook his head. “I don’t know, but even if I did—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Limos muttered. “You couldn’t tell us. Stupid Watcher rules.”
“Speaking of rules,” Reaver said, “be careful what you say in front of Harvester.”
“Why? What’s going on with you two?” Arik asked.
“Nothing you need to worry about.” Reaver glanced over at Than. “What’s going on with the baby? You mentioned it’s protecting her?”
“Looks like,” Than said. “Demons and humans can’t seem to touch her without getting tossed, and a frost demon’s breath attack should have caused a lot more damage.”
Reaver frowned. “Did this all start recently? Within the last week or two?”
“Yeah,” Than said. “How’d you know?”
Smiling, Reaver clapped Than on the shoulder. “Because the baby is part angel. And angels, at around the eighth month in the womb, start showing signs of the powers they’ll have. Cool. Sounds like kiddo is going to have some battle angel in him.”
Thanatos beamed, and Reaver nearly choked on the good kind of surprise he never got from that Horseman. It was nice to see him glowing with such pride in his offspring.
“Is there any way around it?” Than asked. “I mean, it’s cool, like you said, but he could interfere with people trying to help Regan. Like doctors.”
Yes, there was, but neutralizing an angel infant meant using evil magic and blood sacrifice, which also carried a risk to the infant and could do massive damage to the mother. Even if Reaver could share the information, he wouldn’t.
“I can’t say, but I can tell you that you’re better off using your time to capture Pestilence.” Reaver nodded toward the hallway. “Speaking of the baby, I’m going to see Regan.”
That fast, Thanatos lost the happy-happy and moved to bar Reaver’s path.
“Don’t take her from me, Reaver.” Than’s stance was rigid, aggressive, but his voice revealed something Reaver had never heard from the Horseman: vulnerability.
“I won’t,” Reaver assured him. “I swear.” With The Aegis compromised, she was probably safest with Thanatos anyway.
But in a way, that was like saying she was safer with a python than a cobra.
Twelve
Regan spent a few minutes pacing, breathing, and counting through the OCD attack that was screaming for her to take control of her immediate situation. Even if all that meant was that she rearranged the bedroom to suit her, the desire to do something was stretching her like a rubber band on the verge of snapping.
A tap at the door broke her out of her thoughts. She opened the door…and gaped.
Standing in the doorway was an angel. A perfect specimen of a male, his shimmering golden hair falling in immaculate waves around his broad shoulders, his piercing sapphire eyes sharp with intelligence. He was stunning.
She’d been hearing stories of the infamous Reaver for years, had even seen him and another angel named Gethel a couple of years ago in Egypt. Back then, he’d been a fallen angel, but he’d been redeemed before her very eyes after a near-apocalyptic battle in which another fallen angel had very nearly opened the gates of Heaven to the evil forces of Hell.
He smiled, and she swore he sort of… glowed.
“Hi, Regan.” Reaver stepped inside the room, and she wondered if Thanatos was going to have a cow about this male being in a bedroom with her. “How are you feeling?”
Voice. She had to find her voice. “Ah…” She cleared her throat. It wasn’t every day you spoke to an angel dressed in expensive slacks and a silk shirt that matched his eyes. “Fine.” Fine? Dolt.
“And the baby?”
Her hand fell automatically to her belly. “Hungry.”
Cocking his head, Reaver eyed her stomach. “He won’t let me touch you.”
“The baby seems to be a bit protective.”
Reaver’s jewel-like eyes flicked up. “Not the baby. Thanatos.”
“I—what?”
“Not that I would touch you. I’m just saying. He’s as protective of you as the child is.”
Her mouth fell open again, but she snapped it shut and shook her head. “Thanatos hates me.”
“He might tell himself that, and he might even believe it,” Reaver said. “But it’s not true.”
She sighed. “For an angel, you’re sort of…um…”
“Naive?” His smile got wider. “Trust me, I spent enough time with demons to not be naive about anything ever again.”
Could Reaver be right about Thanatos? Between his fits of being angry with her, he did have moments of … well, she could almost call it tenderness. Tenderness that always made her lower her guard when she should be not only raising it, but fortifying it. But what if Reaver was right? Could he get past what she’d done to him? Could she get past it?
The answer to those questions came quickly. The pain she’d caused was a monumental hurdle they’d never clear. No amount of revenge he extracted from her was going to ease her guilt or heal his wounds.
No, Reaver wasn’t right about Thanatos. She met his gaze steadily, too mentally exhausted from the day’s events to keep circling around whatever the angel had come for. “Forgive me, Reaver, but why are you here?”
“To the point. I like that.” His voice was soft, but firm. “I’m here because technically, I can’t help the Horsemen with anything that relates to the Apocalypse. But I can help them with other things.”
“Other things?”
“Relationships.”
She barked out a laugh. “Thanatos and I don’t have a relationship.”
“You’re about to be parents. That’s the most intimate relationship there is.”
Maybe for normal people. But there was nothing normal about Thanatos or the way this child had been conceived. “This baby belongs to Kynan and Gem. Didn’t anyone tell you?”
“I know what the plan was,” Reaver began, “and Kynan and Gem would be wonderful parents to your son. But you and Thanatos together would be even better.”
Regan nearly choked. “We’d kill each other.” Besides, she knew nothing about being a mother, and the baby deserved better. And what would happen when he got older and learned what she’d done? He’d hate her. He wouldn’t want her. An awful sorrow clawed at her, and she had to force herself to speak without a hitch in her voice. “Trust me, the plan with Gem and Ky is for the best.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. I—”
Reaver held up his hand, the simple but commanding gesture shutting her down instantly. “I know the arguments. I know the reason for giving the baby to Ky and Gem was to keep it hidden from enemies. But I also know Thanatos. He doesn’t let things go easily.”
Great. Just great. She didn’t know what to say to that, but it turned out she didn’t need to say anything. Reaver
moved to the door.
“Take care of yourself, Regan. And be…gentle… with Thanatos.”
“Gentle?” There she went gaping again. “He’s a five-thousand-year-old warrior named Death. I can’t think of anyone who is in less need of kid gloves.”
A small smile ruffled the corners of Reaver’s mouth. “Of all the Horsemen, he’s the one most in need.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.” He opened the door. “Be safe.”
Be safe. She was living with a man named Death, his evil brother Pestilence was trying to kill her, The Aegis was under attack and its members were walking around with prices on their heads. Safe seemed like a pipe dream right now.
Everything was falling apart. Her friends were dead, her guilt about what she’d done to Thanatos was raging, and now that Pestilence knew she was pregnant, her baby was in terrible danger. Regan sucked air, trying to keep from hyperventilating.
Didn’t work.
She pinged around the room like a ricocheting bullet, her mind a whirlwind as she tried to focus on something to alleviate her racing mind. When her gaze lit on a scattered collection of tiny pewter soldiers on Than’s dresser, that focus sharpened into a plan.
She fell on the little soldiers like a cat on a flock of chicks.
“They’re out of order,” she whispered, as she grouped the toys into trios, all perfectly spaced an inch apart. Next, she hit the wardrobe, where she rearranged Than’s clothes by color… which was easy, considering most everything was black. She spaced his hangers so there was an inch between each, and then she lined up the boots, running shoes, and flip-flops at the bottom of the wardrobe.
The bed. The bed was off-center in the room. And it was facing the wrong direction. The headboard needed to be beneath the window.
She shoved at it, but the thing must have been made from solid logs. She marched over to the door, whipped it open, and as suspected, there was a vampire standing guard a few feet away.
“What’s your name?”
“Peter.”
“Peter?” What kind of scary vampire name was that? His accent, Russian, she thought, was scarier than his name. And his slicked-back blond hair. Whatever. “I need your help,” she said crisply.