Thanatos suspected as much. In truth, he didn’t expect to find any nightwalker collaborating with the daywalkers, and it wasn’t just because they hated each other. It was because no nightdwelling vampire would want to see the daywalkers come to power in Pestilence’s post-apocalyptic world.
“Sire,” Roland said, stepping forward. “We’re here because we want to be. Even if you hadn’t confined us to quarters, we’d have done it ourselves until this is over. We don’t want you to have any reason to suspect us if anything else happens.”
Peter nodded. “But we’d be honored to guard Regan.” In one coordinated movement, the vampires went down on one knee, their fists over their hearts. “We’re yours to do what you will.”
All the pain the rogue daywalkers had caused became muted in the humbling loyalty on display before him. “Thank you. I’m honored.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll open the escape tunnel, but I still can’t allow you in the keep. I don’t believe any of you are involved in trying to kill my son, but Regan can’t always tell the difference between you and the daywalkers. Hell, Limos and Ares can’t even tell you apart most days. I can’t risk someone slipping into the keep under the guise of being a night-walker.”
“We can wait.” Roland looked up at Than through his messy mop of red hair that always hung in his eyes. “But if you need us, we’re here.”
Thanatos got out of there before he gathered them in a lame-ass group hug or something, and braced himself for the real confrontation. He stopped in the middle of the courtyard in a patch of sunlight, and called out to the daywalkers. They came from their buildings, blinking in the morning light.
“I had a really interesting meeting with your brethren in France,” Than said, stopping all of them in their tracks. “Who knows what I’m talking about? No one? That’s what I thought. So here’s the deal. I don’t have time to torture you all. But what I do have time for is to get you all a new tattoo. Awesome, right? Who doesn’t love new ink?”
“Bludrexe?” Owain, a stocky blond vampire with a pronounced limp, came forward, tugging down the collar of his shirt to reveal his silencing tat. “We have them.”
“Right. But this will be different. You remember Orelia, the Silas demon who gave you the first one. Well, she’s going to give each of you one that’ll be taken directly from your thoughts.” Thanatos grinned, letting his fangs punch down. “So if you haven’t betrayed me, you have nothing to fear. If you have… let’s just say you might want to start pissing your pants now.”
He jerked his thumb at Viktor. “C’mon, buddy. You first.” As Viktor approached, Thanatos lost a little of his cocky mood, because the truth was that he loved his vamps, and it was going to hurt him to kill the traitors almost as much as it was going to hurt them.
Almost.
Regan woke up alone. Well, alone except for the yak-sized hellhound lying by the door.
Yawning, she sat up, expecting to see Thanatos in the corner chair, but he wasn’t there, either. Disappointment penetrated her drowsy haze, but in her belly, the little pony squirmed, and she smiled. She might gripe when he kicked up a storm, but movement was a good thing, and she was always comforted when she felt him.
“Let’s find your daddy, kiddo.” Daddy. Wow. How far Regan had come from first thinking of Thanatos as nothing but a sperm donor, to being a father, and finally, a daddy.
She showered and dressed in one of the new outfits Limos had brought her, silently thanking the Horsewoman for not having terrible taste. Limos might dress in girly, bright things, but she’d chosen much less flashy clothing for Regan. The black fatigues-style maternity pants and olive and black top were neat and practical, and the black leather sandals added a feminine touch without being too dainty.
Hellhound on her heels, Regan headed to the great room, but was greeted only by silence. “Thanatos?” she called out.
A faint “In here,” came from the library, and she scooted inside to find Thanatos hunched over a large wood and leather object in the corner.
The hellhound plopped down on the floor behind her as she moved closer to Thanatos. “What are you doing?”
“Working on a project.” He glanced up, his gaze heating when his eyes met hers. She flushed, remembering what they’d done last night. “I made you some pancakes. And waffles. And bacon and eggs.” He gestured to the three covered platters on his desk. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, and you said you can’t cook.”
Her stomach growled. “I like it all. Thank you.”
She lifted one of the covers off a platter and tossed a strip of bacon to the hellhound before taking one for herself. And geez, was she really feeding demon dogs now? This baby was turning her all mushy and stupid. God, she hoped that wore off once it was born.
And once it was safely living with Gem and Kynan.
The thought that had once come so easily now made her stomach clench. She rubbed her belly, feeling the shifting movements under her palm. A foot or hand pressed up against hers, and her heart swelled.
I’d do whatever it took to make sure that being with me was what was best.
Regan wanted to be what was best. But could she make it happen?
“You aren’t eating,” Than murmured, not looking up from whatever he was doing. His hair hung down across his face, shielding his expression, but his bare arms flexed as he used slim metal tools to etch designs into hardened mahogany leather. “Will it spark your appetite to know that Viktor is innocent of plotting to kill our son?”
Thank God. She was relieved for the baby, but also for Thanatos. He’d needed that. Badly. “How do you know for sure?”
“I took him to Orelia, my tattoo artist. She didn’t find any deception in his actions. But I don’t suggest that you use your gift on his tattoo. Apparently, he wasn’t always a good guy.” Than looked over at her, one braid catching on his shoulder, and she had the urge to reach out and twirl it in her fingers. “Viktor will be taking the others one by one. Afterward, will you have a problem using your gift to read the tattoos? I was with Viktor for his, so Orelia could tell me about it, but I don’t have time to sit with everyone.”
“Of course,” she said. “It’ll be nice to be useful.” Taking a bite of bacon, she craned her neck to get a better look at what Than was doing. “Do you do this often?”
“Yep. I have a shed in the courtyard where I make historical reproductions. Keeps me calm. I need a distraction while I’m waiting for Viktor to come back with Artur.”
“He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”
When Than didn’t answer, she reached out and ran her finger over the curved wood base of the project he was working on. “It’s beautiful. What is it—” She snapped her mouth shut, finally seeing what he was working on.
A cradle. Thanatos was making a cradle.
“What do you think?” His voice was velvet soft as he ran his palm lovingly over the smooth lines of the exposed wood rockers and then across the finely tooled artwork in the leather that had been stretched over the frame.
Regan couldn’t speak. In the silence broken only by the hellhound’s panting breaths, her gaze flicked to the designs—animals, all in a fluid Celtic style.
Finally, she found her voice, but what could she say? Could he still be hoping to raise the child himself, even after his own servants had tried to kill the baby? Even though every evil being on the planet would be gunning to kill the baby in order to start the Apocalypse?
She got it now … she so got why he’d want to keep the baby. But until the threat from Pestilence was gone, neither of them could raise this child.
She settled for, “It’s beautiful. Amazing.”
He seemed to know what she was thinking, and very gently, he gripped her shoulders and turned her to him. “I know your plans for our son. You know I hate them. But we’ve fought too much as it is, so with the time we have until he’s born, we’re going to work through this.”
“That sounds so reasonable.” She gave him a small smile. “Not at all like the man who stormed Aegis Headquarters and kidnapped me.”
“Yeah.” He blew out a breath. “I was a little worked up.”
“It’s understandable, given what I’d done to you.”
“We’re past that. You’re the one who said we need to not take the easy way out. To talk about things.”
She inhaled sharply. Was she ready to talk? He was right; she’d said they needed to. Like normal people. Yes, because an Aegis warrior with demonic powers and the fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse were perfectly normal.
“Okay,” she said, bracing herself. “Since we need to talk, I want you to know that if things go well with Pestilence… you know, we stop him…” She counted out three pieces of bacon and fed them to the hound. Than waited patiently, which was weird. “So anyway, I was thinking that maybe we could work something out with the baby.”
Swallowing hard, Than closed his eyes. When he opened them, it was as if a tiny, new light glimmered in them. “We’ll beat him, Regan. We will. For now, let’s concentrate our energy on stopping this damned Apocalypse. We’ll figure out everything else after that.”
He was such a contradiction sometimes. His uncontrollable rages could mean death for thousands, and yet, when he was calm, he was one of the most reasonable, caring people she’d ever met. She couldn’t believe she’d once thought of him as a monster with a heart of ice. Now she’d seen that heart melt at the prospect of having a family, and somehow her own heart had opened up to let him and the baby in. But what if it was too late to figure out where their relationship stood?
Regan’s stomach wrenched. “We might not have much time.”
“Not ‘might’,” he said gravely. “Don’t. While I’m dealing with my vampires and keeping you safe, Limos and Arik have been working on a plan to trap our brother, and Ares is going to arrange for Idess to take him to Azagoth.”