The nightmare she’d had about Thanatos killing her flashed through her head. She hadn’t had that dream since she’d been here, but now the images came back, as vivid as they’d been every night for months. She’d been convinced the nightmare was a warning, and maybe it was, but if so, she had to take precautions.
“The Bible, Ky.”
He let out a long, frustrated breath, but he bent over the cradle and once again lay his palm on the book.
“Now, swear that no matter what happens to me, no matter what Thanatos does to me, you will not make any attempt to take his son away.” She glanced at Decker. “And you won’t let anyone else try either.”
“I swear,” Ky muttered.
“Good,” she said brightly. “Now, I think we should prepare some qeres-coated weapons.”
“We don’t have any qeres. Lance and the others have it.”
“Nope. I grabbed a vial of it when I was on their ship.”
Decker grinned. “Awesome.”
“Now we just have to hope one of the Horsemen can hunt that f**ker down.”
Regan touched her fingers to her belly as another cramp struck. “And something tells me they need to hurry. You might want to put Eidolon on notice. I think the little pony is wanting out.”
Pestilence was such a f**king bastard.
Thanatos had experienced a lot of death in his life, but this… this went beyond death. This was carnage. And how the hell had Pestilence hijacked his Harrowgate like that? Whatever he’d done, it had trapped Thanatos in Finland, unable to even summon the gate again.
Unable to get back to Regan.
He had no doubt that whatever was going on at Ares’s place had been a ruse to lure Than into using the tainted Harrowgate, but he also had no doubt that whatever Ares was dealing with was very real, and very violent.
His fury blended with the effect of all the death around him, leaving his ability to think as fragmented as a shattered window. He tried to call Kynan to check on Regan, but his rage was too encompassing, and he crushed the phone in his hand. After that, only the need to kill was left in his thoughts.
And there was so much to kill.
Here on the outskirts of Helsinki, humans were in the throes of some sort of malady that made them go crazy and slaughter each other. Thanatos stood among the remains of a family killed by their father in their own house, his scythe dripping with blood. Than had taken down the father, but not before the man had hacked his wife and three sons to death.
His scalp prickled, and he whirled as a Harrowgate opened up across the living room from Than. Pestilence stepped out, na**d and dappled with gore. That was disturbing enough, but what truly made Thanatos’s chest cavity grow cold was his brother’s appearance. This wasn’t the male who had appeared human even after his Seal had broken.
This was a demon. A beast with eyes as black as tar, skin as pale and veiny as marble, and elongated claws that could gut a killer whale. Hatred and evil had ravaged everything that had once been Reseph, right down to his appearance.
Pestilence hissed, his fangs a good inch longer than they’d ever been. Jesus. “You enjoying this? You like wading knee-deep in blood and guts, you f**ker?”
“Reseph.” Than made one last plea to the demon who used to be his brother. “You’ve got to be in there somewhere.”
“He’s gone,” Pestilence roared. “When will you a**holes get that through your thick skulls? He’s gone, and I’m sick of all the goddamned reminders of him, of you, of all that he cared about. I’m wiping the slate clean and starting over. Your whelp is next on my list.”
Protective fury shuddered through Than. “You will never touch my child.”
“Oh, I will. Even if I didn’t need to kill him to break your Seal, I’d kill him for fun. For spite. To ruin your f**king life.” He cocked his head. “Though maybe I don’t need to. With your temper, you’ll probably kill him yourself. That would be awesome.”
As much as Than wanted to think he could refuse Pestilence’s bait, his grip on his scythe was so tight that the handle seemed to fuse to his flesh. Maybe because Pestilence had voiced the concern Thanatos had been trying to deny; that he might be a danger to his own child. The dead children on the floor, victims of their own father, slammed it all home like a baseball bat to the skull.
The man on the floor had probably been a good, loving father, but in his mindless rage, he’d slaughtered everyone he’d loved.
Thanatos had been fooling himself about his ability to control himself, hadn’t he? Yes, with Regan his needs morphed from kill to sex, but what if his son didn’t come equipped with some sort of Thanatos-proof safety feature?
And the very fact that Regan could bring him down … he liked it, needed it, but Christ, what she’d said back at his place was sitting on him like a log. Was he using her ability to calm him the way The Aegis had used her gifts? He’d fallen for her, had fallen for her generosity, her laugh, the way she could spar with him and hold her own, both physically and verbally. But if he was using her, he was no better than The Aegis.
Would he be using his son the same way? Putting an innocent baby in danger because Thanatos needed what a child could provide… love, someone to keep him company, someone to absolve Than of his sins?
“What’s the matter, brother? Did I say something to upset you?”
Thanatos turned away from the thing that used to be his brother, needing a second to get his head back in the game. He might be a danger to his own son, but Pestilence was a much greater one, and Than was pretty damned tired of being two moves behind the evil bastard.
Get him to talk.
“You don’t want me to kill my son,” Than said, putting a strangled note in his voice. “You want to do it yourself. Probably in some elaborate ritual.”
“I do love a good ritual.”
Than looked up, doing his best sorrowful brother imitation. “You love an audience. Even as Reseph you wanted people to pay attention to you. How many shrines have you built to yourself, Pest? How many idiots have you fooled into thinking that if they just attend the great sacrifice of Death’s son, they’ll gain power and wealth?”
Pestilence drew his finger through a splatter of blood on the granite counter separating the kitchen from the living room. “Only a select few will be in the chamber for your son’s slaying, but I’ll present his still-beating heart to tens of thousands.”
“Drinks and food for all, huh?”
“I’ll have a glass of your favorite champagne waiting for you to join us.”
“Even after my Seal is broken, you know I’ll want to see my son.”
“I’m counting on it.” Pestilence licked the blood off his finger. “You’ll be desperate to rid yourself of your past and of anything personal that made you humiliatingly soft. And when our forces of evil see you laughing over your son’s body as it grows cold on my altar…” He closed his eyes as if imagining the ecstasy of it all.
Than tightened his grip on his scythe and tensed to strike. But as he started the swing, a gate opened a few feet away, and Pestilence wheeled out of striking distance of both Thanatos and the gate. Ares emerged, followed by Limos, both armored, both spoiling for a fight.
“So we’re all here,” Pestilence snarled. “Ares, you must have found the gifts I left for you in Greece.”
“You twisted f**k.” Ares strode forward, the veins in his temples throbbing. “You sick goddamned son of a bitch.”
Limos shot a glance at Than. “Pestilence slaughtered all of Cara’s hellhounds on the island except the new pup, because he was with her, and Hal, because he was with Ares. Then he came to my place and killed the hounds there.” Her voice deepened, warping with rage. “And he hung every one of my staff from the trees.”
“Like Christmas ornaments,” Pestilence said. “You know how I love Christmas.” He turned back to Thanatos, who swore the bastard’s eyes went even blacker. “Did you all enjoy that Harrowgate trick?”
“How did you do that?” Ares demanded.
“I have grown stronger than you can even imagine.” The black in Pestilence’s eyes swirled now, mixing with crimson and flecks of white. “I can do almost anything with a spell and a blood sacrifice. To compromise your Harrowgates temporarily, all I needed was someone important to you all. Ares, did you notice any of your Ramreels missing? No? You might take roll call. Limos, remember that orphan werewolf boy you befriended in Argentina? The one you took shoes and books to last month?” He turned to Than. “And you… I know how much Orelia meant to you.”
Damn him. He’d seen her less than twelve hours ago with Viktor. She’d been fine, if not her usual creepy, eyeless self. She wasn’t a friend, for sure, but he’d known her for thousands of years, and he’d miss her. No doubt she didn’t deserve whatever hell Pestilence had put her through.
Not to mention that without her, he was going to be an emotional wreck. The tattoos that helped keep him sane would be a thing of the past.
In a high-speed surge, Than swung his scythe, but Pestilence leaped high, avoiding the wicked blade and simultaneously striking out with his foot to knock Limos to the ground.
Ares heaved his sword in a massive arc, but once again, Pestilence evaded the strike. Suddenly, his bow was in his clawed hand and he’d armored up, and before Than could so much as blink, an arrow punched through Limos’s armor and pinned her to the wall. Another arrow pierced Ares’s neck with such force that he tumbled across the floor.
Son of a—Pestilence’s strength and abilities had morphed to levels Than would have thought impossible.
Thanatos dove at him and hooked his knee with the scythe, but Pestilence remained on his feet. Something crunched down on the back of Than’s neck, and pain became an electric shock that knifed down his spine and up into his skull. Every bone seemed to shatter in a burst of white-hot agony.
He clenched his teeth against the pain, fighting to keep from going blind from the bright stars circling his vision. Warm, sticky blood bathed him, and around him, he heard grunts, shouts, curses. And then Pestilence’s voice was in his ear.