Lethal Rider

Yikes. He’d hit that nail on the head. “I didn’t know about their capture, Than. Neither did Kynan. He was just as pissed as I was. It was stupid of us to do that.”

He stared at her as if gauging the truth of what she’d said, and then he jerked his head toward the food. “Eat.”

Resigned, she turned her attention to the food, and now that she got a good look at everything, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

The table was a buffet of roast beef, fried chicken, spaghetti, enchiladas, a variety of side dishes, including a leafy green salad, pasta salad, steamed vegetables, macaroni and cheese, three kinds of breads, and two soups.

“This could feed an army,” she said, even as she dug into the mac and cheese—her favorite.

She loaded her plate with a scoop of everything except the roast beef, and it was only after she’d taken a dozen bites that she realized Thanatos wasn’t eating. He was just … watching her.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

His eyes darkened, and again, she expected some typical male answer full of subtext, an “Oh, yeah, I’m hungry, all right,” but this man was full of surprises.

“I’ll eat after I’m sure you’ve had enough.”

“Why?”

He glanced down at his empty plate and then back at her. “Because my people…the people who raised me… made sure pregnant women ate first and got the best food.”

Something fluttered in her chest. How could he be so rough and angry one minute, and yet respectful and attentive the next? She felt her guard slipping with every caring gesture and word, and it occurred to her that the danger he presented to her might not be merely physical.

She forced herself to concentrate on the food before she let her mind wander into places it didn’t belong. “But there’s so much here. Far more than I could eat in a month.” The baby wriggled, and she revised that thought. “A week, anyway.” When Than didn’t seem inclined to budge, she gestured to the platter laden with roast beef slices. “Beef hasn’t sat well with me for the last couple of months, so please, go ahead.”

Thanatos inclined his head in a polite nod and loaded his plate with beef and gravy. “Do you have cravings?”

“Food,” she said, and there went the fluttering again at his low chuckle. “Any food. You name it, I want it.” She stabbed a piece of chicken with her fork. “I try to eat as large a variety as I can so the little guy develops a taste for lots of different ethnic dishes. I read somewhere that a varied diet can prevent picky eaters, both in the womb and then later when toddlers are eating solids.” Than looked at her as if she’d grown another head. “What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“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.”