He hauled her against him, careful not to put too much pressure on her belly. A soft moan escaped her, and he swallowed it with one of his own. Her body felt good on his, and even her extra curves fit him well.

There was a pounding on the door, followed by Ares’s gruff, “Yo, Than.”

Reluctantly, or maybe gratefully, Thanatos broke off the kiss and shouted at his brother. “Hold on.”

He fumbled in his back pocket for the leather-wrapped blade he’d tucked away last night and shoved it unceremoniously into Regan’s hands.

“My dagger?”

He nodded. “It might not be of use against Pestilence. He’s apparently built up a tolerance against the hellhound venom you coated it with. But it’s better than nothing. And it should work if—”

“If your Seal breaks.”

“Yeah. And Regan… don’t be afraid to use it against me.” Her eyes flipped up to meet his, the gravity of his words clearly setting in. “I have to go.”

“To get your tattoo?” Her voice was both breathless and bitter.

“No,” he said, just as bitterly. “To do things that will require more ink.”

That took the wind out of her sails. “I’m sorry.” She glanced down at the floor, and f**k, didn’t Eidolon just tell him to not upset her? And what had he done at his first opportunity?

“No, I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Regan’s eyes flared, and her mouth fell open. Wasn’t it awesome that he was such a dick that an apology shocked the hell out of someone?

“Dammit,” he breathed. “I have to go, but I won’t …” He looked up at the wood ceiling beams as if they could help him out here. “I won’t get the tat.” More awesome, he’d turned into a chick.

“Really?” She sounded so hopeful that it completely threw him off balance.

“Yeah. Whatever you want.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why? You’re being way too nice.”

“Maybe I feel bad about not believing you about being in danger from my vampires.” And actually, yeah, he did.

He shouldn’t have written off her Guardian instincts so easily… she was a Guardian for a reason, and as much as he hated The Aegis, he couldn’t deny that it had been around for centuries because its members weren’t complete idiots. Not all of them, anyway.

“Who did it?” she asked.

Thanatos bit down on a snarl. “Dariq. He’s been with me for almost nine hundred years.”

The daywalker had barely awakened from his turning, had been confused and starving, when Than had given him the choice of serving him or dying. Dariq had chosen death.

Instead of killing Dariq, Than had taken pity on the new vamp and brought him back to his keep so the other daywalkers could teach him how to live.

Obviously, Thanatos’s rare moment of compassion had been a mistake. Was the a**hole paying Thanatos back for keeping him alive, or was this truly about killing Thanatos’s son and starting the Apocalypse?

Time to get to the bottom of this.

“Is there anything I can do?” Regan asked, with such sincerity that he had the sudden urge to gather her in his arms and thank her.

He was so addled. “Just stay safe,” he said gruffly.

“I’d be safer if there were Guardians here with me.”

“You won’t need them. I’m arranging for extra protection. That’s why Ares is here.”

She sighed. “It’s not just about protection. It’s about having a friendly face around here. Someone who’s on my side.”

As if he were the enemy. “I’m on your side.”

“No,” she said softly, “you’re on the baby’s side. I’d like…you know…a friend.” Her voice cracked at that last part, and Decker’s image popped into his head.

The scorpion tattoo on his throat undulated, the stinger jabbing at him with a vengeance. “Who?”

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out, as if she didn’t know the answer to his question. And too late, he remembered what she’d said at dinner about keeping busy and having no social life. Oh, and her colleagues calling her shitspawn. Her reaction pretty much confirmed his suspicions that she had no friends.

They were both such outsiders, weren’t they?

Finally, she muttered, “Never mind.”

Ares pounded on the door again. “I don’t have all day. Some of us have an Apocalypse to go to.”

Strangely torn between wanting to make Regan feel better—even if he didn’t know how—and getting the hell away from her before he did more damage, Than hesitated. “Regan—”

“Go,” she said. “I need to call Kynan anyway. And I have things I can do in your library.”

Feeling as if he’d been dismissed—she was good at that—Than opened the bedroom door to find Ares standing in the hall accompanied by two hellhounds, their claws digging into the stone floor.

Ares didn’t waste time or mince words. “Do you know how many of your vamps are involved?”

“No, but I’m about to find out.” Than dug his cell from his pocket and worked on a text to Kynan as he spoke. “I put Dariq in the dungeon until I could interrogate him. I’m restricting the others to their quarters until I get to the bottom of this.” And he would get to the bottom of it if he had to put every one of them through the torture chamber. “Tell me you’re here to keep an eye on Regan for me.”

Ares nodded. “Limos and I can take turns, but I brought a hound to help out when we can’t.”

Thanatos eyed the two beasts. Ares might have decided they made great house pets, but Than wasn’t convinced. They seemed to have a lot of accidents, and not the, Oops, Fido took a piss on the floor, kind. With hellhounds, it was more of the, Oops, Fido ate my neighbor, type.

“They hate Pestilence,” Ares reminded him. “Anything Pestilence wants, the hellhounds will fight against.”

“And Pestilence wants Regan and my son dead.” Than nodded decisively. “Fine. The mutts can stay.”

Ares told hellbeast One to stay at the bedroom door, and then hellbeast Two joined them as they headed to the dungeon.

The smell of blood hit Thanatos at the top stair. The stench of death hit him halfway down. And at the bottom, the rank odor of yet another betrayal struck him like a blow from a battering ram.

Dariq had been staked and hung from chains, the message to Thanatos clear.

Dariq will not talk.

What was also clear was that Dariq was not the only traitor in the house. Someone had killed Dariq to keep him from naming names.

Seventeen

Kynan arrived at Than’s place within fifteen minutes of Regan’s call. He met her in the library, not bothering to say hi or sit down, although he did pause at the sight of her hellhound babysitter until she told the thing Ky was a friend. The beast still reached out with a claw and clipped Ky’s jeans as he walked by.

“I was planning on coming today before you called,” he said, shooting an annoyed glance at the hellhound. “Eidolon said you were poisoned. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. And, as you can see, I have a permanent guard.”

“Thanatos texted. Said I could bring some Guardians for you. He specifically asked for a female so you’d have someone to talk to.”

Regan’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, and it’s about time. We’ll arrange to have some brought here by tomorrow.” He handed her a plastic grocery bag. “Sorry this is hit and run, but I have to go. We’ll make sure you get some Guardians.” He nodded at the bag in her hand. “Three hundred years ago, nearly forty Guardians died to get that book, so I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do. And thank you again.”

Ky took off, and Regan climbed back up the stepladder to reach for the book she’d been after before Ky arrived.

“Regan! What in the nine rings of hell are you doing?” Thanatos’s roar didn’t surprise Regan, but the hellhound lying near the library door let out a startled bark.

Calmly, Regan shifted her weight on the top rung of the stepladder. “There really are nine rings of hell? I thought that was fiction.”

“It is.” Than strode into the room and got as close as he possibly could without touching her, although his hands came up to bracket her hips. “Get down. You’re going to fall and hurt yourself or the baby.”

Clutching her prize, Regan stepped down, wobbling just enough that Thanatos caught her around the h*ps to steady her. For a long second, they stood like that, as if they were both confused to find themselves in an almost-embrace, and weren’t sure what to do about it.

Regan cleared her throat. “Happy now?”

“No.” Thanatos’s hands lingered on her waist, and the pleasant, warm sensation that filtered through her whenever he touched her returned.

“Why does that happen?” she asked. “The warmth. It’s got something to do with the baby, doesn’t it?”

Thanatos stepped back, his cheeks pink with a hint of a blush. “Ares experiences certain effects when he’s close to his agimortus—Cara. The baby is affecting me, too.”

“The same way?”

His gaze dropped to her belly. “Similar. My armor doesn’t soften, but when I’m close, the sensation of death around the world is muted.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Very.” His blond brows dipped together in a contemplative frown. “I hadn’t realized it, but I haven’t felt that kind of quiet since I was a boy.”

It was hard to imagine Thanatos as a child, doing normal things like playing. And laughing. But she was glad she could give him a measure of peace. “Did you have a good childhood?”

“The best.” A wistful smile curved the corners of his mouth, one that cracked his hardened, immortal warrior exterior and exposed a man with normal memories and emotions. Without thinking, she reached up and brushed the backs of her fingers across his cheek, wanting to feel the man and not the warrior.