it’ll be that one.”
“Would you be upset?”
“I don’t have any right to be upset.”
“That’s not what I asked.” His tone made his words a quiet demand.
“No.” She flushed a little. “You were right when you said I shouldn’t judge you and the way you cope with things.”
He reached up and brushed her hair away from her cheek, letting his hand linger, and her heart stuttered. His soothing touch made her achingly aware of his capacity for tenderness, and with each brush of his fingers, she craved more. “I didn’t say that, exactly.”
“Not exactly, but it’s what you meant. And you were right.” She rubbed against his hand like a needy cat. “I have a lot of experience fighting demons, but I have approximately zero normal life experience. And I have no room to judge in any case. I cope by rearranging the socks in your drawer and doing counting exercises.”
“Show me.”
“Show you how to rearrange socks?”
He chuckled. “No, the counting exercises.”
“It’s nothing special. Just pick a number you like. I tend to do things in threes.” She took his hand and placed it on the desk. “Now tap your fingers and count.”
“Tap?”
“Tap.”
He cocked an eyebrow, but his long fingers moved beneath hers. It struck her that as old as he was, they should have been rougher, more calloused. But his skin was smooth and supple, his hands well-shaped and so … capable.
“See,” she said hoarsely. “Don’t you feel calmer?”
His voice was husky, his mouth curved in a quirky smile. “Strangely, I’m feeling the opposite of calm.”
“You might be a big, bad warrior,” she huffed, as she drew her hand away, “but you suck at OCD.”
He laughed, a throw-back-his-head stunner. “Maybe you can show me how to rearrange socks then.”
“Oh, you’re hilarious.”
He waggled his brows. “I have my moments.”
More and more of those moments as they grew comfortable with each other, and Regan liked it. There had been too much ugliness between them and in the world. What terrified her was that she had no doubt more ugliness was coming.
Yes, she and Thanatos had rounded a bend in their relationship, and he might have made it sound like he and his siblings and The Aegis were making progress, but in her experience, just when things started looking good … well, that’s when things went to hell.
Twenty-six
Regan had come around. Thank God. Oh, she was still planning to give up their son if they didn’t stop Pestilence, but by now he knew that it wasn’t because she didn’t want the baby. He’d seen evidence that she loved the child all along, but now she was less certain that giving their son to Gem and Ky was the right thing to do.
Good, because Thanatos wasn’t going to let it happen. Regan might not believe he could keep their son safe from Pestilence and his forces, but once Than got the vampire situation straightened out, he’d have guards. He’d ask Cara for a pack of hellhounds. He’d hire a dozen dens of assassins. Hell, he’d build a freaking fortress if he had to.
He would have his son, and he’d keep him safe.
Which left another question. Would she want a role in their son’s life? Would she want more than that?
His heart skipped a beat, a crazy little flutter at the idea that he might actually get more than he’d ever hoped for in this life.
A family.
Ruthlessly, he shoved that thought out of his head as he stepped from the shower. He’d worked out while Regan shared breakfast with the hellhound, and now it was time to meet up with Kynan and the Guardians who should arrive at any moment.
Once he’d dressed in black jeans and a turtleneck, he found Regan in the library, a book in her lap—but her eyes were glued to the TV set.
She turned to him, her cheeks burning red. “What
Well, shit. This was a little embarrassing. But mostly because now he wanted to throw Regan on the desk and play out the scene for real.
“Yep.” Than watched a vampire on the screen fucking and sucking a human female while another vampire gnawed on her wrist. “Oh, and this is a good one. Muffy the Vampire Layer.”
“It looks professionally made.”
“It is. There’s a huge market for it.”
“Are the…blood participants willing? This woman… and the now-anemic one in the bedroom were running from the vampires earlier.”
“Sometimes the participants are willing,” he said, and then rolled his eyes at her gasp of outrage. “What? That’s half the turn-on for vampires. The hunting and take-down of the victim. Obviously, the females in this one are willing. They’re enjoying it.” He gestured to the screen with one hand and casually adjusted his erection with the other. “See, she’s having an orgasm.”
Regan turned the color of an aroused Sora demon. And if her scent was any clue, the aroused part was right on target. “And you watch this?”
Her huffy tone would have had more impact if a woman wasn’t moaning and crying out, “Oh, yes, yes,
“I seem to remember you enjoying the feel of my fangs sliding across your neck,” he murmured.
On screen, one of the males had dragged a female out of the bedroom and was rousing her by nuzzling the inside of her thigh, his fangs grazing her skin, his tongue flicking closer and closer to her center. When he covered her core with his mouth, Than had to bite his lip to stifle a groan. He hadn’t done that to Regan, and he suddenly wanted to… very bad. Like, his mouth watered and his fangs throbbed, and yeah, he was going to taste her when she came.
He eyed the desk and wondered how fast he could get her out of her clothes. An erotic growl slipped from between his lips, and he swung back to her, his gaze focused on her like a laser.
He was going to take her. Now.
She came to her feet and met him halfway across the room, splaying her hands on his chest and lifting her mouth to his. “Desk?” she whispered against his lips.
“We are
Carefully but urgently, he spun her around and lifted her onto the wood surface, not giving a shit that papers, pencils, and dishes from breakfast clattered to the floor. A snort came from the doorway, and quickly, before the damned hellhound could get into the room to clean up the damage, Than kicked the door closed. An unhappy yelp followed the slam of the door.
Regan sighed his name and reached for his pants, but just as her fingers started to grapple with the zipper, the distinct
“Jesus Christ,” he snarled. “Mother. Fuck.”
“Definitely same page.” Regan’s voice was husky and fierce, and his inner warrior whooped in approval.
“You Aegi have terrible timing.”
He tore away from Regan, unquenched lust burning him from the inside out. After nearly ripping the library door off its hinges, he stormed to the front door. Habit and instinct had him shoving Regan behind him as he armored up and opened the door.
A transport helicopter had set down about fifty yards from his keep. Men were bailing out of it, some in
