Lethal Rider
Page 32

“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 is this? Vampire porn?”
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 f**king 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, yes!” in the background. And if Regan wasn’t all breathless. And if Regan didn’t make those same sounds in bed. Her moans were a little deeper though, with a smoky, serrated edge.
“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 so on the same page,” he whispered back.
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 whup-whup of a helicopter vibrated through the keep’s thick walls.
“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 fatigues carrying weapons, and others more casually dressed, but without a doubt, these were Aegi. But where was Kynan?
Regan nudged him. “You can put away the sword. I know these people.”
Than looked down at the blade in his hand. He didn’t even remember drawing it. Cursing, he shoved the sword into its scabbard.
“Could you get rid of the armor, too? It’s not necessary, and it’s going to put them on the defensive.”
“Good. They should be.”
“Thanatos.” She tapped her foot in annoyance. “We’re not your enemies. Please do this. For me.”
Damn her. She knew exactly how to get what she wanted from him. That could never be a good thing.
Swiping his fingers over the crescent scar on his throat, he stepped out into the daylight as the armor melted away. “Halt.” The four guys in the lead froze, and the others followed suit. “Identify yourselves and your purpose.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Regan huffed. “Do you automatically revert to medieval speak in front of Guardians? That’s Lance, Juan, Takumi, and Omar. They’re Elders. The others I don’t recognize, but they’re definitely Guardians.”
Great. Good. But why the hell were they all here? He’d been expecting Kynan, and maybe Decker. Although it would be wise of Decker to not show up again. Ever.
“Where’s Kynan?” he asked the guys.
The one named Lance stepped forward. “He’s busy. You deal with us now.”
How the f**k did these people know where his keep was? How could they see it? He had magic in place that kept his home invisible to most human and demon eyes. Once someone had been escorted through the magical field, they could see the keep after that, but new people … not so much.
He supposed Kynan had given them the coordinates, but that didn’t explain how they would have been able to actually see the buildings.
“The Elders can come in,” he said. “The rest of you … stay.”
The four males came forward, and Regan greeted all but Lance with hugs. Jealousy and protectiveness nearly drove him mad, but ultimately, he was pretty damned proud of the way he didn’t rip their heads off and feed them to the two hellhounds slinking up behind them.
Regan shot Than a withering glare. “Could you tell the hounds not to eat my friends?”
“Sorry, boys,” he shouted to the mutts. “No snacks today. Go patrol for Pestilence.” The hounds snarled with ill-tempered tantrums, but they took off, howling their displeasure. The Guardians, meanwhile, looked like they might need a change of underwear. Funny.
He turned to the humans, who were standing in a semicircle in the center of the great room. “Explain. How can you see my keep?”
Lance smiled, and Than instantly hated him. There was something… sneaky about that one. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we brought Guardians and the qeres. We’ll leave the grunts and the rest of us will be out of your pissing range after we discuss some things with Regan.”
Arrogant sons of bitches. Tension winged through the air, and as much as Than wanted to pulverize these guys, he remembered that they were here to protect Regan. No matter what he might think of the bastards, she held them in high regard. She…needed them.
The protector in him, the male that would lay down his life for his mate and child, let out an injured growl at the idea that Regan needed these other males for anything, but the more civilized side of him understood. Sort of.
So he’d let them live for now.
“Are you okay, Regan?” Juan shuffled his feet, and Than caught a whiff of nerves. At least that one was smart. “Has he hurt you?”
People kept asking that. It was getting old.
“No.” Regan stepped between them, and Than resisted the urge to pull her back. “Trust me, Thanatos isn’t a threat.”
“Not to you.” Thanatos met each of the four Elders’ eyes. “But I’ll kill anyone who f**ks with what’s mine.”
“Dickhead,” Lance muttered.
Regan made a little growly noise that probably shouldn’t be sexy, but that cranked his engine again and had him wanting to drag her to the bedroom, caveman style, to finish what they’d started in the library.
After he strangled Lance with his own intestines.
He must have voiced his thoughts out loud, because Regan rounded on him, planted her palm on his chest, and got in his face. So. Fucking. Sexy.
“Manners, Horseman. It’s what separates us from … well, people like Lance.” She shot a glare at the Elder before turning back to Thanatos. “Could you give us a minute?”
He knew she needed to discuss Aegis business, and he understood that there were things he shouldn’t know—if his Seal broke, he could use the knowledge against them. So yeah, he got it.
But that didn’t mean he liked it. “You have five minutes,” he gritted out. He needed to check in with Ares and Limos anyway. He lowered his voice and put his lips to her ear, his blood still stirring so viciously that his fangs scraped her lobe. “After that, I need—”
Her hands slammed into his chest, the force not violent, but sensual. “I know what you need, Horseman.”
She did, didn’t she? What a remarkable woman. A rumbling purr rattled his chest even as he scowled at the Guardian intruders. Yup, he’d worked himself into a frenzy that Regan somehow understood.
Blood or seed … something was going to spill.
Once Thanatos and his storm cloud of energy was out of sight, Regan rounded on her fellow Elders. “What were you thinking, showing up here without Kynan? He should be the one dealing with the Horsemen.”
“And hasn’t that been the problem,” Lance said, and what was that supposed to mean?
Juan opened the front door and gestured outside. “Come on. We need a little more privacy than this.”
Shit. Whatever they needed so much privacy for couldn’t be good. “What’s going on?”
“Just trust us.” Juan walked out, and Regan followed, dying of curiosity.
The Guardians who had accompanied the Elders had spread out, all armed to the teeth and holding either crossbows or swords, their weapons’ belts packed with wooden stakes.
Lance cocked his head at the helicopter, where the side cargo door was wide open to reveal rows of seats. “Hop in.”
Pregnant women didn’t hop anywhere, and Regan stopped dead in her tracks. “Why?”
“The inside is rigged with a sound-dampening spell,” Juan said. “Whatever we say inside can’t be heard outside.” He glanced back at Omar, who had gone down on one knee just outside the keep’s door to tie his boot. “I know it seems like an extreme measure, but what we have to tell you is critically sensitive.”
A ramp had been placed at the base of the helo, and she awkwardly climbed into the huge chopper that appeared to be a modified military troop transport. Juan, Lance, and Takumi followed her inside, and when Juan slammed the door closed … and locked it, her gut dropped. In the next instant, the pilot started the rotor blades, and her heart joined her plummeting stomach.
“What are you doing?”