3 Lethal Rider-Lords Of Deliverance by Larissa Ione Page A

say that when it comes down to it, I’d sell my soul—hell, I’d sell
your
soul, to keep my mate and kids safe. I’d do whatever it took. I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t. You’ve got a kid on the way, so think about how far you’d go to protect him.” Shade spun on his heel. “I’ll tell E to come by. Inthe meantime, keep Regan safe.” The demon disappeared through the front door.
    Keep Regan safe?
What did Shade think Thanatos was trying to do?
    Needing to make sure she was still okay, he quietly pushed open the door to peek into the bedroom. Regan was sitting on the bed, one hand clutching a sandwich, the other stroking her belly. A hint of a smile curved her lips as she looked down, and no, that wasn’t the picture of a woman who was prepared to easily give up a baby she didn’t want. That was the picture of a mother, and even if she didn’t admit it to herself, Regan loved the child.
    The knowledge was both a relief and a fist to the gut. How could she love it, yet be so willing to give it up? Was it because the baby was his? Did she hate him so much that she didn’t want the reminder toddling around behind her?
    Cursing, he stalked into his library. In a fit of temper, he swiped his arm across one of the shelves. Books, baskets, and baubles crashed to the floor. Something metallic clattered across the tiles. Reseph’s iPod.
    Thanatos scooped it up, the smooth, black case so cold in his hand. Reseph had loved the thing, which was why it had been buried in the leather basket—Than had hidden it from him as a joke. Well, sort of. Reseph had often driven them all crazy by singing country songs at the top of his lungs. Sure, he’d actually had a great voice, but one could only take so many hours of twang.
    “What are you doing?” Regan’s voice came from behind him, and crazily, his pulse jumped.
    Thanatos gave a casual shrug, but his body wasn’t fooled, not when he saw her in the doorway, still in his T-shirt and a pair of his sweats she’d cinched beneath herbelly. No female had ever worn his clothes, and an oddly primal instinct got him all growly and possessive at the idea that something of his was both on her and in her.
    “Nothing,” he muttered, tossing the mp3 player onto his desk.
    “‘Nothing’ involves making a mess of your library?” She walked over to the desk, her bare feet not making a sound on the stone floor. Even as pregnant as she was, her confident grace wasn’t diminished.
    “You need socks.”
    She blinked. “What does that have to do with the messy library?”
    “Nothing. But I don’t want your feet to get cold.”
    A soft smile curved her lips, and he wished she wouldn’t do that, because a smile like that could disarm him eventually. “You’re an odd man, Thanatos Horseman.” She picked up the iPod. The screen lit up, and her eyebrows lifted. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a country music kind of guy.”
    “I’m not. Reseph is. Was. And you should be in bed.”
    “I feel fine, and if I lay down for too long, my hips hurt.” She eyed the iPod again. “Alan Jackson. George Strait. Jimmy Buffett. Conway Twitty. Wow. Not a single rock band.”
    “Reseph was the flightiest person I’ve ever met, but when he latched onto something, he went all out. Totally single-minded. He even had a couple of favorite country bars where he’d go to dance. He loved to two-step.”
    Regan’s nose wrinkled. “I can’t imagine him doing anything…normal. Or nice.”
    “In a strange way, he was the most normal of all of us. He was definitely the nicest.”
    “I’m having a hard time believing that.” She shot him a sideways glance. “You know, seeing how he tried to kill me today.”
    If that had happened… Thanatos couldn’t even go there in his thoughts. He was intimate with death the way regular people were intimate with their lovers, but it had been four thousand years since he’d experienced a personal loss. He was pretty sure he would react …