“I’d bring you the tattoo artist, but she’s dead.”
“I know that. But it wouldn’t matter. I want yours.”
“Why?”
Azagoth hissed. “My reasons are my own. But I assure you that you’ll be giving me something I’ve desired for a long, long time.”
Thanatos was pretty sure Azagoth could get a damned tattoo anytime he wanted, so clearly, there was something special he wanted from Than’s, specifically. Which probably meant that giving them to him would be a bad, bad idea.
Whatever. “Done.”
“This one,” Azagoth said, stroking his finger over the winged serpent on his hip.
Agony shot through him as the thing ripped off his flesh, and then came the agony of being slammed with the memories of what it had been suppressing. The images and emotions were sharp, acute, and he staggered at the blast from the day nearly a thousand years ago when he’d slaughtered a legion of men whose symbol had been a winged snake.
“And this one.”
Thanatos hissed, the pangs of torment even greater this time. Azagoth had taken the bow that dulled the memories of killing his father. A dozen more times Azagoth took tattoos, each one nearly taking Than to his knees. He wondered if Regan could feel his pain, or if she was shielded from his emotions when the armor was gone.
Finally, Azagoth stepped back and ripped open his shirt. Fourteen of Thanatos’s tats decorated the fallen angel’s chest.
“All of the beauty, without all of the pain,” Azagoth mused. “Awesome.”
“Speak for yourself.”
Azagoth tilted his head, studying Than with those assessing eyes. “I imagine you’re in a lot of pain right now.”
“I’ll live.” Than stepped into his pants.
“Yes, you will. You’ll live the rest of your life without getting another tattoo.”
Than paused while shrugging into his shirt. “Why not?”
“Because you have spent five thousand years cheating. The deaths you cause should mean something. They should cause you misery. Instead, you bury them and feel nothing. It pisses me off.”
Jesus. Regan had said the same thing. He’d dismissed her at the time, because as a human she couldn’t possibly understand five thousand years of killing. Shame heated his face.
Azagoth’s anger quieted, his voice doing the same. “I understand why you did it. You grew up with peaceful people. Death and violence was especially hard on you. And you, of all your siblings, saw the most of both. You compensated in the only way you could. But you can’t do that anymore. That’s the deal. That, and you will promise to never make another daywalker. When those heavenly assholes come to me and ask why I didn’t destroy the vampires, I can say that since I can’t destroy you, you could make more daywalkers even if I took out the entire race, so you promised not to make more, blah, blah. It’s a good argument. Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it.”
Azagoth cocked his head. “You said that so quickly. But how can you guarantee you won’t make more, if you’ve made your vampires during uncontrollable death rages?”
Thanatos closed his eyes, caught in Azagoth’s cleverly spun web. “I’ll manage. I’ll meditate, or travel with hellhounds who can bite me, or…” He opened his eyes and met Azagoth’s pitiless gaze. “Please.”
“Fool.” Azagoth snorted. “Haven’t you learned anything in your ancient life? There’s a price for everything. You create a life, you pay. Think back to when you first created a vampire.”
Than dredged the recesses of his brain, coming up with a lot of filth. But there was the one memory, the spark that had started it all. “I’d been cursed as a Horseman. I had fangs, and I was angry. I bit a guy, drained him. He came back as a daywalker.”
“Were you in a death rage?”
“No. Those hadn’t started yet—” Than sucked in a massive, painful breath. “They didn’t start until after I turned the first daywalker. They didn’t… holy shit. I’m the reason I go crazy sometimes?”
“How should I know? Do I look like a god?” Azagoth rolled his eyes. “I’m just saying you have to find the cost behind every action. Make a daywalker, go on murderous rampages. Whatever.” Azagoth shrugged. “I don’t give a shit either way. I just want your damned word, and I want you to keep it.”
“You got it,” Than breathed. Damn, all of his rages made sense now. They’d fed into each other in a cycle he didn’t know how to break. Make a vamp, which caused rages, which caused vamps, which caused rages … son of a bitch.
“Also, you should know that in the future, the emotions you would normally transfer into a tattoo will now transfer to Regan. She’ll feel your pain as much as you do.”
“What? No! You can’t do that—”
“I can do what I want, Horseman,” Azagoth snapped. “There is a price for everything. If this is too steep for you to pay, then collect your corpse and get the f**k out of here.”
“You bastard.” Thanatos lifted Regan into his arms. “I agree.” Regan might feel his pain, but at least she wouldn’t be hanging out with demons for all eternity. She would go to Heaven and be happy. Free.
“Good choice.” Azagoth snapped his fingers. “Armor. Now.”
Thanatos was so glad this asshat wasn’t his father. Although Azagoth was the last lead they’d had, and now… they had nothing. Today they’d lost a brother and a father.
And Regan.
Thanatos touched his armor scar, and his bone plates folded into place. Instantly he sensed Regan, and breathed a sigh of relief.
Goodbye, he said silently, feeling a hot sting of tears in his eyes. You’re going to Heaven now. But remember that I love you. I hope you can hear that. I’ll find you someday, Regan. I swear to you, I’ll find you.
“What the f**k are you upset about?” Azagoth bit out the words in a disgusted rush. “I’d think Horsemen wouldn’t be such pussies.” He flicked his finger against Than’s shoulder, and the sensation of having Regan inside him was gone.
He was alone.
“Now get out.” Azagoth turned back to the parade of souls in the tunnel, and they started moving again.
In Than’s arms, Regan’s body jerked, and she sucked in a gasping breath, startling Thanatos so thoroughly he almost dropped her.
“Regan?”
She blinked up at him. “Where are we?”
He crushed her against him in a smothering embrace, a whoop of laughter making Azagoth turn around and roll his eyes.
“Why are you still here?” Azagoth sounded seriously annoyed. “This was what you wanted, yes?”
“Yes,” he shouted. “God, yes!”
“Thanatos?” Regan’s voice was muffled against his chest. “Squashing…me.”
“Sorry, baby.” He eased back a little, but just enough that he could kiss her senseless. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re alive. And perfect.”
“And still squished.”
Grinning like an idiot, he set her down, although he would prefer carrying her back to his place. He never wanted to stop touching her again. She didn’t seem to notice that she was still wearing the hospital gown, which was caked with dried blood and gaping open. Than tucked her against him, but Azagoth sighed, took off his shirt, and handed it to Thanatos. He held it up like a curtain as she stripped out of the gown and then slipped into the shirt, which hung down mid-thigh.
“Thank you, Father,” Idess said.
Thanatos repeated the sentiment. “Thank you, Azagoth. I owe you.”
“Yes,” Azagoth said silkily, “you do.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “Now get out. And be careful with her. She’s immortal until your Seal breaks, but she’s not special in any other way. She’s a normal, wimpy human who will suffer cuts, broken bones, and eviscerations like anyone else. She just won’t die from them.”
“You’re wrong, Reaper,” Thanatos said. “She’s special in every way.”
Forty
Thanatos couldn’t stop grinning as he gated himself, Regan, and Idess back to his keep. “I can’t thank you enough, Idess. If you ever need anything, come to me, and it’s yours.”
“I might take you up on that someday,” she said. “Now, are we going in? I’d like to meet your son.”
Regan took his hand and practically dragged him through the front door. Inside, everyone who had come for the birth was still there. A pall hung over them, the sadness in the air so thick Than could eat it with a spoon.
“Yo,” he called out. “Someone want to bring my son to his mother?”
Stunned expressions quickly veered to ecstatic ones, and suddenly Thanatos and Regan were surrounded. There were hugs and laughs, and someone passed Regan a robe. Than eased out of the crowd to allow her some time with Kynan and Decker, but he did watch when Cara brought the baby over and handed him to Regan.
And then the woman who swore she wasn’t mother material gathered the infant in her arms and broke into tears and smiles.
“Congratulations.” The rumbling, unfamiliar voice came from the male who had stepped beside Thanatos while he’d been watching Regan.
He turned to the vampire he’d seen at Underworld General. The guy was almost tall enough to meet Than’s gaze levelly. Black hair fell in a thick curtain to his waist, and the cruel twist to his mouth would make anyone think twice about giving him shit about it. Anyone but Than.
“If you’re here to cause trouble, daywalker, know that I’ll take you out as easily as I made you.”
“A year ago,” he said slowly, “there’d have been trouble.”
Thanatos glanced over at Regan and warmed at the way she was holding their son like she’d been cuddling babies for years. “What changed?”
“Me.” He held out his hand, which seemed so … odd … given that Than had, at one point, taken his blood, almost certainly against his will. “I’m Vladlena’s mate. Nathan.”
Than’s body stilled as a hazy memory surfaced from … two centuries ago? “The alleyway …”
Than had been fighting a demon, and in a fog of bloodlust, he’d seen the man watching in horror, and he’d attacked.
“Yup. I saw you at Underworld General last year, and recognized you as my sire.”
“So you do work there? Eidolon lied to me?”
Nathan shook his head. “Nah. I don’t work there. I only go to the hospital to see Lena. If Eidolon didn’t tell you he knew me, it’s because I’ve asked everyone who knows what I am to keep my secret. I learned early on that night-crawlers seem to hate daywalkers.”
“And vice versa,” Than said wryly, noting the vampire’s use of the term “nightcrawlers.”
One thick shoulder lifted in a casual shrug. “I was at the hospital as a patient the first time I saw you, and when Lena told me you were a Horseman, I thought I was mistaken about who you were.” His gaze pierced Than right in his guilty conscience. “Then I saw you again a few days ago when I was bringing Lena lunch, and there was no doubt.”
Well, wasn’t this awkward. Than had a lot of daywalkers to find and apologize to. Oh, he’d kill the ones who had planned to side with Pestilence and kill his son, but he did want to start fresh with the others. They no longer had to fear that he’d either kill them or force them into servitude.
He cleared his throat, but it didn’t scour away his contrition. “I’m sorry for what I did.”
“I hated you for a long time,” the vampire admitted. “But now I just want to offer my thanks. I’ve been blessed more than I can say.”
Thanatos turned back to Regan, who was his until his Biblical Seal broke, which he prayed wouldn’t happen for a long, long time. “Me too, Nathan. Me too.”
Reaver could get in some serious trouble for what he was about to do. Hell, he could get into trouble just for being here.
Here was Sheoul-gra, the holding tank for demon and evil human souls. Here was a dark, steamy cavern where the occupants were as solid as stone, as cruel as a socio-pathic teenage boy, and no one was happy.
“Angel.”
Ignoring the hisses and insults slung at him by the surrounding demons, Reaver strode up to the speaker, who stood on a basalt platform, the whip in his hand dripping blood. “Hades.”
Hades cocked a black eyebrow. “Whose dick did you suck to get permission to come here? Azagoth isn’t one for the g*y shit. I’ve tried.”
There really was nothing worse than a fallen angel when it came to crudeness. But yeah, Reaver had been forced to go to Azagoth to gain entry. What price the Reaper would extract was yet to be determined.
“It doesn’t matter how I got here. I don’t suppose you have a new resident named Gethel.”
“Is she hot?” At Reaver’s flat stare, Hades rolled his eyes. “Fine. No Gethel.”
Damn. Then she was still alive. And who knew what trouble she could wreak in the human realm by the time Reaver got back.
“Next question. Where’s Reseph?”
“Reseph?” Hades’s eyes went flat and cold as a blade left in the snow. “His body is in the cavern behind me. His mind… I don’t know where that is.”
Reaver started for the cave entrance, a gaping maw of dripping teeth streaked with blood. A malevolent growl brought Reaver to a halt. “Tell it to let me pass, Hades.”