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Twenty-six

Regan hated weddings. Seriously hated them. Not only did she despise sitting through the boring-ass ceremony, she didn’t understand the point of spending a ton of money, mostly on other people, when the money could be better spent on a down payment for a house or for the honeymoon. Why start off a marriage in debt?

Especially when most marriages ended in divorce anyway. At least if you spent the money on the honeymoon, you’d have several days in a place you probably loved, even if it was with the asshole you ended up divorcing.

People said she was cynical. A pessimist. She wasn’t. She was a realist.

But in this case, not a lot of planning had gone into the event, and the Horsemen seemed to have money to burn, and Regan hadn’t been required to dress up. Even better, this wasn’t your usual wedding ceremony. This was more like a big party, with supernatural beings as guests.

The great hall had been turned into a fantasy, lit with a thousand candles, fir trees draped in lights and tinsel, and confetti splashed on tables and shelves. In the kitchen, Than’s vampires and Ares and Limos’s servants were preparing hors d’oeuvres for the reception, which really was going to be a liquor-and-food fest.

That was assuming that the ceremony went off without a hitch.

Though the pre-wedding mood had been mostly uplifting, there had been an 0em" widthundercurrent of worry—enough that Sin and Lore had used their contacts to hire an entire den of assassins to act as security, and Cara had enlisted the help of several hellhounds to patrol the grounds. Only one was inside—a floppy-eared drooly pup named Hal that was clumsier than a drunken, three-legged moose. And actually, he might be drunk; Regan had caught him twice with his nose in the champagne fountain.

Then there was Thanatos, who definitely wasn’t drunk. The man was a study in grace and control as he stood near the stage where Limos and Arik were facing each other and saying their vows, his silky blond hair framing his angular face, the braids at the temple only adding to his savage handsomeness. His black tux stretched over thick shoulders and hugged his muscular butt and thighs in a fit so perfect it was clear the clothes had been tailored for him.

And with that gorgeous suit… he wore combat boots. Had he been anyone else, she’d have suspected he forgot to change his shoes, but no, not Thanatos. He was too detail-oriented and too careful. This was the man who, for hours prior to the ceremony, had prowled the keep like a tiger patrolling his territory, checking every nook and cranny twice, testing the guards’ weapons, and seeming to make a point of ignoring Regan. How the hell was she supposed to seduce a guy who had avoided her since their encounter in the gym, as if she’d given him a disease?

Oh, she’d caught him staring at her, the banked heat in his gaze searing her skin, but a moment later, the cold indifference would return, and he’d turn away with an air of arrogant dismissal.

The man was a puzzle. A dangerous, sexy puzzle. Over the last few days, she’d come upon him reading next to the fire, his fingers caressing a book as if it were a lover. The next time she saw him, he might be armored and bloody, and the very air around him would crackle like a brewing storm. He wouldn’t speak, never offered information freely, and his sense of humor was… odd.

Yes, Regan suffered from mild obsessive-compulsive issues, and she had a tendency to make sure all of the notes she took in his library were neatly arranged in stacks of twelve. But Than seemed to delight in moving a single page off one stack to another, just to drive her nuts. And she knew it was him, because the vampires denied touching her work, but the Horseman… he didn’t deny it. He’d simply watch her rail, one corner of his made-to-make-women-wet mouth twitching in a half-smile.

Peeling her gaze away from him, she returned her eye to their surroundings, because despite the massive security, Regan didn’t feel safe. Not when security was made up of demons, vampires, shapeshifters, and hellhounds. That