The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld 13)

Can't live without the memories.

Don't have to.

Yes, she did. For him.

Hands shaking, Cameo removed the necklace and gently placed the chain around Lazarus's neck. Misery couldn't wipe her memory while she wore the box.

The demon surged front and center, pissed as hell and determined to ruin whatever happiness she'd achieved in his absence.

Too late. "Take my memory of him," she whispered.

Part of her expected him to refuse. As miserable as she was, as miserable as she would continue to be, her sorrow would surely empower him for centuries to come. But he had to know as well as she how deeply the loss of her memory would devastate her. Lazarus's reaction would finish her off, because she would know, deep down, her mind had been violated, something precious taken from her.

With a gleeful laugh, Misery sliced his claws into her mental files, cutting away the most beloved moments of her life. She cringed, the pain sharp and sure.

Necessary.

Cameo turned her head to peer at Lazarus, to say goodbye a final time. To--

She frowned. A naked male lay beside her; he was cut with muscle and heavily tattooed. Thick lines stretched across his arms, chest and legs, as if his veins had been filled with glitter. He was gorgeous. Magnetic. Dangerous?

Heart thudding, she scrambled away. The demon had taken her memories again, hadn't he?

Bastard! She reached up to punch her fists into her temples, perhaps shaking the demon.

Her bedmate blinked open his eyes--dark eyes, framed by incredibly long lashes. He was more than gorgeous. He was rugged and strong, and she wondered if she'd fallen for his looks. Because wow. But...she hated sex. What if he'd forced her?

"Sunshine?" He reached for her. "Come back to bed, love."

She scrambled backward, widening the distance between them.

Love. He'd called her love. He hadn't forced her. He'd romanced her. Had probably made her happy, and the demon had decided to strike.

Can't live like this.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

*

Lazarus dressed and weaponed up as Cameo did the same, careful to keep him within her periphery. She remained as far away from him as possible. Only hours before, she'd promised to love him always. Pandora's box now hung around his neck; she'd returned her prized possession, had forgotten it--had forgotten him. She'd willingly allowed Misery to wipe her mind.

Why, damn her?

He wished he could hate her for it, but he fell deeper in love with her. No one had ever put him first. Until her. Always her.

Still fury frothed inside him. With one act, she'd shredded the heart he'd entrusted to her. He wanted his Cameo back. His sunshine. He felt as if she'd perished today, along with his dreams. The remains were here, in a cave that had become a grave.

"I'm your man." Believe me. Remember. "You love me, and I love you."

At his declaration, her eyes rounded like saucers. Her mind remained open to him, the shield down. She could see the torment etched in every line in his face, sensed it was genuine, and hated that she'd hurt the man who'd probably shown her the meaning of happiness. Prob-fucking-ably. He had!

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Nowhere important." He gnashed his teeth as he approached her. With every step, pain ricocheted through him. The crystals had thickened and spread, so close to his heart. His end neared.

Cameo retreated. A muscle jumped beneath his eye, but he continued moving toward her, anyway. When he had her pressed flat against a rocky wall, he fought the urge to kiss her--couldn't stand the thought of a rejection after her complete surrender--and removed the chain to drape it over her head.

"This is yours." He settled the box between her breasts, hoping the familiar action would spur a flicker of her past.

She blinked with surprise and relief, her head suddenly her own. Peace and quiet reigned. "The demon--" She pressed her lips together.

He read her thoughts, knew she feared his reaction to discovering the truth about her evil. "I know all about him." His voice snapped like a whip. He resented the need to explain. "When you wear the pendant, its power suppresses the demon. When you're near the pendant, its power aggravates the demon, but it isn't strong enough to suppress him."

Out came her tongue to swipe over her bottom lip. Before she'd wrecked him, he would have leaned down to capture her tongue with his own. If he kissed her now, she would bite him.

"What's so special about the pendant?" she asked.

"Only everything." Frustration and anger raged inside him. He wanted his Cameo back. The one who melted when she looked at him. Who kissed with passion and awe. Who clung to him. The one who loved him.

The one he couldn't live without.

The demon had wiped her mind. Permission or not, the demon would pay.

Lazarus pressed his forehead against Cameo's. Though she stiffened, she allowed the contact to continue without protest. He breathed in her scent. Roses, bergamot and neroli.

He hadn't cried when his mother died, her body in pieces at his feet. He hadn't cried when Juliette hacked off his hands or his testicle. Hadn't cried when he'd been beheaded and sent to the spirit realms, his future forever altered.

He'd always considered tears a weakness.

Here, now, tears flowed unchecked down each cheek. He'd lost something precious today.

Maybe her memory loss was for the best?

While the thought angered him, he couldn't deny its veracity. This way, when Lazarus told her goodbye, when he ended up encased in stone for eternity, she wouldn't cry, breaking him. She wouldn't feel anything at all. She could live her life without regret.

He would do anything to save her from a moment's pain.

> "Let's get you home," he croaked. "There are things you and your friends need to know." Forget Hera. Forget vengeance.

Hate had ceased to matter. Life wasn't about who he killed but about who he loved.

Boom!

An explosion above the cavern shook the walls. Hunks of rock rolled from the ceiling. Dust clotted in the air.

Can't break down now. Must get Cameo to safety.

Cameo reached out to brace herself against the wall.

He stalked from her without kissing her or shouting obscenities. The hardest thing he'd ever done. Despite the pain that escalated with every move he made, he gathered the go bags. "We can't stay here." He couldn't leave her behind while he scouted the area for a portal. She had no idea how many dangers surrounded them. "Stay directly behind me."

"Wait," she called as he marched to the narrow entry.

He stilled, daring to hope she had remembered something about him.

"You never told me your name."

The fragments of his heart withered. "I'm Lazarus, known to all as Cameo's man."

29

"When everything has gone wrong, rejoice. Something must now go right."

--How to Give Mind-blowing Orgasms

--How Boys Become Men

Siobhan's glass hung in Hades's private bedchamber. The bed had a six-foot-tall panel at the footboard, and he'd placed her in the center, giving her a direct view of his mattress while he lounged against a mound of pillows.

She'd beaten at her prison wall until the flesh had ripped from her hands. She'd screamed until her throat had become as raw as ground meat and breathing became an act of sheer torture. Hades had simply peered at her, waiting for her to break and show him different possible futures.

The ultimate staring contest. Who would flinch first?

Well, there was no reason to engage. No reason to help him. She scanned her new surroundings. The spacious room was filled with fine velvets, antique furnishings and mystical artifacts. A bouquet of red roses decorated the nightstand. A glowing blue sword rested on the dresser. A portrait of a pink-haired woman hung over the bed's headboard--Keeley, the Red Queen. Once Hades's fiancee.

Why did he have a portrait of his former fiancee? Did he love her still?

Siobhan hated the woman on principal. Loving a man like Hades made you a fool.

"I can do this all day," Hades said, his voice a silky purr. He looked every inch the pampered male. A bowl made of incandescent dragon glass rested beside him, overflowing with grapes. He tossed a piece of fruit into his mouth and chewed, the movement of his jaw somehow sensual, indecent, even. "Give me what I want. Show me who wins the war and how victory is achieved."