Nothing happened. Not a single crack appeared. Frustration mixed with anger and helplessness.
Guess I'm on my own. As always.
10
"Cowardice is a disease. Kill it before it kills you."
--How to Achieve Victory
Subtitle: Except with Lovers and Their Family
--Living on Your Own Terms, Damn It
"Rathbone." Lazarus sat upon his throne, his fingers drumming against the armrests. He should be on the road. Morning had come, and the children had already clogged two sets of pipes. But the presence of his unwanted visitor had kept him home. "Show yourself."
Buzz, buzz.
Another fly? Oh, no. Not another. The. In the center of the room, the fly morphed into a fully dressed man. Irritation clawed up Lazarus's spine.
Should have known.
A grinning Rathbone spread his arms wide. "You called?"
Lazarus gnashed his teeth. "Why have you remained here?"
The warrior's grin widened. "Perhaps I wanted to tell the world I spent a night in bed with Lazarus the Cruel and Unusual."
"No one will believe you, considering you're still able to walk."
"An enthusiastic lover, are you?"
"Very." Lazarus gripped the arms of his throne. "You've been spying on me."
"Obviously. I am not only the Only. I am the Spy Master." Amusement rather than shame peered at him through those diamond eyes. "Should you really cast stones, mind reader?"
Until Lazarus declared his allegiance to a king of the underworld, this type of nuisance would be happening over and over again. "Tell me. Will our entire conversation take place in question form?"
"Would it please you if it did?" Rathbone asked, one brow arched.
Is this how I come across to Cameo?
Of course not! I'm charming.
This had to end. He held Rathbone's gaze as he opened his mind to the other man's--
Roaring, Lazarus broke the connection.
Rathbone remained stoic. "I gave you a glimpse of horrors I've suffered in my lifetime. Attempt to read my mind again, and I'll give you full access."
Before today, Lazarus had thought he understood torture. He'd endured and received his fair share of it. Truth was, he hadn't understood until this moment. What the warrior had experienced... New respect for him bloomed.
"Take care of the woman," Rathbone said, no longer amused. "She is Hades's ally, and therefore my ally. We want her protected."
She--is--mine.
No. No! Denial screamed through his mind. He would not claim the woman who would herald his downfall. "You want her protected. Nothing more?" Did Rathbone desire Cameo in his bed?
"And help you spit on your one chance for true love?" Rathbone tsk-tsked. "No."
"True love?" He scoffed. "I mentioned nothing of love, true or otherwise. Love weakens."
"Fear weakens. Love strengthens." Rathbone held his stare, unblinking. "One day your woman will tire of your rejection and seek the comfort of another man. I hope to be a fly on the wall when you discover the great blessing you've lost, but I'll settle for being the one she accepts into her bed when you're gone."
He does want my woman in his bed. A growl reverberated in Lazarus's chest, so rough he suspected he was bleeding internally.
Calm. Control. When "one day" came, Lazarus would have already let Cameo go. No ties, no crystals, no vulnerabilities.
"We share the same hope, then," he replied. "Flies get swatted."
Rathbone laughed, but sobered quickly. "Your woman hates Misery, wants so badly to be free of him. You can aid her."
Bastard couldn't know about the box. "Let's pretend I care," he said. "Tell me, O Great One, how I can aid her."
"When did I become your life coach? Find the answer on your own." With a wink, Rathbone vanished.
Lazarus remained atop the throne, certain the bastard had lied. There wasn't a way to remove Cameo's demon and keep her alive. So. He would not change his plan. He would have a night with her.
One and done. Not by choice, but by necessity.
Afterward, he would let her go with a warning. Never return.
And he would not feel guilty. He would move on.
*
The first day of the journey passed without incident. No one attacked, and there were no grasping, hungry limbs or swarms of killer insects. Cameo was almost disappointed. She itched for a fight.
As their ragtag group had ridden away from Lazarus's palace, the Bend-over Babes had given chase. As suspected, they'd once enjoyed quality time in bed with their king, and they'd felt entitled to a goodbye kiss.
To his credit, Lazarus had appeared flustered by the attention and had sent the Bend-over Babes away without a kiss. Meanwhile, Cameo had wanted to murder the women. She'd thought, Mine! I will not share.
No doubt the mirror's vision had screwed with her head. She'd seen herself make love to him, screaming with pleasure she'd never known, so of course she'd grown a wee bit possessive of him.
Also saw him contemplate killing me. Where's my righteous anger over that?
Well, everyone had flaws. And wanting to kill her was actually a common occurrence among immortals and even humans.
Viola had spent several hours shamelessly flirting with the soldiers, and Urban had spent those same hours burning the soldiers. Apparently no other man was allowed to speak to, smile at or encourage the goddess. Ever had quickly doused the flames with her ice.
The few times Urban had remembered to be a little boy rather than a jealous stalker, he'd complained incessantly about the helmet Cameo had made.
"My hair aches," he said for the thousandth time.
"I'm sure we'll be setting up camp soon, and you can remove it." The sun had been falling steadily for the past hour.
Her voice had a ripple effect, shudders sweeping through the crowd.
During one of their many bathroom breaks, Lazarus had looked over the weapons and armor Cameo had made. "Amazing," he'd said. "Your skill is unsurpassed."
She'd almost blushed.
"Where did you learn?" he'd asked.
"A forge in the Middle Ages." Alex had--
She'd stopped the thought, unwilling to give Misery an open-door invitation to flood her with sorrow. Or Lazarus a chance to read her mind.
"There's a story there," he had remarked.
"Yes, but it's one for another day."
"Our time together grows short." He'd stared straight ahead, and a pang had cut through her chest.
When would a man want to keep her?
"I think you should have made the armor out of magnesium infused with dense silicon carbide nanoparticles," Ever said, breaking into her thoughts. "It's as light as aluminum, but as strong as titanium."
Cameo gaped at her.
Viola beamed as Fluffy raced around her horse. "You, little monster, are a girl after my own heart. Magnesium infused with dense silicon carbide nanoparticles has the highest strength-to-weight ratio."
As the two chatted--intelligently--about metals, Cameo's gaze sought Lazarus. He sat atop his massive winged steed, his head high, his shoulders squared, his spine rigid. What an awe-inspiring sight. Over a hundred soldiers rode with him, creating a shield for the women and children.
A horde of sky serpents flew overhead. Their numbers were fluid, beasts coming and going as they pleased. One thing remained constant minute by minute--the death glares Cameo received.
On more than one occasion, a drop of accelerant had splashed onto her face. And not by accident. The burns were too well placed.
"Ow!" Another droplet hit her, this one burning the end of her nose. "All right. Enough. Do something about your pets. Before I pick up a branch," she shouted to the sky.
Heart-wrenching sobs rang through the crowd. She pressed her lips together.
Misery cackled with glee. Wonder how many suicides there'll be tonight...
Doing her best to ignore him, she smoothed salve on the newest wound.
Lazarus glared at
the sky as he bellowed a string of words she didn't understand. The sky serpents understood, though. Multiple beasts roared in response, wings frenzied as they flapped.
His gaze lowered to Cameo. "They want you dead and themselves splattered in your blood."
"Trust me," she whispered, hoping no one else heard her. If she made one more person cry... "The feeling is mutual."
Pensive, he rubbed two fingers against the stubble on his jaw. "Perhaps the sky serpents would be satisfied if I...spanked you."
A spanking? Really? "Don't you--"
He wrapped an arm around her waist, wringing a gasp from her.
"What--"
He lifted her from her horse, his biceps flexing. Such incredible strength...and yet, he began to tremble. Fearing he would drop her, she clung to him. Then he settled her in front of him, his scent and heat enveloping her, and she shivered.
Misery clawed at her skull, sending sharp pains through her temples. So much for enjoying the ride.
Or maybe not. Lazarus rubbed his cheek against hers, distracting and delighting her.
He chuckled softly.
Shit! Shields up!