The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld 13)

He withdrew his hand, despite the nails she dug into his wrists in an effort to hold him in place. "Someone just broke her promise."

"What are you doing? You were finally getting somewhere. Keep going!"

Eyes like pools of sizzling obsidian, he licked his finger. "Isn't it obvious, sunshine? I'm punishing you, leaving you in a state of torment. You're going to remember the feel of my finger inside you and soon you're going to beg me for its return."

*

Teasing a woman into a snit had never been one of Lazarus's life goals. Until Cameo.

After giving him her version of the finger, she returned to her horse. He hid a grin. Let her desire for him grow and fester. Soon she would become a boiling pot of lust. The steam would, hopefully, create a barrier against the demon.

Besides, Lazarus wanted revenge. The little vixen had kept him shielded from her mind all day.

The next time he glanced at her, exhaustion had completely overshadowed her anger. She was slumped in her saddle. Her adrenaline had crashed, and crashed hard.

"Let's stop for the night," he called.

The entire procession stopped. Lazarus dismounted and patted his mighty steed on the rump for a job well done.

Within minutes, tents were erected. Viola and the children were ushered inside the biggest--the goddess insisted. When Cameo attempted to follow the trio inside, Lazarus clasped her hand and led her toward his tent.

At any other time, she probably would have protested. Tonight she leaned against him, using him as a crutch. Her feet dragged, leaving deep grooves in the dirt.

"Up you go, sunshine." Lazarus swept her into his arms and carried her inside. The significance of the action wasn't lost on him and it--

Nothing.

When he set her on her feet, she stumbled to a thick mound of furs and collapsed. Eyes already closing, she muttered, "Whatever you plan to ask me, the answer is no."

Sleep claimed her in the next instant, her beautiful body going lax.

"Here's a question," he muttered. "Should I keep my hands to myself tonight?"

He eased beside her, careful not to touch her. He would personally oversee her protection. All night long.

Her roses, bergamot and neroli scent enveloped him. His mind opened, seeking a connection with her. She'd never been more vulnerable, and he hated himself, but closing his mind proved impossible.

Must learn more about her.

The images he saw disturbed him. Misery plagued her, even in her dreams, filling her head with memories she probably despised. The times she'd been hurt physically. When people had called her terrible names. When friends had died. When those she trusted had betrayed her.

She tossed and turned, unable to settle. Poor Cameo.

Poor Lazarus. Desire for her plagued him. Only a few minutes before, her breasts had overflowed in his hands, her nipples flush against his flesh. His finger had been inside her, her inner walls nearly burning him alive. The little sounds she'd made in the back of her throat were auditory porn.

What he wouldn't give to strip her, to feed his aching length into her, to have her nails digging into his back and her legs wrapped around his waist...

Already addicted to her.

For whatever reason, fate had decided she was his monomania. Or perhaps something as simple as body chemistry had made the call. Either way, the choice...pleased Lazarus. Somehow Cameo had found a direct line to compassion he'd never felt for another. Her sharp tongue and quick wit amused him. The love she had for her friends and family roused envy.

He wanted to be the one, the only one, she turned to for comfort.

What you want isn't what you need.

He flashed outside the bounds of camp, not wanting anyone to know he'd left the tent, and slammed his fists into the trunk of a tree while cursing the moon, again and again. The vines shrank back in fear. Cool wind blustered around him.

When the bones in his hands shattered, he flashed back to the pallet. Cameo slept on, unaware of his turmoil.

When the time came, he would let her go. As planned. No matter what the cursed mirror had shown her. Because...

The crystals in his arms and legs had thickened yet again. Now hundreds of glittering rivers branched from the hardening veins.

Like a weakling, he'd nearly dropped her when he'd hefted her onto his lap--nearly dropped a woman who weighed less than his sword. It was laughable. But he wasn't amused.

Cameo was far more dangerous than he'd ever suspected. Because she pleased him. Because she weakened more than his body--she weakened his resolve.

If he wasn't careful, she would do the very thing his enemies had been unable to accomplish. She would utterly destroy him.

11

"Everyone is allowed to betray you once. Mistakes happen. Just kidding. No one is allowed to betray you ever. Always keep an executioner on staff."

--Living on Your Own Terms, Damn It

"Wake up, sunshine. Eat."

Cameo blinked open dry eyes. Her body ached as if she'd just been in a car accident. A common occurrence. The demon had infiltrated her dreams, making her toss and turn and tense up hour after hour.

As she studied her surroundings, she arched her back and stretched her arms over her head. The first thing she noticed--a tent made from an unfamiliar animal skin. The only furnishings? The soft white furs beneath her. A few feet away, a small fire pit crackled, smoke wafting up and out an opening in the roof.

The scent of buttered eggs saturated the air, and her mouth watered.

A fully dressed Lazarus pulled her to an upright position. He released her as soon as possible, as if she'd burned him. A scowl marred his rugged features, the gorgeous alpha male clearly riled up about something.

Had Misery sunk his claws inside the warrior?

Lazarus handed her a linen napkin and a plate with scrambled eggs. Scrambled green eggs.

"What, no ham?" she asked.

"We have no pigs here. Give me half an hour and I'll acquire a nice Griffin flank steak for you."

Griffin. A gruphon in ancient Greece. Half lion and half eagle. "No, thanks." She took a tentative bite and moaned with delight. "I guess I shouldn't have pegged you for a Dr. Seuss fan."

"Who is Dr. Seuss? A past boyfriend?" He spat the word.

The corners of her mouth twisted. My, my, how suddenly his mood changed. "Perhaps he is. He does have a special way with words."

Lazarus snapped his teeth at her.

"What kind of egg is this?" she asked.

"Sky serpent."

Whoa! The nastiest creature in the realm had the sweetest, most succulent eggs? How was that fair?

She swallowed another bite and asked, "Is it going to cause my intestines to explode?"

"Only your loins. It's an aphrodisiac."

"Well, here's to exploding loins." Cameo dug in as if she hadn't eaten in years. After licking the plate clean, she wiped her mouth with the napkin.

Lazarus watched with savage intensity, making her shiver.

"Ask me anything." He sat in front of her. "I'll answer truthfully, without fail."

Did he need a distraction from his own loins?

What would he do if she crawled into his lap?

Resist the urge! One, he'd just offered her a gift. Learn more about him? Yes, please! And two, she needed a toothbrush stat. No reason to scare him away with her morning breath.

What to ask, what to ask? Oh! "Why are you so determined to mete vengeance against Juliette? There were times you seemed to like her. Despite the fact that she enslaved you."

His eyes glittered. "She did more than enslave me." His tone lashed. "Before you, she owned the Paring Rod. It does more than open portals into other realms--it cleaves spirit from soul. She used it to cleave free will from me, making me think I wanted her. But the effects were only temporary. I would read her mind and come to my senses...and she would remove my hands to stop me from killing her, buying enough time to cleave my free will once again."

/> Horror thundered through Cameo, bringing Misery to the forefront of her mind. He attacked with lightning flashes of sorrow. Tears filled her eyes, obscuring her vision.

Stiff as a statue, Lazarus reached out to capture a single droplet, pinched and sifted the moisture with his fingertips. "Courtesy of you or the demon?"

"Both." She used the linen napkin to blow her nose.

"You are too sweet and tenderhearted for your own good."

"I so am not." She sniffled. "It's just...you suffered. No wonder you were willing to let Strider behead you." To be tricked into believing you loved someone you hated...someone who was abusing you in terrible ways...

Cameo sprang at Lazarus, enfolding him within the circle of her arms and burying her head in the hollow of his neck. As he relaxed into her embrace, his arms wound around her.

"I'm sorry," she said. When she returned to the mortal world, she would find Juliette. She would punish the Harpy on Lazarus's behalf.

Payback's gonna hurt, bitch.

"Do not challenge her," he commanded, his hold tightening. "You could be hurt. Or worse."

He'd read her mind again, but for once, she couldn't bring herself to care. "She won't best me." The Mother of Melancholy had skills.