The Darkest Promise

Do not cling to him. Fight the urge.

“I need you to quiet down, sunshine.” Whispered words, but fierce with command.

Confusion delivered a well-placed punch to her frontal lobe. He’d just told her to quiet down, even though she hadn’t spoken a word.

“You’re thinking out loud,” he said, exasperation thick in his tone. “Now hush.”

Ugh. How could she have forgotten his ability to read her mind?

With a growl, she erected a mental block.

In the distance, new twigs snapped. Her ears twitched while the rest of her stiffened.

Feminine mumbles penetrated her awareness. Cameo swiped up the diamond dagger at the same time Lazarus palmed a spiked blade. His motion was barely perceptible. Had he not been on top of her, she would have missed the action.

The mumbling grew louder, until Cameo could make out the words. “—so much trouble! I mean it. Auntie Vie has a good thing going here. Babysitting duty will screw everything up.”

The familiar voice almost incited excitement. Almost.

“Viola.” Cameo experienced a single beat of relief before Misery poured an all too familiar sorrow into her heart.

Lazarus’s rigid posture softened. Sighing, he pushed to his feet and, with his fingers twined around hers, drew Cameo to a stand. The calluses on his palm created an undeniable zing of friction, a lance of pleasure shooting straight to her core. The heat returned. The aches reignited, and she trembled.

Look away from him! A difficult feat, but one she managed to accomplish. Barely.

Branches rattled and parted, revealing a five-foot-three pixie with long blond hair and cinnamon-colored eyes. As sexy as ever, she wore a black sequined dress. The center veed to a pierced navel and revealed the perfect swell of cleavage. The hem reached her knees, while a split on one side showcased a Kentucky bucket-load of thigh.

Though Viola was the keeper of Narcissism, she’d had nothing to do with Pandora’s box. However, there’d been more demons than thieves who’d released them, and those demons had required containment.

What better recipients for the leftovers than the immortals trapped in Tartarus? They couldn’t run, couldn’t hide.

Why Viola was imprisoned, she hadn’t yet shared.

The goddess spotted Cameo and stopped. Surprise never registered on her delicate features, only irritation. “A girl spends quality time building the perfect stay-away-from-me rep so losers will stop trying to steal her body, and this is her reward?” In each well-manicured hand, she clutched a dirt-caked child. “Look who dared show up at my door!”

Cameo jolted as if she’d been punched. Those dirt-caked kids were Urban and Ever. Her twin godchildren. Their father was Maddox, the keeper of Violence. Their mother was Ashlyn, a newly minted immortal, thanks to her marriage bond to Maddox.

Urban had his daddy’s black hair and startling violet eyes while Ever had her mother’s curling honey-colored hair and twinkling gaze to match. Both children possessed extraordinary powers, with some abilities yet to be tapped.

Cameo rushed over and pulled the kids against her, hugging both. She opened her mouth to demand answers. What were they doing here? How had they gotten here? Last time she’d seen them, they’d been in Budapest with their parents. But she snapped her mouth closed and remained quiet. Sadly, even little ones cried at the sound of her voice.

Frustration ate at her, making her miss Lazarus’s indifference.

An unexpected savior, he sidled up to her to ask the questions she couldn’t. When neither child responded, Viola gave them both a little shake.

“Start talking or I start spanking,” Viola said.

“Do you know how many toy soldiers will fit into a toilet before it clogs?” Urban asked with attitude. “Twelve. The number is twelve.”

Ever’s chin quavered as she peered down at her feet and kicked a pebble. “Mom and Dad are super worried about you, Aunt Cam. While they dealt with the great toilet crisis, we used the Paring Rod to check on you.”

Touched, Cameo pressed a hand over her heart.

Astonishment pulsed from Lazarus. “You’re children. Who taught you to use the Paring Rod?”

Urban crossed his arms over his chest, looking far older than his years and just as stubborn as his mother. “I don’t know you, so I don’t have to tell you anything but get lost.”

Viola pinched the bridge of her nose, as if she’d been pushed past the limits of her tolerance. “For disgusting little urchins, they’re extremely intelligent. They watched their aunts and uncles use the Paring Rod and ta-da. Here they are.”

Well. The kids needed to learn a hard lesson, and if Cameo had to make them sob in the process, so be it. “Coming here was irresponsible. Your parents are probably worried sick. And what if they followed you through the Paring Rod? What if they ended up in a different realm? They could be injured. Or worse!”

Ever hunched over and vomited the contents of her stomach.

Shit! Puking was a little too hard a lesson.

Tears poured down Urban’s cheeks as he wrapped an arm around his sister’s shoulders.

“Ouch,” Lazarus muttered, his lips twitching at the corners. “Aunt Cam is a hard-ass.”

She ignored the guilt...and the urge to lean against him, to bury her head in the hollow of his neck.

Viola fluffed her hair, her eyes dry. Like Lazarus, she didn’t react to Cameo. Either overwhelming sorrow already brewed inside her or she hid her sadness behind a veil of self-love. Either way, Cameo made a quality decision. She’s my new best friend.

“Mom and Dad don’t know we used the Paring Rod,” Urban said through his sniffles. “I hid our actions, even from Uncle Torin.”

Torin, keeper of Disease and one of Cameo’s old boyfriends, monitored the comings and goings of the entire fortress in Buda. Hiding anything from him required skill.

“You can’t know—” she began.

“I do know. Besides,” the little boy added, “you’re being a hypocrite. You came here. You worried my parents.”

Oookay. She couldn’t ignore the guilt any longer. She’d known her friends would worry, but she’d sought out Lazarus, anyway, desperate to regain her memory...secretly hoping to create new ones.

All for nothing! He dislikes me.

Great! Bitterness frothed alongside the guilt.

“I told the little monsters they’re fools,” Viola said. “Because I’m smart. The smartest one here, no question.”

Urban flipped her off.

“Oh, how sweet. You’re my number one fan.” The goddess patted the top of his head. “That’s not exactly a shocker, kid. I’m everyone’s favorite.”

The self-love sprang from the demon, so Cameo wouldn’t castigate her.

She motioned for the children to cover their ears. As soon as they obeyed, she said, “Where have you been? One day you were safe at home, the next you were gone, a note on your pillow. Don’t wait up.” She notched a fist on her hip. “Why did you return to the spirit realms?”

“Maybe I get better cell service here.” Viola gave her hair another fluff, a silver ring glinting on her finger. “Maybe my real friends are here.”

“I decided we’re besties. Deal with it.”

Viola waved a hand in front of Cameo’s face. “You really know how to bring down the vibe, don’t you?”

She nodded. Truth was truth.

Lazarus stepped between them, a muscle jumping beneath his eye. “A ball gag would make an excellent lip gloss for you, goddess.” Fury crackled in his tone.

Uh, what had gotten him so worked up?

Viola wiggled her perfectly plucked brows. “Is that an invitation, warrior? Because I accept.”

Oh, no she didn’t.

A dark, gnarled limb sprouted through the chambers inside Cameo’s heart, growing from a root of envy. Despite the presence of Narcissism, Viola exuded a normal woman’s sensuality. She could flirt and charm with abandon and happiness was hers for the taking—and the giving! She could give a fierce man like Lazarus what Cameo could not—untainted pleasure.

Rethinking our friendship...

Ever heaved a disgruntled sigh. “Earmuffing is getting old.”

Urban tapped his foot, impatient.

Cameo held up her index finger, requesting another minute. Glaring at Lazarus, she asked, “Is Viola in the running for your wife?”

Viola said, “Yes. Of course. I’m in everyone’s running.”

He snorted. “Say the word, and I’ll gladly introduce her to the end of my sword. And before your raging jealousy decides I’m bluffing in an effort to hide my desire for her, know that I burn for one woman, only one, and she is a black haired, silver-eyed vixen.”

The limb in Cameo’s heart shrank, the root catching flame. Her knees trembled. Lazarus might not like her, but he desired her. No, he burned for her.

Breathless, she said, “We need to get the children to the portal.” The sooner the better. Maddox and Ashlyn had to be agonized by the loss of their children. “How far must we travel?”

“Three days in the opposite direction. We’ll return to the palace and head out at first light.”

“But—”

“You don’t want the munchkins in the forest at night,” Viola interjected. “Trust me. I’m surprised the plants haven’t tried to eat us already.”

Lazarus’s chest puffed up with pride. “The plants fear me. With good reason.”

Gorgeous warrior. His strength tantalized and tempted her. I burn for him right back.

I’m doomed, remember? He’s not for me.

As their group motored forward, Lazarus said to Viola, “Where’s your pet?” His gaze slid to Cameo. “Princess Fluffy—whatever gnawed off my hand at our first encounter.”

“Did you retaliate?” she asked.

Urban and Ever burst into tears, and Cameo withered. Right. The two were no longer covering their ears. Better zip her lips.

Lazarus flicked the children an irritated glance. As if he were protective of Cameo’s feelings. Had to be a misinterpretation on her part.

“I could have retaliated,” he said. “Quite easily. Instead, I chose to forgive the slight.”

Her brow knit with confusion. “Why?” Forgiveness clearly wasn’t his thing.

“My reasons are my own.”

“And probably manillogical. Meaning ridiculous,” Viola said. “As for Fluffy, he’s chasing a hideous beast who’s been following me for weeks. A fun game of hide-and-seek.”

The children decided to play a game themselves, throwing and catching a small rock. Urban threw it first, flames erupting from the ends of his fingers.

Ever possessed the opposite ability. She sprouted ice, dousing the flames.

They were opposites in many other ways, but they were also two halves of a whole, complete only with each other.

Oh, to have a devoted partner in crime.

Cameo’s gaze slid to Lazarus, and lingered on the bulge of his biceps. One small vein glinted silvery white in the moonlight. The desire to touch registered a split second after she’d already reached out.

Without turning in her direction, he captured her wrist, his long, strong fingers forming a hot brand and unbreakable shackle. As electricity arched between them, her heart galloped, a racehorse headed for an invisible finish line.

A low growl rose from his chest, echoing through the trees. Birds took flight, squawking in protest, and leaves wrinkled as they drew back.

“No touching in public.” Lazarus released her.

“Why?” Minutes ago, he’d said he wanted her. Now she wasn’t allowed to caress him in front of other people?

He’s embarrassed of you. Misery cast a dark shadow over her thoughts and wrapped her in sorrow.

The tears she’d so often caused in others welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back.

His spine rigid and his stride long, Lazarus moved ahead to claim the lead. Cameo and the others followed him through the rose garden, past the statues she’d admired earlier and into the palace. The children stopped playing, stopped laughing.

Her misery was already spreading, affecting those around her. The knowledge only added to her sorrows.

Viola threw open her arms and shouted, “I’m here at last. Drink me in.”

Lazarus escorted her and the children to a spacious room. “Rest,” he said. “Food will be brought to you.”

He shut the door before the trio could protest. As two guards raced from the shadows to stand sentry at the door, he strode down the hall, turned a corner and stopped at Cameo’s door.

Tension radiated from him and thickened the air, air sweet with his scent and sultry with his delicious heat. Breathing became more difficult, as if she were trying to inhale molasses.

“Invite me in,” he rasped.

The change in him devastated her senses. She licked suddenly dry lips. “Why? Minutes ago, you couldn’t stand my touch.”

“Untrue. We were in public, and you were about to touch a...wound.”

He’s not embarrassed of me. “I’m sorry, Lazarus. I didn’t know.”

He took a step toward her, invading her personal space. “I want a night with you, sunshine. From sundown to sunrise, I want to make you scream with pleasure.”

The blatant sexuality of his claim nearly knocked her off her feet. He’d meant what he said and would do as he’d promised; she had zero doubts about that. His dark eyes sizzled with lust and challenge.

Must decline. But why?

His dislike. Her memory loss.

Um, surely she had more than two reasons?

Only need one. “No,” she croaked.

Without missing a beat, Lazarus took her by the hips, swung her around and pressed her against the door. “Have dinner with me, then. Give me a chance to sway you.”

Misery hissed.

Cameo chewed on her bottom lip. “Why do you want me?” Why not go for Viola, the surer thing?

“Desire is a beast more insidious than your demon.”

In other words, he didn’t want to want her. And she couldn’t blame him!

She should lock herself in her room, end the madness. Problem was, she would only buy herself an hour, maybe two. He was a warrior, and walking away from him would incite him to battle. He would only come after her with greater fervor.

What harm could food, conversation and a little innocent flirting do? He would never breach her resolve. She, too, was a warrior. Yes?

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll have dinner with you.”

8

“Step five: Plan an attack. Trash it and plan another. Trash that one, and act without planning. If you surprise yourself, you’ll surprise your enemy.”

—How to Achieve Victory

Subtitle: Except with Lovers and Their Family

Cameo’s heart thundered against her ribs as Lazarus led her into the bedroom. She stopped short, dumbfounded.

Damn him. He’d planned ahead.

Servants were lighting candles here, there, everywhere. A small, round table had been brought into the room and covered with dishes. The scent of sweetmeats and candied treats teased her, and her mouth watered.

Misery had curtailed her appetite for years, and yet her stomach rumbled, a sign of hunger she wasn’t used to feeling. Usually, when she spent time away from her friends, she had to set an alert on her phone to let her know mealtime arrived.

Never breach my resolve? I’m an idiot.

“You are not an—” Lazarus began.

Erecting a mental shield, she pressed a finger against his lips. “If you respond to my thoughts one more time, I’ll insist on eating alone.”

He nipped at her fingertip, his straight white teeth sinking into her tender flesh. She barely noticed the sting...but gasped as he licked the same spot, her cells buzzing. Languid heat consumed her.

“Out,” he barked, never looking away from her.

The servants dashed from the room. The males wore T-shirts and jeans while the females wore cashmere sweaters and lightweight pants. I call foul! Lazarus only dressed his pretties scantily while everyone else got to wear whatever the hell they wanted?

“You are no longer in charge of my wardrobe,” Cameo informed him. “Sexable women aren’t your personal Barbie dolls. Some of us prefer to wear something other than sequined bandages.”

“A simple thank you would suffice. And I like the word sexable. You offering?”

“What! No!” Right?

Right.

With a smirk, Lazarus snaked an arm around her waist and led her to the table. He pulled out her chair, ever the gentleman. “Please, have a seat on the quitter bench.”

Muscles contracted at both corners of her mouth as if...as if... Nope. The sensation eased, and disappointment flared. Sighing, she sat down.

He eased into the chair across from hers, light and shadows flickering over his rugged features. Taking turns caressing him? Lucky lights. Lucky shadows.

He smiled as he filled her plate with flaky crab meat in a butter cream sauce, mixed vegetables steamed to perfection, and a casserole that smelled suspiciously like...

“Doritos?” she asked.

“At the Harpy Games, you ate a bag of the cheese-flavored chips while cheering for your friend, so I had a special dish prepared.” He hiked a shoulder in a casual shrug. “One of the newly deceased members of my staff had a recipe.” His dark eyes twinkled at her. “Are you impressed?”

She sooo did not want to admit the truth, but unlike Gideon, the keeper of Lies, deceit wasn’t her thing and it would only fuel Misery’s power over her. “Yes,” she grumbled, and toasted him with her glass of wine. “I am.”

He’d noticed her before she’d even met him. How sweet was that?

She toasted him with a glass of red wine and added, “Here’s hoping you disappoint me the rest of the evening.”

“Alas. Your hopes are for naught. Disappointment is a feat I’ve never managed.”

“I’m sure,” she grumbled.

“You sound jealous. Are you jealous?”

“You sound hopeful. Are you hopeful?”

His husky chuckle proved headier than the cabernet. “For dessert, we’re having chocolate cake. I’m told mortals think this one is better than sex.”

Hmm, chocolate. Despite her lack of appetite, she sometimes craved chocolate as if it were the only path to happiness. “Well. Meet your competition. I’m tempted to spend the night with the cake.”

“In that case...” He lifted a round lid, revealing the chocolate cake in question. With his free hand, he stabbed his knife into the center. “Unfortunately, this cake has been murdered.”

She snickered—no, Misery swallowed the sound before it had a chance to escape, leaving her deflated.

“When first I arrived in your realm,” she said, jumping from pleasure to business for the sake of her sanity, “a man noticed I’m living rather than dead. How?”

He rolled with the punches, not missing a beat. “When a living being passes through the Paring Rod, their body becomes a type of suit. It’s there, the dead can see it, but the spirit shimmers through it.”

Interesting. “How many living—”

“Nope. My turn to ask a question.” He leaned back in his seat and regarded her intently. “You’ve mentioned your desire to find Pandora’s box. What are your plans for it?”

“I’m...undecided,” she admitted. No option struck her as “the one.”

She could destroy the box and sentence herself to an eternity with Misery and without hope. She could open the box and remove Misery, but she would kill herself and all of her friends.

Rumors stated anyone demon possessed would die when the box was opened, the demons sucked out of their bodies. Because evil had become an organ over the centuries. A cancerous but necessary organ. Without it, a gaping wound remained. She and the others would hemorrhage.

Kane, the former keeper of Disaster, had proved the demon possessed could survive the wound...if love replaced the evil. A transplant, of sorts.

Love conquered all.

But who could love a woman like Cameo?

“I’m surprised you haven’t worked up a disposal plan.” Lazarus glared at her. “The box can be used as a weapon against you and everyone you love.”

How to explain her selfish desire to be rid of Misery without coming across as, well, selfish? “Keeley, the girlfriend of Torin—”

“The keeper of Disease, whom you used to date. Yes.” He gave a clipped nod. “I know of them both.”

Was he jealous? No, no. He couldn’t be. No man had ever envied another’s affiliation with her. Especially a man who only wanted one night in her bed, planning to bail in the morning.

Only because he can’t tolerate another minute in your presence...

Only. Stupid demon!

“Continue,” Lazarus said through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” she said. “I dated him. We didn’t last long, and he’s now with the love of his life. Anyway. She’s the most powerful immortal I’ve ever known. More powerful than you, I’d bet.”

“I wouldn’t put money on that. You haven’t seen me in action.”

Shivers as delicious as his touch, heat burning through her veins. In battle, he would be a magnificent sight, his sword in hand, the blood of his enemies splattered over his skin.

“Anyway,” she said with a sigh, “Keeley told me there’s another being inside the box.”

Lazarus drained his wine and nodded. “Yes. The Morning Star.”

Eyes widening, she dropped her fork. “What do you know?” Keeley claimed the Morning Star could provide a lifeline for every Lord. A type of Hail Mary.

Lazarus buffed his nails, doing a poor job of hiding his smug grin. “Would you like to buy the information from me?”

With her body? “You think I’ll be okay with whoring for you?”

“Of course,” he said, unrepentant. “Role-playing is fun.”

Dirty-minded bastard. Why was he sexier right now? “No? I mean, no.” If he knew about the Morning Star, others knew. Cameo could ask around. “Now it’s my turn. Why do you plan to marry a woman you may not love?”

He pretended to stab himself in the heart. “Way to kill the mood.”

Exactly!

“I plan to marry a woman I do not love because her army will merge with mine, and together we will mete out vengeance when my enemies enter the realm of the dead.”

“Vengeance matters more than pleasure?”

He could have insisted on taking his turn but, over the candlelight, he reflected her somberness back at her. “For me, vengeance is the ultimate pleasure.” The hardness of his tone transformed the words into a vow.

One she had best heed.

Her shoulders rolled in, pushed by the heaviness of disappointment. Perhaps she’d begun to hope. Perhaps she’d thought he would be the one to help her, maybe even save her. He could tolerate her voice, after all, and he found her attractive. Lazarus for the win!

But he would never choose her, would he? She would always be a conquest, unimportant, easily forgotten. As if she had any right to judge. But. He wouldn’t fight for her if—when—she forgot him.

Who would? Misery asked.

“You’re not going to score tonight,” she told him softly. “In fact, you need to leave.” Before she started to cry.

* * *

Viola, goddess of the Afterlife, secret love child of parents she refused to name, and an all-round badass, crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at Urban and Ever. The pair had seriously interfered with her plans to hide from the monster on her tail, steal powerful artifacts lost throughout the ages, and unite the different spirit realms. Her birthright!

What good was a queen without a queendom?

“Stop looking at us like that,” Ever snapped.

“Like what? Like you’re nasty little creatures? Well, news flash. You are nasty little creatures.” Viola shuddered. Despite her lack of experience with the care and feeding of anyone under the age of two hundred, she was certain she had this babysitting gig nailed.

Children were drawn to her, whether they appeared to be drawn to her or not. They couldn’t help themselves. No one could. Why, she could have bagged and tagged the deliciously gorgeous Lazarus if she’d wanted him. But what woman in her right mind wanted a man who peered at another female as if she were the only portal to heaven?