The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld #13)

A gasp of shock and horror escaped her.

The massive glass panes had been opened, and between them loomed a man. A winged man. A grotesque and yet somehow exquisite winged man. His facial features were too sharp but strong and rugged and framed by long black hair that billowed in a wind she couldn’t feel. His eyes were pale blue, almost white. His muscles were so big, so well defined, they bulged. His skin was a darker blue than his eyes but still pale, like that of an ice demon, and she wavered between disliking...and liking.

His wings appeared infected by evil. The ends were stained black, the thick veins snaking from top to bottom as hard as stone.

He pointed a curling black nail in her direction and spoke a single word. “Forsaken.” His voice was rough and sharp, just like his features.

Her heart sped into a faster rhythm. Narcissism remained shockingly quiet. From awe? Or disgust? Perhaps fear?

The intruder wore a loincloth, nothing more, his sculpted body on perfect display. His feet were bare, his toenails as black as the tips of his feathers.

“Um, I’m going to pass,” Viola told him. “In other words, thanks but no thanks.”

“Forsaken,” he repeated. A second later, he launched into the air and vanished in the darkened skyline.

Fluffy dived through the window, his teeth bared as he unleashed an otherworldly snarl. He’d intended to bite the...fallen Sent One? Sent Ones were demon assassins. Perhaps he’d come here to murder Viola? Instead, Fluffy skidded across the floor and slammed into the wall.

“My baby!” She rushed over and gathered him close. Throughout the centuries, he’d become her best friend. The only living being she trusted. “You chased the bad guy as he chased me. Then you saved the day!”

“What,” Urban said, punctuating the word as he pointed to the window, “was that?”

As she nuzzled Fluffy’s fur, she waved a dismissive hand. “Only another admirer, I’m sure.” But even as she spoke, a tidal wave of foreboding overtook her.

As the goddess of the Afterlife, she sometimes had premonitions about other people’s pain and death. She had one now—about herself! That man...whoever he was, whatever he was, he was part of her future, and he would hurt her worse than anyone ever had.

*

Siobhan, goddess of Many Futures, watched Cameo through the glass prison that had served as her home for far too long. The magic mirror, some called it. Many had slaughtered entire villages for a chance to gaze upon it.

And she was considered the evil one? Because she’d caused twelve little wars? Hypocrites!

Well, the past was the past, and the future awaited. Another war brewed in the immortal realms. The under-realms, to be exact. Hades versus Lucifer. Even Siobhan would have to pick a side.

Who was she kidding? She’d already picked a side. As a young child, she’d taken one look at the beautiful but reviled Hades, fallen in love, certain he was simply misunderstood and she could save him, and asked him for his hand in marriage. He’d been a big, bad warrior, even then, but he’d said, “Sure thing, kid. We’ll set the date for four thousand years from now.”

Over the next decade, her love for him had only magnified. He was such a strong, capable male and, if she were being honest, his dark side had thrilled a secret part of her.

Finally she could wait no longer. As a teenager, she’d returned to him, certain she was old enough to be with him. Just as certain he would accept her.

Instead, he and his current lover had laughed at her pathetic attempt at seduction. Humiliated and angry, Siobhan had kinda sorta ripped out the woman’s heart.

Oops. My bad. Accidents happened.

At Hades’s command, a powerful witch then cursed her to live inside the mirror.

Siobhan had spent the last four millennia trapped behind the glass, growing from teenager to woman alone, denied the touch of another.

Only by manipulating those who’d gazed upon her glass had she managed to escape the underworld. But as the centuries passed, she’d dreamed of returning, of ruining Hades’s life.

Once again she’d had to scheme and manipulate, until she’d finally ended up in the Realm of Grimm and Fantica, a land ruled by a known associate of Hades’s.

Would the king of the underworld visit? Would he remember her? Perhaps sense her behind the glass?

She didn’t blame the witch for her predicament; the woman had simply followed her master’s orders. It was Hades who deserved to know the pain of imprisonment and the horror of watching the world live on without him.

He deserved to switch places with Siobhan.

Vengeance, she knew, corrupted in the worst of ways. In fact, one of the ends she foresaw for Lazarus and his quest to destroy Hera and Juliette was the destruction of everyone and thing he loved. Only poisonous fruit could grow from a poisonous tree, and in all honesty, there were no greater poisons than bitterness, hatred and sorrow.

Deprived of contact, comfort or camaraderie, those tainted fruits had grown inside Siobhan, anyway.

Her motto? Strategize. Lead. Strike.

I’m ready to strike!

Problem: she could foresee the paths others could, should and would take, and the ultimate results of their choices...but she couldn’t foresee her own possibilities.

However, she didn’t require a magical gift to know she needed to gain her freedom. To do so, she had to help other people fall in love. Every time she succeeded, a hundred years was subtracted from her sentence. But every time she tried and failed, a hundred years was added to her sentence.

You think you understand matters of the heart, Hades had said. Prove it.

Should she attempt to help Lazarus the Cruel and Unusual? As stubborn as he was, Siobhan had crossed him off the list of potentials the first time she met him. With Cameo here, she reconsidered.

Cameo had many choices and many possible outcomes.

Death...so much death. Betrayal. Sadness. Rage.

Happiness...a glimpse, only a glimpse. Quickly stolen away.

Victory, defeat.

Darkness, light. Tears. Laughter. A field of vibrant butterflies.

Everything jumbled together. Siobhan’s head ached, and she forced her mind to blank, the images to clear.

Would Cameo ultimately choose to be with Lazarus? Would she do whatever proved necessary to save their relationship?

Siobhan focused on the warrior woman who hurried around her bedroom, readying tools she’d demanded the guards bring her after Lazarus had exited—two chisels, anvils, a rasp and a file. She loved her friends, would die to protect them; she sought joy.

Reminds me of the girl I used to be.

Once Siobhan would have done absolutely anything to win Hades. If she and Cameo were alike...

Decision made. New plans forged. Yes, I will aid her.





9

“Step six: Slaughter your enemy, as well as everyone he loves—then celebrate your triumph.”

—How to Achieve Victory