The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld #13)

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!

“Well?” she demanded. “Are you going to spank me or not?”

“Do you want to be spanked?”

“Do you want to lose a hand?”

“As if you’d remove one of the only means capable of giving you pleasure.”

Air punched from her lungs. “Let me guess. The others are your other hand, your mouth and...?”

“And everything else about me. My voice...my scent...hell, even my mind. Face it, sunshine. You crave the total package.”

I do. I really do. “What about your cock...iness?” Oookay. They were headed down a dangerous path. Time to change the subject. “Never mind. What language did you speak to the sky serpents?”

He allowed the change without protest. “Typhonish, the language used by my father.” Warm breath fanned her cheek. “You, sunshine, are exquisite. Resisting the urge to touch you has been hard. Very, very hard.”

A shiver slipped down her spine. “You’re touching me now. You didn’t resist.”

“And I have yet to hear your thanks.”

Part of her wanted to laugh. Most of her wanted to cry. All of her wanted him.

Okay, it was time for another subject change. “How’d you acquire the goddess of Many Futures’ mirror?”

Again, he allowed the change without protest. “Inherited it with the palace. Why?”

Act casual. “Have you seen your futures?”

His posture grew more rigid. “Have you?”

Why not tell him? Give and you shall receive. “Yes. Two possibilities. In the first, we returned to the palace and had sex. Congrats! It was good. Then you escorted me to the portal, briefly considered killing me, but ultimately walked away without saying goodbye.”

He flattened his hands on her thighs, and she sucked in a breath. “So we have sex, and it’s good,” he breathed into her ear. “You’re very welcome.”

Anticipation held her at the edge of a cliff, her insides buzzing and heating. What else would he do? “Why would you want to kill me?” she asked, a tremor in her tone. “You aren’t like others. You don’t react to my voice.”

He stiffened, but said silkily, “I’m sure you gave me reason. But I walked away, yes? Reward me?”

As he spoke, his fingers played with her knee. The anticipation began to agonize her. But one minute bled into two. He did nothing more, the bastard.

“No reward for you,” she grated.

“Very well. No reward for you. So what was the second vision?” he asked. “Tell me about it.”

“I returned home the same day as the others.”

“And?”

“And nothing. The mirror blanked.”

“Little wonder I’m leaning toward vision one. The things I can do to you before you go...” He gently pressed his knees against the flanks of the Pegasus. Those feathered wings lifted, hiding her and Lazarus from the rest of the world as he nuzzled her cheek. “Or maybe we should ignore the mirror and create a new path, spend the entire night together as I’ve wanted from the beginning. Would you like a taste of the pleasure I’ll give you?”

Yes! No. Maybe? She licked her lips, tempted, so wildly tempted. But why enjoy an appetizer when she couldn’t have the full meal? Why forge precious memories the demon would turn around and steal? Or even hold hostage. Life was torturous enough already.

“Fair warning,” she grated. If she couldn’t resist Lazarus’s appeal, she would do everything in her power to ensure he resisted hers. “Misery told me I could keep my memories of you if I killed you. He hates you.”

The demon hissed. How dare you tattle!

“He wants me dead dead?” Lazarus shrugged, unconcerned. “He’ll have to get in line.”

A flare of hope. “You aren’t upset or surprised?”

“Demons hate people and love destruction. I’d be surprised if he liked me.”

“But he could hurt you,” she admitted quietly. “Over the centuries, he’s encouraged people to kill themselves. And he’s...” She licked her lips. “He convinced me to end my life once. Or six times. Maybe twelve.”

He stiffened, as rigid as steel. “You tried to kill yourself a dozen times?”

She gulped, nodded. “The sorrow had become too much to bear.” Each time, her friends had found her broken and bloody, and their disappointment and hurt had only added to her problems, breaking an already splintered heart.

Can’t ever win.

Lazarus tightened his hold on her, as if he feared she would float away like a balloon. “I don’t need the mirror to tell me what’s in your immediate future. You’re going to come.”

He traced a path of fire up, up... She stopped breathing, her belly quivering, an ache blooming between her legs, but he merely played with the waist of her shorts.

“Do you want to come?” he whispered into her ear. “Give me one night.”

Goose bumps broke out over her skin. “You don’t want weeks of sexual bliss as predicted by the mirror?”

He tightened his hold, almost bruising her. “One night is all I can offer. Nothing more, nothing less.”