The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld #13)

He wore a loincloth. His muscles were bigger than Lazarus’s and the top half of him sapphire, the bottom half of him emerald.

He spread long feathered wings, only to retract them and arrow through the beasts. In each hand he clutched a small hatchet.

“Who is he?” she asked.

Lazarus cast a glance over his shoulder and frowned. “Don’t know. But I will allow him to live since he isn’t harming my pets.”

True. Even though both griffins and sky serpents treated the newcomer as an enemy, biting and slashing at him.

“I wonder why he’s helping you,” she said.

“Or you. Perhaps he’s another of Hades’s emissaries.”

“Another?”

He disregarded her question, saying, “Perhaps he’s lulling the sky serpents into a false sense of safety. No matter. They’ll defeat him, too.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“My father trained them just as he trained me.”

So...they had been dropped into dangerous situations and left to fend for themselves? “I know Queen Hera—”

“Former queen,” he snapped. “Her title has been stripped.”

“Right. The former queen hid your father, yes?”

His expression twisted with a flash of rage. “Yes.”

“Tell me.” She rubbed her cheek against his. “Please.”

“He...lost mobility. He could walk, barely, but he couldn’t swing a sword. She swooped in and killed my mother while he and I watched. He was unable to do anything about it, and my efforts were ineffective. Then she flashed him away.”

Telling him You were only a child wouldn’t alleviate his guilt. Guilt always found a way to poke and prod at a heart that sought absolution.

“You’re no longer a boy,” she said. “You’re a man. The strongest one I know.”

A heavy pause. Then, with clenched teeth, he said, “I’m just like my father.”

“How?”

“I am—I don’t wish to speak of this any longer.” He adjusted her more firmly against him, his thumbs brushing against the undersides of her breasts.

A distraction? Too bad. She ignored the resurgence of heat in her body. “The queen I remember loathed the male species. Why would she keep your father?”

Oh, Cameo had heard the rumors. Zeus had locked Hera in his tower, enslaving and impregnating her. Then, when he’d broken her at long last, wedding and releasing her. Over the ensuing years, Hera had proved unbroken, sleeping with any man the king of the Greeks considered an enemy—or friend. She’d made secret deals with other powerful queens to ensure the most powerful males of myth and legend lost everything they held dear.

Had the formidable Typhon and his wife gotten caught in her crosshairs?

“A trophy, perhaps,” Lazarus finally replied.

She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him, offering comfort. “I’m sorry.”

“Typhon’s relationship with my mother weakened him.”

Cameo heard bitterness...and accusation? Did he think she weakened him?

A perceived weakness could be the reason he demanded a single night and eschewed anything more. To win him, she’d have to prove she strengthened him.

Did she? Could she?

He added, “Hera had no desire to hurt a child, or so she claimed, but she knew I would grow into a man. She used the Paring Rod to clip off a sliver of my spirit. Meaning, the owner of the artifact had the power to control me. When I was older, she gave the Paring Rod to Juliette. Gave the Harpy a piece of me, as if I were property.”

Her grip on him tightened. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, tears welling in her eyes.

“I will punish both females. I must.” Hatred laced his words, giving his tone frightening ferocity. “I, too, will keep a trophy.”

The demon purred with delight, sensing what Cameo hadn’t. The “need” for revenge was just another form of misery. As long as Lazarus remained focused on the wrongs done to him, he would never see what was right.

Poor Cameo. Never the priority. Always the consolation.

I’m not his consolation!

But...wasn’t she? Lazarus would never put her needs above his desire for retribution. With him, she would always come in second place. If she ranked at all. And wasn’t that a depressing thought.

For once, Lazarus didn’t try to tease her out of her bad mood, and it worried her.

Buck up! His view of me doesn’t matter. Thanks to Viola’s ring, we’ll be parting soon. In fact, we might never see each other again.

The pep talk failed to cheer her up.

As their group motored on, the only sound to be heard was the thunder of horse hooves and panting breaths. Eventually they were far enough away from the action—and the griffins who would surely try to follow—to open a new portal. One that led directly to the portal home.

Lazarus had to open the portal again and again to allow the entire contingent of soldiers to walk through. He and Cameo entered last.

“We’re here,” he said, his voice flat.

Already?

To his men, he called, “Halt.” He dismounted and helped Cameo and Ever do the same before draping the satchel that contained the griffin heart over his shoulder.

Viola appeared as promised, the stolen metals nowhere to be found, her arms cradling Princess Fluffikans.

Urban refused Lazarus’s aid and hopped down on his own to bow. “My most beautiful majesty.”

“Laying it on a little thick, kid.” Viola gently tapped him on the chin.

“I’m not a kid, I’m a warrior.”

Fetid air wafted to Cameo, and she wrinkled her nose. A dreary, gray landscape surrounded their group. Bare trees stooped over, as if they had been defeated by life and had just given up. At least fifteen different animals were scattered across a bloodstained ground, each in a different stage of decomposition. Insects crawled through empty eye sockets and hollowed torsos. Small, misshapen creatures chewed on the bones.

Viola’s brows knit with...confusion? “Something’s off. Well, no matter. I’ve braved through worse.”

Ever clapped and rushed forward, her arms outstretched. “Look! A puppy! Can he come with us? Please?”

“Ever,” Cameo called. “Stop!”

Lazarus linked their fingers and squeezed. His other hand remained in his pocket, jiggling whatever he’d stored in there. “The girl is fine, I promise you. At least physically. Anyone else would have run in the opposite direction.”

He led her forward and...the terrain changed in a blink. Cameo gasped. Here, the sun shone from a gloriously blue sky. Trees stood tall, leaves lush and amber. The color of happiness, just like Lazarus’s eyes. She inhaled deeply. The air smelled clean and fresh.

The carcasses were gone. So were the insects and the creep-fest of animals.

Ever stomped her foot. “No fair. I want my puppy.”

“Aunt Katarina will find the perfect dog for you,” Urban told her. “She vowed it, remember?”

“How is this possible?” Cameo demanded of Lazarus. He was responsible, guaranteed.

“You know of my ability to read minds. I’m also able to...affect minds. I can create illusions. Usually those illusions work,” he added drily.

Was there nothing this man couldn’t do? “So you created the rotten terrain?”

“Yes.”