The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld #13)

Juliette would pay.

Trembling, Cameo pulled on her shirt. As Lazarus donned his, his motions were sharpened by a dark rage she’d only ever glimpsed inside the griffin’s cave. He should be overjoyed. One of his dreams was about to come true.

She sheathed one of his daggers and checked the magazine of a small semiautomatic he’d stored in his boot. Excellent. Fully loaded.

“Hope you don’t mind, but I’m borrowing these,” she told him.

He glowered at her. “Keep them. They are yours. But stay here.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Please.”

As the only female in a group of strong, burly males, she’d heard a variation of that very command—stay here—so many times she’d lost count.

“Screw you, darkpit.” She had to work harder than her male friends simply to be regarded as an equal. While doing so, she had to endure ridicule. What men considered strength in other men, they considered malicious in her. She had to fight to be heard after listening to repeated mansplaining. “Your former consort needs to learn I’m a formidable enemy. Apparently, so do you. Also, she needs to know your ass belongs to me.”

“Cameo—”

“No. No excuses about the big strong man protecting the weak little female. If you want me in your bed, you’ll have to accept me at your side. No other outcome is tolerable.” Okay, she’d just taken a huge gamble. Before, Lazarus had only requested a night with her. He’d just agreed to more, but not because he liked her or couldn’t go on without her. Because he feared for her safety.

Oh, she knew he still desired her. He had a fully loaded AK-47 under his straining fly every time he glanced in her direction. Was desire enough to herald her happiness—and sustain it?

He’d been clear from the beginning that he wanted to wed a queen, not for love. That he wanted an alliance, an army. He didn’t consider her marriage material.

The reminder stung, and Misery gloated.

His eyes narrowed as he palmed a dagger. “Your heart is too sweet.”

“Are you talking about my heart, or one of the hearts I keep in a jar at home?”

He blew her a kiss. “I know what you’re doing. Extolling violent escapades so I’ll see you as a warrior rather than a passionate woman, but it’s not going to—”

She grabbed his balls and twisted. “I am a warrior.”

“Work,” he finished on a high note. When she released him, he rubbed his precious. “Very well. You can come with me.”

“Gee whiz. You’re letting me come with you? You’re swell. Just the best!”

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “If you get hurt, even a single scratch—”

“You’ll rage, and people will die, blah, blah, blah. We can’t have your one-night stand unable to perform her duties, now, can we?”

“Oh, you’ll perform your duties, all right, or people won’t just die, sunshine. They’ll beg to die.”

How could he be so sexy and so infuriating at the same time? “Let’s stop chatting and go get exhibit one of two in ‘Lazarus’s Quest for Vengeance.’”

His dark gaze held her captive for a blissful eternity, those ebony irises deepening and swirling, almost hypnotizing her. Then he stalked out the door. She raced after him. The hallway had been emptied of guards. Inside the club itself, Sent Ones pushed the remaining guests outside. Guests who were more than happy to leave. No one wanted to be in the path of an enraged Harpy, much less an entire clan.

There would be carnage.

Cameo moved to one of the windows in back. A beautiful garden bloomed with night roses, the macabre petals bloodred. At the edge stood the Harpies. They were well-armed, and they surrounded the building, perfectly backlit by glittering stars and the glow of a vibrant moon.

Juliette claimed the helm, the wind lifting her dark tresses and the hem of her short leather skirt.

Lazarus is going to be enslaved. Misery pretended to choke on a sob. He’s going to blame you, hate you.

“There are more than a hundred Harpies out there and only two of us,” Cameo said, doing her best to ignore the demon.

“I know. Poor Harpies.” Lazarus stopped directly behind her and rested a hand on her hip.

The strange tingling started up again, but as the warmth of his breath caressed the top of her head, she shivered with delight.

Misery hissed and even lapsed into silence.

“If I unleash the demon,” she said, refusing to claim him with the word my, “he can incapacitate the Harpy forces with sorrow. We can pick them off one by one without risking injury.”

“And incapacitate you in the process, I’m sure.”

“Yes,” she admitted. Terribly so. Ceding the reins of control allowed Misery to fill her with so much despair she longed for death. Only with time and a miracle would she break free from his clutches.

“No.” Lazarus shook his head, determined. “We fight.”

Wasn’t willing to achieve his vengeance the easy way? A shock!

More sexy than infuriating...

“The club has been cleared.” Thane approached, the tips of his wings brushing against the floor. “The Harpies gave me an ultimatum. Kill Cameo, or start a war. I do not appreciate ultimatums, so I’ve decided to start a war. We’ll stand with you in this battle.”

Beside him stood Bjorn and a seven-foot-tall Berserker—the master of the club’s guard. Bjorn nodded, and the Berserker stepped forward, saying, “As will I.” Where was Xerxes?

She expected Lazarus to protest. His vengeance, his battle. He added to her shock by nodding his thanks.

Wait. Had he agreed to their help as a means of protecting her?

More infuriating than sexy.

She wasn’t weak. And she would prove it!

There was no sign of Viola or the bartender who’d absconded with her. Too bad. Would have been nice to fight beside the goddess and her furry sidekick. My new best friends.

Who are you kidding? You have no friends. What could you possibly bring to the table?

Misery wanted to depress her before the big battle so she would be felled quickly and easily. A tactic he’d used many times before.

What do I bring to the table? she asked the demon. Easy. The table. I built it.

“By the way, you chose the right side,” Lazarus told the others. “I’ve summoned my sky serpents.”

He had? When?

He said, “They should arrive—”

High-pitched screeches echoed through the club.

Over a dozen sky serpents hovered in the sky, their membranous wings gliding up and down. Their huge, jewel-toned bodies radiated tension while their tails were coiled, ready to lash. Accelerant dripped from their fangs. With every exhalation, brilliant blue flames crackled inside their nostrils.

Lazarus offered a cold grin. “Now.”

“You will, of course, be liable for any damage the building sustains,” Thane said.