The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld #13)

Lights out, Harpy.

Dizzy, panting, she searched the battlefield. The sky serpents had thinned out the enemy herd while the Sent Ones had felled their fair share of Harpies—without actually killing the women. Bjorn and Xerxes were in the process of confining the injured females inside a cage camouflaged by stone.

Only Juliette remained on her feet. Well, not her feet. Not exactly. Lazarus had her by the throat, her legs flailing through the air. She clawed at him, desperate to win her freedom.

Crimson splattered him from head to toe, especially thick down the inseam of his pants. His shirt and a good portion of his skin had been shredded. Obvious strain tightened the skin around his eyes and mouth, Juliette’s weight seemingly more than he could tolerate. His lips were pulled back from his teeth in a fierce scowl.

Was the Harpy’s bronzed flesh...turning gray?

Juliette’s wild gaze darted over her surroundings, probably seeking anything or anyone she could use against her tormentor. When she spotted Cameo, she gasped, “Box. Know...who...box.”

Only one box mattered to Cameo. Pandora’s. Did Juliette know who possessed it?

Heart slamming against her ribs, Cameo called, “Lazarus.” With her jaw still out of place, she slurred his name.

He gave no notice of her. Was his thirst for vengeance so great he’d lost track of everything else? Or did he simply not care what she had to say?

After everything they’d done in bed, the second possibility hurt worse than the beating she’d taken.

“Lazarus,” she repeated, springing forward. She tripped over a body, but remained upright and kept running. “Let her go. You have to let her go.” If Juliette knew who had the box, Cameo needed her alive. At least for a little while.

Yes, the Harpy had probably lied to save herself. And if so, her death would be a thousand times worse. But better safe than sorry when the lives of Cameo’s loved ones were at stake.

She crashed into Lazarus, expecting him to stumble; he toppled to the ground, instead, losing his grip on Juliette. The Harpy rolled and sprang to her feet.

Nooo! Cameo made a play for her, but even winded, Juliette managed to fake a left and then zoom right. She sprinted away, and Cameo gave chase. They neared the edge of the cloud. The Harpy would have to stop and—

Juliette dived, falling from view. Cameo skidded to a stop before she, too, plummeted to her death.

One of the griffins swooped underneath Juliette, catching the Harpy on his back, and relief showered Cameo. There would be another fight—another chance to get answers.

The remaining sky serpents hissed at her, reminding her an enemy still lurked nearby. Lazarus’s pets would love to punish her...and so would Lazarus.

He roared. “Why, Cameo? Tell me why!”

She closed her eyes and rested her jaw against her shoulder. With a shove, she forced her jaw into place—and nearly doubled her over with pain.

When she’d calmed, she said, “You heard her.” She pointed in the direction Juliette had flown. “Your consort might know where to find Pandora’s box.”

“She was never mine.” He reached Cameo’s side, his gaze spitting fire at her. “And she doesn’t know.”

“How can you be sure?”

His eyes filled with guilt and anger. Why guilt? “I just am.”

“Well, I want to talk to her before you kill her. Okay?”

A sky serpent landed behind him and squawked.

“No,” Lazarus shouted. His gaze remained on Cameo as he grated at the creature, “She isn’t to be harmed. Ever. Not by you.”

Not by you. And wasn’t that reassuring?

“I’m returning to Budapest,” she said. “You can come with me, or you can stay here. Right now I don’t exactly care. Actually, I do care. Stay here!” A mimic of his earlier command to her. How would a guy feel about reversed chauvinism? “When my wounds heal, I’m going to find Juliette and have a chat with her. And she had better be alive. The safety of my family is more important than your vengeance. Do you hear me?”

“I think everyone heard you,” he snapped.

Cameo stormed around him, first glaring at the sky serpent, then the Sent Ones. “Someone better volunteer to give me a ride home, or I’m going to start singing a lullaby.”

All three Sent Ones and their Berserker friend begged for the privilege. And, okay, wow, the sky serpent prostrated himself to allow easy access to his back.

Maybe the knock to her skull had destroyed her sense of self-preservation since she decided to go with the sky serpent. Sure, he’d like to rip her to shreds and suck the marrow from her bones, but so what? If he ate her, he ate her. If he dropped her midair, he dropped her. She’d either die or survive. Right now she wasn’t sure which one she most wanted to happen.

What the creature wouldn’t do? Lecture her.

Sky serpent for the win. All aboard the SS Express.

She approached him only to pause and glare at Lazarus. “Will humans see us and freak out?”

“No. He’ll camouflage himself.”

Camouflage? A puff of white smoke wafted from the sky serpent’s nostrils, covering and hiding him.

“Well. That explains how you’ve gone so long without detection,” she said, marching forward.

“Cameo.” Lazarus shouted her name, somehow turning three syllables into a harsh command.

“Nope. Our conversation is over.” She settled onto her transport.

“I will come for you,” he said. “I will always come for you.”

He’d said those words before. The first time, they’d been a promise, both sweet and reassuring. Today, they sounded like a warning.





20

“Never apologize. Always apologize, but only ever to your woman.”

—Becoming the Monster You Were Born to Be

—The Art of Keeping Your Female Happy

Three days. Three torturous days Lazarus remained parted from his Cameo. He’d reached his limit.

He gnashed his molars, his jaw aching in protest. He had yet to leave the guest room at Downfall. Because of Juliette, he wasn’t strong enough to rejoin his μονομαν?α. Toward the end of the battle, the Harpy had gotten her claws into his groin and, with a victory shout, removed one of his testicles. He’d been too slow to stop her.

He’d used his time to create a leather sheath for Pandora’s box, lining it with thin chain mail as an added layer of protection. The craftsmanship was flawless, and yet no match for Cameo’s.

Surprisingly, the separation from her had agonized him far more than the loss of his man-egg. He should have healed by now. No Cameo, no worsening. Yet he’d begun to regenerate only this morning.

Whatever the reason, Juliette would pay for his imprisonment and the days apart from his woman. She would pay with her life, yes, but first she would bleed.