The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld #13)

Episode. What an innocent, insufficient word for the deluge of sorrow she’d so often endured.

He continued. “I asked Keeley if there is a way to save him, but every time she thinks about him, she gets wrapped up in two words. Well, three words if you count his name. Lazarus, king and butterflies.”

So. Cameo had been right all along. Butterflies did herald doom.

Light-headed, she reached out, found and twisted the doorknob, closing the door in Torin’s face. Tears filled her eyes as she raced back into the room and found Lazarus sitting on the edge of the bed.

He wore a wrinkled shirt and a pair of pants. His weapons were already in place. As he tugged on his boot, rage shimmered in his eyes.

“You know,” he said, his voice flat.

“Know that I’m the one killing you?” A barbed lump grew inside her throat. “Yes. I want you to go, Lazarus. Now. Never come back. You aren’t welcome here anymore.”

He yanked on the second boot and stood to his full seven-foot height. Unwilling to meet his gaze, Cameo strode to the closet, where she discarded her robe and dressed in a sports bra, a pair of fighting leathers and a tank top.

When she emerged, he was right there to greet her, backing her into the wall. “I won’t give you up,” he grated.

A promise. A promise that caused her heart to split down the center and bleed into her chest. “You don’t have a choice.”

“I always have a choice.”

Oh, really? She slapped him with every bit of her strength. Crimson leaked from his mouth as his head whipped to the side. His gaze narrowed to tiny slits.

“I attacked you,” she spit at him. “Go ahead. Tell me I’m your enemy now.”

His hands wrapped around her vulnerable neck. Instead of squeezing, he grazed his thumb over her wild pulse. “You will never be my enemy. Hit me all you want, love. I will never hit back.”

“Don’t call me your love.” He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t. The man who loved her would not betray her. “You are choosing to let me destroy you. You are choosing to let me deal with guilt and misery when you’re gone. You are choosing to—” Leave me. Her chin trembled. She quieted before she began to sob. Can’t do this.

She pointed to the door, her message clear.

Lazarus released her. Rather than leaving, he flattened his palms at her temples and leaned in until they were nose to nose, breathing each other’s breath the way they’d done when they’d last kissed. The memory would forever—

The memory. Her eyes widened. She could allow Misery to wipe her mind. And she would leave herself a note, warning herself about Lazarus. No, a note could be disposed of too easily. She could tattoo herself. Then Lazarus would have no reason to stay.

With the thought, she couldn’t breathe. Forget the bliss she experienced with this man? Forget his every kiss, his every touch and the feel of his body filling hers? Forget how she’d had hope for a better future, if only for a little while?

A fierce growl rose from him. “You will not forget me, Cameo.”

“My choice,” she said softly.

“Do it, then. Go so far as to tattoo yourself. I won’t leave you. I’ll stay here and romance you back into my arms.”

Have to stay the course. It’s for his own good. “You can try, but I’ll resist you.” She would find a way.

His hands fisted. “You want to keep me around, love. Trust me.”

“I don’t, I can’t—”

“Cameo, I have the box.”

No...he couldn’t. “You’re lying.”

“I often misdirect, misguide and mislead, but I never lie. I found it, fought for it, and now I guard it to save your life.”

Her earlier doubt resurfaced, but still she shook her head. “Keeley would have known—”

“Wrong. I used an illusion to hide its presence from her.”

“Your illusions aren’t strong enough—”

Suddenly the entire room erupted into orange-gold flames. They crackled around her bed, underneath the mirror Lazarus had given her, and on her curtains and rug. Heat enveloped her, and sweat popped up on her upper lip. She opened her mouth to shout for an extinguisher, but the flames vanished, taking the heat with them.

“You were saying?” Lazarus asked quietly.

“You...you bastard! You let me worry other immortals would find and destroy the box before I could find it. You let me stew over Juliette. Did you secretly laugh at me behind my back?”

“Never. I’ve only ever laughed at you to your face.”

Jokes? Now? Cameo slapped him again. “Where is it?” she demanded. “Tell me.”

“That, I won’t do.” He wiped the new stream of blood from his mouth before placing his hands against the wall behind her, caging her in. “You would use it to kill yourself.”

“I would never—” She pressed her lips together. Wouldn’t she? If Misery made her miserable enough... “Give the box to Torin. He won’t let me near it, and my friends will be protected from it.”

“And what will I receive in return?”

The question hung between them, a noose around her neck. After everything he’d done, how dare he try to bargain with her?

Knock, knock, knock.

“Go away,” Lazarus shouted, never looking away from her. “Well?”

Needing time to think, she ducked underneath his arm to open the door, expecting to find Torin. William and Hades stood before her, armed for war and unsmiling.

“We want the mirror.” William was steady on his feet. Actually, he’d never looked steadier. Determination cloaked him. Had he found Gilly, or a new reason to live? “We’re willing to trade for it.”

Can’t deal with this right now. “No, thanks,” she replied, and tried to shut the door.

Neither male flinched at the sound of her voice. Both slammed a hand on the ancient wood, ensuring the entryway stayed open.

Lazarus moved directly behind her, his heat enveloping her. She had never been so furious with another being. Not even Galen, after he’d removed her tongue. The man she’d accepted into her bed, her body, and her now decimated heart, had betrayed her. Had kept secrets from her. Had let her worry for nothing.

“What do you offer?” Lazarus asked.

Hades arched a brow, his mien as beautiful and sardonic as it was deadly. “What you desire most. Two round-trip tickets to Hera’s secret temple.”

Cameo inhaled sharply. The one thing Lazarus couldn’t refuse. His vengeance.

He stiffened, seconds eking by in silence. Finally, he said, “No. You want the mirror, you have to release me from your service. I’m done with war, done with vengeance. I wish to spend the rest of my days with Cameo.”