The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld #13)

“—okay?” Her voice penetrated his awareness as the chime faded. “Where do you hurt? What can I do?”

“I think...I think I strained my cock. Kiss it and make it better?”

Concern gave way to relief and annoyance, and she slapped his chest.

“You’re not funny.” She turned away from him and dug through the bags.

“I kinda am.”

“Let’s check out our supplies. We’ve got—Yes! Hades packed the Paring Rod,” she said.

Beautiful bastard. He’d solved Lazarus’s biggest problem. “What else?” He eased into a sitting position and rolled his healing shoulder to pop the joint back into place.

“A change of clothes, a box of condoms with the name Spawn Be Gone, two canteens of water, a can of caviar and a box of organic crackers, toothpaste, wet wipes, a backscratcher, a small bottle of Febreeze, a package of earplugs—” She stiffened, ground her teeth. “What a dirty rat. He only packed one pair of plugs, implying your voice isn’t upsetting to me.”

Lazarus hid a smile behind his hand. “I’d punish him for you, but, you know, I’m dying.” When she glowered at him, he said, “What? Too soon?”

She snapped her teeth at him before holding up a spotted stuffed leopard. “A toy version of Rathbone the Only. I wonder why he sent it.”

Lazarus could guess. With a snarl, he confiscated the doll and tossed it into the pit the land mine had created.

“Hey! What’d you do that for?” Cameo demanded. “He was cute.”

“And he would have loved hearing you say so, which is why he had to go.”

Lazarus scanned ahead and spotted a crystalline river rushing over precious gems the size of boulders. A crystal bridge led to the only splash of white on the horizon. A twisting staircase that wound up a moss-covered hill and ended in front of alabaster columns. The entrance to the temple? How long since Hera had visited?

Hidden within the spectacular beauty were signs of neglect. Overgrown weeds, chips in the precious gems and a section removed from the middle of the bridge.

“Anything else in the bags?” he asked.

“Yeah. A pair of binoculars. A square cloth.” She gasped with excitement. “Not a cloth, but the Cloak of Invisibility. And this! This belongs to Danika, the All-seeing Eye.” She held up a small four-by-four square tile with only one marking. A name in the corner. Danika Lord. “But aren’t there images?”

Brow furrowing, he claimed the tile and held it under a beam of light. The surface... Something struck him as odd. The slightly yellowed spots, perhaps?

Cameo withdrew a metal pipe from the bag, looked it over and squealed. “I think this came from the Cage of Compulsion.” She snatched the tile from him and clutched all four items—the Cloak, the Rod, pipe and tile—to her chest. “These are mine. Try and take them and I’ll—” Her lips pressed into a firm line.

Couldn’t think of a threat great enough?

No matter. He’d already thought of the worst-case scenario. If something were to happen to Lazarus out here—or anywhere—and his woman didn’t know where the box was or what it looked like...anyone could steal it.

His silence could have cost her big-time.

No more hiding it. He pulled the necklace from under his shirt and stroked his thumb over the leather casing. “This...is what you’ve spent centuries searching for.”

She eyed the leather-bound pendant and snorted. “Nice try, but I’m not buying your bull anymore.” But even as she spoke, her gaze remained glued to the artifact he’d once called “dangerous.” Frowning, she rubbed her nape. “What is it? Really.”

He opened his mind, desperate to know her thoughts, but she’d erected her shield. He wasn’t surprised, but he was still disappointed. He craved a connection with her. “It is the box, I assure you. The bones were crushed and reshaped.”

“Impossible. To be remade, it would have to be opened. I would be dead.”

“It was opened. By you and your friends. I’m willing to bet Hera is the one who stole it while you were distracted. Then, before she hid it, she remade it to ensure no one would recognize it if ever it was found.”

“Then how did you recognize it? What about the Morning Star thought to be inside?”

“It was concealed inside a skull, next to what I thought was the box. I knew Kadence, the goddess of Oppression. Her bones were used to make it, and I felt her power. As for the Morning Star, I don’t know.”

Cameo leaned back, balanced on her haunches, her nails digging into her thighs. “All this time, you’ve had the box, the artifact capable of killing the only people I love, hanging around your cursed neck?” Rage crackled in her tone.

Tread carefully. “You sensed it. You and all the others.” The others. The only people she loved, as if Lazarus had no place in her heart. Calm, steady. “It never harmed you. Not really. In fact, it might have helped you suppress the demon. That’s why it was made, after all. To stop evil.”

He should have considered the possibility before, but hadn’t let himself. His conscience would have insisted he give the box to Cameo...then she would have had no need to keep him around.

An eternity passed, the only sounds coming from the rushing river and howling monkeys. The branch above them shook, golden leaves raining around them. Finally, she placed the other artifacts on the ground and held out her hand, palm up.

She waved her fingers. “Give me the apple. Or box. Whatever.”

He met and held her gaze, saw a deluge of hurt and anger and felt as if the daggers tattooed on his chest had manifested and stabbed him. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he croaked. Before her, he’d never issued a sincere apology; now he couldn’t do it enough. “I’m sorry I waited to tell you about the box.”

“How ironic. You seek my forgiveness, and yet you refuse to forgive those who have wronged you.” Another wave of her fingers. “The apple.”

Still he hesitated, grating, “Our situations are not the same.”

“Aren’t they?”

No! How could he make her understand her safety meant more to him than his own? How could he prove the intensity of his feelings for her? “When Hades offered vengeance on a silver platter, I declined. I chose you.”

“You chose death!”

With her, they were one and the same. However, he kept those words to himself. “Do you want me to kill Hera? I won’t. I won’t risk you.”

“No. I will kill her.”

And change the future.

“She’s a threat to you, and threats get cut,” she said, her voice firm but hollow. “Afterward, you and I will part.”

Never! He scrubbed his free hand down his face, clearing the soot from his eyes. “I will stay with you until the end.”

The color drained from her cheeks.

Have to make her understand. “Let me stay with you, and I will trust your friends, allow them to search for a cure.” A major step for him.

“There is a cure, you fool,” she screeched.

“A different cure,” he amended. “One that allows us to stay together. When we’re back at home, the box is yours. I’ll trust you not to hurt yourself, and you’ll trust me again.”