The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld #13)

“Or I’ll take the box.”

In the distance, a flock of golden birds took flight. He palmed a dagger and jumped to his feet. “We should go, shouldn’t stay in one place too long.”

Ever the warrior, Cameo moved beside him. “If Hera is here, she’ll be inside the temple. On the flip side, if she were here, she would have sensed our presence and ambushed us.”

“Not necessarily. If she could sense a breach, she wouldn’t have bothered with traps.”

He opened his mind, searching for other living beings, hoping to summon a sky serpent or two. He ignored the birds, monkeys, insects and an assortment of other animals, and concentrated on a dark presence...hungry, so damned hungry...and closing in fast. Enemy!

“Time to beat feet,” he said.

He anchored the go bags to his shoulders, grabbed Cameo’s hand and sprinted toward the river.

*

What was she going to do?

Cameo couldn’t escape the tumultuous storm of emotions raging inside her. Lazarus had carried Pandora’s box around his neck all this time. He’d told her he would never lie to her—while already trapped in the midst of one. He’d denied her the opportunity to make an informed decision with her friends: attempt to suppress the demons or to destroy the box.

The bastard had box-blocked her!

Lazarus ground to a halt, and she slammed into his back. At the top of her to-do list: remain aware.

Steam thickened the air, making it harder to breathe as she scanned the newest terrain. A field of wildflowers stretched before them, lush and lovely and without the poisoned dew, except...it was a trap. Upon closer inspection, she realized the ground was murky marsh.

“Quicksand,” Lazarus said. “And there.” He pointed to the right. “The flowers cover another land mine.”

Misery laughed as he led her to the left, away from the temple. Unfortunately, there was no other way to go. They had to bypass the marsh and circle back.

They remained on the fringe of the field, caught between the forest and the marsh, careful not to step anywhere they shouldn’t—

An eel-like creature burst from a muddy puddle of water, his fangs bared. Cameo caught him by his slimy neck, preventing him from biting her. His slippery body wiggled.

“Um, a little help, please.”

With a slash of his dagger, Lazarus removed the creature’s head. Grimacing, she tossed the still-wiggling body back into the puddle. Other eels—or whatever they were—jumped up to snack on the remains.

Here you were either predator or prey. Got it.

“The tile Hades packed,” Lazarus said.

“Yeah? What about it?”

“I have an idea.” He stopped under a golden tree and fished out the tile. He angled it toward the light, then angled it toward the shadows cast by the forest. “Everything he provided serves a purpose, except the tile. Why?”

“Maybe it does serve a purpose. We just can’t see it.”

“Exactly. Hades has been known to use invisible ink and paints.”

A spark of excitement. “How do we make the invisible visible?”

“That, I don’t yet know.”

“Well, let’s think like Hades.” I’m a self-important male with a warped sense of humor. I enjoy torturing my enemies, taunting my friends and winning, whatever the cost. Wow. Hades and Lazarus could be brothers from other mothers. I have an unhealthy obsession with making other people bleed. I—

Bleed. Blood. The source of life. Excitement heating up, Cameo whipped out a dagger and dragged the blade over her palm.

Lazarus snatched the dagger from her grip, as if she had no right to injure herself—or better yet, his property. “You do not harm—”

“Too late.” A pool of crimson welled. She held her fist over the tile, letting the thick droplets slide down...down...and splash over the surface.

Images began to appear on the tile.

“You did it,” Lazarus said, his pride unmistakable.

She ignored the urge to preen under his praise and studied the images. A...map? Yes! The forest, marsh and temple were clearly marked. So were the different traps.

“If we continue on this path for roughly two miles,” Lazarus said, “we can use this bridge to reach the temple.”

“The bridge is booby-trapped.”

“Yes, but we can go over them.”

“How? In case you haven’t noticed, neither one of us has wings, and the birds aren’t big enough to saddle and ride.”

He gently chucked her under the chin. “Have a little faith in your man.”

Her skin tingled, and her newly awakened lusts surged. She trembled. He’s more dangerous than the realm. Cameo wrenched away. “You mean the man who lied to me?”

“I believe you mean the man who admitted to his crime, even though he could have taken the secret to his grave.” His gaze slid past her, and every muscle in his body stiffened. “We’re being followed. Come on.”

As he linked their fingers and trudged ahead, she glanced backward. About a hundred yards away, a storm cloud rolled across the sky, spraying the land with mist. Birds fell from the sky like feathered missiles. Trees withered.

“Go, go, go,” she commanded.

Lazarus picked up the pace—until a vine darted out, wrapped around his ankle and jerked him high into the air. He hung upside down, the bags slipping from his shoulders and crashing into Cameo.

Shit! There wasn’t enough time to cut him down and escape the death mist.

“Go.” He issued the command this time. “Leave me.”

Misery snickered.

Determined to save Lazarus, Cameo dug through the bags, withdrew the Cloak of Invisibility, the Paring Rod and the pipe that was taken from the Cage of Compulsion. “Leave it to the woman to save the day—and the mansel in distress.”





27

“A man cannot be led by two opposing forces, for truth cannot coexist with a lie. Love cannot coexist with hate.”

—Memoir of a Maddened King

—Memoir of a Besotted Fool

Plagued by urgency and fear, Lazarus lifted his upper body and stretched out his arms, his muscles screaming in protest. In the last hour, the crystals had spread and thickened, slowing his reflexes considerably. His fingers found the dagger in his boot. With one hand, he grabbed hold of the vine that was wrapped around his ankle. With the other, he used the dagger to saw.

At last the vine broke. Bracing for impact, he tumbled toward a bank of moss—only to be caught by another vine and hang upside down a second time. He unleashed a stream of obscenities. Still the dark cloud approached, headed directly for Cameo.

As graceful as a swan, she unfolded a piece of gray cloth until it formed a hooded cape. When she placed the cape over her shoulders and lifted the hood, she vanished. Not even Lazarus could see her. Good, that was good. The cloud couldn’t see her, either.

“Run,” he told her. “Run, and I’ll find you.” Always.

But he knew she wouldn’t obey. She was Cameo, stubborn to an extreme. When the cloud reached the spot he’d last seen her, it screeched. Lazarus cringed, the high-pitched sound nearly bursting his eardrums.