Ignoring his own pain, he pulled up and sawed at the new vine.
The cloud thundered and flashed bolts of lightning, all the while shuddering. What was Cameo doing?
Yet another vine snatched the dagger from Lazarus’s grip and aimed a sharpened tip at his heart. He cursed his distraction.
Just before impact, a tar-covered vine batted at the blade, saving Lazarus from injury. He shook his head, confused. The tar-covered vine coiled around the one holding his ankle and squeezed. He was released. He toppled, expecting to crash-land. The tar-covered vine caught him, easing him to the ground.
It’s...aiding me? Why?
Think about it later. Ready for battle, he popped to his feet. Cameo materialized, the Cloak of Invisibility in a pool at her feet. She stood underneath the cloud, her arm extended high, her hand hidden by the gloom. No, not hidden. The cloud thinned, revealing her hand and the pipe she held.
Pride overwhelmed him. My woman. So strong. So capable.
When every speck of darkness vanished, she lowered her arm. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds, and her cheeks glowed with rosy health. Brittle leaves tangled in her hair.
“What happened?” he asked.
“The Cloak of Invisibility protected me from the mist as I snuck under the cloud, inserted the pipe into the center, and commanded the thing—whatever it was—to die. And it did! It had to. The pipe is from the Cage of Compulsion. It was a gift, so we own it, and anything inside it has to do whatever we command.”
Her excitement...
Beneath his fly, his shaft hardened. With her, it proved inevitable. “You are a true warrior.” Even though she was upset with him, she had done everything in her power to ensure his safety.
No one had ever acted so selflessly on his behalf. No one had ever placed him first. Not even his parents. Their hatred for each other had trumped their love for him.
Desperate to touch her, to assure himself of her safety, he closed the distance between them. “You endangered yourself to save me. Can you really fault me for doing the same for you?” He reached for her.
“It’s not the same.” Avoiding contact, she bent to sheathe the pipe in one of the bags.
His heart shriveled, but he pressed on. “Why?”
“The outcome of my action is life.” She folded the cloak and hid it in her pocket. “The outcome of yours is death.”
“You speak as if I’m wasting what time I have left. The truth is, time with you is not wasted but cherished.”
Scowling, she tossed a bag at him. “Shut up. Just...shut up.”
He crouched beside her. He was getting to her, cracking her internal armor. He had to keep pushing, couldn’t allow her to refortify her defenses against him. With her, he had no defenses of his own. Because he loved—
He sucked in a breath. He did. He loved her. Not because of what she was to him. Because of who she was. Period. She was a wealth of contradictions. Kind but fierce. Caring but stubborn. Witty but morose. Protective but easily provoked. Compassionate but violent.
Despite the demon, she was the light in Lazarus’s darkness. She was smart and she was...everything. Before her, he’d known rage. Somehow, she had filled him with joy.
“Cameo,” he croaked.
“No.” She stood. “That isn’t what I want. I want you to live. Free of the crystals. Free from danger.”
He stood as well, hope shining like a brilliant beacon inside him. She loved him, too. To put herself at risk as she had? To make the sacrifices she’d made for him? To give herself to him so unconditionally? She must. “I don’t want to live without you.” He followed the gruff admission by removing the apple from his neck and placing it around hers, the leather and chain mail touching her skin, rather than the bone.
She raised her chin.
“It’s yours,” he said. “I trust you not to harm yourself. I trust you to make the call—remove the covering and touch it, open it, hide it or destroy it. Whatever you want. I give it to you, free of obligation or expectation.” His knuckles brushed her nipple as he ensured the pendant hung between her beautiful breasts, drawing another hiss from her. “I give you my love, my time, my everything.”
*
He’s shattering what remains of my resistance.
Cameo reeled, Lazarus’s declaration ringing in her ears. He loved her? She shook her head and backed away from him. “You’ll give me everything...except a future with you. A family.”
He moved with her, saying, “You are my family.”
She turned away. Looking at him hurt. She wrapped her fingers around the apple. Even with a covering, she felt the heat radiating from the bones. Felt the power.
Misery screeched and scrambled to the back of her mind. Subdued? Precious silence reigned...and yet still she experienced a deluge of sadness.
Lazarus knew her, knew who and what she was, and he wanted to help her, not destroy her. He loved her, despite her many flaws. And she lo—
Nope. Not going there. If she gave in to either him or her emotion, she would curse him to an eternity encased in crystal. So she had to let him go. No ifs, ands or buts. What’s more, she had to force him to leave her. And thanks to the mirror, she knew there was a way to do so...
Dread slithered down her spine.
Lazarus stiffened and said, “We need shelter. Another cloud approaches.” He gathered the packs and pushed through a thick shield of foliage.
She followed, passing a tree of some sort. Maybe. It was nine feet tall and oozed a thick black substance. Tar? The substance covered two vines—two vines that could pass for arms. Butterflies flew above it, creating a colorful canopy.
Doom and gloom...
“This thing...whatever it is, it helped me,” Lazarus said. “I don’t trust it, though. I don’t trust anything in this realm.”
They traveled for over an hour, successfully avoiding other traps, sneaky vines and biting insects. The new death cloud continued to trail them, but never caught up.
Lazarus rejected two caves before settling on a third that was smaller than the others. So small, in fact, they both had to crawl inside. Deep into the bowels of the earth, however, the cavern opened up, allowing them to stand. The enclosure had only one entrance and, as such, only one exit—the one they’d crawled through.
He dropped the packs and dug inside. With a snarl, he extracted the stuffed leopard he’d discarded earlier. “I’ll be right back.”
“Right back” turned out to be fifteen minutes, no toy in sight.
“What’d you do with the leopard?” she asked.
“Tossed it into a puddle.” At her side once again, he offered her a canteen. As she quenched her thirst, he opened the caviar and crackers. They ate in silence.
Was he upset with her? He’d offered her love, and she’d spurned him.
Had to. Won’t be his downfall.
But...she could have one more night with him. Just one more. And what better night? If she waited until they found Hera, the crystals could overtake him, or he could uses his masculine wiles to convince her to ignore his doom in favor of her temporary happiness. How close he’d come already.
The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld #13)
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