The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld #13)

In a rare moment of lucidity, she’d created a box made from the bones of her friend, the goddess of Oppression. Hera used the box to extract a quarter of the fiends inside her, not realizing the box had a limited capacity. Lucky her. The culling process nearly killed her. But as she lay dying, she somehow found a way to save herself...

Again, Siobhan couldn’t see how.

How had the Morning Star gotten trapped inside the box? Siobhan couldn’t see. Also couldn’t see how Hera had saved herself. Too many snags between past and future...

Past: Lucifer betrayed Hera and told Zeus what his wife planned. He offered the demigod the world in exchange for the box.

Zeus stole the box, but rather than give it to the Destroyer, he placed it in the hands of a woman Hera wouldn’t kill, thanks to her warped morals, and a woman Lucifer couldn’t tempt. The loyal Pandora. Then the Lords of the Underworld stole and opened the box.

In the ensuing chaos, Hera retrieved the box and spirited it away. Since it had been emptied, she was able to remove another quarter of the remaining demons possessing her, leaving her with only half of the demonic squatters. That meant five hundred remained inside her, and two hundred and fifty still filled the box. As for the Morning Star? No one knew if the being had escaped or remained inside. Not even Hera.

Present: if Lazarus killed Hera, as one of Siobhan’s visions predicted, Hera’s demons would be let loose upon an ill-prepared world. The fiends would be crazed, free to wreak havoc on innocents.

Lazarus, Cameo and even Hera had made decisions that resulted in a defined outcome. One way or another, Lazarus would face his nemesis, and he would face her today.

A pallid Hades leaped from the bed. “William!” he shouted. His son had taken off hours ago to search for Gillian, a female he hoped to steal from her husband. “Return to me. Now. There’s going to be trouble.”

*

Lazarus’s final words played inside Cameo’s mind again and again. Lazarus, known to all as Cameo’s man. He’d meant what he’d said. The way he’d looked at her with no attempt to disguise the fire and lust and longing in his eyes. She shivered. Mostly, though, he’d looked at her with betrayal.

Her shoulders sagged. She had hurt his man. Badly.

Since they’d left the cavern, he hadn’t looked at her at all, and she didn’t have to guess why. Her eyes regarded him as the stranger he’d become, and every glance reminded him of what he’d lost. What they might have shared. He must feel like he was taking a dagger to the gut.

She did!

How had he convinced her to sleep with him? Had he enjoyed himself? Had Cameo climaxed?

No need to wonder. Yes. Yes, she had. Satisfaction still sang in her veins, a soft vibration against her bones.

Her first orgasm, and she couldn’t remember it. How she loathed Misery! He’d taken something precious from her. He would always take from her.

There was no escaping him. Except through death.

When the forest opened up, revealing a bank of moss, a rushing river and a wide, mile-long marble staircase leading over the water, Lazarus stopped. Every mile they’d gained, his pace had slowed a little more and his steps had become a lot more labored. He had to be injured, but when she’d questioned him about possible wounds, he’d said, “Want to know what’s wrong with me? Remember.”

“I can’t,” she’d snapped. “The demon—”

“He can’t take your memories without your permission.”

The claim still rattled around in her head.

Lazarus, known to all as Cameo’s man.

Without your permission.

Lazarus. Permission.

A lie, surely. Why would she ever grant permission? There was no reason great enough.

And yet, a terrible suspicion struck her. If she couldn’t remember the reasons she’d allowed Misery to wipe a select portion of her past, she would be destined to repeat the same mistakes, right? Wasn’t that the true definition of misery?

“The portal that will take you home is close,” Lazarus said. He clutched a dagger in each hand as he scanned for traps.

Clearly on guard, he began to climb up the steps, approaching the entrance of a temple.

Cameo stuck close to his heels. “How do you know?”

She’d noticed he never flinched when she spoke, and it had thrilled her every time.

“Portals radiate a certain type of power. I’ve been around enough of them to notice.” The formal tone he used disconcerted her.

She missed the warmth he’d expressed in the cave. Maybe he needed a reminder of their past. “You said...you love me?” The words were more of a question than a statement. How could anyone love her? “What made you fall for someone like me?”

Underneath his shirt, the muscles in his back knotted. “You mean someone strong and courageous? Someone who doesn’t cave to fear but overcomes it? Someone who is as much a weapon as the swords she creates? Someone as lonely as I’ve been, who dreams of a happily-ever-after? Someone who smiles for me and me alone? Someone who empowers me with only a glance? Someone who has never placed a condition on her feelings for me, who loves me and wants the best for me?”

She sucked in a breath. He’d thrown the last one at her as if the words were bombs set to detonate.

“Why would I ever fall for someone like that?” he asked softly.

Her heart thudded. The things he said to her... “Someone who inspires sorrow.”

“You didn’t inspire sorrow in me...until today.”

*

Lazarus lapsed into silence. If he continued to speak, he would rage. Control is fraying. As he’d led Cameo through the forest, bypassing different traps and predators, his mood had only darkened. Want what’s mine! Namely her affection. She’d become the best friend he’d ever had. Someone Lazarus trusted with every aspect of his life.

She had become his family.

But he didn’t have much time left. His every step had become an exercise in agony.

Get Cameo home to safety. Say goodbye. Would she kiss him one last time? Or would he spend the rest of eternity remembering her blank stare?

He trudged another step, then another. Despite every hardship they’d already endured in the forest, Lazarus suspected Hera had saved the worst trap for the temple. A means of guarding the portal. Except, he reached the top without a single incident.

The temple itself had been emptied. No furniture, and no portal, either. No pulse of power. No sign of Hera or his father. The only indication anyone had ever been here was a rust-colored stain beneath a huge cobweb on the marble floor.

A flame of rage escaped its tether, and he slammed a fist into a towering alabaster column. How was he supposed to get Cameo home to her family? He’d promised her. He could not fail her!

“Lazarus?”

And he could not bring himself to peer into those liquid silver eyes again. “What?” he bit out, staring at the ground between them.

“There’s a stuffed leopard attached to your go bag. It wasn’t there before. Or if it was, I failed to notice.”

Rathbone! Lazarus pulled the pack forward and sure enough, the toy smiled up at him. No matter how many times Lazarus had tossed the warrior’s newest incarnation somewhere in the jungle—in pits and quicksand—the immortal sovereign had returned.