The Darkest Promise--A Dark, Demonic Paranormal Romance

by Gena Showalter

  He eased Cameo to her feet and removed the ring from Viola’s finger, saying, “We should return to the spot we entered. The seams holding the realm together are more malleable there.”

  “Carry me?” the goddess asked, batting her lashes.

  “I will not—”

  Cameo gazed up at him with beseeching eyes—sparkling eyes? “She’s letting you borrow her most favorite ring. Shouldn’t you help her?”

  A grinning Viola placed a hand over her heart. “The pearls of wisdom you’re dropping right now are lovely, Cameo, my dear. Though not as lovely as my new titanium. Look!” She petted a sheet of metal.

  He should stand firm and at least pretend to have defenses against his warrior woman. “The ring is mine forever.” A weapon he could use in his favor. “But I will carry the goddess because you oh, so sweetly asked. I will only expect one boon in return.”

  Cameo smiled, a quick up and down quirk of her mouth, but a smile was a smile, and his chest puffed with pride a second time. He was addicted to her amusement and wanted more. Wanted a full-blown smile next time. Or an unstoppable laugh.

  “Let me guess,” she said. “I have to spend the night with you?”

  He traced the line of her jaw, luxuriating in the feel of her silken skin. Then he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Don’t be ridiculous, sunshine. I would never leave room for interpretation. I would demand you spend the night with me...naked and eager for my touch.”

  As he lifted his head to peer into her eyes—no longer sparkling but burning—lovely color darkened her cheeks.

  “If I say no?” she asked, her tone ragged.

  “The goddess walks.”

  Little panting breaths left her. Such a telling reaction pleased him. Her desire for him had grown, his ability to bypass the demon’s sorrow getting easier. She wanted to spend the night with him.

  “I—” she began.

  Dust rained from the rafters. A thousand roars suddenly echoed through the cavern, silencing her.

  “Uh-oh. More automatons,” Viola said.

  A lot more. Their thoughts slammed into Lazarus’s awareness all at once, a terrible blast of hate, malice and rage. They had sensed the forever-death of their kinsman and hungered for revenge.

  “Hurry!” Cameo grabbed his hand and stumbled forward. “We’re in no condition to fight another battle.”

  “I can fight anyone, anytime and emerge victorious.” But even as he snapped the rebuke, determined to mask his own weakened condition, he knew another battle would put his woman at greater risk, and that he wouldn’t allow.

  She comes first.

  Today. Only today.

  She’d chosen to fight for him. Had willingly placed herself in danger on his behalf. Not because he’d commanded it, or because she would be rewarded. Her only objective had been his protection.

  Loyalty wasn’t a gift he’d ever received. Until now. Until her.

  Juliette, who had claimed to love him, had never put his needs before her own. His men fought beside him because they feared his wrath, not for any other reason.

  Astonishment blazed through him. Would she choose him over her brothers-by-circumstance? Would she trust him to keep her safe...trust him to take care of Pandora’s box?

  I want her to choose me. Always, only me.

  The two sides of him—self-protective versus possessive—engaged in a violent tug-of-war. Be with her for a day...be with her forever...a week...forever.

  How could he ever give her up?

  Focus!

  He kissed her knuckles before pulling from her grip. He picked up the griffin heart. More roars sounded. More dust rained. The griffins drew closer.

  Lazarus twined his free hand with Cameo’s and raced from the cavern. Once they cleared the mountain, Viola picked up speed and claimed the lead, encumbered by the metals but no longer affected by their bulky weight. Her will to survive on her own terms must be stronger than any physical limitations she incurred.

  The goddess wasn’t the weak link he’d considered her.

  “Faster,” he commanded, pulling ahead of Viola. In the jungle, the slowest gazelle got eaten.

  Despite Cameo’s injury, she ran with innate elegance.

  As they raced around burnt trees and maneuvered around sharp, gnarled limbs, Viola decided to belt out a song she couldn’t remember. “‘Running something something something. Holding something something. Trying something something something.’”

  He expected her to spread her arms wide and twirl. As deceived by Narcissism as she was, she must believe no one and nothing would ever attempt to harm her—must consider herself too valuable to harm.

  One day, someone would prove her wrong, and she would suffer greatly for it.

  By the time their group reached the mound of boulders where they’d first arrived, sweat drenched him. His lungs burned.

  Behind them, a dark cloud of smoke moved through the skyline, heading straight toward them.

  Lazarus waved his hand while rubbing his thumb over the ring, creating friction, exactly as Viola had done earlier. Having read her mind, he knew to picture the realm he wished to enter.

  Electric pulses cut through the landscape, creating a rift. Dust motes shimmered, dancing in a sudden burst of wind through the portal. He tugged Cameo through, and the goddess followed. The portal closed behind them.

  Relief abounded. They’d done it. They’d escaped.

  They stopped to take a breather.

  “Wow,” Viola said. “That was—”

  Another portal opened, the griffins zooming through.

  “Damn it,” Cameo grated.

  Well, hell. Lazarus tightened his hold on her, sprinted forward and whistled. A second later, the hiss of his sky serpents drifted across the land. A few seconds after that, the horde found him, hovering overhead, awaiting his command.

  “Attack!” he shouted.

  “Can your pets win?” Cameo asked between panting breaths. “They’re outnumbered three to one.”

  “They can. They will. Poor griffins.”

  13

  “There are no second chances to kill at first sight.”

  —Eternal Truths for Every Man

  Cameo sensed a change in Lazarus as soon as his soldiers came into view. Any hint of softer emotion evaporated. He became a man without a hint of vulnerability. A man determined to kill anyone who might detect one.

  What she’d learned from his fight with the griffin: if he decided to strike, his opponent wouldn’t survive.

  Never, in all her days, had she seen more aggression, darker rage or twisted brutality. And she’d lived with eleven demon-possessed immortals!

  Did Lazarus realize he’d smiled while he’d ripped the griffin to ribbons?

  She’d been mesmerized by the beauty of him. His array of tattoos—the ones she could see on his arms, anyway—had glowed with life and vitality, and she’d longed to see the rest of him stripped bare. He’d moved swiftly, so expertly, and with such fluid grace he’d appeared to glide on water.

  If he could mete such violence without a corporal form, what feats could he perform if ever he rejoined the land of the living?

  At his shout, his men loaded up the tents in record time.

  “Mount up.” He stored the griffin heart in a satchel hanging from his winged horse and leaped upon the saddle.

  Cameo offered her hand, and he yanked her in front of him.

  The wounds in her shoulder and midsection throbbed, but she swallowed her wince. No reason to make him feel bad—the way Misery always did to her—when he only wanted to help her.

  “Where are the children?” Viola spun in a circle, her delicate features contorted with worry.

  “Your future husband is here, goddess.” Urban trotte
d his horse to her side.

  Ever rode behind him. “Your crush is officially creepy, brother.”

  “Agreed,” Viola said, even as she exhaled with relief. “I don’t want to brag, but I would only ever agree to marry...myself.”

  “I’ll change your mind,” the boy insisted.

  Lord help the ladies when he became an adult.

  Since their birth, Urban and Ever had been sheltered from the rest of the world. With their abilities, they’d had to be. Plus, whenever they were angered, horns sprouted from their heads and claws extended from their fingers. Bronzed skin morphed into colored scales, and their eyes turned neon red. As young as they were, they had little control of the transformation.

  “You’ve got the ring. You can use it to take everyone to the portal. I’m going to meet you there.” Viola waved them on. “Go. Now!” Then she vanished before anyone could protest.

  “Viola can flash.” Lazarus snapped the stallion’s reins. “Good to know.”

  He collected information about others, just in case ally ever became enemy, she would guess.

  I’m learning him, Cameo realized.

  “I don’t want to use the ring while the griffins are so close,” he said.

  “Agreed.”

  As he led the charge away from camp, and the creatures out for their blood, she decided to monitor the battle and threw a leg over the horse’s head, careful not to impede his wings. Then she kicked her other leg around Lazarus’s waist, straddling him. Palming her semiautomatic, she scanned the sky and gasped.

  Sky serpents and griffins collided with so much force a blast of heated air exploded, shaking even the ground. Fangs slashed. Claws cut. Griffins utilized their metal-tipped wings. Sky serpents used their tails like whips, sometimes lashing, sometimes wrapping around snouts, necks and limbs to wrench and break.

  Before, the threat level had propelled her into survival mode, drowning out the demon. Now Misery demanded what he considered his due.

  Sky serpents hate you, and yet they fight to protect you, simply because Lazarus demanded it. Many will die today. The survivors will blame you. And rightly so! How long will Lazarus’s desire for you last, then, hmm? One day you’ll look back and comprehend this is the moment you traded his affections for safety.

  A pang of sorrow nearly sliced her in two. They protect him, too, she retorted.

  Misery flashed an image inside her head. The last scene Cameo had spied in the mirror: Lazarus walking away, never looking back.

  The sorrow redoubled.

  “Are you literally watching my back?” Dark amusement layered Lazarus’s voice.

  “Sir, yes, sir. Sergeant Cameo has reported for duty.”

  “Duty...or desire?” He was hard, long and thick between her legs, his erection rubbing against her heating core as the horse galloped.

  She moaned, unable to escape the delicious friction, the constant pressure.

  “You are too precious, sunshine.” He bit into her earlobe, igniting a wave of shivers inside her.

  Her? Precious? Not a description anyone had ever used for her. She softened against him. His beard stubble abraded her cheek. Her breasts swelled for him, and her nipples beaded. Shocking heat stole through her, languid and sultry.

  So easily seduced. He wants his night, nothing more...

  Her hands clenched on her daggers. Demons ruined everything!

  “Tell me,” Lazarus commanded softly. “How did Misery cock-block me this time?”

  “Why don’t you read my mind like usual?”

  “Because I suspect you’ve got a bomb in there.”

  Hooves thundered, faster and faster. She caught sight of a man who appeared in the midst of the sky serpents. Sky serpents he ignored. He arrowed through the griffins, using his wings to slice and dice limbs from those in his path.

  He wore a loincloth. His muscles were bigger than Lazarus’s and the top half of him sapphire, the bottom half of him emerald.

  He spread long feathered wings, only to retract them and arrow through the beasts. In each hand he clutched a small hatchet.

  “Who is he?” she asked.

  Lazarus cast a glance over his shoulder and frowned. “Don’t know. But I will allow him to live since he isn’t harming my pets.”

  True. Even though both griffins and sky serpents treated the newcomer as an enemy, biting and slashing at him.

  “I wonder why he’s helping you,” she said.

  “Or you. Perhaps he’s another of Hades’s emissaries.”

  “Another?”

  He disregarded her question, saying, “Perhaps he’s lulling the sky serpents into a false sense of safety. No matter. They’ll defeat him, too.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “My father trained them just as he trained me.”

  So...they had been dropped into dangerous situations and left to fend for themselves? “I know Queen Hera—”

  “Former queen,” he snapped. “Her title has been stripped.”

  “Right. The former queen hid your father, yes?”

  His expression twisted with a flash of rage. “Yes.”

  “Tell me.” She rubbed her cheek against his. “Please.”

  “He...lost mobility. He could walk, barely, but he couldn’t swing a sword. She swooped in and killed my mother while he and I watched. He was unable to do anything about it, and my efforts were ineffective. Then she flashed him away.”

  Telling him You were only a child wouldn’t alleviate his guilt. Guilt always found a way to poke and prod at a heart that sought absolution.

  “You’re no longer a boy,” she said. “You’re a man. The strongest one I know.”

  A heavy pause. Then, with clenched teeth, he said, “I’m just like my father.”

  “How?”

  “I am—I don’t wish to speak of this any longer.” He adjusted her more firmly against him, his thumbs brushing against the undersides of her breasts.

  A distraction? Too bad. She ignored the resurgence of heat in her body. “The queen I remember loathed the male species. Why would she keep your father?”

  Oh, Cameo had heard the rumors. Zeus had locked Hera in his tower, enslaving and impregnating her. Then, when he’d broken her at long last, wedding and releasing her. Over the ensuing years, Hera had proved unbroken, sleeping with any man the king of the Greeks considered an enemy—or friend. She’d made secret deals with other powerful queens to ensure the most powerful males of myth and legend lost everything they held dear.

  Had the formidable Typhon and his wife gotten caught in her crosshairs?

  “A trophy, perhaps,” Lazarus finally replied.

  She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him, offering comfort. “I’m sorry.”

  “Typhon’s relationship with my mother weakened him.”

  Cameo heard bitterness...and accusation? Did he think she weakened him?

  A perceived weakness could be the reason he demanded a single night and eschewed anything more. To win him, she’d have to prove she strengthened him.

  Did she? Could she?

  He added, “Hera had no desire to hurt a child, or so she claimed, but she knew I would grow into a man. She used the Paring Rod to clip off a sliver of my spirit. Meaning, the owner of the artifact had the power to control me. When I was older, she gave the Paring Rod to Juliette. Gave the Harpy a piece of me, as if I were property.”

  Her grip on him tightened. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, tears welling in her eyes.

  “I will punish both females. I must.” Hatred laced his words, giving his tone frightening ferocity. “I, too, will keep a trophy.”

  The demon purred with delight, sensing what Cameo hadn’t. The “need” for revenge was just another form of misery.
As long as Lazarus remained focused on the wrongs done to him, he would never see what was right.

  Poor Cameo. Never the priority. Always the consolation.

  I’m not his consolation!

  But...wasn’t she? Lazarus would never put her needs above his desire for retribution. With him, she would always come in second place. If she ranked at all. And wasn’t that a depressing thought.

  For once, Lazarus didn’t try to tease her out of her bad mood, and it worried her.

  Buck up! His view of me doesn’t matter. Thanks to Viola’s ring, we’ll be parting soon. In fact, we might never see each other again.

  The pep talk failed to cheer her up.

  As their group motored on, the only sound to be heard was the thunder of horse hooves and panting breaths. Eventually they were far enough away from the action—and the griffins who would surely try to follow—to open a new portal. One that led directly to the portal home.

  Lazarus had to open the portal again and again to allow the entire contingent of soldiers to walk through. He and Cameo entered last.

  “We’re here,” he said, his voice flat.

  Already?

  To his men, he called, “Halt.” He dismounted and helped Cameo and Ever do the same before draping the satchel that contained the griffin heart over his shoulder.

  Viola appeared as promised, the stolen metals nowhere to be found, her arms cradling Princess Fluffikans.

  Urban refused Lazarus’s aid and hopped down on his own to bow. “My most beautiful majesty.”

  “Laying it on a little thick, kid.” Viola gently tapped him on the chin.

  “I’m not a kid, I’m a warrior.”

  Fetid air wafted to Cameo, and she wrinkled her nose. A dreary, gray landscape surrounded their group. Bare trees stooped over, as if they had been defeated by life and had just given up. At least fifteen different animals were scattered across a bloodstained ground, each in a different stage of decomposition. Insects crawled through empty eye sockets and hollowed torsos. Small, misshapen creatures chewed on the bones.