Maddox held his squirming, laughing children upside down and threatened to dip their faces into the puddle. “You’ve got to stop pestering Viola. I mean it.”
“I don’t pester,” the boy protested. “I woo!”
Gwen pounced on Sabin, sending him to his knees. “You deserve this. You know you do. Take your punishment like a good boy.”
Torin covered his mouth with a gloved hand, trying to hide a smile while his wife—girlfriend, whatever!—did the backstroke in the pond.
“Come on in. The water’s warm,” Keeley called. As a Curator, the beautiful pink-haired babe had been created long before humans. Once a spirit of light, she had been tasked with the safekeeping of Earth, bound to it and its seasons. She was still bound to earth itself. Dirt healed and revitalized her. “Don’t worry about getting dirty.”
“Yes, but my mind is already dirty,” Torin responded. “I should probably keep my body clean. You know, to balance things out.”
A mud-drenched Cameo raced around the edge of the pond as Lazarus launched handfuls of sludge at her. She hollered like a loon and flipped him off.
“Be still, woman, and experience the full breadth of my wrath,” Lazarus commanded.
“Never!” Cameo shook a fist in the air. “You can take your wrath and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine!”
Absolutely, positively, horrifically children. And yet, within Viola the vise grip of envy only sharpened.
No one cares enough about me to toss mud at me, she lamented. I’m practically invisible. These people would be happier without me...
Oh, no. Since Cameo had fully given in to her dark side, those kinds of thoughts had been coming more frequently, as if Misery had trumped Narcissism and spilled into Viola. Or maybe the two now worked together?
She missed the days when Narcissism loved her self-pride, even as it destroyed her. But she supposed the fault was her own. As she’d ruined one relationship after another, she’d grown to hate herself, and her demon discovered a new love: building himself up while tearing her down. Sadly, he would never grow to hate himself.
She deserved his rancor, really. She’d torn down others for centuries. This was payback.
“Jerk!” someone called, drawing her from her thoughts.
A pair of gorgeous white wings flared from Olivia’s back as she laughingly pushed Aeron into the mud.
Fluffy ran circles around Viola’s feet, chasing his tail. The excited atmosphere had jacked up his energy level.
She scanned the yard. Galen stood off to the side, leaning against a tree, his arms crossed over his chest. He was as much of an outsider as she was, unsure how to insert himself, not sure where—or if—he fit in the mania.
If you want different results, you must do something different.
Very well. She would force herself to play.
With a grimace, Viola inched toward the disgusting pond. Before she could talk herself into dipping in a toe, Cameo, the bitch, sneaked up behind her and shoved her in.
When she sat up, mud sticking in her lashes, her once-depressed best friend fist-pumped the sky. “I’m queen of the jungle pond. Hear me roar!”
A smile teased the corners of Viola’s mouth. Perhaps playing wasn’t so bad. “You may have won the battle,” she said, gathering a mud ball of her own, “but you’ll never win the war.” She launched her abundant supply, but Cameo managed to dodge.
“I’m untouchable! Unbeatable! Too hot to handle!” The overly confident darling performed a ridiculous little dance, earning another rusty laugh from Lazarus.
See! I’m someone. I’m needed here. No one would be happier without me.
Movement in the distance drew her focus. Viola stilled, scrutinizing the thick, vibrant forest with massive hickories, oaks and a willow. The sky created a dark gray backdrop; the storms might have ended, but the sun hadn’t yet gotten the memo.
Fluffy sensed her unease and stilled, the hair on his back lifting. Tasmanian devils were known for their wild rages and propensity for biting.
Where had—
There! Two oaks towered side by side, and despite the lack of wind, a branch on each tree jiggled, as if the two were shaking hands, a deal made with the devil.
Threat? A wild animal? Had the fallen Sent One found her?
Why did her blood warm at the thought?
Fluffy issued a soft but fierce warning growl as he moved in front of Viola, standing guard. She vaulted up, slipped and fought to right herself. Meanwhile, the leaves gave another jiggle, the offender—offenders?—hidden by shadows.
Multiple things seemed to happen in a blink of time.
A thin twig rocketed from the shadows. No, not a twig. An arrow. The deadly missile sliced through the air with a speed no human would have been able to track. Destination: Cameo’s heart.
Acting on instinct, Viola flashed in front of her friend—and caught the arrow in a tight fist.
Narcissism bellowed with indignation. She’d dared to place herself in danger to save someone else? The horror!
That’s right, she snapped, the arrow breaking in her fist. And I’ll do it again.
I’ll punish you...
She shuddered.
“Viola,” Cameo gasped out. “You... I...”
Around her, the warriors stopped laughing. Everyone froze. Then chaos erupted.
“You’re the target,” Lazarus barked at Cameo. “Get down and stay down.” With the stealth of a predator, he bolted from the pond, not heading for cover but for the trees. His arms and legs pumped quickly, fiercely, his speed soon rivaling the arrow. And yet, his motions were...stiff, lacking his usual grace. Was he injured?
Maddox and Ashlyn hurried the children inside the castle while everyone but Cameo and Viola rushed after Lazarus.
“Thank you.” Cameo approached Viola’s side. “If the arrow had hit its mark, I would have been in pain, and the demon would have pounced, desperate to regain his power over me. I owe you big-time.”
“What can I say?” She fluffed her hair, an action as ingrained as breathing. “Saving lives is what supermodel-heroes do. We can’t help ourselves.”
Cameo’s gaze darted to the path Lazarus had taken. “I think I’m into supermodel-heroes. If you aren’t careful, I’m going to fall in love with you and ask you to marry me.”
The praise was better than a warm bath. “You wouldn’t be the first. Or the last.”
Cameo picked up the broken part of the arrow, studied it, and pursed her lips. “I recognize this craftsmanship.”
In the distance, a mud-splattered Lazarus emerged from the line of trees. He carried an Amazon under each arm. The Lords and their ladies trailed behind him, and oh, wow, that was a whole lot of sexy to behold.
“What do Amazons want with us?” Anya demanded.
Lazarus dropped the Amazons at Cameo’s feet. Twine had been used to truss up the pair like pigs on a spit. Probably thanks to Keeley, who could grow a plant from seed to maturity in a heartbeat.
As the Amazons fought for freedom, Lazarus grabbed them by the hair, holding their heads at an uncomfortable angle. A position the two couldn’t fight without breaking their necks.
The other warriors aimed semiautomatics, swords, and the very bow the Amazons had used.
“Dare you to make another move,” Strider said with an evil grin.
“Please make a move,” Kaia begged. “I love to see my guy in action. Plus? Post-battle sex. ’Nuff said.”
Lazarus peered at Viola, his black eyes fierce. “Thank you for saving Cameo from harm.” His tone had a ragged quality, as if the words had been pushed through a window of broken glass. “I owe you a boon. Whatever you wish.”
Some of his fury was directed at himself, she could tell. He’d failed to sense the Amazons before they’d lobbed
off a shot at his woman, after all.
“Yes, you do owe me.” Viola rubbed her hands together. What should she choose? The heart of McCadden’s brother? A sky serpent of her own? Lazarus’s life force?
Oh! There were too many options. “Perhaps you owe me two boons?” she said, nails tapping against her chin. “I mean, I saved more than Cameo. I saved the day.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth. “One boon. No more.”
Her shoulders drooped a little. “Fine. I’ll name my prize at a later date.” She needed time to think this through.
To Cameo, he said, “You remember the woman who killed my guard, I’m sure. Her tribe—those who still live—received word of her placement in my Garden of Perpetual Horror. They seek vengeance.”
“The statues,” Cameo said, her eyes widening. “You turned the Amazons to stone.”
He gave a curt nod.
He could turn people to stone? How cool was that!
These newest Amazons looked to be from one of the Asian clans. Their beauty was jaw-dropping. They’d branded their faces and bodies with symbols she didn’t recognize.
The older one spit at Cameo. “You choose to be with a murderer. You will suffer his same fate.”
Lazarus unleashed an unholy sound before bellowing, “Hypocrite! You tried to murder a woman who never hurt you. Make no mistake. You will be the centerpiece of my newest Garden of Perpetual Horror, a cautionary tale for any others who think to harm what’s mine. Your next actions simply decide how you are posed. I suggest you apologize.”
Silence.
A bird squawked. A dog barked. The circle of warriors surrounding the Amazons began to shift from one foot to the other. Eager?
Amazons were known throughout the immortal world for their unwillingness to give up, no matter the odds stacked against them.
Lazarus tightened his hold on the spitter’s hair, tilting her face higher. She cried out.
“Apologies,” she snarled at Cameo.
Viola’s hand fluttered over her heart. Oh, to have a man as strong and menacing as Lazarus devoted to her!
He stared at Cameo, his dark gaze searching. Did he seek permission for his next deeds? Awareness smoldered between the two, heating the air. Sweat actually beaded on the back of Viola’s neck, her body aching for what it had never known—passion born of authentic desire rather than her demon’s trickery.
Finally Cameo nodded. She had to suspect what Viola knew. If freed, the Amazons would attack again and again, and they wouldn’t care who was harmed so long as their objective was accomplished.
Lazarus smiled his most lethal smile.
A strange and terrible tension descended over the Amazons, and their skin began to gray. One gasped with shock while the other cursed. As their flesh hardened into stone, both screamed with horror.
When the process was completed, Lazarus rubbed his hands together in a job well done.
Murmurs rose from the crowd.
“Whoa,” Kaia said. “Did Lazarus just do what I think he just did?”
“We need more statues! Naked statues!” Anya jumped up and down. “Everyone, lure your enemies here el pronto.”
“If Cameo doesn’t have his babies,” Sabin said, “I will.”
Viola was practically shoved out of the way as the warriors surrounded the statues, admiring the exquisite detail.
Well, this was lovely, going from hero to zero in a snap. She huffed and puffed until her gaze collided with the silvery-white eyes of the monster she’d first seen in the spirit realm.
Brochan had returned. He stood just beyond the circle of her comrades. No one else noticed him.
Forsaken, he mouthed, and her heart rioted in her chest. The deep ebony in his feathers had spread. Barely any white remained. Two horns had sprouted from his head.
Fluffy crawled up her body to perch on her shoulders. He mimicked Lazarus’s growl, daring the monster to take a single step closer.
Though Brochan had come to steal McCadden’s life force from Fluffy, had vowed to do it, he remained at a distance once again. Did he fancy her?
Can’t blame him.
She blew him a kiss, testing his reaction. He blinked in confusion before his expression hardened. He took a step toward her, only to stop. At his sides, his clawed hands curled into fists.
He launched into the air, soon disappearing in the clouds. Too many people around to mess with her?
No matter. Viola forced him out of her mind. For now.
A kaleidoscope of butterflies had appeared above Lazarus. Cameo stiffened before extending her arm and allowing one of the insects to perch at the end of her finger.
Watching her, Viola suddenly wanted to vomit. Neither Cameo nor Lazarus could see into the invisible world around them, where ghosts and bodiless demons walked. As the goddess of the Afterlife, Viola had powers and abilities few—okay, none—could match. Her skills were unsurpassed. Legendary. She was one of a kind, one in a billion, and had—
Lost track of her thoughts. A black mist now surrounded the couple.
Horror radiated from Lucien. As the keeper of Death, he must see the mist, too. Must know exactly what it meant.
One way or another, Lazarus or Cameo would die. And soon.
25
“What you love, your enemy loves to take from you.”
—The Secret to My Success
—The Secret to Survival
Despite the arousal nearly burning him alive, Lazarus hadn’t been able to shake his self-directed fury. Over the past week, he’d been dedicated to Cameo’s recovery, too afraid to leave her side, constantly beleaguered by the fearful thought, Will she harm herself?
He’d been struck by helplessness and savage possession. Can’t lose her.
Kill the demon, revive the girl.
He should have left when his sky serpents told him about Hera, how she’d attacked his former allies and destroyed every home Lazarus had ever known in the mortal world, all in an attempt to find Pandora’s box. But he’d stayed put, determined to protect Cameo. Determined, and yet he’d still failed to prevent an enemy to attack.
He was ashamed. She was his μονομανία. He should have taken better care.
She doesn’t just ruin my body, she ruins my concentration.
Before playing in the mud, he should have opened his mind to ferret out the Amazons. He should have erected defenses. The fact that he hadn’t planned ahead...had only concerned himself with Cameo’s happiness...
He should walk away. No, he should flash. The act would take him farther, faster. He wasn’t good for her. Soon he wouldn’t be able to protect her at all. The crystals had thickened on his arms and legs and had crept deeper into his chest. The moment they breeched his heart, he would have no defense against anyone, even bunny shifters and puny humans.
He still couldn’t bring himself to leave.
Later. He would deal with the worst decisions later. But not today.
He led Cameo through the fortress halls and into their bedroom, where he locked the door, sealing them inside. He tugged her into the bathroom, his intention clear. She offered no protest.
He’d bathed her every day for a week, every shower an exercise of his strictest control. Having her naked curves in his arms had been as much heaven as hell.
He turned the knobs, water pouring from the spout.
“Wait.” She placed a hand on his biceps and squeezed gently. “Now that I’m thinking clearly...or somewhat clearly...Juliette’s words keep replaying in my mind. Tell me, Lazarus. Please. Do you know where Pandora’s box is?”
He ignored a flare of panic, barely resisting the urge to cup the leather-covered pendant hidden under his shirt. It had left his possession only when he’d bathed Cameo; he hadn’t wanted to risk contact with her skin,
had feared the worst. But he now feared Hera finding it more, so he always kept it on a chain around his neck or within his sights.
The former bitch queen had to know what Cameo meant to him. Worse, she knew how the crystals had weakened Typhon, allowing her to strike at Lazarus’s mother. She already suspected the same change was overtaking Lazarus. Now she waited for the perfect time to strike.
Every day he’d expected her to show up at the fortress.
“Lazarus,” Cameo prompted, and worried her lower lip.
“The time for talking has ended.” He stripped, grace beyond him. Weapons thudded to the floor. He ripped the necklace over his head and dropped it beside a dagger. His shaft was long and thick and harder than the titanium they’d found inside the griffin cave.
She stood before him fully clothed, her gaze heating as it roved over him. The distraction had worked. She trembled as she traced her fingertips along the crystal veins draping his shoulders. “There has to be a way to save you,” she croaked.
Sorrow would not intrude. “There is,” he replied. Leaving her. An impossible feat, as he’d already proved.
Hope brightened her features. “How?”
“We’ll talk. Later.” Steam escaped the stall and enveloped them. Outside, thunder boomed. A new storm brewed. Through the window, lightning flashed. “I want you,” he rasped. Every inch of her. Nothing withheld from him.
Her tongue glided over her red, red lips, leaving a trail of glistening moisture. The shield around her mind vanished without any probing, her thoughts inundating him. She wanted him to feel the lust sizzling inside her, wanted to be vulnerable to him and for him. Her nipples ached for his touch, his tongue—only his. Her belly quivered, and between her legs, she throbbed with need.
She imagined him thrusting inside her, and she loved it. He loved it.
Lazarus’s iron control utterly snapped. With an animal-like snarl, he backed her into the wall. Beautiful female. My willing captive. He ripped away her clothing, filling his hands with her beautiful breasts, her sweet little nipples puckering against his palms. My female.
Must slow down.
Must savor.
The Darkest Promise--A Dark, Demonic Paranormal Romance Page 29