“I think you should have made the armor out of magnesium infused with dense silicon carbide nanoparticles,” Ever said, breaking into her thoughts. “It’s as light as aluminum, but as strong as titanium.”
Cameo gaped at her.
Viola beamed as Fluffy raced around her horse. “You, little monster, are a girl after my own heart. Magnesium infused with dense silicon carbide nanoparticles has the highest strength-to-weight ratio.”
As the two chatted—intelligently—about metals, Cameo’s gaze sought Lazarus. He sat atop his massive winged steed, his head high, his shoulders squared, his spine rigid. What an awe-inspiring sight. Over a hundred soldiers rode with him, creating a shield for the women and children.
A horde of sky serpents flew overhead. Their numbers were fluid, beasts coming and going as they pleased. One thing remained constant minute by minute—the death glares Cameo received.
On more than one occasion, a drop of accelerant had splashed onto her face. And not by accident. The burns were too well placed.
“Ow!” Another droplet hit her, this one burning the end of her nose. “All right. Enough. Do something about your pets. Before I pick up a branch,” she shouted to the sky.
Heart-wrenching sobs rang through the crowd. She pressed her lips together.
Misery cackled with glee. Wonder how many suicides there’ll be tonight...
Doing her best to ignore him, she smoothed salve on the newest wound.
Lazarus glared at the sky as he bellowed a string of words she didn’t understand. The sky serpents understood, though. Multiple beasts roared in response, wings frenzied as they flapped.
His gaze lowered to Cameo. “They want you dead and themselves splattered in your blood.”
“Trust me,” she whispered, hoping no one else heard her. If she made one more person cry... “The feeling is mutual.”
Pensive, he rubbed two fingers against the stubble on his jaw. “Perhaps the sky serpents would be satisfied if I...spanked you.”
A spanking? Really? “Don’t you—”
He wrapped an arm around her waist, wringing a gasp from her.
“What—”
He lifted her from her horse, his biceps flexing. Such incredible strength...and yet, he began to tremble. Fearing he would drop her, she clung to him. Then he settled her in front of him, his scent and heat enveloping her, and she shivered.
Misery clawed at her skull, sending sharp pains through her temples. So much for enjoying the ride.
Or maybe not. Lazarus rubbed his cheek against hers, distracting and delighting her.
He chuckled softly.
Shit! Shields up!
“Well?” she demanded. “Are you going to spank me or not?”
“Do you want to be spanked?”
“Do you want to lose a hand?”
“As if you’d remove one of the only means capable of giving you pleasure.”
Air punched from her lungs. “Let me guess. The others are your other hand, your mouth and...?”
“And everything else about me. My voice...my scent...hell, even my mind. Face it, sunshine. You crave the total package.”
I do. I really do. “What about your cock...iness?” Oookay. They were headed down a dangerous path. Time to change the subject. “Never mind. What language did you speak to the sky serpents?”
He allowed the change without protest. “Typhonish, the language used by my father.” Warm breath fanned her cheek. “You, sunshine, are exquisite. Resisting the urge to touch you has been hard. Very, very hard.”
A shiver slipped down her spine. “You’re touching me now. You didn’t resist.”
“And I have yet to hear your thanks.”
Part of her wanted to laugh. Most of her wanted to cry. All of her wanted him.
Okay, it was time for another subject change. “How’d you acquire the goddess of Many Futures’ mirror?”
Again, he allowed the change without protest. “Inherited it with the palace. Why?”
Act casual. “Have you seen your futures?”
His posture grew more rigid. “Have you?”
Why not tell him? Give and you shall receive. “Yes. Two possibilities. In the first, we returned to the palace and had sex. Congrats! It was good. Then you escorted me to the portal, briefly considered killing me, but ultimately walked away without saying goodbye.”
He flattened his hands on her thighs, and she sucked in a breath. “So we have sex, and it’s good,” he breathed into her ear. “You’re very welcome.”
Anticipation held her at the edge of a cliff, her insides buzzing and heating. What else would he do? “Why would you want to kill me?” she asked, a tremor in her tone. “You aren’t like others. You don’t react to my voice.”
He stiffened, but said silkily, “I’m sure you gave me reason. But I walked away, yes? Reward me?”
As he spoke, his fingers played with her knee. The anticipation began to agonize her. But one minute bled into two. He did nothing more, the bastard.
“No reward for you,” she grated.
“Very well. No reward for you. So what was the second vision?” he asked. “Tell me about it.”
“I returned home the same day as the others.”
“And?”
“And nothing. The mirror blanked.”
“Little wonder I’m leaning toward vision one. The things I can do to you before you go...” He gently pressed his knees against the flanks of the Pegasus. Those feathered wings lifted, hiding her and Lazarus from the rest of the world as he nuzzled her cheek. “Or maybe we should ignore the mirror and create a new path, spend the entire night together as I’ve wanted from the beginning. Would you like a taste of the pleasure I’ll give you?”
Yes! No. Maybe? She licked her lips, tempted, so wildly tempted. But why enjoy an appetizer when she couldn’t have the full meal? Why forge precious memories the demon would turn around and steal? Or even hold hostage. Life was torturous enough already.
“Fair warning,” she grated. If she couldn’t resist Lazarus’s appeal, she would do everything in her power to ensure he resisted hers. “Misery told me I could keep my memories of you if I killed you. He hates you.”
The demon hissed. How dare you tattle!
“He wants me dead dead?” Lazarus shrugged, unconcerned. “He’ll have to get in line.”
A flare of hope. “You aren’t upset or surprised?”
“Demons hate people and love destruction. I’d be surprised if he liked me.”
“But he could hurt you,” she admitted quietly. “Over the centuries, he’s encouraged people to kill themselves. And he’s...” She licked her lips. “He convinced me to end my life once. Or six times. Maybe twelve.”
He stiffened, as rigid as steel. “You tried to kill yourself a dozen times?”
She gulped, nodded. “The sorrow had become too much to bear.” Each time, her friends had found her broken and bloody, and their disappointment and hurt had only added to her problems, breaking an already splintered heart.
Can’t ever win.
Lazarus tightened his hold on her, as if he feared she would float away like a balloon. “I don’t need the mirror to tell me what’s in your immediate future. You’re going to come.”
He traced a path of fire up, up... She stopped breathing, her belly quivering, an ache blooming between her legs, but he merely played with the waist of her shorts.
“Do you want to come?” he whispered into her ear. “Give me one night.”
Goose bumps broke out over her skin. “You don’t want weeks of sexual bliss as predicted by the mirror?”
He tightened his hold, almost bruising her. “One night is all I can offer. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Had the mirror lied about the differen
t paths her future could take?
“Why only one night?” she asked softly. “Make me understand.”
His sigh ruffled the hairs on her crown. “You want to remember me, sunshine. I want to remember you well.”
Meaning...what? Misery would taint his thoughts if Cameo stuck around?
Ouch! The knowledge cut, and yet it shouldn’t have been a blip on her radar. Truth was truth. But...shouldn’t the man of her dreams consider her worth any hardship?
“I can walk into a room and ruin a party,” she snapped. “You can open your mouth and do the same.”
Not missing a beat—when did he ever?—he traced his white-hot tongue around the shell of her ear. “Speaking of a party... I’m inviting myself to the one in your pants.”
Damn him! The blistering heat of arousal quickly melted her anger. “Stop. There isn’t—”
“But there will be.” His hands inched up, up to cup her breasts as her nipples puckered for him. He strummed the crests, sending a stream of fire straight to her core.
Her hips undulated, and her bottom met the long, hard length of his erection. Oh, mercy, the pleasure was incredible and...it cooled, just as it always cooled, the demon inundating her with sorrow.
Lazarus kneaded her breasts and, mentally, she knew it still felt good. Really, really good. But physically and emotionally, pleasure remained at bay.
“You might as well stop,” she told him. “I could fake my enjoyment, but I wouldn’t be doing either one of us a favor.”
Far from disappointed, he uttered a husky chuckle. “I’m going to need you to promise me something, sunshine.”
That didn’t bode well. “What?”
“You’ll be very, very quiet the next time I move my hands. All right?”
Oh no, no, no. He’d fallen into the alpha-male trap. He believed he could make all women lose their minds with pleasure. Fool! He thought he could bring home the gold despite Cameo’s warning.
Actually, he thought he could bring home the gold because of her warning. She would have to teach him better.
Class is in session, and Miss Lord is a bitch.
“Listen up,” she said. “Hear me when I say—”
“Promise me,” he insisted.
He wasn’t going to drop this, was he? He’d have to learn the blue-balls way. With a sigh, she twisted to look him in the eyes. “Very well. I promise.”
Her wry tone continued speaking long after she’d quieted. You’re going to regret this.
She thought...maybe, there was a chance... The corners of his mouth were lifting in a grin. Before she could be sure, he forced her to turn, traced the lobe of her ear with his teeth and slid his hands down...down...once again stopping on the waist of her sarong.
“You’re not fighting a moan, are you?” he asked.
He sounded amused. “Not even a little,” she said.
“Tsk. Tsk. I told you to be quiet.”
“You asked me a question!”
“What about now?” He moved a fingertip along the sarong’s band, brushing against her navel. “Are you fighting a moan now?”
She tingled and ached and thought, Yes, this is it, this is actually going to happen... But once again the glorious sensations faded.
“No,” she grated.
“Still talking,” he said on a sigh. “My sunshine is so terribly unresponsive. I’m disheartened.” And yet he still sounded amused.
He truly believed he’d stoked a fire inside her.
Teeth gnashing, she said, “A few moans and groans mean nothing. I haven’t climaxed, darkpit.” He compared her to sunshine; she would compare him to an abyss.
“A few moans and groans? You’re adorable.”
“And your little experiment is finished.”
“Temper, temper.” He tsk-tsked. “Someone—and I won’t mention any names—needs to climax.”
For centuries she’d been desperate to experience something millions of women enjoyed on a daily basis. And now he thought teasing her was a good idea? After he’d failed to deliver what he’d promised?
A bomb of anger detonated inside her. “Your prowess is far overrated. And so is your opinion of yourself!”
“There she is, the vixen I’ve been waiting for,” he said, and then he pushed his hand between her legs, under her shorts—and thrust a finger deep inside her.
A surge of bliss exploded inside her, and she gasped.
“Your anger weakens the demon,” he purred, “giving me an opportunity to act.” As he spoke, he moved his thick, beautiful, amazing finger in and out of her. His erection pressed insistently between the cheeks of her ass, adding to the delicious sensations.
“More.” She leaned back, resting her head on his shoulder and offering him easier access. “I want more.” Neeeeded more. “Please.” Here, now, she wasn’t too proud to beg.
He withdrew his hand, despite the nails she dug into his wrists in an effort to hold him in place. “Someone just broke her promise.”
“What are you doing? You were finally getting somewhere. Keep going!”
Eyes like pools of sizzling obsidian, he licked his finger. “Isn’t it obvious, sunshine? I’m punishing you, leaving you in a state of torment. You’re going to remember the feel of my finger inside you and soon you’re going to beg me for its return.”
* * *
Teasing a woman into a snit had never been one of Lazarus’s life goals. Until Cameo.
After giving him her version of the finger, she returned to her horse. He hid a grin. Let her desire for him grow and fester. Soon she would become a boiling pot of lust. The steam would, hopefully, create a barrier against the demon.
Besides, Lazarus wanted revenge. The little vixen had kept him shielded from her mind all day.
The next time he glanced at her, exhaustion had completely overshadowed her anger. She was slumped in her saddle. Her adrenaline had crashed, and crashed hard.
“Let’s stop for the night,” he called.
The entire procession stopped. Lazarus dismounted and patted his mighty steed on the rump for a job well done.
Within minutes, tents were erected. Viola and the children were ushered inside the biggest—the goddess insisted. When Cameo attempted to follow the trio inside, Lazarus clasped her hand and led her toward his tent.
At any other time, she probably would have protested. Tonight she leaned against him, using him as a crutch. Her feet dragged, leaving deep grooves in the dirt.
“Up you go, sunshine.” Lazarus swept her into his arms and carried her inside. The significance of the action wasn’t lost on him and it—
Nothing.
When he set her on her feet, she stumbled to a thick mound of furs and collapsed. Eyes already closing, she muttered, “Whatever you plan to ask me, the answer is no.”
Sleep claimed her in the next instant, her beautiful body going lax.
“Here’s a question,” he muttered. “Should I keep my hands to myself tonight?”
He eased beside her, careful not to touch her. He would personally oversee her protection. All night long.
Her roses, bergamot and neroli scent enveloped him. His mind opened, seeking a connection with her. She’d never been more vulnerable, and he hated himself, but closing his mind proved impossible.
Must learn more about her.
The images he saw disturbed him. Misery plagued her, even in her dreams, filling her head with memories she probably despised. The times she’d been hurt physically. When people had called her terrible names. When friends had died. When those she trusted had betrayed her.
She tossed and turned, unable to settle. Poor Cameo.
Poor Lazarus. Desire for her plagued him. Only a few minutes before, her breasts had overflowed in his hands, her nipples fl
ush against his flesh. His finger had been inside her, her inner walls nearly burning him alive. The little sounds she’d made in the back of her throat were auditory porn.
What he wouldn’t give to strip her, to feed his aching length into her, to have her nails digging into his back and her legs wrapped around his waist...
Already addicted to her.
For whatever reason, fate had decided she was his μονομανία. Or perhaps something as simple as body chemistry had made the call. Either way, the choice...pleased Lazarus. Somehow Cameo had found a direct line to compassion he’d never felt for another. Her sharp tongue and quick wit amused him. The love she had for her friends and family roused envy.
He wanted to be the one, the only one, she turned to for comfort.
What you want isn’t what you need.
He flashed outside the bounds of camp, not wanting anyone to know he’d left the tent, and slammed his fists into the trunk of a tree while cursing the moon, again and again. The vines shrank back in fear. Cool wind blustered around him.
When the bones in his hands shattered, he flashed back to the pallet. Cameo slept on, unaware of his turmoil.
When the time came, he would let her go. As planned. No matter what the cursed mirror had shown her. Because...
The crystals in his arms and legs had thickened yet again. Now hundreds of glittering rivers branched from the hardening veins.
Like a weakling, he’d nearly dropped her when he’d hefted her onto his lap—nearly dropped a woman who weighed less than his sword. It was laughable. But he wasn’t amused.
Cameo was far more dangerous than he’d ever suspected. Because she pleased him. Because she weakened more than his body—she weakened his resolve.
If he wasn’t careful, she would do the very thing his enemies had been unable to accomplish. She would utterly destroy him.
11
“Everyone is allowed to betray you once. Mistakes happen. Just kidding. No one is allowed to betray you ever. Always keep an executioner on staff.”
—Living on Your Own Terms, Damn It
“Wake up, sunshine. Eat.”
Cameo blinked open dry eyes. Her body ached as if she’d just been in a car accident. A common occurrence. The demon had infiltrated her dreams, making her toss and turn and tense up hour after hour.
The Darkest Promise--A Dark, Demonic Paranormal Romance Page 11
