The Darkest Promise--A Dark, Demonic Paranormal Romance

by Gena Showalter

  Viola’s brows knit with...confusion? “Something’s off. Well, no matter. I’ve braved through worse.”

  Ever clapped and rushed forward, her arms outstretched. “Look! A puppy! Can he come with us? Please?”

  “Ever,” Cameo called. “Stop!”

  Lazarus linked their fingers and squeezed. His other hand remained in his pocket, jiggling whatever he’d stored in there. “The girl is fine, I promise you. At least physically. Anyone else would have run in the opposite direction.”

  He led her forward and...the terrain changed in a blink. Cameo gasped. Here, the sun shone from a gloriously blue sky. Trees stood tall, leaves lush and amber. The color of happiness, just like Lazarus’s eyes. She inhaled deeply. The air smelled clean and fresh.

  The carcasses were gone. So were the insects and the creep-fest of animals.

  Ever stomped her foot. “No fair. I want my puppy.”

  “Aunt Katarina will find the perfect dog for you,” Urban told her. “She vowed it, remember?”

  “How is this possible?” Cameo demanded of Lazarus. He was responsible, guaranteed.

  “You know of my ability to read minds. I’m also able to...affect minds. I can create illusions. Usually those illusions work,” he added drily.

  Was there nothing this man couldn’t do? “So you created the rotten terrain?”

  “Yes.”

  Of course. Because who in their right mind would want to continue on?

  “Where is the portal?” she asked. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to go.

  He motioned to two towering trees, the air between their trunks shimmering like a diamond-dusted cloth.

  The moisture in her mouth dried. The vision had come to life.

  “Let’s send your friends home.” Lazarus strode to the portal. He peered into the distance, one minute bleeding into another.

  Thinking of keeping me?

  He must be. His words implied she was to remain in the realm. Her pulse points raced.

  He removed the griffin heart from the satchel and a blade from the sheath at his waist. With a single flick of his wrist, he sliced the organ in two. Black goo dripped from the chambers.

  Glimmering hands shot out from the portal and snatched one half of the heart. The diamond-dusted air undulated with more force, ripples rolling from top to bottom. He stored the other half in the satchel. For Cameo to use tomorrow?

  “All right, you little terrors.” Viola placed Princess Fluffikans on the ground and clapped. “Are you ready to go home?”

  Ever pouted. “I guess.”

  Urban shrugged. “If we must.”

  “You must,” Cameo said. “Your parents have probably burned Budapest to the ground in an effort to find you.”

  Both children flinched.

  Viola linked an arm with Urban and an arm with Ever and glanced at Cameo over her shoulder. “Give Lazarus a kiss goodbye for me...and use tongue. I would.” She winked, then marched forward with her charges in tow.

  They passed through the portal, Fluffy at their heels, and vanished.

  Tremors racked Cameo as Lazarus spun on a booted heel and pinned her in place with his hot gaze. “Stay. One more night.”

  “I...” Want to. So badly.

  She longed for pleasure-filled nights, erotic mornings and blissful days. The consequences be damned. Thanks to the mirror, she knew exactly what would happen if she traveled that path.

  When she and Lazarus parted, and they would part, Misery might let her keep her memory, as he’d done in the first vision...or he might erase it, hoping she’d made the same mistake again. Curious about an immortal named Lazarus who might or might not be the key to her happiness, who might or might not have contemplated killing her before she left him.

  And then there was a completely unknown path. Spending a single night with him. What would happen then?

  She had no idea if humiliation, rejection and danger awaited her...

  Without great risk, there was no reward.

  I’m going to roll the dice. I’m going to take a chance on the second vision.

  There were things she wanted to do in the mortal world. Things for Lazarus...

  “No,” she croaked, then shook her head for emphasis. “I won’t stay the night.”

  Sunlight stroked his features as he cupped her cheeks. He was just so beautiful, with those sardonic dark eyes, eyes so black they suddenly appeared blue. With that thick fan of lashes. Those sharp cheekbones. That blade of a nose. Those soft lips that were made for kissing. Correction: made for kissing her. The dark stubble on his jaw.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed, a sign her scrutiny pleased him—which pleased her. “I can force you to stay,” he said. “Can hold you here until the portal closes.”

  Oh, no, no, no. Her friends often acted like dictators, and it ticked her off. Her fantasy man would treat her as an equal. “And I can use your heart to reopen it.”

  A small smile, quickly gone. “We aren’t done, sunshine. One way or another, I will see you again. I will find you. I will always find you.” The words were thrown at her, but she loved them, anyway. Loved them as much as Misery hated them.

  She reached up to toy with the ends of Lazarus’s dark hair. “I might return...for the box.”

  He gave a jerky shake of his head. “The box isn’t here.”

  “You can’t know—”

  “I do. It’s not hidden here, I swear it.”

  “Rumors—”

  Once again he cut her off. “Rumors claim the box is in a spirit realm. There are thousands.”

  Well, shit. This was it, then. The end. “Will you miss me?”

  “I will,” he grated.

  Satisfaction flared...died. This couldn’t be the end. “I’ll make a pact with you. If you find a way through the portal, I’ll reward you. I’ll kiss you—” She traced a fingertip down the center of his chest. “Anywhere you desire.”

  His pupils expanded, pinpricks of light blazing deep, deep in their depths. “Kiss me.”

  Yes. She rose to her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. He opened without hesitation, rolling his tongue against hers, tasting her as if she were a fine wine but also claiming control—claiming her. He sucked and nibbled, slid hands down her arms, around her hips, and cupped her bottom.

  With a forceful yank, he tumbled her against him. Mmm. He was hard and strong and he held nothing back. Each glide of his tongue offered a hint of the satisfaction to come, and teased her with a glimpse of contentment.

  And...and...happiness glimmered inside her, pure and incandescent, the only flame in a world of darkness. The light she had forever craved, but had always been denied. The sweetness she had never known, not even with Alex.

  Lazarus had no illusions about who or what she was. He knew her, and he liked her, anyway. For that alone, she lo—liked him right back.

  Misery fought her, deluging her with sorrow, drowning her lust.

  Crying out, Cameo broke the kiss and stepped back. Lazarus reached for her, but she stepped back. “I’m sorry.”

  “Cameo.” The growl had returned to his voice. “You’re mine, and I want what’s mine.”

  So possessive. Shivers cascaded through her, sweeping away the sorrow. Welcome back, lust.

  No more kisses to fuel her dreams and drive her wild, maybe even mad. She forced herself to walk backward, widening the distance between them, and closed in on the twin trees.

  “I think your kiss got me pregnant,” he said. “You had better stay until we know for sure.”

  “If you want me, darkpit, you’ll have to come get me.” Anything is possible.

  “Stay.”

  Tempted, oh, she was tempted. If she stayed, either long or short term, they had a present but maybe not a future. I want
a future. This is my only hope.

  Another step backward. “Remember your reward.”

  Expression agonized, he followed after her. “I won’t be forgetting. Will you?”

  Ugh. What if she did forget him? “It’s a risk we have to take.”

  “Why? Why do we have to take it?”

  “Because I want more than one night.”

  “You can’t have it.” His hands fisted at his sides. “Stay here,” he insisted. “Your nipples are hard. I bet your panties are drenched. Let me ease us both before you leave.”

  Lust tangled inside her, and her knees nearly buckled. Required all her might, but she shook her head, grabbed the other half of the heart from his satchel, blew him a kiss and raced through the portal.

  14

  “Never ask. Always demand.”

  —Eternal Truths for Every Man

  Lazarus stood in place for a long while, unseen by his men. Lust sizzling inside him, playing havoc with the turmoil in his mind.

  He hadn’t given Cameo her gifts. The giving and receiving would have been too final. Then she had left him, anyway. But not before she’d teased him.

  You want me, darkpit, you’ll have to come get me.

  An impossibility, damn it. And yet, he still wanted his night with her. He deserved a night with her. Had earned it inside that cavern, when he slayed the griffin. But he wouldn’t get it.

  Now all he had were memories of her.

  Soon she would have nothing of him.

  He punched a tree, leaving a fist-size hole in the trunk.

  He could have killed Cameo at any time; he should have killed her, his one and only weakness. Instead, he’d helped her and those she loved. He’d saved her from griffins. He’d teased her and kissed her, giving her a taste of pleasure. Her first. Her only.

  Possessiveness clasped him by the throat and squeezed.

  He should have stripped her, should have tongued her nipples and laved the sweetness between her legs. She would have moaned and tugged his hair, would have begged him for more.

  They would have consumed each other.

  Cursed demon. Lazarus stroked the hilt of the kris.

  He knew where Pandora’s box was hidden. He hadn’t told her.

  If he retrieved the box, Cameo would be forced to return to the Realm of Grimm and Fantica. He would see her again. Perhaps threaten the demon. Let her keep her memory, or die.

  A threat Lazarus would never be able to see through.

  On the flip side, Cameo could use the box to harm herself.

  I’ll keep her safe—even from herself.

  Every muscle in his body clenched onto bone. The plan was sound. He would draw her back. Cameo would be...upset when she discovered his deceit, of course. No, not deceit. He’d withheld the truth. Hardly the same. He would pleasure her out of her pique.

  One day, she would thank him.

  Caution tempered his eagerness. He wasn’t at his best. Just the thought of seeing Cameo caused his veins to burn white-hot and throb. The crystals had stretched through his arms, legs and...chest? Oh, yes. Heat seared the spot above his heart. Had to be the crystals. Not, say, guilt for failing to tell Cameo about the box.

  He tested his range of motion, noticed a slight resistance and scowled. Not great, but not terrible, either.

  Waving the ring through the air, rubbing his thumb over the metal, he pictured the Realm of Skulls. A space guarded by Hilda the Deadly One.

  Hilda was a Sphinx, a cousin of griffins. She had a human face, the body of a lion and the wings of an eagle.

  Lazarus knew Hilda well, the immortal world as small as it was large. Their fathers—both equally atrocious—had once been friends, so they’d spent many years together. They’d shared a mutual acrimony.

  The ring vibrated, electrical currents arcing through the air like lightning, creating a new rift. Beyond the forest, an office came into view. Lazarus entered, the portal closing behind him.

  Such an ordinary setting. Plain beige walls, with a few impersonal pictures. A file cabinet, a desk, and a glass display case. A small white box rested on one of the shelves, and appeared to be made of phalanges and metacarpals.

  Familiar power pulsed from that shelf, stroking over him. His blood fizzed.

  His gaze shifted to the human skull beside the box. He frowned. The teeth had been sharpened into razor points. Something about it...

  Didn’t matter. “Show yourself, Manhilda.” He opened his mind to hers, but she’d erected a block. “Or do you prefer the name Hildabeast?”

  The space in front of the bookshelf shimmered before she appeared. A monster in more ways than one. She’d spread up and out, and developed muscles on top of her muscles. A thick, black mustache led to a thicker beard and exaggerated jowls. Veins bulged in her neck.

  A spiked metal collar circled her neck.

  Collaring a Sphinx was the same as enslaving a Sphinx. The master could force the beast to do anything. But who had collared her? Very few immortals were strong enough to defeat a Sphinx.

  Lazarus didn’t have to wonder about why she’d been collared. Her unknown master was forcing her to guard Pandora’s box.

  A breastplate covered her ample chest, and leather cuffs wrapped around both of her wrists. Her only adornments. With four legs, she had the option to walk as an animal or a human. Lady’s choice.

  When most people looked at her, they saw a skinny man with red eyes. An illusion.

  Few immortals could defeat her, yes, but even fewer could sustain an ongoing illusion. The small list of potential masters decreased even more so.

  “Hello, Hi-lazarus.” Rising to the top of her back legs, she was at least seven and a half feet tall. “We meet again.”

  The last time he’d been here, Cameo had been at his side. He’d told his μονομανία only that the “beast” had beaten him in a fight—and he’d taken great delight referring to the beast in the masculine form. Lazarus had left out a critical detail. His age. He’d been four.

  “Good news,” he said. “This is the last time we’ll ever meet. Today you die. Unless you want to hand over Pandora’s box?”

  “To you, the one who prevented others from finding and freeing me? Not even if I were ordered.”

  Lazarus had been here twice before. The first time, with Cameo. The second, he’d returned to cast an illusion of his own, hiding the box from all who searched. Even then he’d known the box could be used against Cameo. Not that her friends would ever purposely hurt her. But why take chances?

  The very reason he had to keep his sunshine away from the item she desired most, even denying her the opportunity to fight for it.

  Necessary. The demon depressed her. One day, she might try to end her life. Again! With the box, she could kill herself in seconds, before anyone had the opportunity to stop her.

  If she dies, she’ll join me in the afterlife...forever...

  Forget the fact that she would ruin him. He wanted her to live the life of her dreams.

  “Are you upset because you had no one to kill and eat?” He rubbed his fists under his eyes, mimicking tears. “Poor Hildabeast.”

  She ran her tongue over blood-stained fangs. “I’m going to enjoy eating you. I remember how sweet your organs taste.”

  Only once had she managed to chain him and cut into his torso. Unlike other immortal children, who would have died after losing every vital organ, Lazarus had regenerated and rebounded.

  Can never die. His father’s words echoed in his head.

  Lazarus popped the bones in his neck and briefly considered wearing the diamond knuckles he’d stolen for Cameo, only to decide he didn’t want them splattered with blood and...other things.

  “Who managed to collar you?” he asked conversationally.

&nb
sp; Hilda sharpened one set of her front claws against the other. “Some questions cannot be answered.”

  Her master had commanded her silence on the subject, then. He—or she—would come for the box. Bring it. Lazarus would kill the master just as easily as he killed the slave.

  He pulled his short swords from the sheathes anchored to his back, metal whistling, and took a step forward—

  An invisible wall stopped him. Scowling, he stabbed repeatedly, attempting to create a fissure. The weapons bent while the wall remained unharmed.

  Hildabeast smiled a smug smile. “You wish to pass? Answer me this. The man who makes it has no need of it. The man who purchases it will not use it. The man who uses it will not know he’s doing so. What is it?”

  Her stupid riddles. In his haste to ensure Cameo’s return, Lazarus had forgotten the way of the Sphinx. No man could approach without first answering a riddle. One of the reasons the creatures made such excellent guard dogs.

  Last time, whenever Lazarus or Cameo had neared the wall, they’d experienced vertigo before being flashed to the far corner of the room.

  This time, Lazarus wasn’t newly dead. He was stronger, despite the crystals, and he was far more determined.

  He rolled Hilda’s riddle through his mind, and decided she’d gone easy on him. She wanted to fight him.

  The man who makes “it” had no need of it...because he lived. The man who purchased “it” wouldn’t use it...because he lived. The man who used “it” wouldn’t know he was doing so...because he was dead.

  “The answer is coffin,” Lazarus said. “What you will need today.”

  A loud whoosh sounded, hot air gusting over him. The wall had just come down.

  Glee darkened her eyes. “Do you truly believe you can best me?”

  “I do.” Smiling his own smug smile, he tossed his damaged swords to the floor and stalked toward his opponent. They’d do this hand to hand. Or rather, hand to paw.

  Without warning, she swiped her claws at him. He dodged, only to put himself in the path of another hand. Pain tore through his midsection, momentarily rendering him immobile. Like any predator, she used his paralysis to her advantage, latching onto the back of his thighs and yanking.