The Darkest Promise--A Dark, Demonic Paranormal Romance

by Gena Showalter

  “Well, that’s a first, isn’t it?” She turned her attention to his thigh and licked the crystalized vein running from his groin to his knee.

  The contact was a shock to his system. His entire body shuddered with pleasure.

  As she followed another vein, she reached up and wrapped her fingers around the base of his erection. Groaning, he arched into her touch—and at long last her lips closed around him. She sucked him down, down, all the way to the back of her throat. He roared. The fiery heat...the wet, silken depths of her mouth...too much to survive and yet not enough to save him. Drops of sweat trickled down his temples. He fisted the sheets. Inside him, ecstasy and pressure combined, tormenting him.

  My woman. Mine. Never giving her up.

  She sucked on him as if he were a tasty treat. As if she couldn’t get enough of him. As if she would never get enough of him.

  She owned him.

  “Yes. Yes!” He wanted to give her the world. Every kingdom. Every jewel. Wanted to throw her enemies at her feet. Wanted to make love with her every night and awaken with her every morning.

  Her teeth scraped lightly over the head of his shaft. His hips shot up of their own volition, sending him deeper down her throat. As she moaned her acceptance, the sound sending soft vibrations along his erection, satisfaction crept through him, demanding its due.

  Lazarus erupted, climaxing harder than ever before.

  * * *

  Cameo nestled into Lazarus’s side. Anyone who’d ever dated anyone would probably tell her clinging was a deal breaker, but she tightened her hold, refusing to let go.

  I think I’m falling for him.

  Well, why wouldn’t she? Each time he’d fought—either the Amazons, bear shifters or Harpies—he’d checked on Cameo first to make sure she was unharmed. When Misery barraged her, he moved heaven and earth to make her happy. He ensured her orgasm before seeking his own.

  In many ways, she came before his vengeance, and the realization thrilled her. Maybe they had a chance to go the distance, after all.

  What about the visions?

  The demon beat at her skull, and a familiar but still strange tingle resonated below the surface of her skin. A tingle she’d experienced since Lazarus’s arrival. A tingle she didn’t understand—just like she didn’t understand his fear of the glistening rivers that ran through his legs.

  “Tell me about the change that overtook your father,” she said. “What led to his destruction?”

  He tensed, but admitted, “The lines you see in my limbs...they are crystals, and they are slowly killing me.”

  She jackknifed into a sitting position. He tugged her back to his side before she could leap from the bed. “But...you can’t be killed. Not for long. Your resurrection is proof.”

  “Destruction doesn’t have to mean death. How do you think Hera was able to capture my father, the strongest man in existence? Because he, too, had begun to crystalize.”

  Horror turned her blood to icy sludge. “What causes it? Is there a way to stop it?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He combed his fingers through her hair, petting her. “I’ve accepted my end. You will, too.”

  She gave a violent shake of her head. “I will never accept your end.”

  He kissed her temple, sighed. “You must.”

  “The way you accepted mine when I told you about the vision?” she snapped.

  “That’s different. Yours can be prevented by a change of action. The crystals are spreading, limiting my range of motion. One day they’ll cover me.”

  Lose him, after she’d only just found him? No! “There must be an antidote.”

  “Trust me. I exhausted my resources during my search. There’s not. And now, I’m turning my efforts to something else. Before my last breath, I will see to the destruction of our enemies.”

  Not my. Not your. But our. “Lazarus.” I don’t want to go on without him. “We can talk to Torin and Keeley. They can help you—”

  “No. I will accept help from no one but you. To do so would reveal my weakness. I will risk being abducted like my father, doomed to live out an existence in paralyzed awareness, unable to change my fate in any way. And you will not break up with me over this,” he said. A command, not a question.

  “Of course I won’t.” Why would he think such an awful thing? And was he serious about accepting no help? His pride was that great? The reward—more time with her—not enough? “But I will find a way to save you.”

  Already an idea took root. Pandora’s box...the Morning Star supposedly still trapped inside. What if the being could remove the crystals?

  To free the Morning Star, Cameo would have to find and open the box. She would end up killing herself and her friends in the process. Damn it! There had to be another way.

  “Hope you don’t mind,” he said, “but I’ve already planned our week. First, we’ll hunt and kill Juliette. Second, we hunt and imprison Hera. See? A change of action, a new outcome. You will live. Third, we’ll spend every spare minute in bed, making memories to last a thousand lifetimes.”

  She had to convince him to talk to Keeley, the oldest woman in creation, and Torin, the best researcher on the planet. “Actually, I’ll be attacking Juliette. I tried to tell you earlier, but you distracted me. She challenged me to a duel and claims the winner gets to keep you.”

  Tension radiated from him. “There will be no duel. The deathblow is mine to mete.”

  At least he hadn’t assumed Juliette would win. Hardly a silver lining, but hey, silver linings of any sort were new to her, so she wasn’t going to complain. “I thought you said we’ll be working together.”

  “We will. I will give orders, and you will obey them.”

  “Dream on, Neanderthal Man. I’ve been managing my calendar without a Secretary of War for centuries, thanks.”

  “Too bad. I’ve dreamed of killing the Harpy for centuries.”

  Cameo fluffed her pillow. “Before, you were alone. Now you have me. Therefore, your dreams need an overhaul.”

  “I do have you.” He nuzzled her cheek. “And I like you like this. Openly admitting you’re mine.”

  Trying to distract her? “You’re going to give me your blessing. You’re going to watch me fight your enemy on your behalf. You’re going to cheer me on while I kick her ass. Consider it your gift to me...since I’ve given you the gift of my presence.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Someone’s been hanging out with Viola, I see.”

  Another silver lining: he hadn’t contradicted her!

  “I have. I like her,” she admitted. “I might want to be her when I grow up.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You do realize what you’re asking of me goes against every fiber of my being, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “And yet still you ask.”

  “Wrong,” she said. “I don’t remember asking, only telling. I mean, what else am I getting out of our deal? Your to-do list benefits only you. What about my list? Talk to Juliette, find Pandora’s box. Find a way to free the Morning Star. Maybe, just maybe, save you in the process.” Because I don’t want to remember you only to live without you.

  “You can’t trust anything the Harpy says.” As rigid as steel, he released a sound that was part growl, part sigh. She noticed he had no questions about the Morning Star. He must have heard the rumors. “I did mention we would spend our free time in bed, yes? Orgasms should be numbers one through ten on your list.”

  “Orgasms are two through ten.”

  “At least they rate.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I probably should have hooked up with a weaker woman.”

  “You have hooked up with weaker women. Everyone you dated before me.” Cameo rolled on top of him, something odd happening to her face. The corners of her lips were...lifting?
A smile was about to bloom! A miracle only Lazarus could perform.

  Misery seemed to reach through her mind to petrify the muscles around her mouth, and the urge to smile faded.

  “So,” she said, and sighed. “Give me your blessing.”

  He framed her jaw with his big, strong, callused hands. “You will not trust her?”

  “Of course not.” But even still, Cameo would be checking out any leads about the box.

  Lazarus looked up at the ceiling, as if praying for patience. “When you look at me like that, sunshine, I can deny you nothing. You have my blessing.”

  22

  “If you are truly king of your castle, your woman is queen. Treat her like one.”

  —The Art of Keeping Your Female Happy

  Lazarus kept Cameo in bed until the last possible second. When he could postpone the inevitable no longer, he flashed her to a remote part of Alaska. A forest surrounded by ice-mountains and supposedly neutral territory for Harpies. They were the first to arrive.

  The duel would kick off in an hour. Just enough time to study the terrain, check for traps and ensure Cameo had every advantage.

  He erected two tents side by side, since four of Cameo’s friends had insisted on coming to force the Eagleshields to play by the rules. Kaia and Gwen, Keeley and Viola. He felt...indebted.

  A strange sensation. Especially since he still believed killing Juliette was his job. His privilege.

  His hands curled into fists. Has to be this way. He understood the Harpy way of life better than most. The clans were predatory; when they sensed weakness, they pounced. One way or another, Cameo was going to have to prove her strength, or the Eagelshields would forever view her as easy pickings. And then they would pick, pick, pick at her, even if Lazarus beheaded Juliette before the fight.

  “Do you have a pre-battle ritual?” he asked Cameo.

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “Do it.” He kissed her, lingering as long as possible before his body began to insist he do more. “I want to do another sweep for traps.”

  “Sir, yes, sir.”

  He tweaked her nose before taking off and hiking a one-mile radius around the campsite. Mist danced in front of his face every time he exhaled. Perhaps the territory was neutral. There were no land mines, no hidden pits or armies lying in wait, ready to attack.

  Satisfied, he returned to the tents to find a handful of Eagleshields had arrived at last. They were drinking beer and climbing trees, and they waved when they spotted him.

  “Juliette brought a saddle,” someone called. “She’s planning on riding you hard tonight.”

  Red winked through his vision. Keep walking. If he killed a Harpy now, the clan could cry foul later.

  He entered the relative warmth of the tent and took stock.

  The box—once again hanging around his neck.

  The ring he’d gotten from Viola—hanging right beside it.

  The jewels he’d procured for Cameo—still burning a hole in his pocket.

  More and more, the first item filled him with sizzling guilt he couldn’t escape. If ever Cameo discovered he had the box, she would despise him. She would never forgive him.

  I’ll be frozen in my crystal form. What will it matter?

  He could deal with her hate, but not her death.

  Problem: in a frozen state, he would be unable to protect her or the box. If someone stole the relic and used it against Cameo...

  He cursed. Maybe he would give the box to one of the Lords on the condition Cameo never know about it, see it or touch it. Amun, former keeper of Secrets, had perfected the art of staying quiet. During his possession, he couldn’t utter a single word without spilling countless confidences, so he’d said nothing.

  Could Lazarus trust him?

  Maybe. Probably. Unless Amun’s own guilt drove him to confide in his friends. Word would reach Cameo.

  Lazarus was unwilling to take chances with her life. If he was going to spend eternity locked in place like the statues he’d created, he had to know Cameo not only lived but thrived.

  “You’re pacing,” Cameo said, calm and cool but not exactly collected. Sorrow dripped from her tone.

  His gaze sought her. His gaze always sought her. She sat in front of a crackling fire pit, sharpening a sword he’d never seen her use. A piece of black cloth covered a portion of the hilt.

  “Nervous for me?” she asked.

  “You will win.” A command. He sat beside her, removed the ring from around his neck and drew the chain over her head. If she died today—

  She wouldn’t die today. He wasn’t ready to let her go.

  Would he ever be ready?

  Even still, he had to prepare for the worst. The ring might be her only way out of the prison realm. He tucked its weight underneath her shirt.

  If the worst happens, I will find her. I will always find her.

  “If you think I’ll win,” she said, “why are you—”

  “Always have a backup plan.” He dug into his pocket and withdrew the diamond knuckles. “These are for you. Do me a favor and drench them with Juliette’s blood.”

  Her hand trembled as she slid the beautiful weapon in place, the jewels glittering in the light. How lovely they looked pressed against her fair flesh.

  “Thank you for the gift and for entrusting me with your wrath,” she said. “I won’t let you down.”

  “No, you won’t.” Her gratitude affected him in an unexpected way, making him feel as if he’d just taken an arrow through the heart. “You are the strongest warrior I know.”

  She set the sword aside and kicked her leg over his to settle onto his lap. Her luscious fragrance enveloped him as she combed her fingers through his hair.

  “Will you grow to resent me for stealing your vengeance?” she asked.

  He gripped her waist and pulled her directly against his hardening shaft. They both sucked in a breath. “I’ve waited a long time to kill Juliette, have dreamed of it, craved it.”

  Pinching his chin with two fingers, she angled his head, forcing his gaze to meet hers. Arousal had deepened her silver irises to a gunmetal gray. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Because he had no answer for her. He only knew he couldn’t stop her from fighting without hurting her; therefore he wouldn’t stop her.

  He cupped her jaw, simply enjoying the look of her, the softness of her skin, and the astounding connection they shared. Then he slid his hands into her hair and fisted the silken strands. “Why are you so determined to have a conversation when we could be kissing?”

  Her eyes narrowed in slow motion, as if her body had to catch up to her thoughts. “Why do you use kissing as a means of stopping every personal conversation?”

  “With you, I’ll use any excuse to kiss.” He turned swiftly, placing her on her back while he hovered over her. She gasped; he pressed his mouth to hers, stealing a swift taste.

  “We shouldn’t,” she whispered, sounding deliciously scandalized. Need shivered through her. “There’s not enough time. People are outside. They’ll hear us.”

  “There’s always time. And let the people hear.”

  Let Juliette hear. Let her know.

  A petty means of vengeance, but if it served to rattle the Harpy? Sex for the win would make Cameo’s victory that much sweeter.

  He knelt between her legs, yearning to undress her fully, to devote hours to the butterfly etched into her back, but she was right; time wasn’t their friend.

  He unsnapped her pants, lowered the zipper...then twisted a finger into the edge of her panties to draw the material away, revealing the hottest, pinkest playground he’d ever seen.

  She rasped his name. A plea. One he heeded. He bent his head to lick her, and she screamed his name.

  Th
e woman was sweet everywhere. He wasn’t content to lick. He sucked and nibbled, and she writhed against him, even began to chant his name. He reveled as the sorrow easily faded from her voice; he heard her passion.

  He would willingly give up his vengeance for this. How could he resent her?

  “Going to have you every day we’re together. Just like this,” he breathed against her tender flesh.

  “Yes.” Goose bumps covered her thighs. “Yes!”

  His ear twitched as footsteps sounded outside the tent. Roughly fifteen seconds until someone breached the door of the tent. He growled with frustration.

  Not ready to stop. Will never be ready!

  Lazarus...utterly...devoured her. With a hard press of his tongue, he brought her to a swift and brutal climax. As she convulsed with satisfaction, he righted her clothing, adjusted his hard-on and drew her to a sitting position. Dark hair fell down her arms in tangles.

  Perfect timing.

  “Yo!” Kaia stuck her head through the flap. “The starting bell is about to ring.”

  Cameo struggled to calm. Her cheeks possessed a rosy glow, and her lips were slightly swollen from being chewed on.

  The redhead winked at him. “Properly motivating our girl, eh?”

  The color in Cameo’s cheeks only deepened.

  “Something like that,” he muttered.

  Kaia had reason to hate him. As a child, she’d freed him from Juliette’s chains. In return, he’d slaughtered many of her friends in his maddened bid to escape. Not that it had done him any good. Weakened as he’d been, Juliette had found—and punished—him soon enough.

  But. Years later, Juliette commanded him to break up Kaia and Strider by any means necessary. The gorier the better. Compelled by the Paring Rod, Lazarus would have plagued the pair forever. He regained free will only long enough to allow Strider to behead him, ensuring the happy couple received their happily-ever-after.

  His debt to Kaia had been paid in full.

  Lazarus claimed Cameo’s hand and pulled her to her feet. With mesmerizing grace, she sheathed her new sword in the pouch hanging from her back.