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The Darkest Promise--A Dark, Demonic Paranormal Romance by Gena Showalter (15)

15

“Be the monster other monsters fear.”

Eternal Truths for Every Man

Lazarus returned to the portal. He dismissed his soldiers, preferring to be alone with his crazy.

The mortal world was only five steps away. His enemies were there. Cameo was there.

He’d gone three days without her. Far too long. A fact that baffled him. The last time they’d parted, the separation had grated but he’d managed. This time, he wasn’t managing. His mood grew darker by the second.

His conversation with Rathbone continued to play through his mind, torturing him.

“Will you hunt her?”

“You know I cannot leave the spirit realms.”

“You are Lazarus, only son of the Monster, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then I know no such thing.”

The warrior believed Lazarus could pass through the portal without ending up in the void? Why? How? Nothing had changed. He—

Not true. Many things had changed. His alliance with Hades. Had it strengthened him? The pull the portal now had on him. Why? The apple hanging from his neck...a living being might or might not be trapped inside it. Another means of strength? The magic mirror. Since it had revealed possible futures to Cameo, he’d brought it with him. Maybe it had the power to reunite him with his woman, maybe not.

Desperate enough to try anything.

But. More of his veins had filled with crystals. Soon he wouldn’t be able to hide the transformation from others. A certain weakness.

If he ended up in the void, he would lose precious time. Another immortal could take over his realm, steal his army. When he returned, he would have to waste even more time fighting the new king.

If he ended up in the mortal world, he would have to give up his army, anyway.

He bit his tongue until he tasted the metallic tang of blood. He would have to wed a queen sooner rather than later. There would be no faster way to regain the power he would lose.

Was a chance at vengeance worth the risk? No. He could wait, as he’d always planned to wait, for Hera and Juliette to die and end up in the spirit realms.

Powerful immortals died every day. He was proof.

Was Cameo worth the risk, considering he couldn’t keep her?

No need to ponder the answer. Yes. Cameo was worth any risk, and the irony wasn’t lost on him. She hosted Misery, but only she could make him happy.

With one hand, Lazarus picked up the mirror. With the other, he reached into his satchel, and withdrew a freshly squeezed Amazon heart.

* * *

Cameo and Viola strode into the Downfall side by side. The immortal nightclub was located in the third level of the heavens, where evil and good often collided. It was owned by three Sent Ones. The walls and floor looked to be made of thin, white clouds, allowing the occupants to peer at the black sky and bright stars both beyond and underneath the building. An astonishing phenomenon, since those clouds were solid to the touch.

The scent of liquor, sex and clashing perfumes hung heavy in the air. The heat had been jacked up, either to encourage drinking or stripping. Probably both.

Cameo spotted the mirrors on the ceiling and groaned. Every demon came with an array of flaws, and mirrors were one of Narcissism’s. Anytime Viola caught sight of her reflection, she became entranced. Anyone could attack her, and she would never see it coming, wouldn’t even react until far too late.

“Don’t look up,” Cameo told her. “Please.”

“Why?” Of course, Viola attempted to look up.

Cameo pinched her chin and held her gaze. “Trust me.”

“There’s a mirror, isn’t there?” The goddess chewed on her lower lip. “Surely I can afford a single glance...I’m so pretty.”

“Sure. Take a glance. Make yourself vulnerable to everyone in the club. You could become an immortal piñata. Every girl’s dream!”

A shudder rocked Viola on her hooker heels. “Right. No glances. We’re here to find a delicious beefcake and—”

“No! To find the Harpy. Juliette. No beefcake.” Wasn’t like anyone would tempt her. As long as Cameo remembered Lazarus, he would be her standard of measure. No one could hope to compare.

Viola wiggled her brows at a bear shifter. “Maybe a slice of beefcake?” Fluffy sat at her feet, snarling at any male who passed. “I’m hungry for a distraction.”

“Well, consider today low-cal, gluten-free and one hundred percent vegan.”

A man she’d never met looked at her, looked away, then lurched and stared at her. He ran his tongue over his lips as if he could already taste her kiss.

He didn’t want her, not really. Yesterday, after she’d made the decision to spend a night with Lazarus, desire had begun to simmer inside her. Desire she now radiated, right along with sadness. The men she’d come across had responded...enthusiastically.

When this one walked toward her, his graceful glide suggesting he was a vampire, she held up a dagger in warning. He grinned with relish, revealing fangs, and kept coming.

She said, “Want to have a discussion about deep and meaningful things?”

As her voice drifted over the music, he cringed and backed away.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she muttered, hiding her hurt behind a blank mask. I’m man repellent.

Misery laughed with his customary glee. Lazarus is glad to be rid of you.

She swallowed a cry of distress. The demon loved peppering her with statements she couldn’t currently dispute. An insidious weapon in his arsenal of evil.

Would Lazarus be happy to see her? Or had he realized he was better off without her?

“Friendly tip,” Viola said from behind her hand. “When the cute man wants to flirt with us and pay for our drinks and appetizers—Hey, do you want to split cheese fries?”

“No. What’s your friendly tip? I shouldn’t talk?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The goddess waved a dismissive hand. “I was going to suggest you steal his wallet before you talk.”

Not exactly bad advice.

Cameo did her best to block Misery from her thoughts as she scanned the club. A live band played atop a dais in the corner, women’s underwear strewn around their feet. On the dance floor, males and females of every immortal race writhed together in wicked harmony. Multiple bartenders manned an overly crowded bar.

One of the bartenders—a handsome man with pink hair—spotted Viola and dropped a glass. The color drained from his face, leaving him pallid.

“Do you know him?” Cameo asked, pointing. He had a very distinctive look. Tears of blood were inked into the corners of his eyes, and a steel ring protruded from his lower lip.

“I wouldn’t say I know him. I’d say I once destroyed him,” Viola replied, her tone breezy but her eyes tortured. “I’m sure he bears me no hard feelings.”

A list of things Cameo trusted more than Viola’s assurance: gum on the bottom of the tables, an armed enemy at her back and a dinner buffet hosted by Lucifer the Destroyer.

The bartender hurried through a door in back, vanishing from sight. Within seconds, another male appeared. White and gold wings arched over his shoulders. He was a Sent One. Cameo had never met him, but judging by the telltale white hair, scarred alabaster skin and red eyes that proclaimed his identity, this was Xerxes. One of the club’s owners.

His gaze landed on Viola and narrowed.

“Do you know him?” Cameo pointed. If the demon assassin had a beef with Narcissism, he’d have a beef with Misery, too.

“Definitely not.” Viola bent down to pet Fluffy behind his ears. “Now. What was I saying? I’m sure you were hanging on every word.”

Cameo watched with dread as the Xerxes moved his gaze through the club and gave an almost imperceptible nod to—

Another Sent One, who plowed through the crowd, heading straight for Viola. Cameo stared at him, amazed. He looked...he couldn’t be...but his image never changed. Wavy black hair, vibrant blue eyes and chiseled features usually only found in feminine fantasies—or in the reflection of William the Ever Randy.

They couldn’t be twins. This guy appeared younger and less hardened by life. Well, that, and he had magnificent white-gold wings.

No way William was related to a Sent One. No way, no how.

The male stopped in front of Viola and grinned a sinner’s grin. Exactly like William. “Hello, ladies. I’m Axel, the man of your dreams.”

Something William would have said.

Cameo nodded a greeting, wanting to deluge him with questions. No reason to ruin his night.

“Actually,” Viola said, “I’m the woman of my dreams, and I’m in a committed relationship with myself.”

“I’m intrigued.” He offered his arm, and the goddess accepted without hesitation, as if his admiration were her due. “Tell me more.”

“Prepare to be riveted.”

The two wandered off, their conversation soon drowned out by music. Some sidekick.

“Viola,” she called. “Stranger danger is real. You shouldn’t—”

Without looking back, the goddess gave her a thumbs-up. The people around her began to sob.

Cameo’s shoulders rolled in. She wouldn’t go chasing after her friend, treating Viola the way Sabin had treated her. As if she were an invalid incapable of protecting herself. She would trust Viola to see to her own safety.

Cameo turned her attention to hunt for her prey. Thanks to Gwen, she knew Juliette Eagleshield would be—there!

Oh, wow, Cameo had forgotten how beautiful she was. Tall and toned with dark hair and lavender eyes. A man could get drunk looking into those eyes.

The Harpy tossed back a shot, lifted her arms and shouted, “Woo-hoo.” She wore a purple tank top and a miniskirt, the wealth of tattoos on her legs perfectly displayed. In several places, different symbols wove together, creating an optical illusion, making her skin look as delicate as lace.

When Juliette threw back her head and laughed, a blade of envy cut through Cameo.

Why would Lazarus want you, a pity party waiting to happen, and not her, a pleasure party?

Cameo raised her chin. The answer didn’t matter. Juliette had removed Lazarus’s hands. More than once! Today Cameo removed hers.

Determined, she closed the distance.

Xerxes stepped into her path, stopping her. “Fights aren’t allowed inside the club.” His red eyes glowed, as ominous as they were unusual. Up close, his scars stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin, and it became obvious they were claw marks.

No help for it. She had to speak. “How do you know I plan to fight?”

He flinched ever so slightly before motioning to her hand. “You are clutching a dagger.”

Was she? Oops. She couldn’t recall palming one.

Cameo sheathed the weapon. “Happy now?”

“No.” Moving with a speed she couldn’t match, he claimed the dagger and its twin.

Whatever. From head to toe, she was a weapon.

“I’ll keep these until you’re ready to leave,” he said. “No reason to play with temptation.”

“Fine. But just so we’re clear, I’ll shove those daggers in your eyes if you or your friends harm Viola.”

Surprise registered, softening his features. “No harm will come to her.”

She believed him. Sent Ones were incapable of lying.

“Nor will any come to you,” he added. “Unless you cause trouble here.” He strode away, disappearing in the crowd despite his size and unique appearance, a feat that required talent.

Well. Time to cause trouble.

Finally Cameo reached the Harpies. Voice nothing but heartache and despair, she said, “Juliette the Eradicator.”

Juliette cringed, but quickly covered the action by arching a dark brow. “Cameo, Mother of Melancholy. I suggest you move along. Your friend killed my consort.”

She ran her tongue over her teeth. “He wasn’t your consort. He was your slave. And why would I move along? I’m going to wipe the floor with your face.”

The Harpy tensed, even as tears filled her eyes. Actually, every Harpy at the table tensed. Six in total. Meaning, six pairs of watery eyes focused on Cameo and flickered with rage. We’re off to a good start, then.

“Look who decided to steal a pair of balls.” Juliette flicked her tongue over the sharpened edge of an incisor, mimicking Cameo. “Too bad for you, we know the balls belong to Hades. We’re on different sides of the war, and you think he can protect you. News flash. He can’t. Make no mistake, I’ll rip off your limbs and mail them to your family.”

The crowd of immortals caught wind of the argument and formed a circle around Cameo and the Harpies. The music came to a screeching halt and silence reigned. Then mutters began to rise from the throng.

“Are you filming this?”

“Is that Cameo, keeper of Misery? Five bucks says we’re about to find out if blood is her best color.”

“I once watched Juliette pull out a man’s spine—through his mouth. Cameo’s going down.”

Everyone assumed the Harpy would beat her? Wow. That stung.

Your loss will be humiliating, Misery said, and cackled.

Sadness threatened to drown her. No! Not here. Not now. I can do this. I will do this. If she could control her thoughts, she could control her emotions. She could.

Three Sent Ones pushed their way to the front of the circle—Xerxes and the other owners, Bjorn and Thane—hurling people out of their way.

No fighting in the club? “Hypocrite,” she muttered.

Bjorn had dark hair, bronzed skin and the most spectacular pair of rainbow-colored eyes. Thane had innocent blond curls but hardened blue eyes. All three males radiated malice as they crossed their arms over their massive chests, daring Cameo and Juliette to deliver the first strike.

Cameo stood her ground. “You hurt Lazarus,” she spat at Juliette. “Now I hurt you.”

Lavender eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Lazarus is my consort, now and forever, in life and in death. Mine! He is nothing to you.”

Borrowing a page from Viola’s playbook, Cameo fluffed her hair as if she hadn’t a care. “Are you sure? I just spent the weekend with him.”

Tremors swept through the Harpy. “You found him in the spirit realms?”

“Found him...kissed him.”

“Kissed—” With a shriek, Juliette launched at her.

Just before contact, a streak of black slammed into the Harpy, knocking her backward. Fluffy, Cameo realized, shocked to her core. He clawed at Juliette’s face, a bundle of rage, and the Harpy screamed in pain.

The crowd gasped collectively and backed away. Someone must have tripped over someone else, because a fight erupted. The Sent Ones leaped into action, doing their best to stop the worst of the violence.

One of Juliette’s friends pulled a thin, silver rod from the leather cuff around her wrist. A rod she swung at Cameo.

Reflexes well-honed, Cameo caught the end and threw a punch. Her knuckles shattered the Harpy’s cheekbone.

Viola appeared in a puff of crimson smoke. No longer angelic, she looked like the demon living inside her. Two horns extended from her scalp. Red scales had replaced her skin, and her eyes flared like radioactive rubies. Sharp, deadly fangs had grown from her gums, and her nails had lengthened into claws. The scent of sulfur wafted from her.

The goddess slashed the neck of Cameo’s opponent—as if it were a stick of butter. Blood sprayed, the Harpy grasping at newly torn tissue, desperate to breathe but unable.

The Sent Ones focused their efforts on Viola, but failed to stop her. She was simply too strong. As she worked her way through the Harpies, slashing at anyone within reach, the table fell over and glasses fragmented.

Cameo seized the opportunity to attack Juliette, who hadn’t yet fended off the Tasmanian devil. She kicked the bitch in the stomach...then kicked again as the Harpy hunched over, gagging.

Fluffy released her—but he took a piece of her ear with him.

Cameo backhanded her across a bloody cheek, sending the Harpy stumbling into the riotous crowd.

The huffing, puffing Juliette shoved another woman at Cameo—a siren—driving them both backward. As she struggled for purchase, the Harpy grabbed a piece of broken glass and leaped.

Impact drove Cameo farther back. When she slammed into a table, Juliette slashed at her twice. Cameo dodged both times, tripped over a chair, but somehow maintained a tight grip on the Harpy’s wrist, saving herself from dismemberment.

A muscled arm suddenly wrapped around Juliette’s waist, yanking her off Cameo.

“Let me go,” the Harpy screeched, struggling for freedom.

Without a word, Thane carted her to the balcony, flared his wings and launched into the sky.

Cameo jumped up, intending to race to...she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t follow. A muscled arm wrapped around her. A scarred arm. Xerxes. Bjorn, she noted, had finally gotten hold of Viola while a snarling Fluffy attacked his ankles.

“Break our rules,” Xerxes said through gritted teeth, “and face our wrath.”

“Harm her,” a rough, masculine voice announced, “and die.”

Cameo’s heart tripped against her ribs. The rest of her stilled, vibrating with...anticipation?

Oh, yes. The crowd parted, and a glowering Lazarus came into view.

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