19
“Never allow your bark to be worse than your bite. The two should be equally terrible.”
—The Art of Keeping Your Female Happy
—Becoming the Monster You Were Born to Be
Cameo jumped from the bed, her mind racing with a million different thoughts but also tingling, as if Misery were still kicking at her skull. No, not kicking—she felt no pain—but dancing over her cerebral cortex. An odd sensation, and one she’d never experienced until earlier today when Lazarus arrived at the club.
Heightened sensual awareness? Simple, wanton desire?
Fury? Juliette’s arrival had interrupted Cameo’s second orgasm.
Juliette would pay.
Trembling, Cameo pulled on her shirt. As Lazarus donned his, his motions were sharpened by a dark rage she’d only ever glimpsed inside the griffin’s cave. He should be overjoyed. One of his dreams was about to come true.
She sheathed one of his daggers and checked the magazine of a small semiautomatic he’d stored in his boot. Excellent. Fully loaded.
“Hope you don’t mind, but I’m borrowing these,” she told him.
He glowered at her. “Keep them. They are yours. But stay here.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Please.”
As the only female in a group of strong, burly males, she’d heard a variation of that very command—stay here—so many times she’d lost count.
“Screw you, darkpit.” She had to work harder than her male friends simply to be regarded as an equal. While doing so, she had to endure ridicule. What men considered strength in other men, they considered malicious in her. She had to fight to be heard after listening to repeated mansplaining. “Your former consort needs to learn I’m a formidable enemy. Apparently, so do you. Also, she needs to know your ass belongs to me.”
“Cameo—”
“No. No excuses about the big strong man protecting the weak little female. If you want me in your bed, you’ll have to accept me at your side. No other outcome is tolerable.” Okay, she’d just taken a huge gamble. Before, Lazarus had only requested a night with her. He’d just agreed to more, but not because he liked her or couldn’t go on without her. Because he feared for her safety.
Oh, she knew he still desired her. He had a fully loaded AK-47 under his straining fly every time he glanced in her direction. Was desire enough to herald her happiness—and sustain it?
He’d been clear from the beginning that he wanted to wed a queen, not for love. That he wanted an alliance, an army. He didn’t consider her marriage material.
The reminder stung, and Misery gloated.
His eyes narrowed as he palmed a dagger. “Your heart is too sweet.”
“Are you talking about my heart, or one of the hearts I keep in a jar at home?”
He blew her a kiss. “I know what you’re doing. Extolling violent escapades so I’ll see you as a warrior rather than a passionate woman, but it’s not going to—”
She grabbed his balls and twisted. “I am a warrior.”
“Work,” he finished on a high note. When she released him, he rubbed his precious. “Very well. You can come with me.”
“Gee whiz. You’re letting me come with you? You’re swell. Just the best!”
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “If you get hurt, even a single scratch—”
“You’ll rage, and people will die, blah, blah, blah. We can’t have your one-night stand unable to perform her duties, now, can we?”
“Oh, you’ll perform your duties, all right, or people won’t just die, sunshine. They’ll beg to die.”
How could he be so sexy and so infuriating at the same time? “Let’s stop chatting and go get exhibit one of two in ‘Lazarus’s Quest for Vengeance.’”
His dark gaze held her captive for a blissful eternity, those ebony irises deepening and swirling, almost hypnotizing her. Then he stalked out the door. She raced after him. The hallway had been emptied of guards. Inside the club itself, Sent Ones pushed the remaining guests outside. Guests who were more than happy to leave. No one wanted to be in the path of an enraged Harpy, much less an entire clan.
There would be carnage.
Cameo moved to one of the windows in back. A beautiful garden bloomed with night roses, the macabre petals bloodred. At the edge stood the Harpies. They were well-armed, and they surrounded the building, perfectly backlit by glittering stars and the glow of a vibrant moon.
Juliette claimed the helm, the wind lifting her dark tresses and the hem of her short leather skirt.
Lazarus is going to be enslaved. Misery pretended to choke on a sob. He’s going to blame you, hate you.
“There are more than a hundred Harpies out there and only two of us,” Cameo said, doing her best to ignore the demon.
“I know. Poor Harpies.” Lazarus stopped directly behind her and rested a hand on her hip.
The strange tingling started up again, but as the warmth of his breath caressed the top of her head, she shivered with delight.
Misery hissed and even lapsed into silence.
“If I unleash the demon,” she said, refusing to claim him with the word my, “he can incapacitate the Harpy forces with sorrow. We can pick them off one by one without risking injury.”
“And incapacitate you in the process, I’m sure.”
“Yes,” she admitted. Terribly so. Ceding the reins of control allowed Misery to fill her with so much despair she longed for death. Only with time and a miracle would she break free from his clutches.
“No.” Lazarus shook his head, determined. “We fight.”
Wasn’t willing to achieve his vengeance the easy way? A shock!
More sexy than infuriating...
“The club has been cleared.” Thane approached, the tips of his wings brushing against the floor. “The Harpies gave me an ultimatum. Kill Cameo, or start a war. I do not appreciate ultimatums, so I’ve decided to start a war. We’ll stand with you in this battle.”
Beside him stood Bjorn and a seven-foot-tall Berserker—the master of the club’s guard. Bjorn nodded, and the Berserker stepped forward, saying, “As will I.” Where was Xerxes?
She expected Lazarus to protest. His vengeance, his battle. He added to her shock by nodding his thanks.
Wait. Had he agreed to their help as a means of protecting her?
More infuriating than sexy.
She wasn’t weak. And she would prove it!
There was no sign of Viola or the bartender who’d absconded with her. Too bad. Would have been nice to fight beside the goddess and her furry sidekick. My new best friends.
Who are you kidding? You have no friends. What could you possibly bring to the table?
Misery wanted to depress her before the big battle so she would be felled quickly and easily. A tactic he’d used many times before.
What do I bring to the table? she asked the demon. Easy. The table. I built it.
“By the way, you chose the right side,” Lazarus told the others. “I’ve summoned my sky serpents.”
He had? When?
He said, “They should arrive—”
High-pitched screeches echoed through the club.
Over a dozen sky serpents hovered in the sky, their membranous wings gliding up and down. Their huge, jewel-toned bodies radiated tension while their tails were coiled, ready to lash. Accelerant dripped from their fangs. With every exhalation, brilliant blue flames crackled inside their nostrils.
Lazarus offered a cold grin. “Now.”
“You will, of course, be liable for any damage the building sustains,” Thane said.
“Of course.” Lazarus pointed to Juliette. “Feel free to send the bill to her next of kin.”
Half of the Harpy army turned to face the sky serpents while the other half remained focused on the club. So. They were dividing their forces. A dangerous choice, placing the Harpies at a severe disadvantage right from the start. But then, it wasn’t as if Lazarus had left them much choice.
Cameo liked that about him.
Xerxes appeared at Thane’s side, stepping from an invisible doorway. He stretched out his arm in Cameo’s direction, a dagger resting in his palm.
Lazarus caught him by the wrist, preventing him from ever making contact with her. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
“My blade!” She sheathed the gun she’d “borrowed” from Lazarus and claimed the dagger.
Xerxes arched a white brow, and Lazarus released him with a huff.
Movement outside the window drew her attention. She groaned. Griffins had joined the party. Living griffins. They’d lined up across from the sky serpents, ready to fight for Team Harpy.
“How did she summon griffins?” Cameo demanded.
“Word of my exploits has traveled fast.” Lazarus hiked his shoulders in a shrug. Reading the Harpy’s mind? “The griffins found her.”
Juliette smiled. “Lazarus!” Her voice echoed through the club. “I can’t tell you the depths of my happiness, knowing my consort lives. Join me, my love. There’s no need for a clash. We were meant to be together.”
If the Harpy hadn’t already signed her own death warrant, well, she would have done so then. Lazarus shouted the most obscene curse Cameo had ever heard.
“Juliette the Eradicator is mine to kill,” he snapped at the Sent Ones. His gaze locked on Cameo. “And you...”
“Hey, don’t worry about me.” In battle, distraction killed as brutally as any sword. “I’ll leave her to you. And before you command otherwise, I will put myself in danger, unnecessary or otherwise. But I’ll also win.”
A muscle jumped beneath his eye. “Have you ever fought a Harpy? Before today?”
“Hasn’t everyone?”
“And you?” he asked the others.
The rainbow-eyed Bjorn released a tell me you’re joking snort. “We’ve lived for thousands of years, and Harpies have no filter or boundaries. What do you think?”
“Right.” Lazarus nodded. “Then you know you have to break their wings to slow or weaken them.”
Harpy wings were small and usually fluttered too swiftly to grab. Cameo had never managed that particular feat, but there was a first time for everything.
“Stop worrying,” she said. “We’ve got this in the bag.”
Lazarus pressed a swift kiss into her lips. “Be careful. Or else.” Then he focused on the others, his obsidian eyes crackling like the flames emitted by his sky serpents. The rest of him looked as cold as ice. “Be prepared. The second we step outside, the Harpies will fire off their arrows. Concentrate on them. My sky serpents will handle the griffins.”
In union, the Sent Ones stretched out their hands. Swords of fire appeared.
“Will your sky serpents handle me?” Cameo muttered.
“They know of your feud with the ones in my realm, if that’s what you are asking,” Lazarus replied. “Shall I protect you from their wrath, or would you like to assert your independence once again?”
Jerk. “I’d like to assert my independence right up your—”
“Kill!” With that, Lazarus smashed through the door, sharp splinters flinging in every direction. The move was as unexpected to the Harpies as it was to Cameo.
She followed him, remaining close to his heels, and the Sent Ones poured out behind her. As Lazarus predicted, arrows were launched.
You can’t win, Misery whispered, unwilling to give up. You will lose, one way or another. Maybe you’ll win the fight, but you’ll definitely lose Lazarus. If not today, tomorrow. Like everyone else, he’ll grow tired of unsuccessful attempts to cheer you.
Cameo tuned him out. Distraction killed, and sorrow debilitated. She focused on battle. The very thing she’d been created to do. The world around her slowed to a crawl, but her pace remained swift as she waved her arms and angled her wrists. The arrows pinged off her daggers, useless.
Sky serpents unleashed a storm of fire, cranking up the heat. Smoke formed a cloud of gloom as beads of sweat ran down Cameo’s temples and spine.
A fierce war cry sounded. Harpies darted forward, three eager beavers meeting Cameo halfway. She braced for impact and—
Lazarus slammed into the females, a bowling ball to their pins.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Other Harpies sprang over their fallen comrades, their gazes locked on Cameo. Thankfully Lazarus was preoccupied with... She frowned. Why was he moving so slowly, allowing the women to claw him to shreds? A battle strategy? Hoping to give the Harpies a false sense of victory?
Yes or no, she couldn’t help him right now. The new group reached her. She blocked a bite and then a slash. Surprise darkened their eyes.
What, they expected to take her down easily?
She wouldn’t go for their wings, she decided. No doubt the move was expected. Instead, she spun, dropping into a crouch and kicking out her leg. One Harpy tripped, then another. As they toppled, she stabbed her daggers into their midsections.
At first, the women didn’t realize they’d been injured. Adrenaline pumped through their systems, probably numbing the pain. But Cameo remained crouched. When the females attempted to stand, probably thinking they’d punt at her while she was down, their intestines spilled out at her feet. Howls of agony rent the air.
My cue. Determined to finish off her opponents, Cameo jumped up. With quick jabs, she stabbed one in the heart and the other in the neck. Unfortunately, they had a friend. The girl raked her claws across Cameo’s cheek.
Her flesh tore, burning as if it had been doused in acid. Her knees gave out and smacked into the ground. Maddened by rage, the Harpy followed her down.
Ignoring the influx of pain, Cameo sank her dagger into her attacker’s trachea. The girl jerked before slumping over.
Group one—done.
Different sounds registered, making her ears twitch. Crackling flames, grunts and groans, roars, the snap of breaking bones, other howls. Where was Lazarus? She lumbered to her feet—
A hard weight slammed into her, pitching her across the garden.
She lost her breath, pinpricks of light winking through her vision, momentarily blinding her. A hard fist punched her injured cheek once, twice. A cold fist. Brass knuckles? Her jaw snapped out of place, and her brain banged against her skull. Blood leaked from the sides of her mouth as waves of blistering pain washed over her.
Don’t stop. Keep fighting. She stayed down and kicked up her legs. At the same time, the Harpy leaned down to deliver the next punch. Perfect. Cameo crisscrossed her thighs, locking onto the girl’s neck. She rolled to her stomach, forcing the Harpy facedown.
Crack! The Harpy’s forehead met a rock, and the rock won.
Though her opponent scratched at her legs in an attempt to rise, the blow had weakened her, allowing Cameo to stand and slam a boot into her once-pretty face.
Lights out, Harpy.
Dizzy, panting, she searched the battlefield. The sky serpents had thinned out the enemy herd while the Sent Ones had felled their fair share of Harpies—without actually killing the women. Bjorn and Xerxes were in the process of confining the injured females inside a cage camouflaged by stone.
Only Juliette remained on her feet. Well, not her feet. Not exactly. Lazarus had her by the throat, her legs flailing through the air. She clawed at him, desperate to win her freedom.
Crimson splattered him from head to toe, especially thick down the inseam of his pants. His shirt and a good portion of his skin had been shredded. Obvious strain tightened the skin around his eyes and mouth, Juliette’s weight seemingly more than he could tolerate. His lips were pulled back from his teeth in a fierce scowl.
Was the Harpy’s bronzed flesh...turning gray?
Juliette’s wild gaze darted over her surroundings, probably seeking anything or anyone she could use against her tormentor. When she spotted Cameo, she gasped, “Box. Know...who...box.”
Only one box mattered to Cameo. Pandora’s. Did Juliette know who possessed it?
Heart slamming against her ribs, Cameo called, “Lazarus.” With her jaw still out of place, she slurred his name.
He gave no notice of her. Was his thirst for vengeance so great he’d lost track of everything else? Or did he simply not care what she had to say?
After everything they’d done in bed, the second possibility hurt worse than the beating she’d taken.
“Lazarus,” she repeated, springing forward. She tripped over a body, but remained upright and kept running. “Let her go. You have to let her go.” If Juliette knew who had the box, Cameo needed her alive. At least for a little while.
Yes, the Harpy had probably lied to save herself. And if so, her death would be a thousand times worse. But better safe than sorry when the lives of Cameo’s loved ones were at stake.
She crashed into Lazarus, expecting him to stumble; he toppled to the ground, instead, losing his grip on Juliette. The Harpy rolled and sprang to her feet.
Nooo! Cameo made a play for her, but even winded, Juliette managed to fake a left and then zoom right. She sprinted away, and Cameo gave chase. They neared the edge of the cloud. The Harpy would have to stop and—
Juliette dived, falling from view. Cameo skidded to a stop before she, too, plummeted to her death.
One of the griffins swooped underneath Juliette, catching the Harpy on his back, and relief showered Cameo. There would be another fight—another chance to get answers.
The remaining sky serpents hissed at her, reminding her an enemy still lurked nearby. Lazarus’s pets would love to punish her...and so would Lazarus.
He roared. “Why, Cameo? Tell me why!”
She closed her eyes and rested her jaw against her shoulder. With a shove, she forced her jaw into place—and nearly doubled her over with pain.
When she’d calmed, she said, “You heard her.” She pointed in the direction Juliette had flown. “Your consort might know where to find Pandora’s box.”
“She was never mine.” He reached Cameo’s side, his gaze spitting fire at her. “And she doesn’t know.”
“How can you be sure?”
His eyes filled with guilt and anger. Why guilt? “I just am.”
“Well, I want to talk to her before you kill her. Okay?”
A sky serpent landed behind him and squawked.
“No,” Lazarus shouted. His gaze remained on Cameo as he grated at the creature, “She isn’t to be harmed. Ever. Not by you.”
Not by you. And wasn’t that reassuring?
“I’m returning to Budapest,” she said. “You can come with me, or you can stay here. Right now I don’t exactly care. Actually, I do care. Stay here!” A mimic of his earlier command to her. How would a guy feel about reversed chauvinism? “When my wounds heal, I’m going to find Juliette and have a chat with her. And she had better be alive. The safety of my family is more important than your vengeance. Do you hear me?”
“I think everyone heard you,” he snapped.
Cameo stormed around him, first glaring at the sky serpent, then the Sent Ones. “Someone better volunteer to give me a ride home, or I’m going to start singing a lullaby.”
All three Sent Ones and their Berserker friend begged for the privilege. And, okay, wow, the sky serpent prostrated himself to allow easy access to his back.
Maybe the knock to her skull had destroyed her sense of self-preservation since she decided to go with the sky serpent. Sure, he’d like to rip her to shreds and suck the marrow from her bones, but so what? If he ate her, he ate her. If he dropped her midair, he dropped her. She’d either die or survive. Right now she wasn’t sure which one she most wanted to happen.
What the creature wouldn’t do? Lecture her.
Sky serpent for the win. All aboard the SS Express.
She approached him only to pause and glare at Lazarus. “Will humans see us and freak out?”
“No. He’ll camouflage himself.”
Camouflage? A puff of white smoke wafted from the sky serpent’s nostrils, covering and hiding him.
“Well. That explains how you’ve gone so long without detection,” she said, marching forward.
“Cameo.” Lazarus shouted her name, somehow turning three syllables into a harsh command.
“Nope. Our conversation is over.” She settled onto her transport.
“I will come for you,” he said. “I will always come for you.”
He’d said those words before. The first time, they’d been a promise, both sweet and reassuring. Today, they sounded like a warning.