There would be no chance he could make her laugh.
Desperate to discover if the memory of him had already begun to fray at the edges, he opened his mind to hers...and brushed against her shield.
"You stop that right now before I remove something you don't want to lose." She traced a fingertip around his nipple and as he shuddered--in a very manly way. "What is it you want to know?"
"If the demon has begun to erode your memory of me."
"No." She sighed. "I wish I had the ability to read minds. I could read yours after Misery does his thing." Her chin trembled. "I could remember through your eyes."
The guilt he'd experienced earlier returned, only sharper. He now had the means to free her of the demon. He also had the means to kill her.
Can't risk it. Lazarus did everything in his power to turn his own heart to stone. Why bring up Pandora's box, anyway? He and Cameo would part soon enough, and he would never use the thing against her. He would keep it safe, never allowing anyone to use it against her. Including Cameo herself.
What if she had imprisoned Juliette and Hera, but never told him?
The question was a poison injected straight into his mind. Inescapable and without an antidote.
This--his silence about the box--was the same. If Cameo discovered his deceit, she would be hurt; she would rage and seek vengeance, and rightfully so. If she discovered how close she'd come to achieving a lifelong goal, and discovered Lazarus was the one who'd betrayed her...
No. Absolutely not! His silence wasn't a betrayal but a kindness. He protected Cameo.
Ask questions, receive answers, give her another orgasm, leave. That was the way his second chance at life had to go. He had to build a new army and attack clan Eagleshield from every side. A new army took time. "You said you were afraid sex with me would be bad. Have I alleviated your concerns?"
She traced one of the crystalized veins in his biceps. "First answer a question for me. Are these...wounds the reason you refused to strip?"
Share his secret? His shame? His fear that he would end up like his father, defeated, trapped and hidden from the rest of the world?
He trusted Cameo, but he didn't trust her family. If she were to tell a friend--whether wittingly or unwittingly--and that friend told another, so on and so forth, soon the entire immortal community would know about his weakness.
While the crystals remained dormant without contact with Cameo, given life only in her presence, the damage she caused was permanent.
He would become a target for every vampire, shifter or witch hoping to earn a moniker. Look at me. Look, look. I'm the one who took down the only son of the Monster.
Juliette could use his weakness against him. Hera, too.
"Perhaps I think I'm fat," he finally muttered. "Do these pants make my ass look big?"
The corners of her mouth twitched, giving him hope he would see...nope, her frown returned. "Be serious. You're hiding a bad tattoo, aren't you? Maybe a former girlfriend's name scripted inside a heart? Oh! I know. A man's face on your thigh. Or a rocket that resembles a penis?"
"I'm making a mental note to get each of those tattoos. They sound world-class."
"Yeah, but what name will go inside the heart?"
"My own. I've always loved myself best."
She batted her lashes at him. "We have so much in common. I've always loved myself best, too."
Her attempt at flirting was a-dor-able. "Such a naughty little liar. I'm your favorite. Admit it."
"Darkpit, you barely crack the top ten."
Lazarus was a selfish bastard, greedy in the extreme, and so possessive he wanted to lay siege to every aspect of his woman's life--even if they wouldn't be together. "Give me names. By morning I'll be the only one left." Half tease, half unadorned promise. "You'll have to award me the number one spot."
She snorted. Then she fell silent. Then she stiffened. Her defenses lowered, her mind suddenly open to his, the shield gone. Her relationship with Alex and the heartache the male had caused consumed her thoughts. So had the torment the Hunters had dished.
She'd been confined to a dank, dark cell that reeked of sweat, urine and other things Lazarus couldn't bear to contemplate. She'd been chained to a wall except for the times she'd been chained to a rack, each of her limbs pulled out of its socket. Hot pokers had been pressed into her filth-caked skin, appendages removed while she screamed in pain. While her demon laughed. Laughed.
The bastard had no right!
Lazarus struggled to control a surge of black rage. Calm. Steady.
Galen, leader of the Hunters, had swooped in, demanding to know more about the other demon-possessed warriors. Information Cameo had refused to give him, no matter how many of her bones the male had broken, or how many times he'd sliced into her already injured flesh...or when he'd removed her tongue.
Don't want to talk? Fine. Now you can't talk.
Galen was a demon-possessed warrior himself. The keeper of Jealousy and False Hope. According to word on the street, the Lords had recently welcomed him back into their fold.
Lazarus's rage only worsened. He was not so forgiving and added the name "Galen" to his vengeance list. The male would become the star attraction in the next Garden of Perpetual Horror.
As for Misery, Lazarus yearned to use the box, to laugh as the demon was ripped out of Cameo.
He continued digging through her memories, a strange detail seizing his attention. Blurred at the edges. Why? He followed the thread and landed square in the middle of Misery's memory.
Lazarus began to dig through the demon's thoughts and sucked in a breath. The evil creature couldn't wipe Cameo's mind without her permission. And when that permission was granted? He could do more than wipe it. He could distort it, causing her to view the past through a sorrow-tinted lens.
Lazarus had uncovered a fact Misery tried desperately to hide.
Cameo hadn't loved Alex, not in the deep and romantic way she believed. She'd loved her ability to speak with him without causing an influx of tears. My darling Cami. For centuries she'd craved companionship, understanding and adoration.
The truth was, Alexander had been a tiny bandage placed over a massive wound in her soul. The human hadn't helped her, but he hadn't hurt her, either. At the time, she'd never experienced anything better.
And how sad was that?
Alexander had been a troubled man, searching for someone, anyone, to blame for his own wounds. Cameo had offered comfort and at first, the human had felt grateful, even indebted to her. Lazarus could see the gratitude in his eyes. As the days, weeks and months had passed, Cameo's personal misery had fed the human's. He'd continued to hurt, and eventually he'd come to consider her the perfect outlet for his pain.
The day Hunters approached him with tales of demons released from Pandora's box, Alex had been ripe for plucking.
"Lazarus. Stop!" Wave after wave of sadness poured from her, sweeping them up in an ocean of grief. Then her mind blanked, her shield back in place. She bolted upright, dark hair a cascading waterfall around her strong but delicate shoulders. "My head isn't your personal playground."
When she threw her legs over the side of the bed, he clasped her by the waist to hold her prisoner. "I won't apologize. I know you better now. Like you better. And you have nothing to be ashamed of. Alexander's actions reveal his weakness, not yours."
Tremors rattled her in the cage of his arms, stoking the need that always simmered in his blood. "My past is off-limits unless I choose to share it. Or maybe you'd be fine with me exploring yours without permission?"
His guilt resurfaced, an anchor dropped in the middle of her ocean. Denying her so much already. "You've made a valid point. I'm sorry, sunshine."
Bit by bit, she relaxed against him. "I told you a handful of people committed suicide after spending time with me, right?"
"Right." You also told me you tried to kill yourself, he silently added, nauseated by the thought. What if she'd succeeded?
"By the tim
e I met Alex, I had the worst of the sorrow contained, except when I spoke. I allowed myself to hope, but I should have stayed away from him. I should have stayed away from you, too."
"No!" The denial rushed from him with more force than he'd intended. Calm! He might have been better off without his monomania, but he was certainly happier having her at his side. "You're allowing Misery to speak for you now."
Lazarus had lived for a long time, had fought many different opponents. Demons were evil, detestable and spiteful, no exceptions; they possessed not a single shred of goodness. They enjoyed corruption and destruction, feeding on the carcasses of those they successfully corrupted and destroyed. They couldn't be tamed or redeemed because they didn't want to be tamed or redeemed.
"How can I not?" Cameo said. "We are one."
Lazarus combed his fingers through her hair, soothing her the way his mother once soothed him, the few times they were allowed to be together. "No, you are separate. I'm attracted to you, not Misery. Him, I hate. He takes what belongs to me." Her memories of Lazarus. Her smile still haunted him. Need another. Soon. "To me, you are Snow White, and he is an amalgamation of all seven dwarfs, operating independently of your commands."
Some of the tension drained from her, her beautiful curves melting into him, melding to him. "Funny. I have thought about Snow White, as well. Your apple..."
He stiffened and she shook her head, adding, "But I'm not gentle and soft-spoken like she was created to be. In fact, while I was in your realm I was more comfortable comparing myself to a villain like the evil queen. And in case you haven't realized, Misery isn't Happy, Sneezy, Dopey, Sleepy, Bashful or medically inclined. He's only grumpy. So he can't be an amalgamation of the dwarfs."
"I didn't say which dwarfs, now, did I? He's Angst, Woe, Grief, Depression, Heartache, Despair and Forlorn."
As she coyly batted her lashes at him, she wickedly scraped her nail around his nipple. "Be honest. You're really trying to convince me that you are Prince Charming."
"Your lips may call me by any name, sunshine, and I'll answer with a kiss."
Cameo's mouth twitched and, beneath his fly, his shaft hardened and ached.
She rolled closer and kissed his sternum--lower than he'd hoped for and yet not low enough. "I want so badly to be free of Misery. Now that I've tasted pleasure? Darkpit, I can't live with the demon much longer. I just can't."
Panic seared and branded him, overshadowing his arousal. "You will not harm yourself, Cameo. You will not allow harm to come to you." Must remove the demon. He's the danger.
How?
"The order of a king?" she asked, and he thought he felt a hot tear slide down the ridges of muscle in his stomach. A fucking tear.
The order had been issued from a man. Her man. But he found himself saying, "I will find a way to help you destroy the demon. A way you will remain safe." Shut your mouth. Offer no more. You can't--But something inside him had broken. His resistance? That tear... "Until then, I'll stay with you, guard you. Even from yourself if I must."
Her gaze snapped up, meeting his--and yes, there were tears caught in her lashes. His guts twisted.
"I'm a one-night stand, remember?" She glared at him. "I don't want you hanging around me just because you're afraid I'll put the final punch in my Lifetime Achievement card."
She'd just given him an easy out. A way to say goodbye now...or in an hour...perhaps in the morning. Maybe in a day. No more than two. He should take the out and run, never looking back. The longer he stayed with her, the faster his health would decline, the more mobility he would lose. He had to be at his best if he hoped to defeat Juliette and Hera.
Time wasn't his friend, not anymore. In the spirit realm, he'd had decades, centuries and even millennia to fortify the defenses of his palace, to grow his army and train his men to be the best of the best. Here in the mortal world, where Juliette and Hera lived, he had less than four weeks to get his shit together before becoming a cog in Hades's war. A war that would require his full attention.
"Plus," Cameo added, "I'll be busy. I have to find Pandora's box. It's now in play. Torin says someone found it."
Annnd his guilt used him as a punching bag, beating him black-and-blue. However, his resolve remained firm. He would never give this woman the box. If ever Misery overwhelmed her, she could use it to facilitate a swift--and certain--end.
"Any ideas about the culprit?" he asked.
"Not yet."
Not ever. He would take precautions. "What about finding your pleasure?" He leaned down to draw her nipple through his teeth. "Shouldn't you take this opportunity to use and abuse me? By the way, I'm naming your nipples. This one is Naughty."
Moaning, she slid her hands in his hair. "What's the other one's name?"
He turned his attention to the little beauty in question. "She's Nice. And you will remember our time together...every second. Vow it."
"Just because you decree it, doesn't make it so."
"The demon needs your permission to wipe your mind."
Cameo jolted upright, dislodging Lazarus. "What? No way." She pushed him, widening the distance between them. "I would never agree to part with my memories." She opened her mouth to say more, only to bite her lower lip. "I wouldn't," she reiterated with a lot less force. "And how could you even know something like that?"
"How do you think?" He seized her shoulders, pushed her back and rolled on top of her, pinning her to the mattress. "Misery makes you so sad that you beg for a fresh start." Which meant she had willingly parted with her memory of Lazarus.
The knowledge settled, but poorly.
He nudged her legs apart, his lower half settling more comfortably against hers. Hardness to softness, need to need. Then he pinched her chin, staring at her with enough force that her gaze met his.
"Whenever the demon inundates you with sadness, think of this."
She licked her luscious red lips, leaving a glimmer of undisguised intent behind. "You on top of me?"
"No, sunshine. Think of the things I make you feel." He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers before shifting to nuzzle her cheek with his own and then bite the lobe of her ear.
Going boneless, she said, "Give me another orgasm?"
"Are you asking or telling?"
"Asking." Though her eyelids were heavy and hooded with desire, he could see her eyes glowed with wicked challenge. "The first time could have been a fluke."
"A fluke? A fluke!" He rubbed his erection against her core. "Sunshine, I'll be giving you three orgasms today."
She gasped with mock horror. "No, please. Anything but that. Absolutely anything, oh great and mighty king of Grimm and Fantica."
Funny girl. "Keep talking. Dare you. You're about to earn yourself a fourth."
"I owe you a special kiss, remember?"
"As if I could forget."
She opened her mouth to reply. He swallowed the words, pressing his lips against hers and thrusting his tongue deep.
"Lazario." Moaning, she softened against him and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He nearly howled in triumph. He loved when she clung to him, her treasure of femininity his to plunder. "Going to explore every inch of you," he told her. "Will leave no part of you untouched. Then you can give me that special kiss."
A hard knock sounded at the door. "You'll want to get dressed now." Thane's voice blasted through the room. "Juliette the Eradicator has returned--with her entire clan."
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 awa
reness? 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--"