would wipe her memory once again, and she would lose another piece of herself.
No, thanks.
The heat and aches faded at last, leaving her cold and hollow.
Lazarus’s desire must have died, as well. He’d rolled her over, his muscled body pinning her softer one to the moss-covered ground, his erection no longer prodding the notch between her legs.
Do not cling to him. Fight the urge.
“I need you to quiet down, sunshine.” Whispered words, but fierce with command.
Confusion delivered a well-placed punch to her frontal lobe. He’d just told her to quiet down, even though she hadn’t spoken a word.
“You’re thinking out loud,” he said, exasperation thick in his tone. “Now hush.”
Ugh. How could she have forgotten his ability to read her mind?
With a growl, she erected a mental block.
In the distance, new twigs snapped. Her ears twitched while the rest of her stiffened.
Feminine mumbles penetrated her awareness. Cameo swiped up the diamond dagger at the same time Lazarus palmed a spiked blade. His motion was barely perceptible. Had he not been on top of her, she would have missed the action.
The mumbling grew louder, until Cameo could make out the words. “—so much trouble! I mean it. Auntie Vie has a good thing going here. Babysitting duty will screw everything up.”
The familiar voice almost incited excitement. Almost.
“Viola.” Cameo experienced a single beat of relief before Misery poured an all too familiar sorrow into her heart.
Lazarus’s rigid posture softened. Sighing, he pushed to his feet and, with his fingers twined around hers, drew Cameo to a stand. The calluses on his palm created an undeniable zing of friction, a lance of pleasure shooting straight to her core. The heat returned. The aches reignited, and she trembled.
Look away from him! A difficult feat, but one she managed to accomplish. Barely.
Branches rattled and parted, revealing a five-foot-three pixie with long blond hair and cinnamon-colored eyes. As sexy as ever, she wore a black sequined dress. The center veed to a pierced navel and revealed the perfect swell of cleavage. The hem reached her knees, while a split on one side showcased a Kentucky bucket-load of thigh.
Though Viola was the keeper of Narcissism, she’d had nothing to do with Pandora’s box. However, there’d been more demons than thieves who’d released them, and those demons had required containment.
What better recipients for the leftovers than the immortals trapped in Tartarus? They couldn’t run, couldn’t hide.
Why Viola was imprisoned, she hadn’t yet shared.
The goddess spotted Cameo and stopped. Surprise never registered on her delicate features, only irritation. “A girl spends quality time building the perfect stay-away-from-me rep so losers will stop trying to steal her body, and this is her reward?” In each well-manicured hand, she clutched a dirt-caked child. “Look who dared show up at my door!”
Cameo jolted as if she’d been punched. Those dirt-caked kids were Urban and Ever. Her twin godchildren. Their father was Maddox, the keeper of Violence. Their mother was Ashlyn, a newly minted immortal, thanks to her marriage bond to Maddox.
Urban had his daddy’s black hair and startling violet eyes while Ever had her mother’s curling honey-colored hair and twinkling gaze to match. Both children possessed extraordinary powers, with some abilities yet to be tapped.
Cameo rushed over and pulled the kids against her, hugging both. She opened her mouth to demand answers. What were they doing here? How had they gotten here? Last time she’d seen them, they’d been in Budapest with their parents. But she snapped her mouth closed and remained quiet. Sadly, even little ones cried at the sound of her voice.
Frustration ate at her, making her miss Lazarus’s indifference.
An unexpected savior, he sidled up to her to ask the questions she couldn’t. When neither child responded, Viola gave them both a little shake.
“Start talking or I start spanking,” Viola said.
“Do you know how many toy soldiers will fit into a toilet before it clogs?” Urban asked with attitude. “Twelve. The number is twelve.”
Ever’s chin quavered as she peered down at her feet and kicked a pebble. “Mom and Dad are super worried about you, Aunt Cam. While they dealt with the great toilet crisis, we used the Paring Rod to check on you.”
Touched, Cameo pressed a hand over her heart.
Astonishment pulsed from Lazarus. “You’re children. Who taught you to use the Paring Rod?”
Urban crossed his arms over his chest, looking far older than his years and just as stubborn as his mother. “I don’t know you, so I don’t have to tell you anything but get lost.”
Viola pinched the bridge of her nose, as if she’d been pushed past the limits of her tolerance. “For disgusting little urchins, they’re extremely intelligent. They watched their aunts and uncles use the Paring Rod and ta-da. Here they are.”
Well. The kids needed to learn a hard lesson, and if Cameo had to make them sob in the process, so be it. “Coming here was irresponsible. Your parents are probably worried sick. And what if they followed you through the Paring Rod? What if they ended up in a different realm? They could be injured. Or worse!”
Ever hunched over and vomited the contents of her stomach.
Shit! Puking was a little too hard a lesson.
Tears poured down Urban’s cheeks as he wrapped an arm around his sister’s shoulders.
“Ouch,” Lazarus muttered, his lips twitching at the corners. “Aunt Cam is a hard-ass.”
She ignored the guilt...and the urge to lean against him, to bury her head in the hollow of his neck.
Viola fluffed her hair, her eyes dry. Like Lazarus, she didn’t react to Cameo. Either overwhelming sorrow already brewed inside her or she hid her sadness behind a veil of self-love. Either way, Cameo made a quality decision. She’s my new best friend.
“Mom and Dad don’t know we used the Paring Rod,” Urban said through his sniffles. “I hid our actions, even from Uncle Torin.”
Torin, keeper of Disease and one of Cameo’s old boyfriends, monitored the comings and goings of the entire fortress in Buda. Hiding anything from him required skill.
“You can’t know—” she began.
“I do know. Besides,” the little boy added, “you’re being a hypocrite. You came here. You worried my parents.”
Oookay. She couldn’t ignore the guilt any longer. She’d known her friends would worry, but she’d sought out Lazarus, anyway, desperate to regain her memory...secretly hoping to create new ones.
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