The Darkest Promise. Gena Showalter

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The Darkest Promise - Gena Showalter Lords of the Underworld

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All personal feelings aside, only one question mattered. Who would get him closer to his vengeance?

      Rathbone inclined his head in agreement. “Very well.”

      “And now that that’s settled.” Lazarus tossed the kris without any warning. The blade cut through the male’s torso and came out the other side—with his liver. “I vowed to Cameo I would punish the one who hurt her. Now my vow is complete.”

      Rathbone winced before a new smile bloomed. “The first organ is free. The next one will cost you. Dearly.”

      “So you understand there will be a next. Excellent. We’re on the same page.”

      A bark of laughter echoed from the walls. Used to intimidating his foes, Lazarus had no idea how to proceed with this one.

      “I think I like you,” Rathbone said. “I think we’ll be great friends.”

      “I have no need of friends.” Though he did sometimes yearn for someone to trust, to guard his back and back his cause. “I don’t dislike you, but I’ll remove the rest of your organs, one at a time, if you steal from Cameo again.”

      “I now know I like you. If ever you need me—”

      “I need no one.” The statement rushed from him. A reassurance for himself as well as the underworld’s shape-shifter king.

      “But if ever you do—”

      “I won’t.”

      “—say my name.” A second later, Rathbone vanished.

      Lazarus stood in place, his hands curled into fists. Breathing became a little more difficult as he struggled to rein in his temper...and his lust.

      With the king gone, he had no distraction from Cameo’s magnetic allure. She was here. In his home. The woman against whom he would forever measure all others. The fever in his flesh, the ache in his bones.

      The weakness he had to excise, one way or another.

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       5

      “Step two: Threaten...and follow through.”

      —How to Achieve Victory

       Subtitle: Except with Lovers

      Cameo remained seated on the bed as an unfamiliar female bustled about in the bathroom. Rejection still rattled inside her brain like a barbed metal ball.

      I don’t hate you. But I don’t like you, either.

      Lazarus had told her what had transpired between them, but instead of setting her free of Misery’s shackles, he’d wrapped a new chain around her neck. The man had kissed and touched her...had given her pleasure. To her knowledge, he was the first. Also, he had no issues with Misery. And yet he couldn’t get rid of Cameo fast enough.

      Destined to be alone with me. Misery’s poison dripped from every word, searing hidden corners of her mind.

      Fate would not be so cruel. Fate—

      Could be far crueler. Her shoulders rolled in, her head bowing. A small flame of hope snuffed out, and a drop of wax seemed to splash onto her heart, burning a hole in the center. No matter how horrid her life, things could always get worse.

      At least her wounds had stopped stinging when Lazarus applied salve. Torn flesh had even woven together. He was right; no love buttons for Cameo.

      Of course, when he applied the salve, her pride had started stinging. His touch had been impersonal and rough, his expression twisted with repugnance.

      A sniffle wafted from the bathroom. Cameo stiffened. Never fails. Not a single word had left her mouth, and yet Misery had managed to infect the other woman.

      Poor servant girl, the demon said, his voice soft and sad. Your presence is torture for her.

      Wah, wah, wah. Cameo would not accept guilt for this. She wouldn’t! She wasn’t responsible for anyone else’s feelings.

      Aren’t you? You brought me into this realm...

      Fine. She wasn’t responsible for anyone else’s reaction to their feelings. But...

      Maybe she should go. There was no reason to await Lazarus’s return. She could find Viola without his help, thanks.

      No, she needed to stay. Her clothes were hanging on by a thread and a prayer, and the dirt caking her shirt itched.

      A new plan formed. Bath, change into clean clothes. Won’t let the door hit me on the way out.

      Most important, she would stay away from Lazarus.

      He knew so much about Cameo while she knew so little about him, and the imbalance chafed.

      What kind of ruler was he? Harsh? Or fair? How did he treat his people? Like chattel? Or prizes? Did he currently have a girlfriend? Or maybe girlfriends?

      Her nails dug into the mattress. Did he enjoy monogamy or have a fear of commitment?

      The pale-haired servant appeared in front of her. “The water is ready, miss. If you wish to bathe...please, this way.”

      First, Cameo gathered a handful of objects she could use as weapons.

      Weapons were a girl’s best friend.

      She selected a fire poker, and plucked the diamond tails—or rather, the perfect daggers—from the hand-carved sky serpents. For her troubles, she awarded herself both sets of ruby eyes.

      Ready for anything, she entered a spacious bathroom that was bigger than her bedroom at home. The walls of the shower stall were made of glistening crystals. Pillars braced the entrance of a large alcove, where a small, winding staircase led to a bubbling hot spring. Steam curled from the water’s surface, fragrant with the scents of rose, bergamot and neroli—

      Cameo blinked with surprise. Rose, bergamot and neroli. The essential oils used in her favorite soap. Coincidence?

      Had to be. No way Lazarus had noticed her preferred scents. Really no way he had purposely re-created the mix.

      I don’t hate you. But I don’t like you, either.

      Her nails scraped the fire poker as she continued her study of the bathroom. Find your exits long before it’s time to leave. A crystal chandelier hung above the hot spring. Grab, swing, drop. In a second crystal stall, she found a 24 karat gold toilet and bidet.

      Blondie attempted to remove Cameo’s shirt. With a snarl, Cameo leaped out of reach. No offense, but enough was enough. Until she wanted to be stabbed in the back or decapitated, she would not allow a stranger to stand behind her.

      Take me unawares once, my bad. Take me unawares twice, you die.

      Correction.

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