The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld #13)

As Rathbone returned his attention to the invisible wall, Cameo focused on the goddess, a weapon in hand, her brow furrowed with confusion as she watched the monster.

Lazarus stepped toward Hera and winced. The crystals—pupa? Or perhaps a mix of both in his case?—were spreading even now, rising up his neck, over his cheeks and clogging his ears. Dead silence overtook him. He heard nothing, not even a tremulous ring. The substance filled his lungs. Breathing became more difficult.

He had mere minutes left.

Though he wanted to go to Cameo, to stare into her exquisite face as he met his end, he lumbered toward Hera. The goddess had no place to go. Typhon’s fire surrounded her. She narrowed her eyes, lifted her chin. Ever rebellious against the inevitable.

Kill the threat to my woman, welcome eternity. He swung.

A look of horror contorted Cameo’s features. She screamed and lunged in front of Hera. No time to pull his arm back or angle the direction of the weapon. The Paring Rod pierced her chest. She gasped and shook. He roared.

No! What had she done? What had he done?

He’d hurt the woman he loved. He might have killed—

No, no, no. “Why? Why did you do this?” He attempted to yank the Paring Rod out of her. Any moment now, the artifact would suck her spirit through a portal...but the tip of the weapon remained caught in her sternum. To remove it, he would have to remove her entire rib cage. Her lungs would collapse, and her already damaged heart would stop.

The injuries would agonize her, but they would heal.

First...he shoved the pipe over the Rod, sheathing it. “Live forever,” he commanded. “I demand the demon leave you. Demand your spirit remains inside your body. Do you hear me? I own the pipe and therefore the compulsion. It was a gift. I demand that you live. Obey me!”

Blood poured from the corners of her mouth as she tried to speak.

She was still dying.

No! He gave a final yank, the Paring Rod at last pulling free. It took only half of her rib cage with it. Hardly a silver lining. Her back bowed as her legs and chest collapsed. She released another scream as her knees gave out, and he tossed the artifacts aside. Beneath her skin, veins of black appeared, tentacles seeming to writhe inside them. Her entire body seized.

The demon was leaving her?

Black soon turned to gray and gray to blue, until the tracery of veins beneath her skin appeared normal, healthy. Then a black mist rose from her shirt—no, not her shirt but the pendant underneath her shirt.

Yes! Her demon.

The mist hovered over her, neon eyes glowing from within. Those eyes locked on Lazarus. Fangs snapped at him before the mist darted out of the temple, unencumbered by the invisible wall.

Had his Cami survived?

Lazarus dropped to his knees, knew he would be frozen in this humbled position for the rest of his life, but didn’t care. He had to touch Cameo, had to learn her fate. Trembling, he smoothed his fingertips over the softness of her cheek.

The healthy color had vanished, leaving her chalk white. She panted and wheezed. But she hadn’t entered the spirit realm. Why?

“He’s...gone,” she said. “Misery...gone...cleansed...happiness...remember...”

She remembered...Lazarus?

He wanted to shout with joy. He wanted to sob. What would happen next? She couldn’t die. She couldn’t!

“My apple!” Hera, who stood on Cameo’s other side, reached for the pendant.

Rathbone caught her wrist and wrestled her away. Leaving Lazarus to his goodbye.

No! Hell, no. This would not be Cameo’s end. Only his.

“Why?” he demanded.

“She was...about to...stab you...”

Hera had cast an illusion, then. And Cameo had thought she was saving him. Him, a man she hadn’t even remembered at the time.

How could he let her go?

Lazarus...king...butterflies.

Butterflies had always been drawn to him. Why? Because like was drawn to like? Was he... Could he be...

Caterpillars transformed into butterflies when they entered a chrysalis.

Hydra, his ancestor, could not be killed. Typhon could not be killed. Chrysalis... As a spirit, Lazarus had passed through a portal meant for mortals. Because of the pupa—or forming chrysalis. Because it had caused his physical body to change...to regenerate?

Because it strengthened him rather than weakened?

Chrysalis... The butterfly could not escape without fighting free. Could he fight his way free? Would he be stronger if—when—he emerged?

His father hadn’t fought his way out of his chrysalis. But then, his father had hated his μονομαν?α. He’d had no reason to fight. Lazarus loved his sunshine. And love trumped hate every time.

Lazarus...king...butterflies.

What if he could help Cameo with the pupa?

What if he doomed her?

No time to debate. Her breaths were coming faster now, were only growing shallower. Neither of them had any other options. Hera looked to be strengthening, the color returning to her cheeks. At the same time, the illusion of Typhon began to fade, just like the illusion around the apple had faded.

With a grunt, Lazarus used the last of his strength to unsheathe a dagger and slice his wrist. He placed the wound over Cameo’s, letting his pupa and blood pour into her.

His gaze remained locked on her—no movement, no pulse—as the pupa continued to grow and spread through him...no! Not yet! He had to know if she survived. Had to see her smile one last time. But the substance stabbed through his eyes, blinding him...then finally entered the chambers of his heart, leaving him aware of the world, but completely incapacitated.





30

“Every end heralds a new beginning. Never waste yours.”

—How Boys Become Men

—The Darkest Promise

Subtitle: The Story of Lazarus and His Cameo

Memories deluged Cameo, overtaking her completely. She lived in those memories, the rest of the world forgotten. She remembered every time she’d ever smiled or laughed.

The time Torin told her, “If Disease spread Ebola rather than the dreaded man-cold, people would have a chance at survival!”

When Maddox said, “You hit like a bitch. If bitches hit like Mack trucks.”

When Kane had teasingly said, “The fact that Misery and Disaster couldn’t make a relationship work? One of life’s greatest mysteries.”

She remembered the times she’d felt valued. When Sabin and Strider presented her with the heads of her torturers. When Amun took a bullet meant for her. When Lucien, Gideon and Reyes cooked a Thanksgiving meal, just because she’d mentioned wanting to spend the holiday like a normal person. When Paris and Aeron showed up at an immortal bar after she’d agreed to meet a shifter for a “night of fun you’ll never forget.” The shifter had run away after only ten minutes in her company, but her boys had stayed behind to dance with her. And later kicked the shifter’s ass, of course.