Guards rushed around the campsite, searching for the children, who'd decided to play hide-and-burn-the-one-who-seeks. She would have worried, but gleeful giggles drifted on the wind, reassuring her all was well.
Besides, Viola had told Urban to watch his sister, stay by the tents and not kill anyone. He'd agreed, saying, "For you, my sweet, anything."
Maddox would flip his lid when he found out about his son's crush.
"--will remain here," Lazarus was saying to a group of his men. "You will protect my cargo with your lives."
Cargo. Well. The children had been called worse.
A butterfly chose that moment to fly into the camp and land on Lazarus's shoulder, and a sudden sense of dread choked Cameo.
Something terrible was going to happen today.
"Do as he says and protect the children with your lives," she called, "or I'll remove your spines through your mouths--while singing."
A chorus of agonized wails broke out.
Lazarus faced her, admiration flickering in the depths of his dark eyes. Admiration...and just a little anger. He stalked toward her, the butterfly taking flight. "Ordering my men now?"
She held her ground. I was created for war. I will not surrender to him or any man. Even when this one's chocolate and champagne scent teased her senses.
"Now and always," she said.
"Sure you want to go with me?" He traced a fingertip along her jaw, sending shivers skittering through her. "If you're harmed, I'll be very displeased."
"Don't worry. I won't miss our kiss goodbye."
He leaned down, his nose brushing hers, his warm breath fanning her chin. "You know I'm a vengeful man, and still you taunt me. You're either brave or foolish. I'm not sure which. I do know I want more than a kiss. I want my night."
"I'm going home." For now. She would return to the spirit realms a third time to search for Pandora's box.
Would her search lead her back to Lazarus's kingdom?
"The others can go through the portal today. You can go through tomorrow."
Spend a single night with him? It's what he'd offered in the mirror's second vision... "Sorry, but I--"
"Don't say no. And don't make me wait for my kiss. I want it now." The look he gave her...it was as if she were the only woman ever born. The only woman he could see. The only woman he had ever wanted. "Give it to me."
Just like that, he stripped her of inhibition and apprehension, and exposed the rawness of her desire. Denying him wasn't an option, but helping him wasn't wise.
"You want it?" she croaked. "Take it."
He cupped her nape and yanked her against the solid line of his body. As she gasped, he pressed his mouth against hers and thrust his tongue deep. Just like his scent, his taste devastated her senses; it was as dark and rich and sweet as a fine wine, and more intoxicating than ambrosia.
In his arms, she came alive.
The simmer in her blood heated to a rolling boil and burned her from the inside out, branding her, and she moaned. Her bones dissolved. To remain upright, all she could do was cling to him.
He kissed her without reservation, as if he wanted to savor her. He kissed her as if he wanted to devour her. As if she were a treasure he'd sought his entire life--as if he planned to enjoy her forever.
When passion and pleasure collided with the demon's sadness--passion and pleasure won! Cameo careened from shock, her nails sinking into Lazarus's wide shoulders. So strong. So male.
How can I ever let him go?
A growl reverberated in his chest as the tone of the kiss changed. From a molten exploration to an unstoppable consumption. Their thirst for each other was unquenchable. He rubbed against her, the feel of his shaft incredible. It was hard and long and thick.
Cameo's breath mingled with his, until they were inhaling the same air. Until she--
Heard a feminine sigh of annoyance?
Lazarus released her and stepped back, no part of him touching her. A travesty. Cameo panted, her knees quaking, her limbs fighting to return to their solid state.
Fury darkened his features, and he spat, "Distraction kills."
Wait. He blamed her for the kiss?
"--can't ever get enough of me," Viola was saying. "The same isn't true of you two. Can we go now? I'm late for a very important date."
Lazarus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. As if the taste of Cameo were suddenly repellent to him. He focused on his men. "If any harm comes to the children, you had best run. Not that it will do you any good. I'll give chase."
Misery snickered, and Cameo wither--
No! Not this time. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. Lazarus had given her undeniable pleasure, muting the effects of the demon. She would forgive his brutish behavior, whatever the reason for it.
But will I forget?
She flattened a hand on her stomach. His rejection had stung, yes, but it had come as a result of their kiss. The single greatest experience of her life. She would rather lose a limb than her memory.
To Viola, he said, "Tell me how to use the ring."
"Sorry." The goddess held out her hand, palm up. "I need to show you."
He opened and closed his mouth. With a blistering curse, he relinquished control of the band. "If this is a trick..."
"Why would she trick you?" Cameo demanded. "Right now, we all have the same goal."
He ignored her, wouldn't even glance in her direction.
Viola blew her pet a kiss. "There's no reason to worry. Mommy will return." She waved the ring through the air, and a rift sliced into the landscape. An opening between one realm and another, wide enough for the seven-foot-tall Lazarus to step through with ease.
Cameo followed on his heels, and the goddess followed on hers. The rift closed with an audible snap.
A barren wasteland surrounded them, the heat nearly unbearable. Sweat beaded over Cameo's skin. The ground had been scorched, the dirt black and layered with char, while tendrils of smoke curled from red-veined cracks. The sky fared no better, thick clouds leaking an oily black substance.
Viola skipped to a boulder and sat down to file her nails. "I've decided to bench myself. Go on without me."
What! She'd insisted on coming, only to skip the action?
Lazarus marched over, unceremoniously removed the ring from her finger and stalked onward, all without speaking a word. And she was the one referred to as the Mother of Melancholy. He should be the Father of Pity Parties.
Cameo raced to catch up then kept pace at his side. Charred earth soon gave way to a cobbled path.
"Have you ever fought an automaton?" she asked.
"When I was a child, my father dropped me in the middle of a horde. Literally. He told me not to come home without a piece of metal and pushed me off the back of a sky serpent."
"That's horrible, Lazarus!"
"No. That's life. My past forged me into the man I am today. Strong and fearless."
"And humble?"
He nodded. "My humbleness is one of my favorite things about myself."
A smile attempted to bloom on her face. "Would you do something so coldhearted to your own son?"
"I'll never have children," he replied easily.
"Because you can't or because you don't want any?"
"Don't want?"
He wasn't sure?
"Do you want children?" he asked.
She imagined herself as a mother, and Lazarus as the father. He would be protective of his brood. He would tease his little boys and girls when they cried, turning tears to laughter.
Her heart squeezed with longing.
"I do," she admitted. "One day. But only if I'm demon-free."
They reached a bank of gnarled trees. With Lazarus's aid, the limbs softly slapped her cheeks. His own personal joke? Or a means of keeping her on edge rather than saddened?
He helps me, doesn't he?
If only she could keep him. Thanks to the mirror, she knew she would lose him if she stayed here.
&nbs
p; But what would happen after she left him?
Would she return, as planned? Would he find a way to pass through the portal? Could he?
She wished the mirror had shown her the outcome of the second option.
As she trudged forward, she made sure to step only where Lazarus stepped, but his tread was so light she often had trouble detecting his footprint.