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.