"Fine," he grumbled.
"So gracious." For over an hour, Ashlyn read from the pages of a romance novel. Fairy tales for adults, she'd once called them. Oh, to be part of a fairy tale with Lazarus, destined to have a happily-ever-after.
Impossible. This is it, Misery said. The best you're ever going to get.
Cameo believed him.
*
The next day, Lazarus fed and bathed her, as usual, remaining impersonal and personal at the same time. He touched her without any outward sign of emotion, but his fingers lingered on her breasts and between her legs. At first, she experienced a tingle of arousal. With arousal came hope.
The demon whispered, He's going to die. I wonder if you are the reason.
She cried. Lazarus dried her off and carried her back to bed.
How much longer would he live? How much longer would he put up with her?
Viola visited her and minded her manners, stretching out beside Cameo to tell her all about the armor she had designed, intending to keep herself and her pet safe from a winged beast with death on his mind. All she needed Cameo to do was make it.
Cameo drifted into a light doze, waking when she heard Lazarus's voice. He spoke in Typhonish, and he sounded angry. Through the shadows in the room, she glimpsed him standing on her balcony, wind whipping his hair as a storm raged. No sign of Viola or anyone else. Until lightning struck the sky. For a split second, she saw a sky serpent perched on the railing, his claws wrapped around the iron bar.
Her heart fluttered and--
Nothing. She closed her eyes. When next she woke, the storm had stopped.
Lazarus opened the bedroom door and a laughing Urban and Ever rushed inside. The little boy jumped on the end of the bed. When Cameo failed to react, he set her covers on fire. Ever doused the flames with a glaze of ice.
Life continues without me.
Cameo sighed, and the twins stopped laughing. Ever sobbed, and Urban teared up.
With a sigh of his own, Lazarus rushed the children into the hall and shouted for their parents.
What kind of monster are you, making those sweet babies cry? Misery asked.
Claw, rip. The sorrow sharpened, and her internal wounds hemorrhaged.
Lazarus returned to her side and smoothed away the hair that clung to her dampened cheek. "What am I going to do with you, sunshine?"
The demon had a million answers, none of them good.
Cameo's mind played a word-association game, making the leap from "none of them good" to "nothing good can happen" to "remember he's destined to die," to "everyone's going to die at some point" to "Pandora's box will kill us all." Juliette had said Lazarus already possessed the box. Had she spoken true, or had she sought to drive a wedge between her consort and his new slice?
Definitely a wedge. No way would Lazarus keep such a huge secret. He knew how much Cameo wanted--needed--that box. How the very survival of her loved ones depended on it.
Why would he want Pandora's box, anyway?
Well, that question was easy to answer. The Morning Star.
But if Lazarus had the box and wanted the Morning Star, why not open the box and take it?
Another easy answer. He feared killing Cameo the instant he lifted the lid.
He should kill me. I'm better off dead. Everyone will be better off.
"Enough," Lazarus said, the fury in his voice unmistakable. "Do not ever think like that again. No one is better off without you. Understand?"
With his words, something inside Cameo broke. His gaze had so often smoldered at her, promising her untold delights. His hands and body had touched her naked curves on more than one occasion, willing to dish those delights. Now all she could do was pray for death?
Cameo curled into her pillow and sobbed until she had no more tears to give. "My pleasure-feeling days are over." It was the first time she'd spoken in days--weeks?--and her raw throat protested.
"They are only beginning. You know this." Soft fingers combed through her hair, traced down the ridges of her spine before forcing her to roll to her side and gaze up at him. "This isn't you, sunshine." He cuddled behind her and kissed her nape. "Fight the demon. Fight for me."
What good had fighting ever done her? Always she ended up in this condition. "Go away. Please. Just go away."
For the first time in their acquaintance, he cringed at the sound of her voice.
No, not the first time. After the battle with Juliette, she'd seen the blood dripping from his ears. Like the Harpy, he'd stabbed himself to escape Cameo's voice.
He said nothing more.
Ensuring you won't utter another response.
"That's a lie of the demon," he grated. "I hate seeing you this way."
"Don't worry. You'll grow tired of this--of me--soon enough. Then you'll leave, and you won't have to see me at all." Though she thought her tear ducts dry, a new rain poured down her cheeks, scalding her skin.
The bed bounced, signaling Lazarus had risen. Footsteps pounded, creating an ominous sound track. Lights deluged the bedroom, chasing away precious shadows.
She cringed, blinking rapidly to soothe the burn in her tired eyes. "Off," she commanded.
"You want them off, you get your ass up and turn them off. I've coddled you long enough." With a dark scowl, he stomped to the bed.
The sight of him and his crackling fury cowed Misery, the demon hiding in the back of her mind, the cloud of oppression lifting... But he'd tasted the sweet reins of control and refused to relinquish them so easily. He hissed and clawed, and doom's tempestuous storm rolled back in.
Lazarus ripped the covers from her, cool air suddenly enveloping her. After the last shower, he'd dressed her in a tank top and a pair of panties. Motions firm and without a care for her tender flesh, he picked her up and draped her over his shoulder in a fireman carry. His stride long and without grace, he made his way to the door and threw it open.
One by one, her friends exited their rooms.
He growled, "This is happening. Don't try to stop me."
"Stop you? I'm too busy cheering you." Maddox, who had recovered from his broken spine, sounded downright friendly just then. "You should have done this days ago."
Lazarus smacked Cameo on the butt. Right there. In front of everyone. The sharp sting made her gasp.
"Can I keep him, Lucien?" Anya clapped. "Pretty please with a cherry on top of me. For the last five seconds, I've always wanted one!"
"Only if I can keep him, too," Lucien repli
ed. "Although there's still something off about him. Death goes crazy every time he's near."
"Lies doesn't." The denial came from Gideon.
"You took the words right out of my mouth," Strider said. "Or you would have, if you'd told the truth and mentioned Defeat. So what's the problem? How do you provoke the demons, dead man?"
Her friends sensed the box, too?
Lazarus ignored the question and gave Cameo's butt another smack. Her back teeth ground together.
"What did you do with her the last time she got like this?" Lazarus asked no one in particular.
"We waited," Sabin said. "Everything we tried made her worse."
"Well, I'm done waiting." Lazarus bypassed the group and pounded down the stairs.
To her annoyance, everyone followed him, eager to discover what he'd do next. Kane, the newly crowned king of the Fae, was among them. When had he returned from the underworld? Even Torin tagged along, the traitor!
Why had he dated her, anyway? What an ill-matched pair they'd been, unable to touch. Or rather, unwilling to touch, because she could have touched him; she wouldn't have gotten sick--probably--but she would have become a carrier, like him. They hadn't known about his cure back then.
They'd pleasured themselves while the other watched. Well, she'd pretended to pleasure herself. She'd faked every orgasm. Should she tell him? He would return to his room in a huff, and she'd have one less spectator.
"Don't worry, sunshine," Lazarus said. "I'll make sure he knows by the end of the day."
Her teeth ground together with a little more force. She erected the shield around her mind. "Unlike Misery, I find no enjoyment in hurting others. Don't say a word to him."
Groans swept through the crowd, but this time Lazarus gave no notice of her voice.
The demon prowled from the shadows, desperate to recover every inch of ground he'd lost. Couldn't keep Kane, couldn't keep Torin, won't keep Lazarus.
She whimpered. Lazarus gave her butt another smack.
Now she huffed and puffed. How dare he! "If you liked and respected me at all, you wouldn't treat me this way."
"It's because I like and respect you that I'm treating you this way." And just to be contrary, she was sure, he gave her another smack. He used more force, most definitely leaving a palm print.
Anger sparked. Why was he doing this? Where was he taking her?
He kicked open the front door and strode outside. Sunlight seeped into her skin, warming the bone-deep chill she hadn't realized she had felt. He stopped somewhere in the front yard and dropped her.