Living without him would not be possible now.
Perhaps he felt the same about her? He'd called her monomania. Spelled monomania, the Greek word for kink or obsession.
A single doubt nagged at her, however. When she'd mentioned Pandora's box, some dark emotion had flashed in his eyes. Guilt? Anger? If she were his obsession, he would have told her if he'd found the artifact. He wouldn't allow her to wonder and worry needlessly.
Despite his moniker, Lazarus was kind and caring. At least, he was kind and caring with her.
Fear prickled along the nape of her neck when she saw that the crystals had spread farther down his chest. She wanted so badly to talk to Torin and Keeley, but she wouldn't betray her man's trust. Not even to save his life.
After all, there was a way to stop this. He'd said so.
Whatever he needed to do, he would do. Whatever she needed to do, she would do. End of story.
As carefully as possible, she extracted herself from his embrace. Already mourning the loss of his heat and hardness, she donned a robe and tiptoed to the vanity, where she sat and peered into the mirror.
"Help me help him," she whispered. "Show me what to do."
The glass remained intact.
"Please," she said, desperate.
Nothing. No change.
Why! Why would the mirror deny her now?
Misery laughed, and her shoulders rolled in. But she caught the action and forced her shoulders to square. No! No more sorrow.
The demon stopped laughing.
A soft knock sounded at the door. When Lazarus gave no notice, Cameo stood and tiptoed to the entrance. Torin stood in the hall, his white hair in complete disarray and his expression grim.
Nerves suddenly razed, she closed the door behind her. "What's wrong?"
He couldn't mask his flinch. "I've wanted to speak with you for a week but...yeah. Anyway. As soon as you took off to find Lazarus, I started digging into his past. When Keeley saw my notes, some memories clicked into place for her."
Her stomach churned with an influx of concern. "I won't tell you anything I know, but I will listen to what you discovered."
"He's dying," her friend announced, and she stumbled backward, hitting the door. "A few hours ago, Lucien and Viola confirmed it. As Death and the Afterlife, they see what we can't. An end for you or Lazarus. But I know it's Lazarus. His veins are filling with strange crystals, yes? Keeley informed me the same transformation happened to his father...after he met Lazarus's mother."
Horror petrified her muscles. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Torin's emerald eyes filled with pity, but he said no more. No other words were necessary.
After he met Lazarus's mother...
Cameo was Lazarus's doom. She had caused the crystals to spread.
In the back of her mind, Misery began to laugh again. Only a matter of time before you want to forget the male, eh?
"I didn't want to tell you," Torin said, "didn't want to cause another episode."
Episode. What an innocent, insufficient word for the deluge of sorrow she'd so often endured.
He continued. "I asked Keeley if there is a way to save him, but every time she thinks about him, she gets wrapped up in two words. Well, three words if you count his name. Lazarus, king and butterflies."
So. Cameo had been right all along. Butterflies did herald doom.
Light-headed, she reached out, found and twisted the doorknob, closing the door in Torin's face. Tears filled her eyes as she raced back into the room and found Lazarus sitting on the edge of the bed.
He wore a wrinkled shirt and a pair of pants. His weapons were already in place. As he tugged on his boot, rage shimmered in his eyes.
"You know," he said, his voice flat.
"Know that I'm the one killing you?" A barbed lump grew inside her throat. "Yes. I want you to go, Lazarus. Now. Never come back. You aren't welcome here anymore."
He yanked on the second boot and stood to his full seven-foot height. Unwilling to meet his gaze, Cameo strode to the closet, where she discarded her robe and dressed in a sports bra, a pair of fighting leathers and a tank top.
When she emerged, he was right there to greet her, backing her into the wall. "I won't give you up," he grated.
A promise. A promise that caused her heart to split down the center and bleed into her chest. "You don't have a choice."
"I always have a choice."
Oh, really? She slapped him with every bit of her strength. Crimson leaked from his mouth as his head whipped to the side. His gaze narrowed to tiny slits.
"I attacked you," she spit at him. "Go ahead. Tell me I'm your enemy now."
His hands wrapped around her vulnerable neck. Instead of squeezing, he grazed his thumb over her wild pulse. "You will never be my enemy. Hit me all you want, love. I will never hit back."
"Don't call me your love." He didn't mean it. He couldn't. The man who loved her would not betray her. "You are choosing to let me destroy you. You are choosing to let me deal with guilt and misery when you're gone. You are choosing to--" Leave me. Her chin trembled. She quieted before she began to sob. Can't do this.
She pointed to the door, her message clear.
Lazarus released her. Rather than leaving, he flattened his palms at her temples and leaned in until they were nose to nose, breathing each other's breath the way they'd done when they'd last kissed. The memory would forever--
The memory. Her eyes widened. She could allow Misery to wipe her mind. And she would leave herself a note, warning herself a
bout Lazarus. No, a note could be disposed of too easily. She could tattoo herself. Then Lazarus would have no reason to stay.
With the thought, she couldn't breathe. Forget the bliss she experienced with this man? Forget his every kiss, his every touch and the feel of his body filling hers? Forget how she'd had hope for a better future, if only for a little while?
A fierce growl rose from him. "You will not forget me, Cameo."
"My choice," she said softly.
"Do it, then. Go so far as to tattoo yourself. I won't leave you. I'll stay here and romance you back into my arms."
Have to stay the course. It's for his own good. "You can try, but I'll resist you." She would find a way.
His hands fisted. "You want to keep me around, love. Trust me."
"I don't, I can't--"
"Cameo, I have the box."
No...he couldn't. "You're lying."
"I often misdirect, misguide and mislead, but I never lie. I found it, fought for it, and now I guard it to save your life."
Her earlier doubt resurfaced, but still she shook her head. "Keeley would have known--"
"Wrong. I used an illusion to hide its presence from her."
"Your illusions aren't strong enough--"
Suddenly the entire room erupted into orange-gold flames. They crackled around her bed, underneath the mirror Lazarus had given her, and on her curtains and rug. Heat enveloped her, and sweat popped up on her upper lip. She opened her mouth to shout for an extinguisher, but the flames vanished, taking the heat with them.
"You were saying?" Lazarus asked quietly.
"You...you bastard! You let me worry other immortals would find and destroy the box before I could find it. You let me stew over Juliette. Did you secretly laugh at me behind my back?"
"Never. I've only ever laughed at you to your face."
Jokes? Now? Cameo slapped him again. "Where is it?" she demanded. "Tell me."
"That, I won't do." He wiped the new stream of blood from his mouth before placing his hands against the wall behind her, caging her in. "You would use it to kill yourself."
"I would never--" She pressed her lips together. Wouldn't she? If Misery made her miserable enough... "Give the box to Torin. He won't let me near it, and my friends will be protected from it."