Gena Showalter - The Darkest Promise

A sniffle wafted from the bathroom. Cameo stiffened. Never fails. Not a single word had left her mouth, and yet Misery had managed to infect the other woman.

Poor servant girl, the demon said, his voice soft and sad. Your presence is torture for her.

Wah, wah, wah. Cameo would not accept guilt for this. She wouldn’t! She wasn’t responsible for anyone else’s feelings.

Aren’t you? You brought me into this realm...

Fine. She wasn’t responsible for anyone else’s reaction to their feelings. But...

Maybe she should go. There was no reason to await Lazarus’s return. She could find Viola without his help, thanks.

No, she needed to stay. Her clothes were hanging on by a thread and a prayer, and the dirt caking her shirt itched.

A new plan formed. Bath, change into clean clothes. Won’t let the door hit me on the way out.

Most important, she would stay away from Lazarus.

He knew so much about Cameo while she knew so little about him, and the imbalance chafed.

What kind of ruler was he? Harsh? Or fair? How did he treat his people? Like chattel? Or prizes? Did he currently have a girlfriend? Or maybe girlfriends?

Her nails dug into the mattress. Did he enjoy monogamy or have a fear of commitment?

The pale-haired servant appeared in front of her. “The water is ready, miss. If you wish to bathe...please, this way.”

First, Cameo gathered a handful of objects she could use as weapons.

Weapons were a girl’s best friend.

She selected a fire poker, and plucked the diamond tails—or rather, the perfect daggers—from the hand-carved sky serpents. For her troubles, she awarded herself both sets of ruby eyes.

Ready for anything, she entered a spacious bathroom that was bigger than her bedroom at home. The walls of the shower stall were made of glistening crystals. Pillars braced the entrance of a large alcove, where a small, winding staircase led to a bubbling hot spring. Steam curled from the water’s surface, fragrant with the scents of rose, bergamot and neroli—

Cameo blinked with surprise. Rose, bergamot and neroli. The essential oils used in her favorite soap. Coincidence?

Had to be. No way Lazarus had noticed her preferred scents. Really no way he had purposely re-created the mix.

I don’t hate you. But I don’t like you, either.

Her nails scraped the fire poker as she continued her study of the bathroom. Find your exits long before it’s time to leave. A crystal chandelier hung above the hot spring. Grab, swing, drop. In a second crystal stall, she found a 24 karat gold toilet and bidet.

Blondie attempted to remove Cameo’s shirt. With a snarl, Cameo leaped out of reach. No offense, but enough was enough. Until she wanted to be stabbed in the back or decapitated, she would not allow a stranger to stand behind her.

Take me unawares once, my bad. Take me unawares twice, you die.

Correction. Take me unawares once, you die.

Cameo motioned for Blondie to leave. Unfortunately the servant missed the action, remaining in place, her head bowed.

Rather than speak, Cameo gave Blondie a gentle push...she stumbled but quickly dug in her heels.

Had Lazarus ordered her to spy? Fear of his wrath must be great.

Fine. Whatever. Keeping Blondie within sight, Cameo stripped. A miraculous feat, considering she retained her hold on the weapons. After walking up the stairs backward, she entered the welcoming water and placed the weapons around the rim of the tub.

With a sigh akin to contentment, she eased onto a waiting bench, where multiple jets massaged sore muscles.

Blondie sniffled again, ruining the moment.

Misery kicked against Cameo’s skull, a flash of memory consuming her mind.

“Maybe I’ll kill you and gift her with your head,” Cameo had said. She sat in the thick of a forest, glaring up at the warrior.

She’d threatened him? Why? Damn it. Did the demon hope to taint her feelings for Lazarus?

And what had she meant? Gift her. Her who?

Juliette, Misery said. The Harpy who once enslaved him.

The demon loved to parse out the details he’d stolen from her, giving just enough info to send her imagination into a tailspin.

“Maybe I’ll cut out your tongue and do the world a favor,” Lazarus had replied. He sat at her side, a tower of menace and strength, sexy beyond imagining.

Whoa. He had dared to threaten Cameo?

Obviously. At least she’d gritted her teeth in irritation instead of fear and said, “Maybe I’ll gut you just for giggles.”

“Maybe I’ll stab the life out of you and do myself a favor.”

Oh, yes. He’d dared. But he’d been amused rather than enraged.

Cameo had jumped to her feet and motioned him closer. “You want to do this, warrior? Because I’m ready. Anytime. Anyplace.”

His big body had unfolded as he’d stood, the movement graceful, his strength on display...and fascinating. “You don’t want to take me on, little girl. You’ll lose.”

Little girl? She would hack him into a thousand pieces.

“I think differently,” she’d said, surprising her present self. Stop baiting him and start attacking! Maybe take him on the worst date of his life...to a karaoke bar. “On both counts.”

She hadn’t attacked. She’d pressed her chest against his and reveled in his hardness.

Well. Attraction had clearly addled her brain. Despite everything, she’d wanted his strong arms wrapped around her, his warm breath on her nape.

“Do your worst, then,” he had said. “But have no doubts, I’ll then do mine.”

The memory began to dwindle. Nooo! Cameo scrambled to keep the playback front and center. She had to know more! What was his worst? What had followed his newest threat? Had they apologized to each other? Or had they split up?

Her mind blanked. With a frustrated shriek, she slammed her fist into the rim of the tub.

Blondie heaved a great sob.

Fighting the crush of defeat, Cameo slunk deeper into the water. Not knowing the minute details of her life killed her. Especially because the tricky demon only ever unveiled bits and pieces of her past, and always completely out of context, forcing her to speculate about why, what and how.

Cameo washed from head to toe, and wondered about Lazarus. He claimed she’d writhed in his arms and begged for more. If anyone could rock her world, it was that male. Beauty and strength wrapped in smoldering sensuality, sprinkled with ferocity.

Finished, she gathered her weapons and descended the stairs. Blondie rushed over to dry her, but she snatched the towel to dry herself. The material wasn’t cotton or silk, but something a thousand times softer.

Blondie gathered clean clothing, and Cameo dressed without complaint while cringing inside. A diamond-encrusted bra and blink-and-you’ll-miss-them bottoms? Really?

Brow arched, she pointed to the gossamer cloth.

“Shorts,” Blondie said and hid a chuckle behind her hand.

Silly me for not knowing. Call her old-fashioned, but Cameo believed her shorts should be longer than her butt crack.

Whatever. She secured the weapons and headed for the door. Blondie raced in front of her to motion to the vanity. Wanted to brush and style her hair, did she? Deep down, Cameo wanted to say yes, despite the foolishness of the act. She wanted Lazarus to take one look at her and basically shit himself. Don’t like me? Fine. But you’ll wish I liked you!

Problem: Blondie would have to stand at Cameo’s back to—

Oh, who cared? What kind of warrior couldn’t protect herself from a single person?

Cameo placed a dagger on the vanity—in plain sight—and eased onto the chair.

Blondie trembled as she lifted a brush. One minute bled into another, zero attacks launched, and Cameo began to relax...until the mirror in front of her moved.