The Darkest Promise. Gena Showalter
was the keeper of Narcissism, she’d had nothing to do with Pandora’s box. However, there’d been more demons than thieves who’d released them, and those demons had required containment.
What better recipients for the leftovers than the immortals trapped in Tartarus? They couldn’t run, couldn’t hide.
Why Viola was imprisoned, she hadn’t yet shared.
The goddess spotted Cameo and stopped. Surprise never registered on her delicate features, only irritation. “A girl spends quality time building the perfect stay-away-from-me rep so losers will stop trying to steal her body, and this is her reward?” In each well-manicured hand, she clutched a dirt-caked child. “Look who dared show up at my door!”
Cameo jolted as if she’d been punched. Those dirt-caked kids were Urban and Ever. Her twin godchildren. Their father was Maddox, the keeper of Violence. Their mother was Ashlyn, a newly minted immortal, thanks to her marriage bond to Maddox.
Urban had his daddy’s black hair and startling violet eyes while Ever had her mother’s curling honey-colored hair and twinkling gaze to match. Both children possessed extraordinary powers, with some abilities yet to be tapped.
Cameo rushed over and pulled the kids against her, hugging both. She opened her mouth to demand answers. What were they doing here? How had they gotten here? Last time she’d seen them, they’d been in Budapest with their parents. But she snapped her mouth closed and remained quiet. Sadly, even little ones cried at the sound of her voice.
Frustration ate at her, making her miss Lazarus’s indifference.
An unexpected savior, he sidled up to her to ask the questions she couldn’t. When neither child responded, Viola gave them both a little shake.
“Start talking or I start spanking,” Viola said.
“Do you know how many toy soldiers will fit into a toilet before it clogs?” Urban asked with attitude. “Twelve. The number is twelve.”
Ever’s chin quavered as she peered down at her feet and kicked a pebble. “Mom and Dad are super worried about you, Aunt Cam. While they dealt with the great toilet crisis, we used the Paring Rod to check on you.”
Touched, Cameo pressed a hand over her heart.
Astonishment pulsed from Lazarus. “You’re children. Who taught you to use the Paring Rod?”
Urban crossed his arms over his chest, looking far older than his years and just as stubborn as his mother. “I don’t know you, so I don’t have to tell you anything but get lost.”
Viola pinched the bridge of her nose, as if she’d been pushed past the limits of her tolerance. “For disgusting little urchins, they’re extremely intelligent. They watched their aunts and uncles use the Paring Rod and ta-da. Here they are.”
Well. The kids needed to learn a hard lesson, and if Cameo had to make them sob in the process, so be it. “Coming here was irresponsible. Your parents are probably worried sick. And what if they followed you through the Paring Rod? What if they ended up in a different realm? They could be injured. Or worse!”
Ever hunched over and vomited the contents of her stomach.
Shit! Puking was a little too hard a lesson.
Tears poured down Urban’s cheeks as he wrapped an arm around his sister’s shoulders.
“Ouch,” Lazarus muttered, his lips twitching at the corners. “Aunt Cam is a hard-ass.”
She ignored the guilt...and the urge to lean against him, to bury her head in the hollow of his neck.
Viola fluffed her hair, her eyes dry. Like Lazarus, she didn’t react to Cameo. Either overwhelming sorrow already brewed inside her or she hid her sadness behind a veil of self-love. Either way, Cameo made a quality decision. She’s my new best friend.
“Mom and Dad don’t know we used the Paring Rod,” Urban said through his sniffles. “I hid our actions, even from Uncle Torin.”
Torin, keeper of Disease and one of Cameo’s old boyfriends, monitored the comings and goings of the entire fortress in Buda. Hiding anything from him required skill.
“You can’t know—” she began.
“I do know. Besides,” the little boy added, “you’re being a hypocrite. You came here. You worried my parents.”
Oookay. She couldn’t ignore the guilt any longer. She’d known her friends would worry, but she’d sought out Lazarus, anyway, desperate to regain her memory...secretly hoping to create new ones.
All for nothing! He dislikes me.
Great! Bitterness frothed alongside the guilt.
“I told the little monsters they’re fools,” Viola said. “Because I’m smart. The smartest one here, no question.”
Urban flipped her off.
“Oh, how sweet. You’re my number one fan.” The goddess patted the top of his head. “That’s not exactly a shocker, kid. I’m everyone’s favorite.”
The self-love sprang from the demon, so Cameo wouldn’t castigate her.
She motioned for the children to cover their ears. As soon as they obeyed, she said, “Where have you been? One day you were safe at home, the next you were gone, a note on your pillow. Don’t wait up.” She notched a fist on her hip. “Why did you return to the spirit realms?”
“Maybe I get better cell service here.” Viola gave her hair another fluff, a silver ring glinting on her finger. “Maybe my real friends are here.”
“I decided we’re besties. Deal with it.”
Viola waved a hand in front of Cameo’s face. “You really know how to bring down the vibe, don’t you?”
She nodded. Truth was truth.
Lazarus stepped between them, a muscle jumping beneath his eye. “A ball gag would make an excellent lip gloss for you, goddess.” Fury crackled in his tone.
Uh, what had gotten him so worked up?
Viola wiggled her perfectly plucked brows. “Is that an invitation, warrior? Because I accept.”
Oh, no she didn’t.
A dark, gnarled limb sprouted through the chambers inside Cameo’s heart, growing from a root of envy. Despite the presence of Narcissism, Viola exuded a normal woman’s sensuality. She could flirt and charm with abandon and happiness was hers for the taking—and the giving! She could give a fierce man like Lazarus what Cameo could not—untainted pleasure.
Rethinking our friendship...
Ever heaved a disgruntled sigh. “Earmuffing is getting old.”
Urban tapped his foot, impatient.
Cameo held up her index finger, requesting another minute. Glaring at Lazarus, she asked, “Is Viola in the running for your wife?”
Viola said, “Yes. Of course. I’m in everyone’s running.”
He snorted. “Say the word, and I’ll gladly introduce her to the end of my sword. And before your raging jealousy decides I’m bluffing in an effort to hide my desire for her, know that I burn for one woman, only one, and she is a black haired, silver-eyed vixen.”
The limb in Cameo’s heart shrank, the root catching flame. Her knees trembled. Lazarus might not like her, but he desired her. No, he burned for her.
Breathless, she said, “We need to get the children to the portal.” The sooner the better. Maddox and Ashlyn had to be agonized by the loss of their children. “How far must we travel?”
“Three days in the opposite direction. We’ll return to the palace and head out at first light.”
“But—”
“You