The Darkest Torment
Page 105
She gasped as the implications of his words dawned. The hounds were coming out of hiding, and there would be no keeping Hades in the dark.
She would have to do something. With or without the coin.
“What’s wrong?” Baden hadn’t heard Roar’s speech, and must have assumed the worst, considering her reaction. “Tell me before I lose control.”
“The hounds...they’re going to...they’re mine, all of them. My family. Now and always.” But they were Hades’s enemy, and Baden was Hades’s man; that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. If ever.
There had to be a way to coexist. There just had to be.
A flood of possessiveness...ferocity...filled her, her inner hellhound making itself known.
I will protect what’s mine—till my dying breath.
29
“I apologize for offending you. Be assured, it won’t happen again. Oh, and by the way. You’re a pussy.”
–Neeka, the Unwanted
A SHARP RAP at the door. Cameo stalked across the hotel room to welcome the delivery boy inside. The two-story suite was the best of the best, complete with luxuries that would make anyone joyous. Anyone but her. She saw only a means to an end. A way to get to Lazarus.
I’m coming for you...
There were two benefits a hotel such as this one provided for its wealthier guests. One, she could get anything she wanted or needed simply by picking up the phone, and two, privacy was a given. Even the maids couldn’t enter without her express permission.
She scanned the immediate area as she turned the knob—all weapons were hidden.
She waved the male inside. He wheeled the tray into the small kitchen and she began to hope the encounter would end without any exchange of words.
She should have known better. Good things rarely happened to her.
“Are you having a nice day, ma’am?”
Ma’am. That’s what I’ve become?
She could have nodded. She could have ignored him or pretended to be deaf. Three things she’d done in the past. Not exactly feeing charitable, she said, “Yes.”
That was it. One word. Tears began to pour from his eyes as if he’d sprung a leak.
Humans! Breakable little flowers, all of them. Besides the deaf human she’d once loved—the human who’d betrayed her to Hunters, nearly ending her life—the only beings who’d been able to spend any length of time with her were the demon-possessed immortals she lived with. But even with them, she had to limit what she said.
So many words were trapped inside her!
One day, those words would reach the tipping point and spew out—and the world would probably end as misery spread, suicides and homicides abounding.
The man wiped his eyes with a look of surprise. “I’m sorry. I have no idea what’s come over me.”
If ever he learned the truth, he would either die of a heart attack, or he’d crap his pants.
No time to bury the body, no desire to launder his clothing.
She escorted him to the door without saying a word. As he raced down the hall, embarrassed by his tears, she sealed herself inside the suite, only then relaxing enough to smell the creamy pasta and steamed vegetables. As a possible last meal it would be...adequate. But then, no food had ever tasted like anything more than powder to her. Except for chocolate, of course. That, she enjoyed, but she limited her intake because she needed something to look forward to and the more she indulged, the easier it would be for Misery to ruin it.
Except...this time, even the thought of chocolate caused warmth to spill through her. She tingled, she ached...with the ghost of a memory? Had Lazarus drizzled chocolate sauce over her entire body and licked her clean?
A girl could dream.
Excitement for the future filled her—and agonized Misery. The demon, in turn, did what he always did when she experienced anything other than sadness, reminding her of the biggest obstacle in her way.
No one could stand her for long. Why would Lazarus be any different?
Because he’s mine?
Her friends had overcome centuries of evil when they’d met their women. Without the box, without her freedom, going to Lazarus was the best—the only—way to succeed and find what the others had: someone to love.
Maybe. Was he even mate material?
Not knowing agonized her.
And, having no idea what she would face during her quest to find him, she had to keep her strength up; she ate every crumb, even as the food settled like lead balls in her stomach. When she finished, she entered the bedroom where she’d stored the three artifacts and Danika’s painting.
She took a minute to send a group text to her friends, telling them where she’d ended up. They needed to know where to find the artifacts when she was gone.
Don’t try to stop me. I have to do this. I’ll return if I can, but if I can’t, know that I’m doing my best to live the life I’ve always wanted.
The guys would give her an hour, maybe two, before they burst into the room. They worried for her safety far too much to wait much longer. They always had, even in the heavens.
Within seconds, everyone had texted her back with either curses or entreaties to be careful. Torin, the best friend she’d ever had, texted step-by-step instructions about what she’d done last time. He also cautioned her.
The artifacts stopped working for Keys. They might not work for you. If they do... I wish you the best, Cam, I really do. But please remain on guard. There are whispers that Lazarus lives by stealing the lives of others. If he takes yours, nothing will save him from us. Nothing.
Whispers weren’t always true. For another moment of happiness? Worth the risk.
Even if she would only forget again.
Torin added: I love you, Cam. Come back to us. And maybe bring Viola with you. Or not. Yeah, probably not.
Viola. The keeper of Narcissism. She’d been a prisoner of Tartarus when the extra demons in the box had been handed out. She was annoying, irritating and, through no fault of her own, completely self-absorbed. She was also trapped in the Rod, as Cameo had been. As Lazarus still was.
She replied: I love you, too. I’ll find her. And if all goes according to plan, I WILL return...with a smile. AND Viola. Prepare yourself.
She knew him, knew he would laugh when he read it.
Another text came in, this one from Baden: I watched him. Lazarus is more a monster than I’ve ever been. This will not end well for you, Cameo. He will destroy you.
Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, not going to him would be worse. She would always wonder what she could have had.
She would have to do something. With or without the coin.
“What’s wrong?” Baden hadn’t heard Roar’s speech, and must have assumed the worst, considering her reaction. “Tell me before I lose control.”
“The hounds...they’re going to...they’re mine, all of them. My family. Now and always.” But they were Hades’s enemy, and Baden was Hades’s man; that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. If ever.
There had to be a way to coexist. There just had to be.
A flood of possessiveness...ferocity...filled her, her inner hellhound making itself known.
I will protect what’s mine—till my dying breath.
29
“I apologize for offending you. Be assured, it won’t happen again. Oh, and by the way. You’re a pussy.”
–Neeka, the Unwanted
A SHARP RAP at the door. Cameo stalked across the hotel room to welcome the delivery boy inside. The two-story suite was the best of the best, complete with luxuries that would make anyone joyous. Anyone but her. She saw only a means to an end. A way to get to Lazarus.
I’m coming for you...
There were two benefits a hotel such as this one provided for its wealthier guests. One, she could get anything she wanted or needed simply by picking up the phone, and two, privacy was a given. Even the maids couldn’t enter without her express permission.
She scanned the immediate area as she turned the knob—all weapons were hidden.
She waved the male inside. He wheeled the tray into the small kitchen and she began to hope the encounter would end without any exchange of words.
She should have known better. Good things rarely happened to her.
“Are you having a nice day, ma’am?”
Ma’am. That’s what I’ve become?
She could have nodded. She could have ignored him or pretended to be deaf. Three things she’d done in the past. Not exactly feeing charitable, she said, “Yes.”
That was it. One word. Tears began to pour from his eyes as if he’d sprung a leak.
Humans! Breakable little flowers, all of them. Besides the deaf human she’d once loved—the human who’d betrayed her to Hunters, nearly ending her life—the only beings who’d been able to spend any length of time with her were the demon-possessed immortals she lived with. But even with them, she had to limit what she said.
So many words were trapped inside her!
One day, those words would reach the tipping point and spew out—and the world would probably end as misery spread, suicides and homicides abounding.
The man wiped his eyes with a look of surprise. “I’m sorry. I have no idea what’s come over me.”
If ever he learned the truth, he would either die of a heart attack, or he’d crap his pants.
No time to bury the body, no desire to launder his clothing.
She escorted him to the door without saying a word. As he raced down the hall, embarrassed by his tears, she sealed herself inside the suite, only then relaxing enough to smell the creamy pasta and steamed vegetables. As a possible last meal it would be...adequate. But then, no food had ever tasted like anything more than powder to her. Except for chocolate, of course. That, she enjoyed, but she limited her intake because she needed something to look forward to and the more she indulged, the easier it would be for Misery to ruin it.
Except...this time, even the thought of chocolate caused warmth to spill through her. She tingled, she ached...with the ghost of a memory? Had Lazarus drizzled chocolate sauce over her entire body and licked her clean?
A girl could dream.
Excitement for the future filled her—and agonized Misery. The demon, in turn, did what he always did when she experienced anything other than sadness, reminding her of the biggest obstacle in her way.
No one could stand her for long. Why would Lazarus be any different?
Because he’s mine?
Her friends had overcome centuries of evil when they’d met their women. Without the box, without her freedom, going to Lazarus was the best—the only—way to succeed and find what the others had: someone to love.
Maybe. Was he even mate material?
Not knowing agonized her.
And, having no idea what she would face during her quest to find him, she had to keep her strength up; she ate every crumb, even as the food settled like lead balls in her stomach. When she finished, she entered the bedroom where she’d stored the three artifacts and Danika’s painting.
She took a minute to send a group text to her friends, telling them where she’d ended up. They needed to know where to find the artifacts when she was gone.
Don’t try to stop me. I have to do this. I’ll return if I can, but if I can’t, know that I’m doing my best to live the life I’ve always wanted.
The guys would give her an hour, maybe two, before they burst into the room. They worried for her safety far too much to wait much longer. They always had, even in the heavens.
Within seconds, everyone had texted her back with either curses or entreaties to be careful. Torin, the best friend she’d ever had, texted step-by-step instructions about what she’d done last time. He also cautioned her.
The artifacts stopped working for Keys. They might not work for you. If they do... I wish you the best, Cam, I really do. But please remain on guard. There are whispers that Lazarus lives by stealing the lives of others. If he takes yours, nothing will save him from us. Nothing.
Whispers weren’t always true. For another moment of happiness? Worth the risk.
Even if she would only forget again.
Torin added: I love you, Cam. Come back to us. And maybe bring Viola with you. Or not. Yeah, probably not.
Viola. The keeper of Narcissism. She’d been a prisoner of Tartarus when the extra demons in the box had been handed out. She was annoying, irritating and, through no fault of her own, completely self-absorbed. She was also trapped in the Rod, as Cameo had been. As Lazarus still was.
She replied: I love you, too. I’ll find her. And if all goes according to plan, I WILL return...with a smile. AND Viola. Prepare yourself.
She knew him, knew he would laugh when he read it.
Another text came in, this one from Baden: I watched him. Lazarus is more a monster than I’ve ever been. This will not end well for you, Cameo. He will destroy you.
Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, not going to him would be worse. She would always wonder what she could have had.
