Lydia's Secret (The Secret Series Book 1) (3 page)

Chapter Three

Lydia watched Roman from beneath lowered lashes. The icy road held his attention while the soft blue light reflecting off the dash caressed his face.

“What do you do, Mr. Castillo?”

“Please call me Roman. I work in personal security.”

“What, like a bodyguard?”

“More like home and self-defense. We teach you how to protect yourself when the police can’t do it for you.”

She turned to stare out the window, her gaze tracing over the lighted homes. “So how do you help?”

“We work for a single client or licensed investigators, security system installation, you name it. Whatever is required. One of my clients owns a pawn shop nearby. Someone was tampering with his security system. I had just left there when I saw you get dragged into that alley.”

“Were you the one that called the police?”

“There was no time. I’m not sure who did.”

She brought her attention back to the road. “Take a right, here.”

He made an expert turn, and she could see the pale yellow glow of Jacie’s lamp illuminating through her bedroom window. “I’m the red brick house.” Her home was the only one in the neighborhood with Christmas lights still up. Jacie loved them, and Lydia couldn’t bring herself to take them down.

He didn’t comment as he pulled into the driveway.

“Well, thank you for your help tonight.” She suddenly became nervous again.

“Wait.” He glanced around and shut off the SUV. “You have no porch light?”

“What are you doing?” She reached for the door handle.

“I’m seeing you inside.”

She had flashes of the dirty dishes she’d left in the sink that morning. “Really, Mr. Castillo, that won’t be necessary. I can make it from here.”

He narrowed his eyes and opened the door. Icy wind swept inside, stealing her breath. She got out and scrambled to the ground as he came around the vehicle “What are you—”

“There’s ice everywhere.” He steadied her when she would have fallen.

“Mr. Castillo—”

“Roman,” he corrected her, sweeping her up into his arms.

“What are you doing?”

His smoky glance made her stomach flip. “You must have bumped your head a little too hard. You’re repeating yourself.”

She could only hold onto him. For a moment, she relaxed into the warmth he offered.

The door opened, and Jeanie poked her head out. “Ms. Hughes?” The haphazardly mess of the woman’s hair was almost comical. “Well, hello.” Jeanie’s eyes lit up with interest. “Who is this?”

“Roman.” He nodded before turning the full power of his smile on her. Lydia watched the other woman melt in her furry boots. She could sympathize.

Sudden pressure rose in the back of Lydia’s head, and she stilled. Her vision grayed, and her eyes slid shut.

Darkness. Fire. Blood. She could taste death on the air. So cold. A figure strode from the flames, resembling Balor, God of Death. Everywhere she looked...they were all dead.

Moonlight glinted off the bloodstained metal of his blade. His breastplate gleamed red and gold from the fires of her village.

Her gaze drew up to the chilling green eyes of the man who’d come to her rescue. “Roman.” He smiled with demon’s fangs.

                            * * * * *

“Lydia?” His deep voice broke through her confusion.

“Roman,” she gasped. The man kneeling before her was different than the one from a moment ago. The changes were subtle—more lines in his face, shorter hair.
What the hell is wrong with me?

She put a hand to her head and glanced around. “I’m on the couch.”

“You fainted.” Jeanie sat beside her with a penlight in hand. “Mr. Castillo tells me you have a concussion.”

“I must have hit my head harder than I thought.”

“It doesn’t take much.” Jeanie touched her face. “Don’t move.” She did the same checks the medics had done.

Lydia wanted to shrug it off as nothing, but the strange images shook her. So did the way Roman watched her from his perch on the coffee table.

“Where’s Jacie?”

“She’s asleep in her room.” The other woman continued her examination.

“How was she today?”

“A little tired. We had to rest a few times.”

“Has she gotten any of her appetite back?” Lydia hated watching Jacie waste away to nothing.

Jeanie shook her head. “We wrote a letter today to Baltha about her birthday. I helped her with most of the spelling, but she is so proud of her writing.”

“Did she finally say what she wants? I’ve been trying to get her to tell me for weeks now.”

“You should read it.” Jeanie’s tone and the lack of expression caused dread to tighten in Lydia’s chest.

“Baltha?” Roman raised his eyebrows.

Lydia attempted a small smile. “Baltha was my grandmother’s cat. Jacie was pretty upset when the cat died, so Grandma told her Baltha went to live on the North Star and would always be her guardian angel. Jacie’s a true believer and even has a stuffed animal named Fangton, since the cat had slept with one just like it.”

She rose from the couch with Jeanie’s unnecessary help. “Where’s the letter?”

Roman stood also.

Jeanie was quick to respond. “It’s in her room. She just went to sleep, so you might want to wait a bit.”

Lydia nodded. “I’ll just check on her.”

“I’ll come with you.” Jeanie trailed behind her. “What happened tonight? Roman told me a little bit.”

They reached Jacie’s room, and Lydia placed her palm against the closed door. “Someone jumped me on the way home. Mr. Castillo came to my rescue, but I took a pretty bad fall and hit my head on the ice.” She was amazed at the calm way she touched on those memories. All the panic and fear from earlier was almost gone.
I must be tired.

Jeanie shivered and hugged herself. “Nowhere is safe anymore. Did he want your purse or something?”

“No. He wanted to...” She touched her neck where his tongue had licked the skin. A shudder ran through her.
“You smell incredible.”
The guy had said something else that she couldn’t remember. A wave of dizziness seized her.

“Are you okay?”

Lydia’s gaze sharpened as she shook off the memories. “Can we talk about this later?”

Jeanie pierced her with a professional look she usually reserved for Jacie. “Yes, but I’m staying with you tonight.”

Lydia’s mind immediately went to overtime cost. She could only afford insurance for one of them, and Jacie’s care took up all of their allotted hours. Her illness was more aggressive now, but they weren’t approved for more time yet. Every minute was needed for her daughter.

“I’ll be fine. It wasn’t my head that caused the dizziness, just the memory of the attack. You need to go home. The roads are getting terrible.” One little conk on the noggin wouldn’t bring her down.

“Lydia.”

She calmly turned Jeanie toward the living room and gave her a gentle push. “I’ll be fine. A storm’s coming, and you need to hurry.” Lydia slipped into Jacie’s room, quietly closing the door behind her before the woman could protest.

Lydia braced against the door for a moment, trying to get some kind of composure back. Where was the calm she’d somehow found between the alley and home?

She inhaled a slow breath and let it go, mimicking the pain management techniques she and Jacie had learned together. Her daughter didn’t need to see her come unhinged.

Jacie turned over in bed, and Lydia stepped slowly forward. The soft glow of the lamp reflected off Jacie’s little bald head, and Lydia’s heart flipped at the loss of her beautiful hair. She reached over and switched off the light. Jacie always kept it on if Lydia worked late.

“Mom?” Her voice was thick with sleep.

“Hey, honey.” Lydia sat on the edge of the bed. “How long have you been awake?”

“Off and on...” She hesitated a little too long.

“Were you listening to our conversation?”

Jacie’s expression was as solemn as a six-year old’s could ever be. Wide blue eyes stared at Lydia without blinking. “I’m not supposed to listen to grownup conversations.”

“That’s what they tell me.” Lydia leaned in really close so their noses almost touched. “You’re not fooling me for a minute.”

Jacie lost the cherub innocence instantly and mischief danced in her eyes. Her smile pushed away the darkness, the weird dizziness. Everything.

“Sorry I was late, kiddo.” Lydia dropped a light kiss on her nose.

“Somebody hurt you? Did you get Band-Aids?”

“Nope. No Band-Aids. No cool stickers either. Not even a lollipop.”

Jacie made a face of disgust. “No lollipops?”

“Nope. I got to see a police officer though.”

The little girl grinned. “Did he pull his gun on you?”

Lydia ran her hand along her daughter’s forehead. She was cooler than she’d like. “No such luck. Turns out I wasn’t the bad guy.”

Jacie’s sigh broke into a jaw-popping yawn before she jerked her arms out and slammed them on top of the blanket.

Lydia drew the covers up to her chin. “It’s time for you to go to sleep, baby.”

“I’m really not—” Another yawn stole the end of her sentence.

“Me either. But I’m supposed to rest and so are you.”

“Okay.” Jacie reached under the covers and pulled out her stuffed bat. “Say goodnight to Fangton.”

Lydia gave the stuffed animal’s fluffy black nose a loud kiss.

Jacie held her little arms up, and Lydia wrapped her in a hug before tucking her back in.

“I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, kiddo. Get some shut-eye.” Experience told her Jacie wouldn’t sleep until she left the room. She’d always been that way.

“Oh, wait. My letter to Baltha is on the desk. You have to mail it tomorrow, okay?”

“Will do.” Lydia gave a two-fingered salute and grabbed the sealed envelope on her way out. Jacie’s eyes were closed by the time she turned back around.

“Good night, kiddo.” She quietly exited the room, easing the door shut behind her.

Her fingers traced the meticulously drawn address on the envelope.
Baltha.
North Star
. She folded it up and stuck it in her pocket to look at later when she was alone.

Lydia trailed back into the living room in time to see Jeanie wrapping a scarf around her neck as Roman towered over her slight frame, holding out her jacket.

“You were right about the storm. I’m not going to make it if I don’t leave now.” Jeanie shrugged into the coat and gave a half nod to Roman. “Every hour.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Every hour what?” Lydia was relieved Jeanie wasn’t pushing to stay. Even if Lydia could afford it, the last thing she wanted was the constant feeling of being watched on top of everything else that had happened earlier.

Jeanie glanced at her. “You have to be woken up periodically when you sleep.”

Lydia gaped at Roman. She was about to argue before that blessed warmth once again invaded her mind, calming her thoughts.

The brunette continued. “He’s too far away from his home to make it before the storm hits. Look outside. The snow is dropping in massive clumps. And you won’t let me stay.” She headed toward the door, and Lydia reached it in time to open it for her.

Jeanie tugged on her gloves and pulled on her beanie cap. “See you soon.”

Wind and snow pelted them as Lydia opened the door. The frigid air stealing into the room stole her breath.

“I’ll call if I get snowed in.” Jeanie waved, maneuvering her way down the driveway to her little beat-up car sitting next to the street. Lydia waited until she saw Jeanie’s headlights come on before closing the door.

She engaged the lock and turned to her last-minute guest. Roman leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, still wearing his coat. Her gaze traveled down to his socked feet and back up. His face was smudged and his clothes were stained from the fight in the alley. She doubted she had anything in storage that would fit him. He looked so at ease in her home.

* * * * *

Simon held the scarf against his face, savoring the scent of her skin lingering in the cloth.
Lydia

Snow and wind fought a war in the streets below as he perched on a nearby roof, nestled in a wind break. The weather was only a minor inconvenience.

People rushed home despite the icy roads, and metal crunched in the distance from a fender bender, leaving voices raised in fury. He didn’t care. He was focused intently on the little house with Christmas lights and the warm glow of a lamp coming from one of the rooms.

The silhouette of a man walked past a window, and Simon’s lip curled over a fang.
Roman.
Bitterness roiled through his mind, and the demon of bloodlust rose from the depths of his soul.

No other man’s scent had been on Lydia’s skin. His mouth curved into a smile. He wouldn’t stop until she belonged to him.