The Guardian (3 page)

BOOK: The Guardian
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Yeah, right … It was like trying to find a way to harness a hurricane. And while he was calm right now, she

had the distinct impression that he could explode into violence with no more provocation than her arching

her brow in a way he didn’t like.

His straight dark auburn hair was severely pul ed back from his face, exposing a widow’s peak on his

forehead, and held in a smal ponytail at the crown of his head. That hair wasn’t one single shade of red, but

rather the individual strands were everything from blond to mahogany, to chestnut, to black. Somehow they

came together to give the impression of hair the color of dried blood.

Wel over six feet in height, he was the most intimidating wet-your-pants-’cause-he’s-going-to-suck-out-

my-soul-and-eat-it thing she’d ever seen. And when you took into account the fact that she could surf

everyone’s nightmares, that said it al .

His entire face was painted white with sharp, angular red and black lines drawn over it in a way that

reminded her of a fierce Kabuki warrior. Then again, given that he was a demon, that might not be paint. It

could very wel be his skin. The red lines were drawn in such a way as to give the impression of a

permanent, sinister sneer and frown. His eyes were ringed by black that went down the side of his nose to

form a sharp point right at the tip. Likewise, the black went up from the corner of his eye to his hairline. The

dark color only emphasized how pale, cold, and merciless those steel blue eyes were.

Soul ess. There was nothing in them except the promise of a brutal death and a pain so profound that

those eyes alone would traumatize anyone with an ounce of self-preservation.

Given his massive size, he would have been intimidating on his worst day. Couple that with the burgundy-

and-gold spiked armor caked in blood, and the real snarl on his face, and he would send the devil himself to

the nearest corner to cower.

Help me …

Lydia wanted to take a step back from him, but the wal was right there, stopping her. She had no retreat.

The only way out was through
him.

Yeah, that ain’t gonna happen. Not even a Mack truck would be able to move him.
It would be like trying

to run down Godzil a. She let her breath out slowly, waiting for him to attack.

“Don’t you dare hurt her!” Solin growled from where he was chained down on the table. “I swear to the

gods, I’l gut you from asshole to appetite if you so much as breathe on her.”

That succeeded in making one of the demon’s finely arched brows shoot up into a mocking expression.

“We’ve already ascertained that there’s nothing you can do, except stain my armor with your blood.” He

turned that brutal steel gaze back to her. “Who and what are you?”

Dead
would be the most obvious answer.
Just let it be quick
. She didn’t want to linger in misery. Not for

anything.

And everything about the demon said he would enjoy watching her suffer.

He started forward as if to attack her. “Answer me, damn you!”

Who would have thought he could get any scarier?

She’d rather face Freddy Krueger thirty minutes after she’d swal owed three sleeping pil s than confront

this overwhelming mountain of demon power.

Lydia gripped her dagger hard in her hand and pressed herself against the wal , trying to teleport out.

She couldn’t.

I’m trapped
. Something blocked her powers and held her here like an insect trapped inside a science jar.

The demon was almost on her. “Speak, woman,” he growled low. “Now!”

“She can’t.”

Solin’s words brought him to an abrupt stop. He narrowed his gaze on Solin’s bleeding body. “Explain.”

“She’s mute.”

The demon twisted his lips into a mocking smirk. “You lie.”

“I have no need to lie. She’s never been able to say a single word, so you can’t torture her for anything

useful. Not unless you can read minds or sign language.”

Seth paused to consider the veracity of Solin’s words. Was he lying?

Why would he?

Why not? It was what people did. Many times for no reason whatsoever, and any time they thought they

were under assault and wanted to protect their own worthless asses. If he knew nothing else about humanity

and the gods, he knew that one simple fact.

No one could be trusted. Ever.

Stil , he was curious about her presence. Why would anyone in their right mind come to this forsaken hel

realm?

There was only one reasonable explanation he could think of …

“What is she to you, dream god?”

Solin refused to look at her. Instead, he glared at Seth with a strength of spirit that would garner respect if

Seth was capable of giving such to another. “Nothing. Just a Dream-Hunter sent in to rescue me.”

This time he knew Solin lied. And he was through bleeding and suffering because of the bastard’s

steadfast refusal to give him what he needed to free them both. Rage ripped through him as he turned and

went to final y kil the imbecile once and for al .

Little did Solin know, this would be a mercy kil ing.

As he raised his sword to remove Solin’s head, the frightened little mouse launched herself at him with

everything she had. The weight of her smal body slammed into his with more force than he would have

thought her capable of. Grabbing his wrist, she actual y tried to disarm him. When that failed, she stabbed

him in the arm so deep, she buried the dagger’s blade in al the way to the hilt.

Seth would have mocked her for the assault had he not been so stunned. No one had had the bal s to

openly attack him when he was unfettered since before his confinement.

What the hel ?

She punched his throat—something that would have worked on anyone else. But too many centuries of

being tortured had numbed him to physical pain.

Curling his lip, he raised his arm to backhand her.

“Don’t you dare!” Solin strained so hard against his chains that every muscle in his body bulged.

Seth frowned at the dream god’s violent reaction. Solin hadn’t fought like that in weeks. If sheer strength

of wil could sever chains, Solin would have easily broken free.

He’d been right with his assessment. The woman meant something to Solin …

No, he realized as he saw the murderous rage in Solin’s eyes while the god cursed Seth’s being and

parentage. She meant
everything
to him.

This is priceless.

Seth grabbed her hands, spun her around in his arms, and pinned her against his body so that she faced

Solin. Furious, she fought him like a lioness protecting her pride.

Interesting …

Solin broke off into a string of more profanity as he tried even harder to reach them.

Very
interesting.

He was wil ing to die to protect her.

I finally found the key
. She was the tool to break Solin once and for al . The gods had final y taken mercy

on him and thrown him a bone. A slow smile curved his lips.

Until she slammed her head into his jaw with enough impact that it flashed him back to his centuries of

torture. It took everything he had not to break her in half. In that one moment, al he could taste was her

blood. It was al he wanted.

Kill her and Solin is useless. He’ll never talk then
.

That knowledge was the only thing that saved her life. But she wouldn’t be breathing much longer if she

kept this up. In fact, his control slipped even more as she sank her teeth into his hand and bit him until he

bled.

Flashing them out of the interrogation hole, he took her to his room. There, he flung her away from him.

She twirled about twice before she caught herself. Her black hair settled down around her shoulders into

a silken mantle as she fel into a crouch like some deadly predator about to go for his throat.

He glared at her. “Don’t.”

Lydia froze at that one word that promised her an excruciating death if she disobeyed. Stil , she remained

in position, ready to attack if he took even one single step toward her.

His cold gaze held hers prisoner as he reached to his arm and jerked her dagger free of the wound she’d

given him. She’d been able to drive it between the armor plates and knew from the blood on her own hands

that she’d succeeded in wounding the beast.

But other than the bloody dagger he dropped to the floor, he showed no sign of it. He didn’t even grimace

from the pain. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it.

I am so screwed.

Who was he?

What
was he?

He wiped the blood on his hand across his armored breastplate as if it were nothing. It left an ominous,

bright red smear that didn’t quite blend in with the burgundy. “You can’t kil me, Greek. Al you can do is piss

me off. I suggest, if you want to keep breathing, you don’t do that.”

Forget screwed. This went so far beyond that it wasn’t even measurable. This was screwed on steroids.

What am I going to do?

Die, no doubt.
But not without one hel of a fight.

Seth saw the sanity return to her eyes. Feline topaz eyes that literal y glowed with her intrepid spirit. He’d

never seen anything like them. And they were what had told him Solin was a liar. The Greek Dream-Hunters,

those who protected sleepers from nightmares and other predators of the unconscious, al had vivid blue

eyes.

Never had he seen eyes akin to hers.

“Can you speak?” He wanted to know if Solin had lied about that as wel .

She shook her head slowly.

At least she could understand him. That was something. Not much, but something.

She started moving her hands in a graceful dance. It was beautiful to watch. And it took him a minute to

realize it was her language.

“I don’t understand you.”

This time she flicked her nails at him. That gesture of obscenity, he got. “Back at you.”

Now she moved her hands rapidly and with obvious anger. No doubt she was cursing him as much as

Solin had.

Damn, she was beautiful. Not in a classic, perfect way, like a goddess or demon. Her eyes were too large

for her oval face. So much so, they almost overwhelmed it. And her nails were ragged as if she chewed on

them from a nervous habit.

But her lips …

Plump, ful , and bright pink, they were perfection. The merest thought of them, stirred his body into total

rebel ion. It made him ache to possess the very thing he should be kil ing.

No wonder Solin was so protective of her. If she was his woman, he’d kil anyone who came near her, too.

How could you not? It was a primal instinct to protect the things that mattered to you.

Not in your case.

True. He was an animal who cared for nothing except himself. It was al he knew. He didn’t live life. He

endured it. Noir had driven that point home and nothing would ever dislodge it again. His entire existence

was basic survival. There was no higher functioning in his mind. None. He did what he was told.

He had no other choice.

And right now, he had a god to break.

“You wil stay here,” he told the woman. Then he returned to question Solin for what would hopeful y be the

last time.

* * *

Lydia stopped moving as she found herself alone. Where was the demon?

More to the point, where was she?

Like the rest of the realm she’d been in, the room was dark, with the only light coming from that eerie blue

tubing on the ceiling that strangely reminded her of blood. A damp chil clung to the air, making the place

even more depressing.

The strangest part though, was the absence of a door. Not a single trace of one. Nor a window either.

She walked around the room, double checking. Sure enough. The only way in or out was teleportation.

Something she stil couldn’t do.

Damn it!

Trapped, she saw a large canopied bed in the far corner. Fur blankets were draped over it, but it didn’t

appear to be slept in. In fact, it had a layer of dust over it. The wal s were the same damp stone that made

up the hal ways she’d been down.

There was a fireplace, but no fire to chase away the deep chil in the room that cut al the way to her

bones. Next to that was a large, extremely neat, Baroque wood desk. A laptop, of al weird things, rested on

top of it. That was the only personal item in the room.

Curious, she walked over to it, intending to turn it on. But the instant she touched it, the top slammed

down, barely missing her fingers.

What the devil?

She tried to open it, but it refused. It was as if the thing was alive and knew she wasn’t supposed to use it.

Yeah …

But at least she wasn’t being tortured.

Yet.

What am I going to do?

Pick up her dagger, which she did, and wait. She grimaced at the amount of blood on it. It looked like

she’d hit an artery. And he hadn’t even reacted to her stab. Obviously, he was an immortal. One who liked to

be in pain.

I am so dead.

What else would he do with her, other than kil her?

The obvious answer to that terrified her even more than the thought of dying.
I won’t be raped
. She might

not be able to kil him, but she could geld him and that she would definitely do if he laid a hand on her.

With that thought foremost in her mind, she went to the corner and sat on the floor with her back against

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