The Guardian (4 page)

the wal . Now she was ready for him and she would renew their battle whenever he returned.

* * *

Seth paused at Solin’s bel igerent tone. So that was the woman’s name.

Lydia. It was pretty … like a song. But he wasn’t a poet.

He was death, and she was nothing but a pawn to get what he needed. Narrowing his gaze, he went to

the table that held Solin in place by chains. Al too wel , he knew how much it hurt to be pinned that way.

How humiliating. There was no worse feeling than to be at the mercy of someone else and to not be able

to fight back or even protect yourself. To lay there with no clue as to when the next round of torture would

begin.

To have no dignity.

No hope of escape …

Deep inside, a part of him felt sorry for Solin.

Don’t you dare!
his mind snarled at him. It was that very thing that had gotten him punished to begin with.

And if he didn’t get what he needed, he would be there again.

No one ever came for you
. He must never forget that. No one had ever tried to help him. He’d never had

a single ounce of compassion from anyone.

Not even his own mother. The memory of her brutality was as fresh today as it’d been when he was child,

cursing her for intentional y leaving him to die.

Unprotected.

Alone.

But Lydia had come for Solin. She’d risked her life trying to help him. Jealousy plowed through his heart.

What about Solin was so special and deserving that he warranted such concern and loyalty? Such personal

sacrifice?

How dare you proclaim that pathetic backwash as my divine offspring! How dare you name him after

me, you bitch! You both sicken me. Get it out of my sight before I gut you both.
Those had been the last

words his father had said to him. It was what everyone since had seen him as. Nothing but worthless

garbage to be used and discarded.

Walked over.

And that set fire to his temper.

He closed the distance between them and grabbed Solin by the hair. His nostrils flaring, he forced Solin

to meet his gaze. “Tel me what I want to know or I’l kil her.”

Solin looked down at the blood on Seth’s armor. “How do I know you haven’t already?”

Seth sneered at the question. It was his own blood staining his armor, not Lydia’s. Blood brutal y taken

from him because he had yet to break the Greek.

Only Solin had the ability to end Seth’s suffering and the stubborn bastard wouldn’t. Damn him for it.

So he tormented the Greek in turn—not nearly as badly as Noir had him, but enough to make Seth feel

better. “What would be the fun in that? It’s more torturous for you to know that I have her at my disposal. I can

do anything I want with her and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. Nothing.”

Solin exploded into a string of profanity so foul, it was a wonder his mouth didn’t spontaneously combust.

Seth tightened his hand in Solin’s hair. “If you want her safe, tel me where the key is.”

“I don’t know.”

“Bul shit! I know for a fact that you’re the only one who has access to it.”

Solin shook his head in denial.

Seth wanted to crush his skul . Noir was growing more impatient by the heartbeat. If Solin didn’t break

soon, Noir would return him to his hole and bolt his mouth shut again.

This time, it would be permanent and he’d never be granted another reprieve from it.

May the gods help Solin then. Noir would never take the pity on him that Seth had. As badly as the idiot

thought he was suffering now, it was a walk in paradise compared to what was coming for him.

He knew from personal experience that the worst place to be was between Noir and whatever it was Noir

wanted.

C’mon, you stupid bastard. Give me what I need to save us all
. “One word from you and I’l let you both

go.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not the word I wanted.” Growling, Seth released him. This was the same as it’d been for two weeks now.

And he was through with being Noir’s scapegoat. With being blamed and punished for Solin’s obstinacy.

Given what they were doing to him, he might as wel be pinned to the table beside Solin.

But no more.

“Fine. I’l go question Lydia. Let’s see what she knows.”

Solin let out a scream so loud and pain-fil ed that it had to come from the deepest part of his soul. “Don’t

you hurt her. Don’t you dare! I’l get you whatever it is you want if you’l release her.”

For once he believed him. The emotion in Solin’s voice and eyes was too real to be faked, and that

scream …

It was one born of desperate love. Seth had absolutely no concept of that word. But he’d seen mothers

who had died protecting their young. Of men who sacrificed themselves for friends, family, and women.

Did Lydia real y mean
that
much to Solin?

“Would you give me your life for hers?”

Solin didn’t hesitate with his answer. “Yes.”

Fascinating. What could make a god want to die to keep another safe? “Do you think she’d do the same

for you?”

“She came for me.”

Those words stung him. Solin was right. She’d risked everything to try and rescue the dream god. “You

love her?”

Solin didn’t answer. Rather he did the one thing he’d never done throughout any of his torture.

He begged. “Please, please don’t hurt her. I swear if you keep her safe, I wil bring the key to you and put

it in your hands.”

Relief coursed through him as he final y heard the words that would save his ass and spare him more

degradation.

Provided Solin wasn’t lying to him. Did Lydia real y mean so much?

Trust was not in his nature. Whenever he’d made that mistake, the repercussions had been shoved down

his throat and stomped into his stomach. The only thing he had faith in was other people’s wil ingness to lie

and screw him over.

But in this, he had no choice. He had to have that damn key. Sooner rather than later.

He glared at Solin. “You have three days to return. If I don’t have the key then, I’l send you her remains.”

Stepping back, Seth snapped his fingers.

The chains melted away.

Solin lay there, panting and weak. Just like he’d done when Noir had final y freed him. A part of him was

remorseful for his part in it. He hated to see someone else in pain. But better it be Solin than him. At least

he hadn’t bolted Solin’s mouth shut. He rubbed the back of his hand under his chin as a phantom pain

reminded him of how much that had hurt. Nor had he violated the private parts of Solin’s body. The stupid

bastard thought he knew what torture was. He had no idea how gentle Seth had been compared to the

others who cal ed this hel home.

Solin should be down on his knees in gratitude.

Seth held his hand out and returned Solin’s clothes to him. “Three days, Olympian. Do not fail me.” Then

he used his powers to send Solin back to the mortal realm he’d stolen him from.

How he wished he could go with him. But Noir had taken his ability to leave the moment he first brought

him here. He could only pul others out of the human realm or return them.

Never himself.

But right now, that didn’t matter.

Seth let out a relieved breath at the thought of handing the key of Olympus to Noir. It would make his

overlord happy. Or at least as happy as the miserable son of a bitch could be.

Maybe then he’d be forgiven and al owed to remain without chains.

And with luck, Solin would be back in a few hours.

In the meantime, he wanted to understand what about the woman was so special that a god like Solin

would give his life for her.

Was Solin out of his mind for putting her safety above his own? People lied and they betrayed. Especial y

where love was involved. It was only a tool the strong used against the weak.

He knew that better than anyone.

I love you.
He sneered at the thought. Cheap, meaningless words bandied about by selfish asses

incapable of understanding the meaning of it.

Lydia was just like al the others. She would turn on Solin.

And he would do the god a favor.

He would prove it.

When he returned to his room, Seth expected to find the woman alert and crouched, ready to tear into him

again. Instead, she sat in the corner with her arms crossed over her knees and her head lying atop her

forearms. The soft, gentle snore let him know that she was sound asleep.

How could that be?

He hadn’t been able to do more than nap since he’d been freed. And even those came in very short

spurts. Spurts where he jerked awake at the slightest sound or merest stirring in the air. Real or imagined.

Yet here she was in the middle of enemy territory, and …

She slept.

Deeply.

You’re such a fool
.

Most of al , she was a curiosity wrapped by enigma and contradiction. Why? Why would she risk her life

and body for someone else? Why would she come here?

Real y?

Before he even realized what he was doing, he’d closed the distance between them and knelt on the floor

by her side. His armor creaked ever so slightly from his movement. Her long black hair spil ed around her

shoulders and legs, forming a shining weblike mantle. In that position, she looked even more frail and tiny

than she had before … Like a little dark rose on his floor. And she smel ed like beauty. Most demons had an

odor to them, but not her.

She smel ed like the summer sunshine he hadn’t seen since he was a boy … back in the days when he’d

believed in beauty and decency. When he’d looked forward to a future he’d stupidly believed would be

bright.

Back before his innocence had been so violently torn from him, and then thrown in his face.

Hesitant, but too curious to stop, he touched a lock of her hair that dangled by her side. The softness of

that one fat curl startled him. It was like touching a rose petal. At least this was what he remembered them

feeling like.

Slowly, he lifted it to his nose so that he could breathe in the pleasant, sweet smel that seemed to be a

part of her. Oh yeah … It made him think of a home he’d never known or had.

He closed his eyes to savor the scent as it ran through his blood like fire. Against his wil , his thoughts

turned to what she might look like naked. How she’d feel beneath him as he tasted her tanned skin and took

her.

No, better yet, on top of him. Yeah, that was the image he coveted. With this soft hair tickling his skin

while she rode him like no one ever had before. Slow and tender. With gentle kisses that didn’t draw blood.

Like he meant something to her.

Don’t be stupid. Since when did you become an old woman?
Sex was sex. It was a meaningless

animalistic act that the body needed from time to time. Only an absolute imbecile would drag emotion into it.

And since when was sex ever tender? Especial y for something as disgusting as he was? Hel , he was

lucky any female would lower herself to screw him.

Lydia would never do so.

That thought stung deep. But it was true. The first thing he’d done after his strength came back was find a

demon lover to sate what he’d missed most—the only pleasure Noir hadn’t taken from him. He’d needed

release in the worst sort of way. But the she-demon’s pale gray skin had been cold and dry, her touch rough

and demanding as she’d clawed and bit him until he bled. She’d even knocked loose some of his teeth.

And her hair had been rough and brittle. Nothing like the warm softness of his little flower.

Open your eyes,
sšn.

As if she heard his innermost wish, she let out a low sigh and rubbed her cheek against her folded arms.

She blinked once, then jerked as she realized he was right beside her. She immediately scooted away from

him with panic in her topaz eyes. To his dismay, her actions caused her hair to fal out of his grasp. Her

entire body tensed for battle, as if she expected him to break into violence for no reason whatsoever.

“I…” he caught himself before he promised not to hurt her. He refused to give her that power.

Better to be feared. Always.

So instead, he moved to confront her.

Lydia pushed herself up after he rose only to realize it didn’t real y matter. He stil towered over her and

made her feel as if she’d fit into his pocket. May the gods help her if he did turn violent. It wouldn’t be much

of a fight on her part. She’d already done her best and stabbed him, and he’d pinned her so fast and easily

that it stil staggered her. But she would fight. So long as she breathed, she wouldn’t give in without one.

That being said, he made no moves toward her at al .

She stared at the demon, wishing she had some way to question him. If only she had her powers. Then

she could send out her thoughts.

As it was …

Her best action remained staring her hatred in his general direction.

She tried signing to him again. But al that did was cause him to frown. Something made twice as sinister

by the black and red lines on his white face.

“Is that how you speak?” he asked her.

She nodded.

He cursed under his breath.

Using Charade movements instead of sign language, she tried to tel him that if he could return some of

her powers, she’d be able to talk to him.

His frown deepened. “What? The ceiling? What about it?”