The Guardian

Chapter 3

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 all, 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?
Really?
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 spilled 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 smelled like beauty. Most demons had an odor to them, but not her.
She smelled 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 smell 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 will, 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? Especially for something as disgusting as he was? Hell, 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 fall 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 really matter. He still 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 still 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 all.
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 all 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 tell 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?"
She let out a frustrated breath and tried to think of another way to illustrate her powers. She waved her arms around like smoke.
He grimaced in distaste. "This is annoying."
The demon had no idea.
She stopped as she tried to think of something else to try. There had to be a way she could write ...
Before she could blink, he manifested in front of her. The sheer size of him, and shock at his sudden appearance in her face, made her gasp. At a distance, he'd been fierce. Up close like this, she could literally feel his powers. They were like an electrical current in the air that made the hair on the back of her neck rise.
He absolutely dwarfed her and it wasn't due to the armor bulking him up. He was this large.
Those blue eyes scorched her with a coldness so frigid, it was a wonder she didn't have frostbite.
In the next heartbeat, he wrapped one well-muscled arm around her and pulled her into his arms. His eyes glittered an instant before he lowered his lips to hers.
For the merest nanosecond, she was stunned by the warm softness of his lips. The gentleness of his embrace as he swept his tongue against hers in the sweetest kiss she'd ever known.
Until she remembered he was a demon who'd been torturing Solin. Her fury igniting, she bit his lip with everything she had.
He pulled back with a curse.
"You bastard!" Lydia froze, wide-eyed, as those words flew out of her mouth instead of the empty breath she normally spoke. Shocked, she clamped her hands over her lips and throat.
Had that really been her? Was that what her voice would sound like? It was alien and foreign, and ...
Unbelievable.
The demon's eyes turned deadly as he wiped the blood away from his lips with the back of his hand. "You're lucky I don't kill you for that."
But that wasn't her greatest concern. What had he done to her? How could he have given her a voice when no one else had been able to do it?
No one.
Not even Solin.
With a sinister snarl curling his upper lip, he licked the area where she'd bitten him. "You can speak now."
"How?" The sound of her own voice made her jump.
He rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip, then grimaced at the pad that was coated red from his still-bleeding wound. It matched the red lines bisecting his face. "I have all kinds of powers. That's just one of them."
"Is that why you kissed me?"
His gaze turned even more glacial. "Not at all. I had yet to have my lip busted open today so I thought I'd better see to it. Thank you so much for being kind enough to oblige me."
His sarcastic humor caught her off guard. For a moment, she didn't see him as a terrifying demon. He almost seemed ...
Human.
Disturbed by that thought, she looked around nervously. "What other powers do you have?"
Her question brought the scary right back to him-with interest. When he spoke, he growled out his words like the demon he appeared to be. "Pray you never find out."
Fine. If he wanted to play that game ...
"Why did you bring me here?"
His gaze drifted in the direction of the bed.
Heat scorched her cheeks. "You can forget it. Unless you're into necrophilia, it ain't ever gonna happen."
"Necrophilia?"
She steeled herself for the probability of his attack. "I'd kill myself before I let you touch me."
Seth went completely still at those words as they struck him harder than a blow and took him straight into the past. You rotten piece of filth, you're beneath me. She didn't say that, but her tone and indignation implied it. Suddenly, he was a young man again, being laughed at for his ineptitude.
Rebuffed.
Humiliated.
Not good enough even to keep.
He felt now, just as he'd done then. Raw and sore from a truth he couldn't help. He hadn't asked to be born, and he damn sure hadn't asked to be immortal. He'd tried to be decent. Once. And what had it gotten him?
Tortured for centuries.
His anger ignited and it took everything he had not to strike her and knock her from that gilded pedestal where she looked down her patrician nose at him.
But the one truth he knew better than anyone-the truth that had been spoon-fed to him until he'd gagged on it-was that words were far more painful than physical strikes. They were always what lingered long after the cuts healed and the bruises faded.
Verbal blows cut to the soul and ate at the heart for eternity.
"Don't flatter yourself, woman." He raked a sneer over her body. "I'd rather masturbate with flea-infested sandpaper than touch you."
Lydia was momentarily stunned by his crude and vivid insult. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. "Then why am I here?" Nothing else made sense.
He answered her question with one of his own. "Why did you come for Solin?"
Why did he think? "Because he was in trouble and he needed someone to help him."
"You would risk your life for him?"
She scoffed at his ridiculous question. "I think that answer is obvious. I'm here, aren't I?"
That seemed to confuse him all the more. "But why?"
"Why what?"
His scowl deepened even more. "Why would you risk your life to protect his?"
She realized that he honestly had no concept of what she was talking about. It was as if they were speaking entirely different languages again. "Is there no one you protect?"
Proud, he straightened his stance. "Myself."
"And..."
Vivid emotions played across his features. Surprise, thoughtfulness, shock, and finally he just looked even more confused. "No one. Sentient creatures are treacherous at best, cruel at worst. None are worth a drop of my blood or sweat."
Well. That was that, then.
He was a demon, through and through. No soul. No ability to value or love anyone except himself. Why would she expect anything else here? "Then that tells me all I need to know about you, doesn't it?"
He arched a thick painted black brow. "What does it tell you?"
"That you're a bastard."
He didn't smile, but she could tell that insult bitterly amused him. "Aren't we all?"
"No." She lowered her voice into an adamant tone. "No, we're not. Not by a longshot."
He curled his lips into a sinister sneer that had probably given countless people nightmares or strokes. "Then you're a fool. Solin has already left you. He didn't even look back for you when I freed him."
Yeah, right. She knew better. "You're lying to me."
He held his hands up to form a mist. There in the middle of it, she saw the room Solin had been in. A room that was now completely empty. "You see? He's gone and yet you remain, even though he knows I'll most likely torture and kill you for being here."
The demon was lying about her ... She refused to finish that thought in case he was in her head. Solin would never do such a thing. She knew that for a fact. "Then he had a good reason for leaving me."
"Yes, he traded your freedom for his."
She shook her head in denial. "I don't believe you. Not a single word and not for a single nanosecond." And she didn't, even though her animal instincts said he was telling her the truth. She had faith in Solin.
She would always have faith in him.
Seth was amazed by her steadfastness to someone he was sure didn't deserve it. The only thing he held that much belief in was the willingness of others to hurt or sacrifice him for their own whims, personal gains, and pleasures.
How could anyone her age be so stupid and blind?
Suddenly, he heard Noir calling for him. But for her presence, he'd wince. He knew what his overlord wanted and he knew how the bastard would react when he disappointed him with his report.
Again.
This was going to leave a mark ...
But he had no choice. To make Noir wait would only worsen his punishment.
Sighing in resignation, he manifested food for the woman on top of his desk. There was no point in making her starve when he didn't know how long he'd be gone this time.
His gut tightened into a knot that choked him. Not from fear, but dread.
"I'll return."
Lydia started to ask where he was going, but he left too quickly.
Grateful for his absence, she tried again to find some way out of here. There were no windows. No closet. Just this one room and nothing else. How weird ...
"What do I do when I have to go to the bathroom?"
Not that she had to right now, but ...
A loud swoosh behind her made her jump sideways. She turned around to see a door in the wall. Her heart pounding, she ran to it, hoping it led to a hallway.
What was there actually startled her more. It was a huge, gleaming bathroom with a marble steam shower and a claw-foot tub. The bright decadence seemed out of place with the austerity of the bedroom. Obviously this was where the vain bastard spoiled himself.
She rocked the door back and forth as she considered its appearance. Was that how things worked here? You asked and ... "I want to leave."
Nothing happened.
C'mon. Don't do this to me. You know you want to let me out of here. She tried again. "Where do I leave? What do I do when I have to leave?" Maybe the key was in the phrasing.
But again she was disappointed when no door appeared.
You didn't really think it would be that easy, did you?
A jackal could hope.
Speaking of which, she tried to turn into one. But even that innate ability was taken from her. She was as good as human.
How horrible. Not that being human was bad, but she didn't like the feeling of vulnerability. She liked having her powers. All she had left right now were her heightened senses.
At least you have something.
Oh, goodie. Lucky me! Maybe tomorrow I'll win Shirley Jackson's Lottery.
Yeah, that would be her luck.
"But I do have a voice now." She couldn't resist saying that out loud. It was so strange to be able to speak after a lifetime of silence.
The last time she'd spoken ...
She flinched at the horror that had cost her her voice. Her mother had stolen it from her to keep her safe. In the end, she wished her mother had let her scream and die with the rest of them.
It would have been a far kinder fate. Especially if the demon did to her what he'd done to Solin.
Wanting distraction from the past that hurt too much to even contemplate, and the future that wasn't looking any better, she returned to the bedroom, where the warm pleasant scent of food beckoned her to the desk.
She pulled back the ornate silver lid to find a strange assortment. Fried bananas? Ironically, she loved them. Could he have picked that out of her brain? That thought actually scared her. She didn't like the idea of anyone reading her thoughts.
The other dishes made a little more sense-pastries and some kind of fried meat pie. There was also an abundance of fresh fruit and wine. Enough to probably feed her for days.
It all looked scrumptious, which begged one question. "Is it poisoned?"
With a demon, there was no telling. Though to be honest, if he wanted her dead, he certainly didn't have to resort to that. He could most likely kill her with his thoughts. And definitely with his hands.
Surely the food was safe.
Taking the empty plate, she filled it, then sat down to eat in the lair of her enemy.
* * *
"Well?"
Seth despised that one word with a furious passion. It ranked right up there with eye-gouging, gutting, and castration.
He wasn't afraid of Noir. Merely, he knew what the bastard was going to do to him when he answered, and he dreaded the coming pain.
Just don't geld me ... Sex was the only source of remote pleasure he could have here. Sadly, he'd hate to lose it.
"I'm close, my lord."
Noir hissed like a snake that was gearing up to strike. "Close? Is that not what you told me two days ago?"
No, I told you to leave me alone to question him, King Moron, and you sent me on so many effing errands that I haven't had more than an hour to question him in over forty-eight hours.
Seth ground his teeth to keep from saying those words that would have him castrated. He forced himself to keep his gaze trained on the floor at Noir's feet. If he looked up, Noir might pluck his eyes out. But what he really wanted to do was beat the shit out of him.
If only he could. Without his powers, he wouldn't get in a single punch before Noir would have him pinned. And because he'd tried that enough times, he knew exactly the punishment for that particular stupidity.
"I have finally found a way to break him. I will have it for you very soon."
Instead of placating Noir, it sent him off into a homicidal rage. "Tell me truthfully, does it hurt to be that stupid? I just have to know. Really? I would think by now you'd have learned what I do to failures."
Seth braced himself as pain exploded throughout his entire being and his armor vanished. As soon as he was naked, Noir blasted him through the stone wall behind him. He landed in a painful heap on the floor where he tried to catch his breath, but it was impossible to breathe through the throbbing agony. Noir rapidly closed the distance between them and pulled him up by his throat, choking him in an iron grip. There was no missing the evil gleam in Noir's eyes that said this wasn't about punishment.
It was all about pleasure.
Yeah, it's going to be a really long night.