The Guardian (6 page)

closed the distance between them and pul ed 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 al about pleasure.

Yeah, it’s going to be a really long night.

Lydia walked a circle in the bedroom that she’d memorized every detail of, right down to the design of the

cracks in the floor. She’d eaten and then started pacing for what had to be hours and hours …

If not a whole day.

Frustration made a bitter lump in her throat. How could she—

The air stirred behind her.

She turned, ready to fight.

The demon was final y back. But something was wrong. The jackal in her could sense it even though he

stood there as proud and fierce as he’d been before.

Tense and nervous, she waited for him to do or say something.

Like her, he didn’t budge as they sized each other up. The weight of that frigid, frightening steel gaze sent

a shiver over her …

What was he going to do?

Seth held his breath as he silently debated what action to take. It was stupid to be here while wounded.

He knew that.

His room had always been the one place in hel he could retreat to that was safe from everyone except

Azura and Noir—there was no way to keep them out.

But with her here …

What are you bitching about? You’ll be abused regardless.
At least she didn’t have her powers. There

was only so much pain she could give him.

With the others …

It would be limitless, especial y after his payback.

I have no place else to go.

He would have rather locked her up before he passed out, but Noir had drained him completely after he’d

final y grown tired of beating him. Seth was so weak now. So sick. It was a wonder he’d made it back here

at al .

Don’t fall, damn you, you worthless piece of shit. Don’t you
dare
show a weakness
. He was steadfast in

spirit. But his body refused to cooperate. Against his wil , his legs gave out and he hit the floor so hard, he

was surprised he didn’t break the stone. He tried to stay conscious. To crawl toward his bed.

His body wouldn’t even give him that much. It was too tired and too sore.

Against everything he tried, the darkness took him under.

Lydia stepped back as she watched him lying on the floor in a giant metal armor heap. Was it a trick?

Why would it be? What could he gain by fal ing down in front of her?

Stil … demons in Azmodea were treacherous. Evil. One never knew what viciousness they were capable

of. Not until it was too late and they were on you.

Ever cautious and curious, she crept forward, ready to bolt if he grabbed her.

He didn’t.

It wasn’t until she knelt down that she saw the blood seeping into his like-colored hair, as wel as on his

armor and face. In several places, the blood ran from underneath the steel plates and dripped onto the

stone floor.

He’d been beaten. Viciously. No, savagely. The blows had smeared the white paint and the red and black

lines on his face, showing her that it was makeup after al and not his skin tone.

What do I do?

There was no one to cal for help. And in the back of her mind was the fear that if he died, she’d die too.

No one knew where she was. Probably not even Solin.

Crap.

Just how badly was he injured? The answer was obvious—bad enough that something as lethal y

ferocious as he, wasn’t conscious. Given what she’d seen of him, that seemed to be an impossibility.

Yet here he lay as stil as a dead man. And there was already a pool of blood forming underneath him.

She reached for the buckles on his armor and began removing the heavy pieces. And they were heavy—

like lifting lead planks. How could he walk around in them and not fal over? No wonder he was so massively

huge. He’d have to be to support it al .

Beneath the armor he wore a black, thinly quilted suit that must be padding to keep the metal from

bruising his skin. Careful y, she peeled it back to examine his wounds.

As she exposed his neck, she made an unexpected discovery. There was a curious tattoo of a beautiful,

multicolored swal ow. The tail of it started at the hol ow of his throat and swooped down along his col arbone

with its wings spanning from just over his shoulder to right above his nipple. A nipple that had a vicious scar

running through it as if someone had pierced it, then ripped the piercing out. She cringed at the very thought

and compulsively reached for her own breast.

Gah, that had to hurt.

Trying not to think about it, she continued to study the tattoo. For the most part the swal ow was blue, but

the wings were also red, yel ow, green, and white. The bird’s tail was split, and in between the two

streaming tail feathers was what appeared to be a broken, dark red heart.

How very strange. That whimsical bird didn’t match his evil persona at al . It was something an optimist or

dreamer might want.

Not the right hand of evil itself.

But she didn’t have time to contemplate that now. As she kept going, she uncovered a wel -muscled,

tawny body whose absolute perfection was marred again and again by countless scars, cuts, and bruises.

Bruises that lay over other bruises, and scars and injuries that bisected each other. There were also

numerous bite marks where the biter had left a dental impression so clear a dentist would envy it. And by

those, she could tel at least three different beings had attacked him.

Her stomach tightened at the physical manifestation of a lifetime of utter misery. Good grief, how many

times would someone have to be beaten to carry this amount of damage?

Honestly, she couldn’t choose between them as to which one would have caused him the most pain.

Although the one under his chin did look particularly nasty.

Even worse than the vicious, jagged scars were the deep fresh gashes and welts left by a barbed whip.

That must be what had caused him to col apse. She sucked her breath in sharply. Someone had torn him up

good and by the looks of it, they’d enjoyed it. She saw the defensive wounds on his forearms and biceps

where he’d tried to keep the lashes from hitting other parts of his body and had failed.

Obviously the demon wasn’t at the top of the food chain here. Which begged the question of who would

have done this to him.

Noir? Azura?

And why?

What had he done to make them want to hurt him so viciously?

With no answers, she stripped him down to the long black shorts he wore beneath his armor and

padding. They reminded her of bicycle shorts and they hugged his lean hips and muscular thighs.

Lydia tried to keep her gaze from the bulge there that told her his muscles weren’t the only part of him that

was huge. The gods had definitely been kind to him in that area.

Stop it.

But it was so difficult not to stare. He had the kind of body that a woman didn’t see every day. The kind

that you wanted to drape yourself over and just feel the warm hardness of it against your own skin. And while

he was most likely evil to his core, there was no denying the fact that he was exquisitely formed.

No, he was so lickably delicious that she could almost understand why he’d been bitten into. But the other

marks …

Those she didn’t understand at al .

She returned her attention to his head, where blood seeped from a nasty gash just above his left ear. He

was stil unconscious.

And bleeding al over. She couldn’t even begin to catalogue the list of injuries.

Her gaze dropped to his arm where she’d stabbed him. He had so many wounds there, she wasn’t sure

which one was hers. That thought nauseated her. No wonder he hadn’t reacted to it. She’d most likely

stabbed him in a bruise.

Or another wound.

And though she didn’t exactly like or trust anyone, she didn’t want to hurt them either. Not even him. It

pained her that she’d added to his damage and she hated herself for that weakness.

She shouldn’t care about his pain in the least. He’d certainly taken no mercy on Solin. So why then did

she ache to see him so ravaged?

Because I’m not a soulless demon like him
. She found no joy or humanity in abuse or meanness.

Her stomach churning in sympathy, she went to the bathroom to run a basin of warm water so that she

could clean and bandage his injuries.

The bandages she had to tear out of his bedsheets.

It took some time, but she very careful y cleaned and wrapped each wound. Once she was finished with

his body, she dumped the water, cleaned the basin, and then ran more so that she could tend to his face

and head.

As she washed the harsh makeup from his features, she slowly uncovered the truth of her “demon.”

He was beautiful. Absolutely stunning.

There was no other word for it. He would have been as pretty as a woman but for the rugged cut of his

masculine jaw and the sharpness of his cheekbones, both of which were dusted by a day’s growth of auburn

whiskers. No wonder he wore the makeup. It would be hard to terrify the demons of this place looking like he

did, even as tal and ripped as he was.

Not to mention, she was pretty sure he used it to conceal the bruises on his forehead, cheeks, and jaw.

Before she realized what she was doing, she ran her finger over his soft lips, remembering how good

they’d tasted until … She winced as she saw the mark where she’d bitten him, too.

Obviously, the last thing he’d needed was more pain. And she’d stupidly thought he was joking when he

said that he hadn’t had his lip busted open today.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, wondering if he’d ever had a moment of happiness in his entire life. By the

condition of his body, she’d say no.

How long had he lived in this hel realm?

One minute would be too long.

Her throat tight, she washed the blood from his hair. Hair that drew up into perfectly tight auburn spiral

curls the minute she wet it.

So it wasn’t straight after al . Those curls were incredibly soft and boyishly charming, like you would see

on a col ectible dol . Who would have thought?

Now that she had him bare and clean, the only thing scary about him was how flawlessly handsome he

was. How inviting. It was almost impossible not to stare at him.

He’s still the one who tortured Solin … the one who would have killed him had you not stopped him.

True. His looks didn’t change the cruelty of
his
actions. No matter what, he was her enemy. And he would

always remain so.

If you were smart, you’d stab him through the heart and kill him while you can.

Her dinner knife was only a few feet away.

And what if I did?
He’d told her that he couldn’t be kil ed. She had no reason to assume he’d been lying.

His beating and scars, and the fact that he stil breathed, told her he’d been honest about that.

Plus, even if she did kil him, she’d continue to be trapped here. That wouldn’t change. Without him, she

had no way to leave and no way to communicate with anyone.

He was her only hope for eventual release.

If only she could get a message to someone on the outside. But the more she tried, the more trapped she

felt.
What am I going to do?

She’d never felt more lost.

An eerie chil went down her spine as she saw her future and it wasn’t pretty.

For now, it was better to tolerate the demon she knew than the others who waited outside this room.

* * *

Seth came awake slowly to find himself lying facedown on the hard stone floor. He stared at his gloomy

bedroom wal , dreading the moment when the pain would kick in and he’d ache anew. But as he waited for

it, he realized that his head was on a soft pil ow and the weight on his body wasn’t his armor.

Someone had covered him with his blankets?

What the hel ?

Frowning, he started to move only to hear a warm, sweet voice chirp at him.

“Careful! You’l reopen your back.”

From the shadows, he saw an angel appear. Yeah, one with sharp teeth, he reminded himself. But the

current throbbing in his lips wasn’t from her nip, it was from Noir’s vicious backhands.

His head swam as the pain found him and kicked his teeth in. Yeah, this was what he was used to. Utter

fucking misery. For a moment, he feared he’d pass out again.

“Here.”

She picked his head up from the pil ow with the gentlest touch he’d ever known and helped him drink

water from the goblet he’d left with her dinner.

He swal owed careful y, his throat burning from internal injuries, until she pul ed the cup away. Then he

scowled at her. He’d ask her why she was helping him, but the answer was obvious and undeniable. He was

the only way she could get out of here and she knew it.

There was no emotion behind any of her actions. They were solely self-serving.

Like everyone else’s.

But at least she hadn’t taken advantage of his condition to hurt him more. That, in and of itself, was a

novelty.

Even stranger was the fact that she’d bothered to tend him at al . His scowl deepened as he focused on

the bandage she’d wrapped around his hand and knotted over his knuckles. “I told you, I couldn’t die.”