Page 16 of The Guardian (Dark-Hunter 20)
Chapter 6
Lydia paused as the demon reappeared in the room with her. Even though he stood as proud and fierce as he always did, she saw the shame and self-loathing in his icy blue eyes before he blinked and averted his gaze, then slowly limped to his desk.
As he sat down in the ornately carved chair, she started to ask him if he was all right, but didn't want to wound his pride any worse than it already appeared to be. There was no need to ask that when she could already tell he was embarrassed and upset.
And it was painfully obvious that he wasn't all right. He was hurting and she didn't mean the physical pain of his injuries. An air of hopeless despair, and utter grief and sadness clung to him. She'd never seen anything like it. Not even in nightmares.
Without a word, he carefully wiped at the fresh blood trickling from the corner of his nose and swollen mouth. There was more blood from his ear, running down his neck in a bright red stripe that matched his makeup. The fact that he ignored it completely told her just how often this happened to him. He no longer reacted to it.
For some reason she couldn't name, that image of him sitting there, looking so lost and yet fierce, touched a part of her heart and made her ache for him as if it were her own pain.
He wore a mask of tough, unshakable power and yet ...
She didn't see the demon's painted-on face right now. She only saw the man who hid himself behind it. And even though they were enemies, she wanted to soothe that side of him.
Maybe, just maybe, if she could reach it, he might help her and Solin. The gods knew he had no reason to side with Noir. Not when the bastard abused him so.
There was a flesh and blood man inside his soul. One in eternal pain. And having been wounded and orphaned in a world that was suspicious of and angry at her kind, and hateful beyond belief, she understood the need to draw inward and hide. The proclivity to strike out and hurt them before they hurt her.
It was a survivor's instinct. A fighter's way.
But for Solin and his love, she wouldn't have been any better or kinder than the demon was. There was no telling what she would have become ultimately.
One person could make such a difference in someone's life. Either good or bad. With their actions and words, a single individual had the power to save or destroy another.
She'd been so lucky. Solin had appeared when she needed him and taken away her pain. He'd taught her to laugh again and to love, even when her past told her to keep her heart closed.
But the demon ...
He didn't have a Solin to hold him and tell him that everything would be all right. That he would kill anyone who harmed him, and protect him no matter the threat. A Solin who promised him that in time the pain of the past would fade to a dull ache and that he would learn to love and laugh again.
Solin had been her greatest gift.
Instead, too many had attacked this demon and tried to destroy him, and they had failed.
Perhaps it was time someone tried another tactic besides violence. One he might not be able to defend against.
She crossed halfway to where he sat, afraid to get too close lest he put his defenses in place and repel her. "What's your name?"
Licking at the cut on his lip, he furrowed his brow as he finally turned his attention to her. "Excuse me?"
So the beast had manners after all. It was refreshing to see them.
"Your name. What is it?"
Seth sat in silence as he pondered how to answer what should be a simple thing. No one other than Azura's servant, Jaden, had used his given name since he'd left the human realm.
To his face-whenever he wasn't pinned down and unable to strike back-the demons called him Guardian or Master. Noir and Azura only called him by insults or Slave, so much so that he wasn't even sure if they knew his name.
Bastard was probably the most common or least offensive epitaph he bore.
Still ...
Why would she want to know his name when no one else ever had? Not even Jaden had asked. He'd merely plucked it out of Seth's head, without his permission, the first time they met.
Honestly, he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear it on her lips. A part of him was even afraid of that small intimacy and what it might do to him. No good could come of her calling him by name.
None.
"Why do you want to know it?"
Lydia sighed wearily. "You are ever suspicious of everything. Are you really that afraid of me? What in the name of Olympus could I, as small as I am, do to you?"
She could weaken him, and here, in this hell where he was forced to live, that could get him hurt a lot worse. To care about anything or anyone ...
Those were the most lethal of weapons. It was exactly why he was holding her.
To weaken and control Solin.
I will never be such a fool. Not for anyone or anything.
He'd come into this world alone and alone he would forever remain.
"I'm not afraid of you, woman," he sneered. "I fear nothing." How could he? His entire life was nightmare after nightmare. If he feared something, it was used against him.
So any fear he might have once held had been purged centuries ago.
Now ...
He was empty at best and furious at worst. Those were the only two emotions he had. The only two he was capable of understanding anymore.
Her topaz eyes filled with sadness, she shook her head. "Exchanging names is what people do when they meet."
"Yes, but I'm not a..." he stopped just short of saying "person." They had long ago stripped that last bit of dignity out of him. He didn't know what he was anymore. Not really. But she didn't need to know that either.
"You're not what?" she asked after a minute.
"Human."
