Page 9 of The Guardian (Dark-Hunter 20)
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?"
