Page 69 of The Guardian (Dark-Hunter 20)
He brushed at her skin, trying to clean her. There was so much blood. How could anyone have done this to such a kind, sweet being?
How?
I'll kill him, he swore to himself. He didn't know how, but he was going to get that bastard and rip him to pieces.
It's what you get for trusting someone. If anyone knew better, it was he. They had a traitor in their midst, and that betrayal had cost Lydia her life.
He would find the turncoat Dream-Hunter, too, and bathe in their blood.
But first he had a daughter to bury.
* * *
Lydia groaned as she blinked open her eyes. She felt so incredibly sick. What had she eaten?
Where am I?
She looked around the lush bed with linen curtains surrounding it. The sound of the sea and smell of saltwater was thick in the air. Over the top of the bed was a gold medallion and a crystal chandelier that, when lit, would cast dancing deer on the ceiling.
She frowned as she realized where she was. Solin's house.
But why was she here?
Why was she dressed in this garish white gown?
Oh good grief! She was in lace and ruffles. Ick! It was something her father would put her in, and something she'd only agree to wear if she had a severe head injury ... or was dead.
"Damn it, George, I wanted the white ones for today! White! Do you hear me?"
She jumped at Solin's angry shout. How strange. She'd never heard him fuss at poor George before. He normally had infinite patience with his valet, who was more family than employee.
Yawning, she stretched and sat up at the same time Solin came into her room.
He froze to gape at her, then a heartbeat later he flashed himself across the room to grab her into a hug so tight, she couldn't breathe.
"You're crushing me." Lydia didn't know who was most stunned when those words came out.
Her or her father.
Shocked to the core of her being, she stared up at him as he looked down at her, gaping. "Was that you?"
She touched her throat, almost too afraid to try again. "I think so."
Dear gods, she could speak ...
But how?
And still, why was she at Solin's? She kept coming back to that because she had no explanation whatsoever. "What am I doing here?"
Solin scowled as he tried to grasp what was happening. Lydia was alive.
Alive!
He'd planned to entomb her body in only a few hours. But here she stood, whole and hale, and ...
Alive.
He kept repeating that one word because he couldn't believe it. The Guardian hadn't killed her?
It was inconceivable. She'd been here for two days while he made preparations. No pulse. No heartbeat. And now she was just as she'd always been.
"Don't you remember the last week?"
Lydia shook her head. "I was at home. I remember that I was angry about something, but I don't remember what. Then I woke up here. Did you teleport me?"
"No, baby, I didn't. You really have no memory of..." he didn't want to mention Azmodea if she didn't remember it, "coming after me?"
She shook her head. "Why did I come after you?"
Solin's eyes misted as he realized what the Guardian had done for her.
He'd freed Lydia forever so that she could finally live her life without either of them having to fear that the other Greeks would find her. Everyone thought she was dead now.
For the first time in her life, she was completely safe.
But why would he have done such a thing?
Why do you think?
The Guardian loved her. There was no other reason for it. None. He'd given his own freedom, his life, for Lydia.
Solin stood there, amazed and grateful. Never in his life had anyone done anything like this for him. "Do you remember anyone from the last couple of days?"
She arched her brow. "Like?"
"A man with red hair?"
"Haven't been to McDonald's in a long time. Are you okay? You're looking at me really strangely."
