The Guardian (Chronicles of Dover's Amalgam Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

that you are afraid. You seem at ease with me and where you are. I cannot see any evidence of discomfort.”
    A puff of air passed Elizabet’s lips. “Apathy. Blame movies for that.” She shrugged. “I’ve seen every time travel, science fiction picture known. It’s nothing new. In theory.”
    “And motion pictures are to blame for this apathy you claim?” He adjusted his back against the pillows. The slight movement caused him to wince with the pain. Purposely, he used modern terms to remind her he was not naïve to her world. She threw things—ideas—around as if to intimidate him. She had no idea . . .
    In fact, his world was a mixture of old and new. Jareth liked what the future entailed and he had incorporated many modern aspects into his time. Elizabet did not know the extent of his dealings with the future. She had been confined to one room—his private chamber. The girl would be hysterical if she knew what lay beyond the walls and in the tunnels under the castle. She would faint if she knew he was a capable surgeon and physician. She would run screaming if she were to see the fully functioning surgery suite beneath the castle exterior.
    “You shouldn’t move around.” Elizabet leaned forward and reached out to stop him. “You’ll start bleeding again.” She stopped before she actually touched him, and glanced at where the bed sheet covered his torso. Her hands hovering—she seemed terrified the blood would start again. It was uncanny how she was fearful of a little blood, yet accepting of where and how she was transported, all for the sake of adventure.
    Jareth smirked despite the hot poker digging into his wound. “Some movement is good. It prevents unwanted clot formation.” He tried a disarming smile once again. “Have a care. You may have to do something nice for me.”
    “I resent that.” She snatched her hands away and tucked them in her armpits. She gave herself a fierce hug. “I’ve done everything that was asked of me.”
    “And yet you feel kidnapped. Stolen.” He looked Elizabet straight in the eye, his half smile becoming a slight sneer despite his attempt to appear docile. For a while, he thought he saw a twinge of remorse or guilt, but then blatant irritation crossed her face and she did not try to hide it. He shook his head methodically and looked away. “The ever petulant Elizabet.”
    Elizabet snorted.
    Jareth allowed a smile, this time real—which was altogether unusual. Smiling was not a habit of his, but this one was easy and unplanned. And caused by that particular noise she made when she was put out. It was a little huff that sounded positively swinish.
    “All right. Let us try this. We know so little of one another, perhaps you can tell me a bit about yourself,” he suggested.
    “You want to know about me, when I know so very little about you?” Elizabet’s face contorted into a mask of anger. “Your friends are nothing but a pair of bullies. All their rules.” She blew a piece of her multi-colored hair from her eyes when it fell over her face. Her hair was held back today, but her bangs were uneven from the rest and kept creeping into her vision. The way she wore it reminded him of a horse’s tail. “Don’t ask questions,” she went on in an imitation of a man’s voice. “Don’t talk about what goes on. Lie if asked.” She gave him a sharp look. “I’m supposed to never freak out, and go along with everything you tell me to do. Like I’m some sort of servant or something. You want to know about me; well, I want to know about you. Starting with your name.” Her eyes widened. “And who reads in Latin? “She flipped her hand toward the book lying next to him. It seemed she was attempting to get everything in while she had the chance. The girl gave the term ‘flight of ideas’ a whole new meaning. “Do you even understand that they don’t make books in that language anymore? I had to order it on eBay. Do you know how much that cost me?”
    She