by Calista Fox
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Epilogue
Table of Contents
Title Page
Description
Praise for The Demon King Davian
From the Author:
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Epilogue
ABOUT AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR CALISTA FOX
ALSO BY CALISTA FOX
THE DEMON KING DAVIAN
The Deadly Attraction Series: Book One
Calista Fox
www.calistafox.com
www.facebook.com/calistafox
www.twitter.com/calistafoxbooks
www.foxknowshot.wordpress.com
THE DEMON KING DAVIAN
By Calista Fox
He conquered a world in decline… Then set his sights on the raven-haired object of his desire.
In a dangerous, post-apocalyptic world, the Demon King Davian is tormented by the fury he unleashed on the human populace and the subsequent unstable state of affairs—as well as a burning need to claim the one woman whose allure he can’t escape. His first encounter with Jade Deville—a human from the village that lies in the shadow of his vast kingdom—leaves the powerful, immortal king in the vulnerable position of wanting to give his mortal bedmate more than just physical pleasure. But he’s bound by his own laws and edicts…and knows keeping the peace means keeping his distance.
Jade has suffered many tragedies, yet experiences nothing but bliss in the arms of the Demon King. However, she is fiercely loyal to her kind, and her forbidden interludes with Davian leave her facing a fiery and potentially deadly attraction as tensions between the humans and demons ignite once more and she struggles to find her place in the new world—and is taunted by the question of whether love truly can conquer all.
Previously released as award-winning Deadly Attraction by Calista Fox (Ellora’s Cave Publishing). This super-length novel has been updated and professionally edited.
PRAISE FOR THE DEMON KING DAVIAN
(previously titled DEADLY ATTRACTION):
Coffee Times Reviewer Recommended Award for Beyond 5 Stars! “…The witty repertoire among the characters makes [The Demon King Davian] a joy to read. I fell in love with [Davian] and found Jade to be his perfect match. The romance is sizzling and the love scenes sublime. I am so hoping to see more of the secondary characters and to find out how the paranormal and humans learn to live together. Ms. Fox provides the perfect ending to such a wonderful story. I highly recommend [The Demon King Davian] to all paranormal enthusiasts.”
Romancing the Book “…It’s refreshing to find such a strong female character. Jade is self-confident and unafraid to give her opinion, even if it means she has to go toe-to-toe with the Demon King. …With a fresh and well-developed storyline, the author makes sure there is plenty of heat to steam up an e-reader screen. Jade and [Davian] are passionate both in and out of bed, ensuring that the reader is captivated from start to finish.”
J., Goodreads “Feels like I've been searching forever to find this book and the wait was definitely worth it. A female character that doesn’t take stupid risks and firmly stands up for what she believes in. Let’s not also forget about the dark and devilishly handsome hero (not just another pretty face but a hero with depth)…”
From the Author:
I’m excited to re-release this book for many reasons. The idea came to me in a dream and I really enjoyed fleshing it out in my mind for several months before I even sat down to write the story. I wasn’t sure I could pull off a paranormal of this magnitude—and it is a rather unorthodox romance. But the characters—main and secondary—really spoke to me. I love the push and pull, as well as the way they all force one another to see beyond themselves and really look at how the world has turned out following the decade-long Demon War, where they all stand thirty-five years later and how to progress from there. I hope you like reading it as much I liked writing it!
~ Calista
The Demon King Davian
Original Copyright 2013; Revised Edition Copyright 2017 by Calista Fox
Edited by: MarComm
Cover art by: MarComm Copyright 2017
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Chapter One
North America, 2054
Not all humans are good.
Not all demons are evil.
Jade Deville had heard those words uttered by her mother on more than one occasion. Never publicly, of course, for that would incite much controversy. Yet she would whisper in the darkness of Jade’s bedroom when, as a young girl, Jade asked about the various species so that she might better understand the dangerous creatures that ruled the world in which she lived.
Now twenty-six years old, Jade still had a difficult time understanding her mother’s stance. History books and the sparse remainder of humans across the continents following the decade-long world war that started in 2019 proved the demonic community was as deadly as terrorist attacks, bio-weaponry and nuclear bombs—the latter of which had been destroyed by the demons before combat had even ensued, effectively wiping out a large-scale defense.
Despite her mother’s empathy that had never fully been explained, Jade could not muster an ounce of compassion for the damned. After all, werewolves had viciously mauled her parents when she was just eleven, killing them both.
As she left her cottage on the banks of the narrow river that snaked its way along the o
utskirts of the village of Ryleigh, in northeastern Maine, she zipped her black leather jacket against the nip of the crisp autumn evening. And the biting sentiment lingering in the back of her mind, tonight more taunting than ever.
Plump snowflakes glistened in the silvery rays of moonlight that penetrated the spindle-fingered cloud cover overhead and the dense forest of skyscraping trees. Jade wove her way along the worn path that led to the heart of the village. The ground was hard beneath her feet, frozen, with a light dusting of white that would likely turn into a foot of fresh powder by the time she returned home.
If she returned home. One could never be too sure in this day and age, and Jade in particular.
Something watched her. She sensed its presence. Felt its gaze on her. This wasn’t the first time, and she was certain what followed her was not human. There were no snapping of twigs beneath its feet. No scent wafting on a stiff breeze. And she didn’t hear the slightest hint of breathing or see a puff of frosty air—as was the case with her, a human.
She suspected what tracked her was a wraith from the Demon King’s army. They were the most difficult to spot with their black cloaks blending into the inky night as they floated weightlessly over the land, making nary a sound. Yet they left a chill along the nape, if one paid close enough attention. Jade always did.
Although she was unable to see her pursuer, she had the right to demand the creature reveal itself. By royal decree, she was allowed to confront whatever threatened her.
The Demon King Davian—who’d commanded the outbreak of war when he rose to power thirty-five years ago—had surprisingly, upon his victory, issued several edicts in favor of the defeated and in the name of peacekeeping in the new world. One of which proclaimed no demon within his coalition could stalk, hunt or harm a human, unless said human was a slayer or witch who made the initial predatory move. A rare occurrence because both were in limited quantities these days.
In fact, Ryleigh was extremely fortunate to have two of their own slayers, who served as magistrates. Most towns shared a slayer amongst a hundred or so other settlements. Not great odds against those rogue demons who defied the law, nor an assurance of safety in the grand scheme of things.
Jade’s community was well protected for a reason. Regardless of the sanctions governing immortal interactions with mortals that might suggest it wasn’t necessary to have a duo of slayers in such a remote, lightly human-populated area, the village sat in the shadow of the demon ruler’s vast legion of allies.
The kingdom sprawled along the ridge of a portion of the New Brunswick border. Many of the vampires, shapeshifters and other unholy beings made residence within and outside the castle walls. Dark and foreboding as it rose above the pines, the castle lent a menacing and perilous presence to the region.
King Davian was the most revered of warlords. Given his massive federation and that he oversaw a large geographical expanse—that being all of North and Central America—he possessed the power to reign over the three stewards he’d appointed, each acting as the king’s representative for their designated territory.
As part of his regulations that kept the otherworldly immortals from preying on humans, the king had also declared no more than two preternatural beings at a time may roam close to or enter a village, the perimeter of which—in Ryleigh’s case—the slayers patrolled.
That particular pact might not have been broken this evening, but the no stalking restriction had clearly been violated by whatever tailed Jade.
A shiver chased down her spine and it wasn’t from the frigid gust whistling in a shrill tone through the trees. It was from the wraith.
Agitating her further was that she couldn’t discern in which direction the danger came or how to counteract it. Although she possessed above-average fighting skills, thanks to her father, she’d be no match for a ghost—the very reason she didn’t call out the hunter.
Quickening her steps, she reached the village proper, dimly lit by lampposts topped with torches enclosed in glass-and-iron lanterns. There was little activity on the cracked and brittle sidewalks or the pothole-invested streets, which had accumulated so much dirt over the years from lack of use, it was difficult to believe asphalt lay beneath the uneven soil.
Jade made her way to the tavern at the end of the block. She took one more look around her, pausing just outside the lively establishment, listening intently for any sign of what followed her. Not a peep, save for the hint of noise that breached the tavern walls and the chiming of the bell in its tower in the village square, signaling she was right on time for work at seven o’clock.
She shoved open the door and crossed the scuffed hardwood floor.
“Hey, Jade,” a few of the villagers greeted her.
“’Evening, everyone,” she said as she passed by, peeling off her jacket and shaking the snowflakes from it before hanging the garment on a hook in the far corner.
The tavern was as faintly lit as the streets. Candles on the long wooden tables and sconces hanging on the stone walls provided the only illumination, with the exception of the occasional lighting of a twig or dried needles set against a flame when a patron splurged on a hand-rolled cigarette.
Electricity, among other things, was not a commodity in this part of the country. Rumor had it, the humans on the West Coast had struck a bargain with their steward years ago and he had permitted them to restore limited power lines within larger communities. Apparently, the technique employed was circa late-nineteenth century, when electricity first made its way into homes in America.
Since Jade had never lived in a world with energy, she didn’t miss it. She could prepare meals over a fire and read by candlelight.
Modern amenities, it seemed, were of little use to the demon population, and that meant no manufacturing plants or advanced technology. Although, one major concession the king had made for easterners was mass purification of water.
Desalination procedures using condensers fueled by fire that boiled the liquid and pumped steam through salvaged pipes created condensation that turned into drinkable water. This made it possible to stock icehouses with sterilized cubes, as well as blocks cut from frozen lakes, useful for packing metal replicas of refrigerators.
Another allowance was human transportation by way of the occasional steam locomotive following the restoration of a main coast-to-coast railroad, which also provided importing and trading capabilities amongst territories. The demons themselves preferred their own two feet—or four legs, in the case of the animal shifters—or the gleaming black Arabians they were prone to breed.
Starting her shift, Jade tended to the small hearth to add more warmth to the room, then joined the tavern owner and her lifelong friend, Michael Hadley, as he served beers to the regulars gathered at the bar. The wooden surface was deeply scarred, but nobody seemed to mind. One simply had to be cautious of where they set their mug, so as to not perch it precariously in a groove.
“Damn cold out there, isn’t it?” Michael asked. He was easy on the eyes, with rugged looks, a head of tousled, russet-colored hair and a tall, muscular build.
“Still mild, relatively speaking,” Jade said. “Jinx predicted a long, hard winter. After today, we won’t be seeing the ground for another six or seven months.”
“Ah, the town crier strikes again,” Michael mused.
Jinx Cromley was the local psychic who had plenty to say about everything. Jade enjoyed his ramblings for the most part, but didn’t buy into his prophesies that the human world would one day more closely resemble what it had been at the turn of the millennium. Jade couldn’t fathom an alternative existence emerging from sheer and utter devastation.
“Jinx isn’t one to dampen spirits,” Michael continued, “but his winter forecasts always leave something to be desired.”
Jade reached for Donovan Kelly’s mug to refill it. She pumped the keg and cracked the tap while telling Michael, “Actually, all that fluffy white helps to counter the bleak gray and brighten the village.”
&nbs
p; Just as the daily grind of serving drinks and chatting with the locals helped to ease Jade’s jangled nerves over being watched. Her working environment offered a bit of protection for now. No immortal other than the king or the general of his army had the authority to pass through a human door without invitation—and rolling out a welcome mat for the damned was something she’d never heard of happening.
Though she truly couldn’t afford the luxury of false security. Something awaited her in the dark, dead of night. She felt it in her bones.
“Notice our shipment of merlot came in?” Michael asked, cutting into her grim thoughts. “Up for a sample?”
“Always.” Jade preferred wine over beer, though the former was a rare treat because of the exorbitant prices. So many of the country’s vineyards had been trampled during the war and there weren’t enough experienced vintners or workers to fully revive them, similar to the tobacco fields.
Specialized resources were scarce and money was also an issue for the majority. Some people had found ways to hide or horde it while under siege. Mostly, though, bartering was a way of life, rather than the exchange of funds for goods and services—with some obvious exceptions. Jade, for one, had nothing to trade, so she needed the modest wage Michael paid her.
He pulled the cork from a bottle and splashed a decent amount into two tumblers.
“May we not freeze our asses off,” he said by way of salute, before tilting his rim to hers. The glasses made a heavy clink that wasn’t the least bit elegant, but she liked hearing the sound. There were too few toasts these days, so even the most inconsequential one was a pleasant change of pace.
Still, she chided, “You grow so cynical this time of year. It’s not as though we’ll run out of wood for our hearths anytime soon.”
The thicket surrounded the village. Additionally, there was plenty of fallen debris to gather before the snow came down in earnest.
