by Calista Fox
Jade sipped her wine, though what Michael had poured was all she’d drink this evening. She knew to keep her wits about her, certain a confrontation beyond the tavern doors was imminent.
“Not bad, eh?” Michael asked as he gave her a casual grin. He was strapping and level-headed, and Jade tried to latch onto the comfort he naturally provided.
“Not bad at all,” she concurred. “The Delfinos will be pleased.” One of their best customers, who didn’t mind the upcharge on a premium merlot.
The evening progressed in its normal manner. Some of the patrons got a bit tipsier than others, which no one was overly concerned about, since everyone would agree it took the sting out of the oppression most of the villagers felt, being under the thumbs of demons. And given there were no automobiles—or gas stations, for that matter—no one fretted over causing an accident.
Jade, however, worried anew as the village’s bell tolled at midnight and the bar closed. She, Michael and Dane—the other server Michael employed—cleaned up, exited the building and locked the door behind them.
They bid Dane goodnight. Then, as Michael did six nights a week—because the tavern wasn’t open on the holy day out of memoriam for the villagers’ slaughtered ancestors—he turned to Jade and asked, “Want me to see you to your cottage?”
Jade experienced a twinge of guilt that he was so chivalrous. They’d been lovers once, years ago. Both eighteen, without a clue in the world as to what they were doing. That was the year Michael’s parents had died in an avalanche.
In the midst of that tragedy, Michael had pulled away. So had Jade, as memories of her own harrowing loss haunted her. They’d remained close friends despite the breakup. And of late, she’d caught the lingering glances he gave her. The hint of what if? in his gentle gaze.
But eight years had passed since they’d severed romantic ties, and although he still had the ability to make her stomach flutter with a grin or a chuckle, a true reunion didn’t seem to be in the cards. Mainly because neither one of them spoke of their pasts, which was something they both knew was necessary to do in order to reconcile their inner turmoil and strengthen the emotional bond they’d once shared.
Though instead of delving into painful recollections, they chose to ignore them. Keep them relegated to the far recesses of their minds.
So, as always when his query came, Jade told him, “It’d hardly make sense—we’re on opposite sides of town. You’d have to walk all the way back here. And then some.”
“Yeah, I know.” He hedged, as though he had something more to say. His gaze held hers, the rich, chocolatey irises full of unexpressed feelings Jade couldn’t quite wade through. “I keep thinking someday you’ll say yes.”
To what? she wondered.
Yes to an escort? Or yes to so much more?
He brushed away a lock of dark hair that had blown across her face and stuck to her eyelashes. Tucking the plump curl behind her ear, he said, “I hate to think of you all alone in the cottage. You don’t have any neighbors, Jade. It concerns me.”
With a soft smile, she told him, “I’m very good at taking care of myself, Michael. Been doing it for a long, long time.”
“Of course. It’s just…” His voice trailed off. His jaw clenched briefly. Then he asked, “Don’t you get lonely?”
She stared up at him, emotion swelling in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t have the appropriate words. The attraction between them still existed, to a degree. Yet circumstances beyond their control had torn them apart once and Jade had not been inclined to have her heart broken again. Nor had Michael, it seemed.
But perhaps he’d changed his mind about that. About them.
Finally, she said, “I do, I’ll confess. Especially this time of year, when the snow’s falling and all I can think of is snuggling in front of a cozy fire with someone.”
His head bent to hers. “That someone should be me.”
Jade sucked in a breath. He was thinking along those lines.
Their eyes remained locked as Michael’s body gravitated closer. Surprisingly, she didn’t retreat.
His lips were just about to touch hers. A tingle of anticipation rippled through her. Her eyelids dipped.
Then a sharp snort pierced the quiet air and Michael’s head snapped up—as her eyes flew open.
Jade jumped back, startled. She whirled around, having heard the sound behind her. “A horse?”
A second later, the smack of a hand against a flank and the pounding of hooves reverberated all around them.
Sinister. Ominous.
The night was too shadowy, the trees and buildings in the village too dense and the demon’s cloak and his steed too black and shrouded for Jade to have seen anything. But she knew her stalker had come back for her, on horseback.
To take her away with him?
Her panic returned in a flash. An eerie, jagged sensation riddled her insides, chasing away what little bit of solace Michael had provided this evening.
Facing him, Jade insisted, “Go home and secure your door.”
He glared at her, incredulous. “Me? What about you? You think I’m going to let you wander the forest alone at night when there was clearly someone watching us?”
“Not us. Me. He’s been following me for some time,” she distractedly added.
Michael clasped her shoulders. “Who?” he demanded.
“I don’t know, exactly. But it’s time I find out.” Her pulse raged, yet she managed to speak calmly, for Michael’s benefit. “It’ll be a hell of a lot easier if I don’t have to worry about whatever’s out there in the dark coming after you too.” She couldn’t inadvertently put her best friend in danger.
He appeared stumped by what course of action to take.
“Do this for me, Michael,” she implored. “Trust me.”
Regardless of his obvious reluctance, he released her. “Be careful, Jade.”
“I will. Now go. Before he circles round.”
“Jade.” Michael remained rooted where he stood.
“I can handle this,” she vowed, giving him a light shove in the right direction. “Go. I know what I’m doing.”
She’d been battling demons her entire life, after all.
In more ways than one…
Chapter Two
Davian stormed into the castle, having left his Arabian with stable attendants. He took the steps of the sweeping marble staircase two at a time, reaching the sixth floor. He strode agitatedly along the east wing and into his study. Stripping off his riding gloves, he tossed them on the desk.
“My Lord, is there a problem?” Sheena asked as she joined him.
She’d likely been curled up in her chair in front of the fireplace in the adjacent sitting room, awaiting his return, as she was prone to do. She moved gracefully toward him, a stealthy vampire with flowing dark-auburn hair and penetrating green eyes. A striking woman, yes, yet she held no allure for him. The object of his never-ending obsession had grabbed his attention eight years ago and had not let go of it since.
“May I pour you a drink?” Sheena offered in her cultured English accent.
“A large one,” he said, his voice as tight as his bunched muscles and coiled gut.
Davian’s highly competent and overly astute assistant handed him a snifter of brandy after he’d shed his full-length cloak. He took several big gulps and she waited patiently for his next command.
When it was not forthcoming, she surmised, “Something went awry with the human?”
At that very moment, the general of his army sauntered in. “Well, she’s certainly onto us now!”
Davian glowered at the leader of his militia—and his longtime friend. “I don’t need commentary from you, Morgan. I’m perfectly aware I fucked the whole thing up.”
Instantly backtracking, the general said in a placating tone, “It was merely a reconnaissance mission, your Highness. No harm, no foul.”
“Wrong,” Davian all but growled before he drained his glass.
With a slight wince from the burning sensation in his throat, he added, “At this point, Jade knows we’re watching her and that violates the law I laid down.”
“I suspect she knew someone tailed her before this evening, when I was the only one following her,” he admitted. “She’s always looking over her shoulder, stopping from time to time to listen for footsteps.”
“She wouldn’t hear any, nor would she see you. You’re a wraith. You can take male form,” as he did now, “or you can simply disappear. Become an apparition that vanishes into thin air.”
“I still could have been the one to tip her off,” Morgan further contended.
Davian shook his head. Fury tore through him that he’d been the one to bungle such an easy quest.
Then again, no. It hadn’t been easy at all. Nothing ever was when it came to the bewitching Jade Deville.
Davian had come across her years ago, heart-stricken and tearful, and he’d been instantly entranced by her. Though he’d maintained his distance, he’d watched her carefully that evening. Had then studied up on the people she was close to and had learned as much as he could about her.
He knew she’d once had a relationship with Michael Hadley that had gone sour. So tonight, when Michael had moved in for a kiss… Davian had flinched and his horse, Thunder, had been inclined to let him know he was making an ass of himself by reacting to another man kissing a woman Davian had no business lusting after in the first place.
One, she was mortal. That alone erected a steel cage around him that was not to be breached no matter how arousing he found her.
Two, he had no idea what sort of power she possessed or how she’d obtained it, but something mystical built within her. He had the keen ability to sense it, though he had no idea what the budding strength was or from where it stemmed.
She didn’t practice Wicca, Morgan had already confirmed that. But Davian had discovered one of Jade’s acquaintances worshiped ancient pagan gods and their rituals. Yet Lisette Bordeaux had been bound by edict not to practice any sort of witchcraft. This had been Davian’s ruling, when he’d instituted the regulation no demon could harm a human.
In his mind, if he kept to the law of averages, making it illegal for demons to cause further trouble for the humans and making it impossible for Wiccans such as Lisette to use vanquishing spells against the immortals, peace might prevail.
The war had caused too much destruction and had altered not only the face of the planet, but also civilization as everyone—human and demon alike—had known it at the beginning of this century.
In many ways, time had stood still after the last sweep of near human eradication. The intent of the war had been to reduce the numbers significantly, in favor of Davian’s kind. Not completely wipe out the mortal population. The humans still had their uses; though modern advancement in the post-apocalyptic world was not something he supported, leaving this new society with baser provisions that were essentially throwbacks to the 1800s, a simpler time he preferred.
Davian, who’d turned two hundred years old back in 2019 when the war erupted, did not miss the spoils of a high-tech world. He was old-fashioned that way.
“Something—or someone—threatens my reign,” he said to Morgan, elevating his need to determine what was transpiring with Jade Deville. It was too damn bad his libido kept getting in the way.
For fuck’s sake, if he didn’t stop feeling so territorial toward the human, he might end up losing his kingdom!
After taking another sip of the drink Sheena had efficiently refreshed, Davian said to Morgan, “I’m immortal by lineage, but I don’t possess the ability to vaporize. You’re going to have to continue your surveillance on Jade.” It was more than that. He simply couldn’t be objective when it came to this woman.
Morgan said, “Of course, I’ll do whatever necessary. And I will be much more careful in the future, your Majesty.”
It was not necessary for Davian’s best friend to address him so formally in private, but he always did when it came to military matters.
Gripping Morgan’s shoulder with his free hand, Davian said, “I made the mistake tonight, not you.” He gave further thought to the situation and added, “It’s been several days since Jade has visited Lisette and chances are good she’ll be dropping by soon. I need to know what they discuss. If it’s magic I’m sensing, then we have to stop the power from burgeoning. One witch in the village is risk enough. Two, who might be able to combine their talents into a single significant strength, could prove detrimental when it comes to keeping the peace. They impair even one demon and there will be hell to pay. I won’t be able to stop it.”
With a curt nod, the general said, “I understand.”
“There will never be harmony between us and them, but we don’t need another massacre. I am adamant about never again unleashing the demon population on mortals, but my hand might be forced if Lisette—or Jade—breaks my rule and those in my alliance demand retribution. Or seek it on their own.”
“I assure you, whatever they’re up to, I’ll find out about it and report immediately to you.”
A subtle shift in Davian’s demeanor and the tense atmosphere caused Sheena to bustle about, feigning indifference over his new quiet contemplation.
“Is there something more, Davian?” This from his friend, not the general of his immense army.
Conflicting emotions warred within Davian. He was the Demon King. Powerful and revered. Never challenged by others. Never doubted.
Yet he doubted himself these days, an internal plague that could undermine his authority.
Actually, he’d felt the push and pull within him for several years now. Since that night he’d come across Jade and had gazed at her over the river separating them.
She’d sat along the shoreline, tears wetting her cheeks. The moonlight had cast a shimmery glow around her, lending an angelic appearance. Not at all the way she seemed in reality. No, he’d witnessed from afar the raven-haired, blue-eyed spitfire in action when she was riled and he’d been as captivated with her fiery spirit as her emotionally damaged soul.
He couldn’t explain why. It went well beyond her stealing his breath with a sculpted face, high cheekbones and full, luscious red lips. She was also tall and curvy, enticing in a way that made his cock throb at the mere thought of her. But Jade Deville was a peril best avoided because she not only stirred his senses, she also brought out a protective side of him that contradicted his entire existence.
She was human and a commoner living outside his walls. He was immortal and king of the land he’d conquered.
And yet, there was something about that very sentiment that held him hostage. He’d never wanted to be king. He’d never wanted the almost impossible to stop annihilation of humans. He’d been a puppet. A very effective one, because he clearly had the ability to command an innumerable force. But his hands had been tied. He’d done as was expected of him by his dominant, influential family.
And perhaps therein lay the crux of his problem. Maybe his punishment for being cajoled into taking on a task he’d not agreed with from an ethical or a political standpoint, but which had been thrust upon him, was to suffer through an unrequited infatuation that could not possibly, in any capacity, be fulfilled.
Or…maybe being locked in a hopeless situation was the key to his redemption. For Davian’s military undertaking had gotten completely out of hand because he’d made too good a ruler in the demonic world. And was now strapped with the moral consequences for the rest of his eternity.
Was his torment meant to be the catalyst for some sort of restitution and restoration that encompassed more than simply keeping the peace?
His hand dropped from Morgan’s shoulder. He moved away, turning his back on his friend. Perhaps what had been set into motion had a specific purpose in this new world.
Davian said, “It’s possible the die has already been cast. Leave Jade be for now.”
* * *
Jade was not followed home that night. An
d while it came as a relief, it also struck her as odd. She’d grown accustomed to the mysterious stalker. It had never been a comforting presence, yet there had been something alluring about not being all alone in the woods of Ryleigh, given she’d felt alone the majority of her life. A point Michael had successfully made this evening.
As she entered the cottage and slid the wide, heavy-metal latch into place on the door, she wondered who’d been outside the tavern, watching her. And why. While she fanned the flames of the low-burning fire in her living room, she considered the possibilities. Was she being stalked for the inevitable purpose of being preyed upon? Or had the Demon King sent one of his wraiths to spy on her?
She would concede she had abilities that might draw speculation and concern from the king. But Jade had never used any of her natural powers in front of another and had told no one of what she was capable. Not even Lisette.
From the time Jade was a little girl, she could skillfully move objects with her mind. Her psychokinesis had alarmed her at first—what normal person could do such a thing?
But then she’d witnessed her father, Liam, moving his pipe from the mantle to his hand without ever getting out of his chair. The “gift” they both possessed had been their shared secret. Never to be revealed to anyone else. Never to be used in front of another, including Jade’s mother.
There was a second gift Jade had discovered when she’d fallen from a horse and had broken several bones. Those bones had healed at such an accelerated rate, her father had insisted he be the only one to tend to her. With instruction from the local physician to straighten her limbs so they set correctly, Jade’s father stayed by her side while her body repaired itself.
He’d had to backtrack and announce he’d been overly dramatic in his assessment of her injuries—so overcome with fear and grief, he’d assumed the worst—when, instead, she’d merely had the wind knocked out of her and that had made it impossible for her to move, causing Michael, who’d been riding with her, to seek help from Liam. Given her father’s principal position within the village, and Jade’s expeditious recovery, the lie had not been questioned.
