The Demon King Davian (Deadly Attraction Book 1)

by Calista Fox

  She draped the cloak over her shoulders. Jade wasn’t a small woman, but the black material dwarfed her and pooled at her feet.

  “Thank you,” she said. “And I apologize for being so blunt. I’ve not spoken to a royal before, and I tend to say what’s on my mind without censoring it. I’ll behave as appropriately as I can manage during this conversation.”

  He crooked a brow at her, sardonically, which told her he doubted she was capable of keeping her promise. “I’ll give you wide berth in private, but you try my patience in public. I won’t have you making a mockery of me or demeaning my governance.”

  “I assure you, neither was my intention. And why the leniency when we’re not in earshot of anyone?”

  “Because,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck, as though her very presence brought on bunched muscles. Or a pinched nerve.

  He didn’t speak for several moments.

  Jade found this perplexing. He did not seem like the type of man who would ever be at a loss for conversation.

  “Your Highness?” she prompted.

  “Call me Davian when we’re alone.”

  When we’re alone…?

  Was this to become a regular occurrence?

  Jade’s heart kicked into a staccato beat that quickened her breath.

  “Why are we alone?” she carefully asked.

  “Because…” he repeated before his jaw tightened. Only for a moment. Then he quietly asserted, “I need you.”

  Unadulterated lust flooded her veins. Jade gaped. Davian swore under his breath. He did an about-face and stalked over to Lisette’s desk.

  Sinfully delicious flames flickered along Jade’s clit, and there was nothing she could do to stop the wave of heat rolling over her skin. She’d told him that very thing in her dream—that she needed him. He’d responded fervidly, having made his own confession.

  I’ve wanted you for so long.

  That unexpected and prevailing statement would never leave her mind. But what did he want from her, really?

  The firestorm he ignited from just his words and smoldering gazes—the man hadn’t even touched her, for God’s sake!—made Jade shed his cloak and hang it over the back of a chair before she spontaneously combusted.

  Meanwhile, the knuckles of Davian’s fist rapped the top of the desk in angst or frustration or both.

  She ventured, “What do you mean when you say you need me? For what…purpose?”

  Turning back to her, he speared her with an electrifying look that caused her to go weak in the knees. Like she needed more physical responses evoked by him. “What I meant to say,” he told her, “is that I need to know more about who you are and what powers you possess.”

  “Powers?”

  “Don’t play coy with me. You’ve already proven it’s not in your nature.”

  Jade sighed. Without doubt, she wouldn’t win a battle of wills with this man. Demon. Man. Whatever.

  Yet she explained, “I don’t have powers. I have abilities that aren’t exactly the norm, but nothing mystical or magical. Well, not totally…” Another wisp of air blew through her parted lips. This was about to get even more complicated than the sexy fantasy she’d participated in. And perhaps as hazardous to her health as Jinx’s precarious experiment.

  Awaiting her reply, Davian slung a thick, black leather-clad thigh over the corner of the desk, halfway sitting on the edge of the sturdy piece of furniture. He folded his arms over his massive chest and said, “Do tell.”

  Jade anxiously paced before him, suddenly feeling as though she were on trial for her life. In the meeting hall, she’d been fueled by her personal qualms and aggravations, but also by Jinx’s death. Maybe she had gone too far with the Demon King, but she wouldn’t stand idly by as the villagers were picked off one by one.

  Which made her wonder, if she told him of her gifts, would he do as she’d feared earlier—toss her in a cell and throw away the key because she was an anomaly he felt might be a threat to him and his kingdom?

  “Jade.”

  He said her name with such familiarity and intimacy, it brought her to an abrupt halt.

  She knew she walked a fine line, but had to ask, “Were you outside my house last night?”

  Now his jaw worked rigorously. His casual disposition, which she realized had been his way of trying to put her at ease, turned unyielding.

  Jade gazed brazenly at him. “Do you possess special powers?”

  He didn’t say anything for a long spell, which increased her apprehension. Now she was stepping all over protocol. Stomping on it, actually. But she needed a bottom line here. Couldn’t live another day without it, so what the hell?

  She threw caution to the wind and closed the gap between her and the king. “Please,” she said in as much of a non-assuming voice as she could muster. “I’m not being impertinent. I saw hoof prints on the opposite bank of the river where my cottage sits. I heard a horse when I came out of the tavern. I know something…or someone…follows me. Is it you?”

  Davian slipped from his perch on the desk and stood, towering over her. Making her breath catch; eventually, she had the good sense to recognize it ought to be panic skating down her spine—not arousal.

  Somehow maintaining her composure, she dared to say, “By your own command, I have the right to know if and why I’m being tracked.”

  He glared at her, but she didn’t wither under duress.

  A stare-down ensued. Until a disconcerting thought slammed into Jade. She gasped. “Oh, my God! Can you read minds?”

  “On occasion,” he told her, unapologetic.

  She gaped. That was the last thing she needed to hear.

  Holy. Hell.

  “What sort of occasions?”

  He remained stoic as he said, “If you think I’ve been reading yours, you’re wrong. At least, not for some time, as a rule.”

  “Not last night?”

  “That would be the exception.”

  Jade’s heart beat faster. “I had a dream about you. A man I’d never met. And yet the image in my head was true to form.”

  “I did that,” he admitted, though his dark features hardened, as if he was tormented by his confession—or the fantasy they’d woven together. “I can influence the visions in a human’s mind, though I don’t do it on a regular basis. I don’t read your thoughts in particular because they’re…extremely painful.”

  He shifted away from her.

  Jade stared at his broad shoulders and wide back. Last night, he’d given her a sensational idea of what it was like to be naked with him, and her body burned with the reminder.

  But she was balancing on the tip of a sword with both theory and reality taunting her. The fact that he wouldn’t tap her brain because of the grisly memories of the lethal attack on her parents and a breakup that had also almost gutted her was a relief, yet he’d still crossed a human boundary by hijacking her dream.

  Worse…

  “You knew I was thinking of Michael and you insinuated yourself into my subconscious so I wouldn’t fantasize about him.” Another revelation hit her. “It was you outside the tavern. When he was about to kiss me.”

  Once again, the king’s muscles visibly stiffened beneath the black sweater he wore. Jade couldn’t deny that she pushed him to the brink of insanity as much as he did her.

  As he slowly pivoted toward her, the cords of his neck pulled taut and he said, “Michael Hadley hurt you once before. I won’t let it happen again.”

  Jade took a step back as uncertainty skittered through her. “How do you know so much about me if you’re not in my head, as you claim? And what does my relationship with Michael have to do with any of this? We’re losing sight of our purpose. None of this makes sense. All I want to know is—” The big picture suddenly materialized before her. “You are stalking me.”

  “Yes,” he finally conceded. “In various capacities.”

  “How many can there be?” she demanded, incredulous.

  Not the least bit faz
ed by her exasperation, he said, “For starters, I am the king, remember? It’s my duty and right to know the happenings of both my kingdom and the regions I oversee. I also have a sixth sense that helps me to home in on the powers others have cultivated. That’s how I knew your friend, Lisette, has Wiccan gifts and even that Jinx could predict the future.”

  A menacing thought crawled through her brain. “He believed the human world would be rebuilt. Not that we’d be able to conquer the demons, but that mortals and immortals would learn to coexist in a modern world, somewhat similar to the one Jinx, Lisette and the elders knew before the war.” This time, he truly could call her insolent when she asked, “Did you fear Jinx was right and didn’t want him spreading that word?”

  Davian’s brow jerked and a distinct warning flashed in his eyes. “Are you suggesting I had him killed to silence him?”

  “You are the king,” she said, ignoring the imminent peril presented by once again challenging this man.

  He glowered at her. “Do you have any idea what risky territory you’re in?”

  “Of course.” She swallowed hard. “But Jinx was my friend and I want to know why something so horrific has happened to him. Clearly, those of us who have abilities that could pose a problem for your kingdom are under observation.”

  Davian let out a low, anguished sound. Took a moment to seemingly collect himself. Then he waved a hand in the air in a manner meant to appease her—or dial down the intensity a bit.

  He said, “Jinx Cromley was never a concern for me. He was optimistic and waxed poetic. He never created trouble. As for Lisette Bordeaux, I don’t want her practicing witchcraft any more than I want my vampires drinking human blood from the source. It taints the civility I’ve fought to establish since the war ended.”

  “And what about me?” she repeated.

  “I was…mistaken.” He shoved his hand through that gleaming black hair she’d tousled in an imaginary vision. Sauntering to the fireplace, he jabbed at the logs with the metal tool from the rack alongside the hearth, stoking the flames. For her benefit, she surmised. He hardly appeared to notice the frigid temperature.

  “What was the mistake?” she queried. “Following me? Or what you did to me while I was sleeping?”

  He replaced the rod and faced her.

  “I had you watched by a wraith from my army because I sensed a new power building within you. I needed—I need—to know what it is. I followed you personally when I couldn’t sort out the root of the power, what the actual gift is. What I did was wrong. It went against the rules I implemented and I am sorry for that.” His gorgeous amber irises glowed from the candlelight and were rimmed with blood-orange, giving them a fiery effect that captivated her. He said, “As for last evening, that was no mistake. I knew what I was doing. Out of the dream as well as within it.”

  Her jaw fell slack. But she hastily recovered. “Why would you…?” She exhaled heavily. Was there any recovery from his revelation? “I mean, what on earth were you thinking?”

  The urge to rail at him for such a huge invasion of privacy rose within her, yet Jade would be a hypocrite if she took offense. She’d more than enjoyed the fantasy, after all. Had come twice at the hands of the man standing before her, who had figuratively tossed Michael out into the cold and had replaced that hard, warm body with his own.

  Didn’t that make her as twisted and demented as the Demon King?

  Her heart continued to thump wildly and Jade pressed a hand to her chest, as if that would keep the organ from leaping from her body. “I don’t understand any of this.”

  “In theory,” he said in a tight voice, “it’s really quite simple. I’ve wanted you for some time. Eight years, to be exact. But you’re mortal, which makes you wholly off limits. Even to me. Especially to me.”

  Vexation and heat emitted from him, a combination that intrigued Jade. When she knew it shouldn’t.

  He said, “Only one time before did I read your thoughts. When you were eighteen. They were so black and agonizing, I never did it again. I literally cannot stand how tortured you are. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons I feel irrationally compelled to protect you.”

  He gave this further consideration.

  Jade didn’t utter a word, so taken aback was she.

  Apparently, though, the Demon King didn’t like the implication he’d presented, because he scowled and said, “When I sensed there was something new stirring within you, I had to find out what it was. My quest, however, has not kept me from desiring you. As we’ve both discovered.”

  There it was. The whole kit-and-caboodle sprawled at her feet.

  Except…

  “You’re wrong about me.”

  One side of his mouth quirked. “Oh, really?”

  Her cheeks flushed. He likely believed she chose to deny their attraction and how desperately she’d wanted him.

  But she couldn’t deny it. The inescapable truth was that she’d thrilled over the pleasure he’d given her and had the overwhelming compulsion to beg for seconds.

  He was right about one thing, though: She was human and he was not. In what world could two such vastly different creatures ever be together?

  Other than a dream world, that was…

  Shaking her head, hoping to dislodge all of her wayward thoughts, she said, “I’m talking about my abilities. They’re not new.”

  Focusing her mind on the metal rod he’d returned to the rack, she lifted the poker with her psychokinesis and nudged a log before bringing the tool to her. She gripped the cool end and then handed it over to Davian.

  He placed it in the holder once more. “Impressive. Has anyone seen you do that before?”

  “Not anyone who’s currently alive. Present company excluded.”

  With a resolute look on his chiseled face, he asked, “What else?”

  Jade debated how far she should go, but she suspected there wasn’t much she could withhold from this man. As though he’d innately know she was keeping something from him.

  Reaching out a hand to him, palm up, she said, “Your dagger, please.”

  He gave her a skeptical look…fringed with concern.

  Jade laughed softly. “I’ll admit I’m a strong fighter, but I’m not going to attempt to stab you in the heart.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  She smirked at him.

  With much reticence, he said, “Actually, that’s not at all my worry.”

  Regardless of his tentativeness, he unsheathed the knife at his hip and laid it in her palm. She wrapped the fingers of her other hand around the hilt and slowly drew the sharp blade over her flesh, slicing it open.

  “Jade!” Davian lunged forward and wrested the handle from her grasp.

  The pain in her hand radiated throughout her body. It was excruciating, a fact that never failed to astonish her. Her suffering was tenfold, or more, what it should be. Even a pinprick felt like a brutal stabbing. And the emotional wounds were worse. Michael pulling away from her years ago had made her feel as though she’d been run through with a sword.

  She gripped the wrist of the bleeding hand as her body trembled. Davian’s fingers closed around her biceps and he tried to direct her to a chair.

  “Sit,” he demanded.

  “Just wait,” she ground out as tears flooded her eyes.

  She fisted her hand and rotated it several degrees, so the blood squeezed out and streamed to the stone floor. A few minutes passed and the flow became a trickle. Her breath still came in harsh pulls, but the pain ebbed into a more tolerable and less debilitating sensation. A good ten minutes slipped by until not a single drop fell. Unfurling her fingers, she extended her palm to him again.

  Davian stared at the healed flesh in shocked amazement. He asked, “Where’d the rest of the blood go?”

  Her flesh should have been covered in crimson. She said, “I absorb any blood on my skin. Part of the regenerative cycle, I guess.”

  “That’s extraordinary,” he muttered. “You’re human
. But are you mortal?”

  Her laugh was a hollow one this time. “Not that I’ve tested the theory—nor do I care to—but, yes. If I sustain enough injuries, I won’t be able to concentrate on healing myself.”

  He studied her hand a few seconds more, then released it. “You rapidly heal, yet I could see how agonizing that cut was, more so than it really should have been.”

  “I can’t explain it, other than to surmise it’s some sort of internal checks and balance system. As though my ability to fix my body in an abnormally short amount of time is offset by the intense searing of the injury. Like it’s a cosmic penalty for possessing such a gift. The pain is sometimes unbearable, but if I can rise above it, the wounds heal.”

  “Do they really?” he questioned in a dark tone.

  Jade wiped tears from her cheeks. “I have an acute reaction to pain, yes. But if I can separate myself from it in a sense, I survive.”

  “That explains so much,” he mused, deep in thought. “I understood the toll your parents’ deaths took on you. But the heartache you felt with your friend, Michael… You were so young to feel that emotionally devastated. Honestly, I found it horrific to experience.”

  “That’ll teach you to head-hop.”

  “Indeed.”

  She’d meant the comment as a flip remark, but he clearly took it seriously. And a step further.

  “Tonight,” he said, “when you’re alone in your cottage, you’ll think of your friend Jinx. Won’t you?”

  Jade nodded as emotion crept in on her. “Of course.”

  “And it’ll be close to intolerable for you.”

  She stared up at Davian. His expression was a compelling, yet beleaguered, one.

  “What does it matter to you?” she quietly asked. “You’re the king. I’m a commoner. A mere mortal. My people have been besieged by fear and famine and fatality, as much in the pre-war years as in the post-war ones. Your kind doesn’t suffer the same trials and tribulations as humans.”

  Angst flittered in his eyes. “We have our own crosses to bear, Jade. Demon life isn’t all roses and sunshine.”